Tag Archives: December

I’d Love to Have a Minute to Be Myself, Please…

… 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.

Razor Unsharp Air

September is almost over and October approaching, together with (hopefully) milder weather for few weeks – or maybe even a month or two. I can’t wait to open the windows in the morning and actually feel the cold air coming, never mind the freezing flat, because that’s what I really need right now – opened window with a light breeze coming in. Don’t get me wrong, I love the humid, heavy smell of sea which is quite omnipresent these days, but it would be so much better if it was Newcastle-like, with this cold razor sharp edge to it, which refreshes the heck out of you. God, how I miss those freezing mornings when going shopping, really. In Kuwait the air comes with an oven hot “thud” while it makes you sit on chair and go – “Daaaamn, why did I open the window again?” So, I’m putting my hopes on December and January, please, be it at least 5 degrees! I don’t care, I’m gonna dress in twenty sweaters and a blanket, just make the air fresh, please.
Dori started to attend British Gulf Academy as a reception classmate, and so far she likes it, although she seems to spend half time at home sick. Makes me tick when she brings home some headaches, running noses, hurting tonsils and deep cough, just because another parent of another child couln’t be bothered to keep his / her kid at home till healthy and sends that bag of germs to school to make all the other 29 kids suffer along and eventually (such as in case of Dori who’s since her ear problems quite oversensitive on anybody sick in her vicinity) get sick as well. And that can go on for weeks, becasue it’s usually not only one parent, who doesn’t care about the other kids. Hands down, I understand the need to send the child to school continuously – I have it too – to educate the small and clever brain and get the most out of the lessons, but really, it’s better to keep the kid a week at home and let the others attend without problems; the teacher will supply the ill kid as soon as he or she comes back with a handful of homework to catch up, so no worry. Let the others have fun too! Like this Dori seems to be on the receiving end of all kinds of viruses (the joy, when hubby came home announcing all her class suffers from ear infection, obviously transferable) and being the kid with that handful of homework. I let her stay at home up to the point we’re sure she’s perfectly fine, and two days later she comes back sick again, because… well, above.
I remember from my years on grammar school, our biology teacher used to say, “If you’re sick, stay at home, because I won’t let you attend my classes anyways, come back when you’re ready.” She was right, and she knew why. I wish more people had that sense in them.