… so I can finish some of my stuff. Like, uhm, the crocheted blanket I wanted to have finished by December. I am about 90% away from fulfilling that particular goal. Maybe a tad more. Note, that the blanket is supposed to cover a king sized bed.
Abbas, however, disapproves of my idea of spending free time and still – yes, still, darned Velcro baby – hangs on me with all twenty fingers. No space to breathe, that’s how I feel time to time (which forces me to tears and than being upset about how silly I am).
On the other hand, I do enjoy the little hugs he gives me on occasion when he’s particularly happy to see me; usually due to me carrying a bottle of milk; and I do enjoy the cuddle as I know very well this won’t last. Soon in the stores – The Baby Who’s Ashamed of his Mother. But for now, now I am that Milk Goddess to him. And I will remain one for at least six more months.
I still would like to finish my blanket, though.
I mean, is it really that hard and psyché damaging to lay right next to me while I crochet a bit? Well, tell me, is it? I sing to him, talk to him, pass him toys, while trying not to entangle my index fingers in a ball of yarn. (Did I ever mention, how gorgeous the Fishermen’s Wool is? I’d just buy a whole room of them and sleep on them. Just like that. No need to crochet it. One day, when I am rich…)
Sometimes I would just needlessly rage on them kids, and than realize how stupid that is; sleep frustration and feeling pregnant even though I gave birth (now stop that thought, not weight wise, all right?!), like we never parted with Abbas, makes my nerves… melt away. Mostly, I can stop myself from being upright abusive (in a sense of being much harsher in requirements for a “clean” room, “well done” homework, or a “good enough” nap). On occasion, I do explode and insist on goals being met and after that getting frustrated when they aren’t – getting myself in a pretty loop, I can see here from perspective of a well-slept person now (very first night since birth my sticky baby slept from 9pm to 5*30am in his own bed, oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh!). But. That is really not a standard here. Mostly (they come at night, mostly) I am fine. Ask my daughter. Really.
My husband promised me to take me away for a day, after Abbas turns year and a half. I don’t think I will live up to that day in pure sanity, but OK. Effort is what counts.
Anyways, no real news from Kuwait. Well, not for me, at least. There has been yet another parliamentary elections going on, as the parliament got dissolved once more; not really interesting for me as a foreigner and seeing the trend of Islamists popping out everywhere, I don’t think I will be surprised about the results either. Curses on those weak minded, manipulative people shedding a very bad light on the community as a whole. And making the country more uptight than it was. (Ban this! Ban that! And that too! More veils here, less women there, bigger beards everywhere!) And yes. I still didn’t forgive them that ridiculous ban of DSLR cameras for anyone else than press. Not like I do really care, since there’s minimum law enforcement in these matters; about as much as road controls and fine enforcement. So, yeah. None.
Kim Kardasomething visited Kuwait – I didn’t really know, as I’ve got no clue who is that, and hence it doesn’t really hold any interest to me, but I’ve seen a video from that event (not seen her, though) and remember thinking that girls and boys are the same all over the world, when it comes to being crazy about made-believe important figures (read, celebrities), just jumping and shouting and screaming their lungs out, because, uhm… it will make a difference, right.
I am at the moment focused on trying not to get too excited about a trip back to Czech, possibly in February. Winter! I might see snow again! Dori might use sledge and build a snowman and… not excited, I said.
We’ve bought some warm overall for Abbas as I believe this might be a slight weather shock for him, after all, it can get under -20C on occasion over there in my town. Not that it will when we are there, inshallah, because my luck usually involves rain or mud or generally unlikable weather to go out in, but after being closed at home, indoors, nearly a year, it can snow horses and I will go out. Like, really.