Count with me...

315 workbooks to mark and correct

300 odd grades to assign, photocopy and deliver to teachers

150 bath bombs to make

25 boxes of stuff to find homes for

12 pinatas to make, stuff and suspend with fishing wire


11 classes to teach

10 loads of washing to hang out, fold, and put away

8 the number of nights our pathetically inept tooth fairy has forgotten to come and collect Ruhi's tooth. I think we need a new tooth fairy

7 Teacher appreciation gift bags to prepare and deliver along with an impromptu afternoon tea to organize for the staff at the girls school

6 extra trays of bath bombs to concoct... because the first round was not enough

5 cabinets to empty and clean out

4 very important phone calls to make

3 children to care for, cook for and entertain

2 birthday parties to attend

2 music lessons to prepare for

2 fabulous friends who have helped watch Bayan and make it that little bit easier to get a few more things done

1 classroom to move

1 movie to review


1 unit convention to attend

1 shepherd costume to organize

1 dinner invitation


1 vomiting child

It has been one heck of a week.

Hatching

Bayan has developed a bit of an egg fetish. He no longer just tucks them on couches, sets them on bookshelves or hides them behind the exercise equipment, no-now he has taken to retrieving them from the refrigerator and walking the floors while cupping them in his hands. He will occasionally pause to kiss the egg and gently stroke it's shell. My repeated requests that the egg be returned to the refrigerator are generally met by emphatic protests. "Oh, no Mummy. No. I hatching the egg." Humph. Indeed.

At the Clothesline

Life is a little harried at the moment. And I am still feeling like I don't give the children enough individual attention. It is especially challenging after school as both Anisa and Ruhi have so much to tell me about their days and Bayan, not to be outdone, suddenly has a thousand things to tell me as well. This afternoon as I dashed about in a frenzy, cursing myself that I hadn't managed to make dinner before collecting the kids from school, helping with homework, cooking and getting some desperate washing done Ruhi came out to the clothesline and very quietly began handing me piecing of clothing to hang up. We had a lovely little chat and some much needed one on one time together. It was not long, but it was just right and it reminded me that sometimes the most simple and mundane things can be very meaningful, especially when you slow it down and share the task with someone else. I hope we can do a lot more of this and thanks Ruhi you are absolutely extraordinary.

A glimpse

Anisa has always reminded me of someone, but I have never been sure of exactly who. She does not directly resemble either Mehran or myself, but is somehow a slight mixture of both. I am often told that Ruhi looks lust like me and Bayan resembles Mehran. Anisa rarely gets this as she has inherited features and made them her own, but always, just below the surface there is something familiar, something that I have seen before but could not place. Tonight, it dawned on me as I glanced up at her face and for the briefest moment I caught a glimpse of my grandmother. It was fleeting, something in the shape of her face, the expression in her eyes and then it was gone. But it was there. It was so clear that I don't know how I ever missed it before and I am so grateful for that glimpse, no matter how brief, of someone that I can no longer see in this life.

I remember the talks that she and I shared whenever we visited their home in L.A; the hours I spent with her in the kitchen as she bustled around making and baking everything from scratch while I watched her every move, chatted happily and munched on the delicious nibbles that only she could prepare. These moments were made all the more precious as they were few and far between. Living on opposite sides of the country we didn't get to see them as often as I would have liked. My children never had the chance to meet her as she passed away when Anisa was still a baby, but she is never far from our thoughts or hearts and I am very grateful to have caught a glimpse of her reflected in my daughter's face.

"Mine"

According to Bayan the following things are his:

• this house
• our car
• me
• the moon
• the lemon squeezers
• the citrus juicers
• the rolling pin
• the pizza cutter
• the eggs
• the can openers
• the graters
• the measuring cups
• the melon baller
• the egg beaters
• the wooden spoons
• the rubber spatula
• the tea leaf strainer
• the ice cream scooper
• essentially all of my cooking and baking supplies
• and the kitchen cabinets (contents included) which double as Bayan's personal fortress.

And yes, I am still procrastinating.

Procrastinating

The end of the school year is rapidly approaching. I have so much to do that I can hardly think straight and while I should be organizing final lessons, marking over 300 workbooks and various assignments, cleaning a house that has not seen a dust cloth in, well...a long time, shopping for ingredients and preparing food because we are finally having S. and her husband over for dinner something that has been put off more times than I care to count, or helping to organize Holy Day programs and Teacher Appreciation gift boxes...instead I am sitting here typing a blog post and wondering how on earth I am going to get it all done.

Then there is the fact that I decided that I absolutely could not tolerate that hideous, horrible, hard to clean, plastic table covering for one more second. I simply had to make a proper tablecloth. Right away. Now that the cloth is on the table I really should do some marking, or... perhaps I shall just make some matching napkins with the leftover fabric...

"Ask Bayan."

Question: "Why are these books off the shelves and on the couch?"

Answer: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "Where is my back-scratcher?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "Why is there water on the floor?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "Is that water on the floor?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "Who broke the vacuum cleaner?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "What are my computer parts doing over there?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "Have you seen the remote control?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "Who spread hand soap on the toilet seat?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "Why is the butter on the bookcase?"

A: "Ask Bayan." Q: "Who tipped the beads out?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "Who knows where the remote control is?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "Who has seen the cordless phone?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "What is with the decomposing banana peels tucked into the shoes?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "Who put these rocks in the washing machine?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "Who plugged (jammed) these cords into the computer?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "Why are there fresh eggs tucked onto the recliner?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "Where did this come from?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "Why is there ten tons of kindling tucked into the back of the car?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "Which part of the exercise equipment did this come off of?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q:"What is my computer software doing with the potatoes?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

Q: "WHERE is the remote control?"

A: "Ask Bayan."

He is one busy boy.

Everyday Chaos

Finding balance is not something that comes easily to me. I often feel like a pendulum swinging from one end to the other rarely getting a chance to slow down and enjoy the stages between. This afternoon my meagre attempts at order and organization crumbled quite pitifully. In trying to, you know, do stuff with the kids I thought it would be nice to bake some banana muffins. Well, after arguments about who got to add what and who got to mix what and who got to put which liner in which tin they were finally in the oven and while I started dinner (sans the helpers) and cleaned up the aftermath of our muffin fiasco the girls discovered Bayan busily coloring the treadmill (not ours) in vibrant, magenta, crayon. We managed to scrub most of it off the computerized screen, front panels and drink holders, but unfortunately the walking surface, being somewhat like sandpaper, did not wash well. I am hopeful that if we exercise on it enough it will wear off. Mehran will not be pleased.

After dinner, while trying to finish off homework, we had a brief, merciful, pause to the drama and tears until... Anisa, who had decked herself out in bangles and necklaces and all sorts of beaded jewellery and was looking every bit the tribal bride, was helping Bayan on the toilet when I heard her horrified screams. Expecting to see Bayan lodged in the cistern and slowly being sucked down the hole, I left Ruhi and raced into the bathroom to find Bayan peering into the toilet and a sobbing Anisa hopping back and forth in an agonized dance of despair. One peek into the bowl explained everything. Anisa had attempted to help Bayan and her clanky, silver, bracelets had slid right off her arm and into the murky depths of the toilet. My next moments were spent locating the proper accessories to tackle this situation. After that there was nothing left to do but fish them out and flush it down. With her bangles soaking in disinfectant I returned to help Ruhi with her homework.

While Ruhi was doing research on the 7 Wonders of the Ancient world, Bayan was snipping paper with the (scalloped edged) craft scissors (you should know that he has taken a fancy to wearing as little as possible lately and is often found running about in the nude.) His piercing wails of pain soon took precedence over over The Great Pyramid of Giza. Today he learned, the hard way, that self circumcision is not a wise thing and now confines his cutting to paper based products. Ruhi finished her homework without further interruption or mishap and I am so infinitely grateful for a few moments peace.

Just Because

The term is heating up and I've found myself so busy and so preoccupied with other things I haven't been focusing on the kids as I should. I am very much aware that they need more attention and I need to make more of an effort to do special things for/with them. Time is of a premium, but we still need to eat... So, on that note, we have been creating some special foods. Take, this ginormous sandwich for instance. I hadn't made it in ages and the kids just adore it. Here is Ruhi indicating just how much she, alone, can eat. We also made some gluten free, love heart and star, buttermilk scones. Which the children helped roll out and shape with cookie cutters. They were pretty decent fresh from the oven, but by the next day the delicious factor was significantly decreased, though they still looked good. To round off our creative foods, we baked a fabulous, three layer, black forest cake, frosted with freshly whipped cream, topped with cherries and dusted (smothered) with chocolate shavings...just because.