"Someone Ticky"

This morning I had the honour of making banana muffins with Bayan, something he has wanted to do (or, more importantly, eat) for weeks now. He got right into it and while I was busy filling the muffin cups he was busy, using one of the beaters as a shovel, loading the batter into his mouth. He delights in all aspects of baking and can get surprisingly messy by the time we're through. Normally he will come straight to the point and inform me that "someone ticky" (someone is sticky. Hmmm, now who could that be?) something he has come to repeat quite often. On this particular occasion he waited until he was down on the floor and had done a couple of laps around the house before submitting to a quick wash-up, at this point he was substantially less "ticky" than he had been when I went to wet the towel. I have high hopes of finding his batter 'beard' smeared dramatically across the couch, or in some other equally fabulous (but as yet undisclosed) location. Hopefully it will not be too difficult to clean...hopefully.

The Cheesecake...And Crown Jewels

Afsaneh and her daughters came for an afternoon of beading and I showed them how to make the necklaces that we gave to them for Naw-Ruz. They are so easy to make and very satisfying to do. They also love Mexican food and Afsaneh wanted to learn some recipes, so when Mehran and Payam came home from work we had a mini Mexican feast and for dessert I made that cheesecake again, with Bayan's help -of course. I even remembered to take a picture this time. It looks good eh? I assure you it tastes far more delicious than it appears. Nushan and Farshad both showed up just in time for tea and by the end of the evening not a crumb could be found...well, maybe a crumb, but at least there weren't any leftovers tucked away in the fridge sending me late night subliminal messages.

And here are some of the necklaces that the girls and I have been working on. Some are being worn, some have been given as gifts and some are still under construction. I'll have to research some new techniques pretty soon. In the meantime Anisa is giving me explicit instructions on how to make a necklace Anisa-style. I can hardly wait to see how it all turns out.

Craughing

Pronounced: craf-ing. A common phenomenon, frequently experienced by the parents of young children. It is often triggered by a series of stressful and unfortunate events which rapidly induce a highly emotional state, to the extent that the individual is unsure weather to laugh or cry and inevitably winds up doing both. Simultaneously.

It was a rough morning. Thankfully the afternoon was much more pleasant. Look we even made a stash of luscious chocolate candles. Which will come in very handy the next time I feel the urge to craugh and will (perhaps) help diminish the stress with their perfectly delicious aroma. I am taking any therapy I can get right now. And aromatherapy seems like a great place to start, especially when the scent of chocolate is involved.

Attaching the wicks.
Measuring the wax.Melting the wax.Adding the color and fragrance.And voila! Chocolate scented candles. Mmmmmm. I feel more relaxed already.

Beauty

Today was beautiful. Sunny and mild, with a bright cerulean sky and that feeling that the world holds endless possibilities and that there is so much to discover and do. We spent the morning at a park with friends and after a picnic lunch went back to their home. Which is beautiful in itself. Nestled in a valley that is entirely unaware that the rest of the state is in the midst of a massive drought, they have emerald lawns that lead to the river that runs through the back of their property. There are koalas living in the trees surrounding their house and a friendly family of ducks that waddle up from the riverbank into their back garden in the hopes of tasty handouts. The children love to play there and never tire of the atmosphere or company. Nor do I, it is almost other-worldly. Very beautiful.

When we came home the kids and I spent the rest of the afternoon, short as it was, reading stories about Baha'u'llah in the "Ridvan tent." Despite the sagging sheets and crunchy, dry, lawn those moments too were amazingly beautiful. We hope everyone else had a beautiful day.

"A waterfall begins...

with one drop of water." I, presently, am unable to recall the source of that quotation. But it came to mind after a phone call with a friend. The kids had gone to their friend Joshua's birthday on Monday and after chatting to Sue (Joshua's Mum) I learned two things: 1). that Amelia (Josh's younger sister) was going to the hospital to have something checked and 2). that Joshua had gone through the presents that he had received for his birthday and chosen three special things to donate to the hospital. He decided to do this himself. He is such a sweet and mature little boy. I like to think that what our kids have been doing with their birthdays may (one day) influence others. Perhaps it already has.

Speaking of which today we took the toys into the city and made a clandestine drop, as the exact location of their office is not something that (for safety reasons) they give out. Bayan slept through the whole thing, but Ruhi and Anisa helped hand over all the teddies and soft toys. Diane, who met us, is actually the one who goes out and meets with the mothers and children. She says that she normally sees them in hotel rooms or special shelters and more often than not, the kids she sees have had to leave everything behind. So, in addition to having something to cuddle, it is often just really nice for the kids to be able to own something again.


This turned out really well, as so many people have extra stuffed toys that really don't get used, so it was a great way to get rid of some good quality 'clutter' while doing something nice for someone else. The kids chose some of their own toys to add to the collection and Ruhi told Diane that she still really liked her Pooh Bear, but that it was OK for other children to have him now. I was extremely impressed and proud of the way that the girls behaved, and grateful (of course) that Bayan didn't appear to mind our giving all those cuddly things away. I hope the children who will receive them will get at least a small amount of comfort from them. Beyond that I'm not really sure what to do.

Imagine This...

A portable gazebo in the back garden. White sheets elegantly adorning the sides, gently cascading down to the emerald lawn. As the slightest wind wafts through the trees it catches the corners of the cloth and offers a peek inside. The viewer is rewarded with a glimpse of the interior of this tent-like structure, (striving to emulate something that might once have been found in the garden of Ridvan): Persian carpets adorn the floor, there are plump, inviting pillows along the interior side of the wall, flowers piled in profusion, prayer books are on hand, sitting atop a royal blue and shimmery, silver, fabric from India. As visitors to this prayerful oasis arrive they are welcomed by the song "Garden of Ridvan" and are scented with rose water before respectfully entering the tent (holding the flowers that they have made specially for the occasion). Prayers are offered reverently and a short story about Ridvan told. The guests then exit the tent and make their way to the refreshment table which is set with a white table cloth and roses. There is a candle in the shape of a gift on every plate and platters filled with fresh pineapple, watermelon and banana, as well as dried apricots, plums, apple rings and a fruit and nut mixture. After refreshments the children play nicely together and the adults get a chance to talk. Before leaving the children dance and swirl in a shower of bubbles while listening to lively Baha'i music. They wish each other a very 'Happy Ridvan' before parting ways and heading home.

That was the plan...somewhere things went awry. It probably started when I (determined to use what we have as opposed to buying anything new) attempted to fashion an elegant tent out of sheets and our clothesline. Between the children pulling on the fabric, the blustery gale force winds and the dysfunctional pegs I was doomed before I had even begun. In a last ditch effort to have something remotely decent to present I had Mehran race out and get a small garden gazebo. In the interests of cost effectiveness Mehran got the cheapest one he could find made of plastic and, well...plastic. It was, in a word, dilapidated. It also had no sides so I was back to square one with the sheets, which didn't stay put and were determined (despite my desperate attempts at pinning and securing as well as numerous structural alterations) to droop and sag. We sold the Persian carpet and the Chinese one that might have worked was under too much furniture to be of any use, so the luxurious middle-eastern floor was made of fabric off cuts, which the kids used as personal slides, getting them all mixed up and grassy with dried bits of lawn that, after this drought, is anything but emerald. I was still pinning sheets when our guests arrived. The Garden of Ridvan CD had a scratch so literally all that would play was "In the Garden of Ridvan...In the Garden of Ridvan..." (you get the idea) Bayan decided that he didn't want to share anything and that everything was his. He confiscated my 'grown up' scissors (you know, the sharp kind) while we were making paper flowers and actually hit another child (thankfully not with the scissors). When it was time to head to the tent Ruhi was hot and tired and didn't want to sit or participate so she lay sprawled across the floor, the younger ones sat for a few minutes and then disappeared to play. At this point I decided not to push it and went to go get snacks. After eating the girls played nicely together and Bayan managed to avoid any further unsavory 'incidents'. We headed back to the tent to at least try a prayer. At least the second time we remembered the rose water, and the girls all sang a couple of prayers together. Which was really sweet. Ruhi even said extras. We played the Ridvan music (which Haleh had, thankfully, brought with her) while the children popped the bubbles that were blowing about the garden. Just before leaving, young Jordan actually drank his bubbles and while the girls managed to exchange "Happy Ridvans" he was not a happy little guy. Poor darling. While the day certainly did not go to plan I think that the kids had fun. I have certainly learned a few things and have been reminded of the fact that simplicity is best, especially when preschoolers are involved.

One analogy that did work well was that I had candles that looked like presents. (The kids each had one on their plate.) We talked about how Ridvan is special because it was during this time that Baha'u'llah announced that He was a Prophet of God, how the Faith (Religions) are a gift from God and how the Messengers (like the candles) bring light to the world. I think Ruhi really got it. As for the younger ones, well, there's always next year.

Happy Ridvan

When I envision the roses that Baha'u'llah would have given to His many guests in the Garden of Ridvan I always think of red roses, but I am sure they must have been of many colours. Pink was all that Mehran could find, but they are beautiful nonetheless. And they served their purpose well. The nine pink roses represented the nine non-holy days of the Festival of Ridvan and the three hibiscus (???) flowers represented the 1st, the 9th and the 12th days, just to show they were different and special. The kids learned that the Festival of Ridvan lasts for 12 days as well as what was special about the 3 Holy days, with the assistance of the flower display. I got the idea from Linden Quolls. I love that lady!

This morning was spent making candles with Ruhi and handcrafting jewellery to be given as a gift at a party in the afternoon. We spent the evening visiting relatives and drinking copious amounts of Persian tea. Bayan now says 'nabot' (sugar cubes) with accuracy and enthusiasm.

Preparations

After cleaning up the aftermath of yesterday's festivities, the children and I spent the afternoon decorating the garden for the Baha'i Festival of Ridvan. Humpf...that sounds so elaborate and grand, yet the overall effect is not as elegant as I would like, alas...we still try. We have used the festival figures, which I have color copied and laminated (so I didn't feel too dreadful as I pierced their heads in an attempt to hang them from the veranda) and multicolored Chinese paper lanterns.

After sun set the kids were treated to an outdoor dinner featuring cannelloni and salad. Ruhi helped dress up the table with a white cloth. We also added a flower centrepiece and homemade rose scented candles. They loved it! They dug right in. Bayan, in the process, even ate two servings of spinach. Will wonders never cease?

I put Bayan to bed early, as he missed his nap during the day. Mehran stayed home with him and I took the girls to the Ridvan elections. We didn't last long. Only about an hour and a half, at which stage I made the executive decision (special Ridvan cake or not) to take them home to bed. It turned out to be a good call, as only moments after we'd walked in the door Bayan woke up wanting water and "sheer"(milk). We have lots of plans this week, but what we will actually manage to accomplish only heaven knows. For now I am off to learn how to make life-like paper roses with coffee filters and water colours..wish me luck.

All Aboard!...The Teddy Express

Today we celebrated Bayan's birthday with lots of friends. Although he turned two more than two weeks ago, this morning we had the party. Given the last week and the fact that most of the children were preschoolers and would be more happy playing together than anything else there was not a whole lot of planning involved. There was a pass the parcel filled with mini teddy bears for each child and a teddy bear snow globe that doubled as a bath soap. There was a guess the number of gummy bears in the jar and a pull down pinata, where instead of hitting, the children each chose a string and the bottom of the pinata fell out, along with all the goodies.

The menu included many of Bayan's favourite foods: chocolate chip cookies, crackers and corn chips. It also included a number of his not so favourite foods: veggie sticks and dips, salad olivieh (Persian Chicken potato salad), Lebanese and Turkish breads, mini sausages, a fruit platter and some fresh date, almond and coconut rolls.

The cake was a four carriage train (3 black forest and 1 banana nut) conducted by a teddy bear, thus bringing one of Bayan's favourite things: trains and the party's service theme together. Instead of gifts we requested that people bring soft toys, something clean and cuddly, new or not, that could then be donated to the domestic violence services to be given to children (either in times of crisis or times of counselling) that really need something to hold onto.

You can't see the conductor bear but I'll post a photo of all the bears and soft things we collected, before we give them away. The girls were instrumental in helping me decorate the cake, Ruhi still has food coloring stains on her hands and Anisa helped make the delightful shade of purple that you see. They had been practicing heaps in the lead up to today, making all sorts of delightful birthday treats out of play-doh for Bayan, who has become quite a professional at singing happy birthday to himself and blowing out hand crafted candles. When it came time to blow out 'the real deal' his hours of practice served him well.





Look at all of his adoring fans. No one infringed on his rights to blow. Everyone held back and applauded most passionately. Isn't he gorgeous and yummy?

Two things I never thought I'd say

One: "Stop serenading the fish." Bayan has taken a fancy to regaling Platty and Maria with his rendition of 'Tinkle Tinkle Yittle Tar' which he sings to them, at top volume, with his head in the bowl. As a grand finale he takes a deep breath and ripples the water for them. I am sure they are deeply appreciative. And two: "Don't blow the rat." I mean - who says that? Well, apparently I do. Repeatedly. To Bayan and Anisa who are trying to entice Ellie, our illustrious rodent visitor, (who Mehran agreed that we would look after while friends are out of town for a long weekend) from her newspaper nest. In case you were curious, it doesn't work. The spritzy gusts of air only serve to send her scurrying (with quivering whiskers) deeper into her "burrow".

Carrots are far more effective.

Influenza, Ear Infections and Dislocated Ribs

What else could go wrong? Oh, no -wait. I had better not ask that. The past week has left me feeling that, at the ripe old age of 32, I am a couple of very small tweaks away from the world of geriatrics. In brighter news Bayan has taken his first bite of vegetables (that he has not instantly regurgitated with much pomp and ceremony) in at least two weeks. I made fun sandwiches for the kids, designing faces with an assortment of vegetables (I was desperate I tell you - desperate!) and while Ruhi and Anisa did consume the corn teeth and pea noses it was not with expressions of pleasure, Bayan on the other hand completely surprised me by heading straight for the (red) bell pepper lips.

Brrrrrrr...Grrrrrr

Ruhi is currently on antibiotics (for the first time in her life) after catching a wretched virus that caused lethargy, fevers and a perfectly horrendous throat infection. After fighting the symptoms for days it appears as if I have now officially succumbed. Even though I am swathed in numerous warm layers, including quilts and bathrobes, and am feverishly clutching a cup of boiling peppermint tea I am positively freezing. Everything hurts, even my hair. I am grouchy and impatient and so are the children. Witch is not helping. Everyone needs something, especially when I am sitting down or trying to rest. Bayan wants to be held constantly, Anisa is apparently competing with me to see which one of us can be the grumpiest and Ruhi has taken on the role of 'town crier'. I have been receiving frequent and detailed updates on what everyone has said to each other, how it has been said, who has taken what from whom without asking, who isn't sharing the toys and who (read Anisa) is looking at the others with angry faces.

Mehran, who left earlier this morning to fix a couple of computers, is missing all the fun. Sigh. I hope he comes home soon.

Rain!

Fabulous rain! Finally! We woke in the early hours of the morning to the delightful rhythm of raindrops on the roof and were soon lulled back to sleep by it's soothing, peaceful sound.

When we were finally up and organized it was still drizzling, so after prayers and breakfast the kids donned raincoats and rubber boots for a bit of outdoor fun.

Bayan enjoyed walking with his dump truck
Anisa found caterpillars climbing on the bushes.

And Ruhi constructed a snail army on the children's outdoor table. Ruhi though it was amazing and was most impressed with the number she was able to find. The snails were not so thrilled with their new environs and were literally climbing all over each other in a race to get off the table and back to the garden.

Changes

Outside:

Autumn has always been one of my two favourite seasons. I love the change from the long, hot days to the refreshing coolness of earlier evenings. I love curling up with a cozy blanket and cups of hot chocolate or tea to read a book, or share stories with the children.

While certain aspects of autumn are the same in Australia, I miss the richness and natural splendour of the season New England style: the leaves that turn the most amazing shades of crimson, saffron and gold, the pumpkins and hayrides, sipping cinnamon spiced apple cider, collecting acorns for the squirrels, the crisp, coolness of the air as the world prepares itself for winter.

Here, in a sun-drenched, drought-ridden land, we eagerly await the promise of rain that usually accompanies the advent of autumn, and I content myself with enjoying the dried yellow and orange hues of the leaves on our nectarine tree...

Inside:

As of tonight Nushan will be officially living with us. And I wonder what changes a new presence in our home will bring.

Bayan the Builder

Can we build it? ...Bayan the builder!...Yes we CAN!

This really works best if you are familiar with the theme song from Bob the Builder. Alas, we know it well...

Bayan is becoming quite the engineer, constructing all manner of interesting 'towers'.

He is also incredibly skilled at knocking them down and delights in their demolishment (is that even a word?).

Fortunately he is also most obliging when it comes to packing up and putting away.

Inside, Outside...Upside Down

Inside: Creating wondrous contraptions and creatures with homemade play-doh.

"The Play-doh Science Experiment" By Ruhi.
Sharing homemade chocolate chip cookies and milk while fishing for letters of the alphabet.

Outside:

Collecting eggplants for dinner.

Washing the car with a water bottle (Bayan hasn't lost his touch) and rags.

Upside down:

No Evidence

I have recently been informed that despite the fact that I am working two days a week and am attempting to nurture and train three young children in addition to the everyday chores related to cooking, cleaning and caring, there is in fact, and I quote: "No evidence that I do anything."

And I who, if I do say so myself, have quite nearly perfected the art of doing at least ten things simultaneously, must concede that he (yeah - guess who said that?) is not entirely wrong.

Allow me to illustrate.

This is our laundry room. As it is now. Yesterday it was an evil and dangerous place, consumed by breeding baskets of laundry that formed a monstrous volcano - ready to erupt. That mountain of washing has now been relocated to the living room where it is at least clean and dry (having been rescued from the impending rain) if not folded, ironed and put away.

The kitchen, while currently clean and tidy (I have done no less than 2 loads of dishes today) will be filled with bubbling pots, food scraps and all manner of seasonings and accessories by the time Mehran arrives home. I have every confidence that, with the help of myself as well as some assistance from my three chefs in training, the room will be less than immaculate.

The floor still needs to be vacuumed. Desperately. And mopped.The fish bowl needs to be cleaned. The front room has become a makeshift community for little people and is currently overrun by wooden train tracks and a massive parking garage, both courtesy of Bayan. The car needs to be tidied, there's more washing that needs to be hung out, the windows could use some serious attention...The list goes on. And on... And on...

And do you know what? I don't care. Not really. Not like I should. There are times when it is overwhelming and I can no longer stand the mess or the filth. But, let's face it, the dishes aren't going anywhere. They'll still be there after the park, after the painting after another round of the 'tiger game', but the children won't. They are growing and changing every moment and won't always want to play with me, so I've got to get it in while I can and savour these moments which are fleeting. Bottom line is the dishes and dusting can wait, whereas the children cannot. The only time I really feel bad about my philosophy is when I think of the standards of cleanliness 'Abdu'l-Baha set. When I consider His example (which is what I should be striving for) and know that, in comparison, I fall horribly short of the mark.

There must be a way to bring it all together, to have the immaculate house and the nutritious, home-cooked meals, not to mention all of the spiritual, physical, emotional, intellectual and social needs of the children (and to some degree myself and Mehran) also catered for. If there is a mystery of life that I hope to solve, there it is. That is my Holy Grail. Evidence or not. In the meanwhile we just keep plodding on.

Poor Mehran

"Baba can fix it." Is the happy refrain often heard in the house these days, especially following Bayan's favourite announcement: "Uh, oh! Bwoken. Oh, Deah!"

Mehran has been repeatedly enlisted to help repair everything from flashlights and train tracks to horse tails, umbrellas and sandal heels, not to mention the bathroom tiles, front pavers and an apparently endless stream of dysfunctional computers.

As far as Mehran is concerned it is getting old. And frustrating. Fast.

Here he is attempting to reconstruct the latest casualty. He is sporting a hand crafted necklace courtesy of Anisa whose loving fingers made it, (the same fingers who cracked the outer shell of the flashlight, smeared yogurt on the couch and decimated my supply of peppermint foot cream- while blaming it all on Bayan) whose sweet arms draped it tenderly around his neck as she said: "For you Baba." Then, with a giggle, a kiss and enthusiastic words of encouragement she left him to his "fixings" and scampered off to play. She will undoubtedly return soon with more damaged goods in need of repair and will most charmingly bestow them upon Baba while innocently beseeching him to fix them...Again...

Play Dates and Persian Taroff

We got to catch up (finally!) with Martha and her kids, who came for a play date early this morning. They are due to fly back to Queensland tomorrow, so it was great that we got to see them before they left. I can't believe how they've grown. Amelia is so vivacious and sweet and Danny is a gorgeous little gentleman with the most charming "Indian" accent.

Bayan and Amelia enjoying the swing set.

In between play dates I took the kids to the grocery store, as the girls were getting set to climb out of the car Anisa turned to Ruhi (who was sitting in the middle of the back seat) and said: "Ruhi, you can go first." (This is blogworthy because it is not uncommon for the two to try to race each other out of the car, stepping on toes, climbing on seats, falling all over each other, each trying to be the first one down.) To which Ruhi replied: "Thanks Anisa, but you can go first." In stunned silence I watched as they continued to 'taroff' with one another. "Thanks Ruhi, but really it's OK, you go first" (Anisa had scrunched up her knees so that Ruhi could easily get out). "No Anisa, I insist. You go first." Eventually the standoff ended with Anisa getting out, followed by Ruhi. Their behaviour was met with lavish praise and promises to 'put it on the blog.'

Verity and her Mom came over later in the afternoon to help us blow some bubbles. The kids had a blast and turned the backyard into a shimmering wonderland.

Ruhi enjoyed twirling through the bubbles while they drifted through the garden.