A basket of... Yousef

It was supposed to be a basket of books. It could have been a basket of eggs, or apples or clementines. I could have put garlic or onions or potatoes. I could have used it to contain the random toys or given it its previous role of laundry hamper. I could have stashed it away and forgot all about it. But when we first moved I needed a place for books, particularly for board books.

I had unpacked most of the toys and divided them around the house. Some toys were only to be played with in the basement while others were housed in the kitchen play area. Books, some dolls, and a few small toys belonged on the bedroom floor. Trains and their tracks, mini puzzles and wooden blocks were organised in transparent plastic boxes, while animal and human figurines were bagged up. Later that year JR's school would give me colored drawers and the kids would relocated the trains, tracks, puzzles and figurines there and repurposed the boxes.

The books were left. Deciding what to do with the paper books was easy; they went up on the high shelf in the kids' walk-closet, conveniently out of Yousef's reach. My books went in the hutch in the living area and Jeff's were taken to the basement office. The board books lay there. I debated a small shelf for them, but wised up about that; Yousef would bring down the shelf and the book on himself in no time. I thought of leaving them on the floor in stacks, but knew that soon they would be scattered all over the floor. I looked around the found the two identical plastic baskets and got to work; one basket held Arabic board books and the other contained the English. I set them at an angel in the corner and moved on.

Then came the cold winter day when Yousef and I needed something to do. "Get a book, Yousef," I suggested. He carried the whole basket in from the other room. "Pick a book," I asked. He tossed them out one by one on the bedroom floor. When the basket was empty, he located a favorite and proceeded to look at it, but not after he had climbed into the basket! And there he sat looking through one book after the other until he had had enough.

Jar Volcanoes

I love quality time with Jannah-Rae, but do not always want to play pretend. While she and I have certainly spent considerable time playing "restaurant," "grocery store," "doctor," "school," among others, and enjoyed it, some days I just want to bypass the role play and do something else. Puzzles, legos, crafts and reading come to mind. Today, though, I wanted to try out some science.



I had seen some blogs that boast experiments to try out with children and attempted some over the summer when the weather was warm and cleanup was easy. But since winter had begun we had not put our hands towards much messes. Today, however, was a good day for that.

We gathered our supplies: baking soda and distilled white vinegar from upstairs by the washing machine, food coloring from the pantry, glass jars from the cabinet and dish soap from near the sink. We set them up on our glass table and got to work. There was no magic formula or specific measurements to follow. A little bit of this and a little bit of that was all it took.

First, we poured the vinegar into the three jars: one half way, one a quarter of the way and one almost to the top. Then we mixed in the food coloring; Jannah-Rae chose red, blue and yellow. Next came the dish soap. Everything was eyeballed. Finally came the fun part:  adding the baking soda. First a little, then a lot and the reaction happened: out came the bubbles in all three colors, one jar at a time at first, then altogether.

It was quite a spectacle. It wasn't long before the table was flooded with color and liquid hit the floor. We were ready for it, though, with a towel strategically placed close by.

The Paper Bag

It was a Saturday at Jeddo's. We were spending the weekend there, and Jeff was alone in Columbia. Jannah-Rae had just woken up from her nap and we were putting together a puzzle in the living room. Suddenly the sound of Yousef came from the adjacent room; he had awoken. I left what I was doing, and went in for him but was surprised by the Yousef who greeted me. Instead of the cheerful Yousef I am accustomed to seeing after a peaceful slumber, I found myself confronted with a sobbing baby.

I held him. I rocked him. I kissed him. I talked to him. He kept crying.

I told him Jeddo was here. I asked Jannah-Rae to sooth him. He kept crying.

We offered him food. We offered him drink. Nothing worked.

We tried T.V. We tried the iPad. We told him we will take him out. Still he kept crying.

Finally I walked him to the kitchen. "Baddak mammam?" I asked. He pointed to the cabinet. I brought him closer. He motioned for me to open it. I did. He motioned to get even closer. I stood him on the counter. He reached in. He brought his hand out. Then, he reached his other arm, and pulled it out; this one full too. I cracked up. "Ta3a shoof (come see)," I told my dad and Jannah-Rae.

What he held out to us amounted to at least a week's worth of chocolate and treats; that's what he was after! To make things funnier, my dad asked "baddak kees ya Yousef (Yousef, do you want a bag)?" And to this Yousef nodded and we laughed some more. This was too funny, too cute.

Jeddo gave him a brown paper bag. He smiled. With a bag now available, Yousef filled it with what he held and went back for more. He kept fishing out more and more treats and dumping them into the bag until there weren't any left. He had kitkat, nutella on the go, Godiva chocolate covered cookies, oat bars, cereal bars and twix bars, saltine crackers, mini chocolate squares and a couple chocolate truffles. There was even leftover candy canes from the holidays. He wore a huge smile on his face, he was now one happy boy.

Bag in hand, "I want choo-choo," he exclaimed. He was ready to go.

Don't Tell Me

Please don't tell me I should hug,

Don't tell me I should care.

Don't tell me just how grand I'd feel

If I just learned to share.

Don't say, "It's all right to cry,"

"Be kind," "Be fair," "Be true."

Just let me see YOU do it,

Then I just might do it too.

~ Shel Silverstein

Where the Sidewalk Ends
40th anniversary special edition

~Thank you Marcia and Kayla for introducing me to this American classic by getting it for Jannah-Rae for her 5th birthday.

About Yousef

"Write about Yousef," she answered when I asked her for a topic. I was sitting in front of an empty blog post page having just published my last piece. I was out of ideas and reached out to Jannah-Rae who was sitting next to me on the couch "doing Reading Rainbow" on the iPad. I thought it would be interesting to see what she would propose. The last post was about her and she had seen her photo, so she was wonderful in suggesting I write about her brother next.

"What about Yousef?" I pressed. I wanted to better understand her idea and use it as a starting point.

"About how he doesn't listen all the time," came back her response.

I smiled, I giggled, I laughed. She followed suit. In all her innocence Yousef's rebellious almost two year old ways are a worthy topic of recording, and I cannot but agree that they are. At the risk of being charged with comparing my two kids together, I have to say that Jannah-Rae was an angel of a two-year old. She listened, followed directions and had few, if any, tantrums and meltdowns. She was sweet and charming and very pleasant to be around. Yousef, while also a wonderful companion, is certainly very different.

Yousef's personality came about like a volcano, silent and peaceful one day, and loud and destructive the next. The easygoing tag-along toddler became an inquisitive boisterous almost two year old. Once content with the toys in front and around him, now the entire world is his toy, nothing is out of reach or out of bounds. While JR would sit next to me in the kitchen while I cooked and busy herself with the plastic-ware, Yousef would not leave any cabinet unopened. And should he not be able to reach something, he would grab the stepping stool, set it up and proceed. He pushes the chairs around to get to the light switches, and climbs on books and boxes to get taller.

With Jannah-Rae there were no gates, no toilet locks, no "out of bounds" areas. With Yousef, on the other hand, we were introduced to physical boundaries. Some days I think that he would not hesitate to climb into the dryer if he could. Toys and trash end up in the toilet, JR's art work and school work end up in the recycling bin. And should he see something of interest in the garbage he doesn't think twice about fishing it out and exploring it: one day it was an empty chocolate container, he wanted to have some, another it was an empty Starbucks cup, he proceeded to drink from it, a third it was an expired food item that got tossed in its packaging, he attempted to open it.

"Not everything needs to be touched, Yousef," instructed Jannah-Rae while we were browsing the kitchen store. Of course Yousef did not heed. The next thing I hear is a ceramic plate swirling and twirling on the floor. My first thought was, "there goes $35 down the drain." Yousef had picked up an expensive dish, called out "ball" and threw it down. Luckily, it was sturdy and did not break. Unfortunately that brought an end to our outing.

Then there were the times he picked up a Godiva chocolate bar and a Nutella snack box from the stands near the cash registers opened them up and started eating them. Of course I then had to pay for them and take them away from him.

"Did we buy that," Jannah-Rae would ask every other time we leave a store. What she would be referring to is the item Yousef would be holding in his hand unknown to me. It might be a plush toy, a bag of M&Ms or a bar of soap. The decision then becomes whether to let him keep it for the drive home and return it to the store on the next visit, or leave it behind in the cart while distracting him with another toy.

There are also the knock down drag out scenes at home, and elsewhere. A complete and utter meltdown over not getting or not wanting. The screams that pierce the ears, the tears that flow. The crouching to the ground, head between the knees, legs tucked underneath. The laying on the floor, face down, arms and legs flagged out. The arched back, the stiff body. There is the defiance, the repeated requests that are met with a "no," the "make me do it if you can" looks.

But then there are the times when he is loving and lovable. There are the hugs and kisses, the snuggles and cuddles, the hand holding and pant grabbing. There are the two hands that hold my face in place while they plant a kiss on my lips. There is the head that turns to me when I ask him for a kiss. There are the "hold me mama", his arms outstretched towards me. There are the "do not put me down, mama" his legs grabbing my waist. There are the "I am tired mama" his head resting on my neck. And the "it's bedtime mama" laying on my chest, his arm reaching through the neck of my shirt. There are the laughs and the giggles, the smirks and grins, the looks and the smiles. There are the eyes that sparkle and the lashes that shine. There is the (double) chin and the doughy neck. There is the soft hair, and the smooth skin. There is the chocolate mouth and the beet lips. There is his warm body next to mine in bed, reaching out to me while he sleeps. There are his lips that kiss mine in the midst of sleep, and his cheeks that touch mine just the same. There is cuteness and mischievousness, affection and tenderness. There is love and warmth and presence. There is Yousef: the best son in the world!

Talking "Yousef"

Jannah-Rae has always been a great communicator. She began uttering words from an early age and her two word sentences weren't too far behind. Her vocabulary developed quickly and grew in complexity. And while bilingual, she was able to grasp both languages with ease. Soon enough she was conversing like an adult and chatting up everyone in sight. She would approach people of all ages and not shy away from strangers. Girls on the playground, old ladies on the bus, the cashier at the grocery store, the driver on the bus. She compliments frequently and narrates openly. So when her little brother began sputtering what is incomprehensible to most, we were not surprised at her ability to interpret his words, mimic his mode of communication, and adapt her own style of speaking to match his.

On any given day you could hear Jannah-Rae speak eloquently to adults, and what may sound as gibberish to Yousef without missing a beat. Hearing them talk would entail a combination of the following phrases:

• "Yousef, baddak (do you want) kikeek (chicken or duck) or baa (anything with four legs such as horse or cow or pig or sheep)?"
• "Yousef, you want baubbles?" which may mean taking a bubble bath, blowing bubbles or playing with snow. His word for snow is "baubbles."
• "Yousef, here is totoot (car)."
• "Yousef get cho-choo (train)."
• "Yousef do you want mai (water in Arabic) or mammam (food)?" "Mai is also his word for juice, soup, soda, milk, or anything liquid. Mama's coffee is "mai" for example. This morning it took me a while to understand what he was asking for, "I want choo-choo mai." We were at Target and I looked around to see juice bottles with Thomas the Train as their cap. He knew what he was talking about! 
• "Yousef let's go bye (out)."
• "Yousef get guy (his catch-all word for figurines."
• "Here you go, Yousef, here is your bal (ball or balloon)"
• "Time for dodo (sleep) Yousef."
• "Yousef say Na3am (yes in Arabic)."
• "Yousef say 'Cheerios,' "eerios," comes the reply.
• "Yousef, let's go baa (let's ride the carousel)."
• "Yousef, do you want this?" "I want dis," says Yousef.
• "Yousef, say 'what's this'." "What's dis," repeats Yousef emphasizing the 's like it is a separate word.
• "Yousef, wein (where is) ou-ou-ah-ah?" They are looking for the monkey.
• "Baddak ba3ed (do you want more), Yousef?" "I want moe.... (insert a Yousef word)"
• If he says "I want cho-choo" when I say "let's go bye" then he wants to go plain with the trains at Barnes and Noble. 
• "Uh-oh" was one of his first words, if not his very first. He uses it he drops, drips, spills or breaks something or someone else does it. 
• When referring to something not within his vocabulary, it is "kookoo-keekee"which is his all purpose go to word.
• "Mama, guy totoot" means Mama put the figurine I am holding in my hand onto the car nearby. 
• "Yousef, fi (is there) kaka?" Jannah-Rae would ask. In this context she is asking him if he has to poop. "Kaka" is the baby word for poop in Lebanese jargon. Yousef uses it for poop and pee interchangeably, and has added to it another meaning: trash. Holding a dirty napkin or an empty wrapper, cup, plate or box, or a dirty diaper Yousef would say "kaka" and run to the trash can or toilet (yes, we have fished out dirty diapers from the toilet!) 
• "Kaka" can also mean diaper if he is looking at one, even a clean one. 
• To him I am either Mam, Mama, or Mami and Jannah-Rae is "baby." 
• When he wants what his sister has be it food or toy or activity, he blurts "I want me."
• "Ta3a (come)" he calls out to his sister when he wants her to join him, when he wants to show her something, or wants to hold her hand. 
• "Wein guy?" "Wein totoot?" is one of his favorite games. 
• "Baabie" is how he calls Barbie or any version thereof. Dolls and his human playmates are "baby."
• When he wants to watch Super Why or see a segment on the iPad it is "I want Y," or "I want baa" respectively.
• When it is time to brush his teeth, Yousef asks for "llla" running his tongue across his upper lip. How he associated that sound with brushing teeth is still a mystery to me. 
• During the holiday season Yousef and Jannah-Rae got a lot of gifts but we opened one or two a day. If Yousef wanted to open a present he would say, "I want wow." or "I want yay." 
• "I want ph," meant he wants to blow out the candle "ph" being the sound that comes out of his lips when he is blowing out. 
• When we get in the car, the first thing he asks for is "mimi," his word for music.
• And, if there is something he is pointing at and cannot articulate it is "bi" or "daba." In reality "daba" is a word that means "now" in Darija or Moroccan Arabic, except for Yousef it means whatever random object he is interested in. 
• When Yousef is finished he says "ba7".

So you see, Yousef has a lot of contextual words and Jannah-Rae has become an expert on his speech. So much so, that many a time I find myself asking her "what does Yousef want?" hoping she would clarify what exactly he is after. 

The Last Time

From the moment you hold your baby in your arms,

You will never be the same.

You might long for the person you were before,

When you had freedom and time,

And nothing in particular to worry about.

You will know tiredness like you never knew it before,

And days will run into days that are exactly the same,

Full of feedings and burping,

Diaper changes and crying,

Whining and fighting,

Naps or lack of naps,

It might seem like a never-ending cycle.

But don’t forget…

There is a last time for everything.

There will come a time when you will feed

Your baby for the last time.

They will fall asleep on you after a long day

And it will be the last time you ever hold your sleeping child.

One day you will carry them on your hip then set them down,

And never pick them up that way again.

You will scrub their hair in the bath one night

And from that day on they will want to bathe alone.

They will hold your hand to cross the road,

They never reach for it again.

They will creep into your room at midnight for cuddles,

And it will be the last night you ever wake to this.

One afternoon you will sing “the wheels on the bus” and do all the actions,

Then never sing them that song again.

They will kiss you goodbye at the school gate,

The next day they will ask to walk to the gate alone.

You will read a final bedtime story and wipe your last dirty face.

They will run to you with arms raised for the very last time.

The thing is, you won’t know it’s the last time

Until there are no more times.

And even then, it will take you a while to realize.

So while you are living these times,

Remember there are only so many of them

And when they are gone, you will yearn for just one more day of them.

For one last time. 

                                                                                                  ~author unknown

A day like yesterday

A day like yesterday makes me wonder how I made it to the end of the day. It began not much unlike any other day, at about 4:00 in the morning. I first reached for my phone to check the time and confirm that my body was functioning as expected, waking me up at the set hour before the rising sun. I used to have a policy of not going to bed with my phone, but since giving up on the digital large numbered radio clock to guide me through the night hours I returned to my trusty phone. And while said clock still sits with its cord strewn alongside it on bedroom floor, it is merely another object for me to put away rather than a functional piece of furniture. A hour after I had brought it back from my parents, hooked it up and set up the time, Yousef had decided that it was a new "toy" and went about setting the alarm, changing the dial and turning up the volume. When it went off at an odd hour one day, I decided that was the end of that attempt at a "normal" life.

After I verified the time, I took a quick peak at my inbox to see if I had any "important" emails; of course there were none - nothing unusual. Then, I checked Facebook to see what others have been up to and to arm myself with topics for morning conversation. I barely gave it a minute and decided it was a waste of the morning minutes. I will surely be returning to it throughout the day to distract myself from whatever else I would be doing. By the light of the phone, I made my way down the stairs.

In the kitchen I set about putting the dry dishes away, heating water up for coffee, tea and oatmeal and getting Jannah-Rae's lunchbox ready. It was Wednesday so all she needed was "sides." Wednesdays are pizza days and three dollars from Baba bought her lunch. Earlier on in the school year I had thought I would allow her pizza from the school as a "treat" every once in a while but that soon became a routine. It wasn't that I was against pizza per se, I just didn't want her to eat pizza made from unknown ingredients. So I sent her with homemade pizza a few times, then life got the better of me on Wednesdays and she joined her friends in their weekly indulgence. I set out her sides: frozen peas and fresh blackberries, labelled the containers and counted the change. I made the oatmeal, brewed the coffee and sweetened my tea. Then I headed towards the living room couch and turned on my laptop. Today, I was going about my morning in reverse: I was going to tend to things first and meditate later. Except that later never came.

Soon after I sat down I heard footsteps on the stairs; it was Jannah-Rae and she was not looking good. "My throat hurts," she said and that was the beginning of a long day at home. She had a fever, was coughing and sneezing and she was not going anywhere but back to the room. I, too, wasn't going anywhere either and had to make the best of a day at home with a sick child and an overactive toddler. My day was going to be interesting.

We started with food and tried different things: cereal with milk, toast with honey, bagel with cream cheese, boiled eggs. A few bites of each and on to another choice. The dishes in the sink began to pile. Then we worked on a wooden sail boat; the sails are still missing. We moved on to assembling Yousef's workbench; it arrived with broken parts. We tried doing puzzles; pieces covered the living room floor. I tried a "contained" activity and handed the kids foam, a plastic box and figurines; Yousef sprayed it on the carpet. Trains and tracks weren't any better; the trains went flying down the stairs. We tried the i-Pad but when it was time to hand it back Yousef had a complete meltdown.

And so went the day, from one activity to another and from one screaming session to another. All the while, JR was doing her best to stay upright and cheerful attempting to eat and drink but not managing to do as much as she should. She dozed off a few times, took a couple doses of medicine and lounged on the couch. She was clearly not herself and try as I could to make her feel better, she was just sick and needed love and attention.

I kept watching the clock; the hours were ticking by so slowly. It was only 10:30 one time. Then it was only 2:00. We had four more hours till Jeff got home. Then, it was 4:30 and by the time it was 5:30 I was out of ideas, energy and the will to go on. So when I almost tripped on Jeff walking up the stairs my spirits lifted; now we could all get in the car and go for a drive to cut off the last hour of the day and change the scenery. And out we went, for juice and treats. It was after 7:00 when we returned and bed time got started. Jannah-Rae was fast asleep within minutes of getting in bed while Yousef decided to be "cute" and delay bedtime. He kept playing "peek-a-boo" and giggling, asking for water and the bathroom, wanting to eat and see Baba. Shortly before 8:00pm he stopped giving me kisses and surrendered to sleep. It had been a long day.

How I made it from 4:00am to 8:00pm without losing my mind is a mystery to me. In the midst of everything I managed to make, and eat, lunch and dinner, fold, and put away, a load of laundry, pay three bills by phone, put up plastic on three windows, and read two chapters from my book. I did not yell at the kids, express frustration or complain about my situation. I could have screamed at Yousef for spilling the juice, or for throwing the popcorn on the floor, or for emptying the foam canister on the bedroom floor. I could have lost my patience with him over the tantrums, the multiple change of clothes, or the torn pages of the catalog. But I chose otherwise. I turned a blind eye to the mess, looked over the trash and walked around the clutter. I took it hour by hour and looked for the fun a midst the chaos. I laughed rather than frowned, hugged close instead of shoved away. I took part in their life rather than try to control it. I became one with them, rather than stand apart. I told Yousef to pose while I took photos of him pushing shaving cream unto the floor. I enjoyed cleaning up the mess.

Yes, it was a rough day. But it was also blessed. It was a reminder of all the wonderful things that make up my life. True, Jannah-Rae was sick and that put a damper on the day, but she is with us, and that is all that matters. She, her brother and her father are what make a day like yesterday a wonderful day.

This is FIVE!

Five is a month-long celebration.
It is three birthday cakes in three days,
and one more party coming up.

Five is a pre-celebration with Teta and Jeddo,
A surprise party at the school,
and leftover cake with Baba.

Five is an excited little girl with a beautiful bright smile.
It is balloons, and streamers and birthday banner.
It is gifts waiting to be open.

Five is three presents from Teta,
three from Grandma,
and three from Mama and Baba.
It is a hug and a kiss from Yousef.

Five is a new backpack, a pencil case and a toiletry bag,
new cooking tools and pretty doll outfits,
a popcorn popper, books and crafts.
It is an 18-inch Madam Alexander doll with curtly brown hair and shiny brown eyes.
It is more to arrive.

Five is ~ correction ~ a year long celebration!
Happy Five Jannah-Rae,
Here is to a wonderful year.

Questions For a Five Year Old

What is your name? Jannah-Rae
When were you born? January
How old are you? Five
Who is your mommy? Ranya
What does your mommy do? Make me stuff
Who is your daddy? J-E-F-F
What does your daddy do? Go to work and get money for me to buy stuff
What is your favorite color? Red
What do you want to be when you grow up? A mom working at a doctor
What is your favorite food? Broccoli, cheese pizza
What is your favorite snack? Toast with butter and honey, and toast with nutella
What is your favorite drink? The juice that you (mama) makes (orange, carrot, celery, grapefruit, apple and beets)
What food do you not like? I do not know
What is your favorite animal? Monkey, zebra, lion, koala bear and panda
Where do you want to live when you grow up? I do not know
What do mommy and daddy do after you go to bed? Have dinner and go to bed
What does daddy say? He loves me
What does mommy say? She loves me
What is your favorite song? Jingle Bells
Where is your favorite place to eat? Chick Fil-A, The Diner and Five Guys
Who is your favorite person? Yousef
Who is your best friend? Kaitlin and Kelsey and Grace H and even Brooke
What is your favorite book? Goodnight Moon
Who is your brother? Yousef
What does he do? Help me with a lot of stuff
Where did Yousef come from? Mama's tummy
What is your favorite thing to do? Go to the park and school
What is your favorite outfit? A dress

A snow day

Jeff is in Boston, my parents are in Arlington, the kids and I are in Columbia. And, it is snowing. During the silent hours of the night, the snow slowly fell from the sky covering roads, covering trees. I woke up to a blanket of white, clean and peaceful, the first snow of the year. It is January 6th.

I am not sure what the day ahead will hold, it is still 5:00am, but I do know what JR asked me last night: "is Baba coming home today?" "I hope so," I replied. And she pressed on, "why not yes?" Because I knew about the snow, and she didn't. Because I was not sure if the airport would operate under these conditions. Because I did not want to make a certainty something I was unsure of. Because I did not want to disappoint or be disappointed. "It might snow," I said. "And flights nay be delayed," she finished for me. Yes, I nodded, yes.

How does she know these things, I wondered? Where does she learn all this from? I guess she knows more than I think she does, and I need to give her a more credit than I do. My little girl is not so little any more, and there is nothing like an innocent snow day to remind me.

Happy 5th Birthday Jannah-Rae

Happy Birthday, Jannah-Rae. 

I love you.

I woke up extra early, and went to bed extra late last night, to get things ready for your big day. I dangled streamers, blew up balloons, and hung up a banner. I baked a cake, frosted it and hid it away. I planned the surprise party with the school, I sneaked in the treats. I wanted to be ready for you today. I wanted to be prepared.

When you came to us on your own time that cold January morning in 2010, I was not ready, we were not prepared. My bag was not packed, my journal was not complete, my pregnancy scrapbook was still missing photos. I still had appointments to make and things to do. I had work deadlines and shopping lists. We still had not bought you a crib, and we hadn't yet decided about a changing table. We needed sheets for you, and blankets, a bouncy seat and a play mat. You needed a "going home" outfit. I needed more time. Yes, we were not ready; but you certainly were. 

Since then, I have been trying to be ready for you, to be prepared for your wants and needs and yet I never am. You are your own little self, my dear, and always one step ahead. I do my best, and you do your part just as well. Together we keep each other in check. I tell you to be thankful for what you have, to be happy with what you got, to enjoy what is here. You look to what more could be had, what can be improved, what else needs to be done. With my reminders you balance yourself and remember to be content. You are content. But you are also ambitious. You are eager. But you are also patient. You are loud. But you are also quiet. You are a mysterious mix of seeming contradictions. You are everything you were meant to be. 

"Happy Birthday," the banner above your head read, repeatedly covering the entire length of the wall. Happy Birthday, it sure will be. 

Birthday Girl Through 2014

It's the day before the birthday and JR is over the clouds. Yesterday she picked out the cake to celebrate, the third pack of candles, the birthday horns in preparation for her first celebration. She glowed when she set the items on the checkout counter and was asked if she is getting ready for a party. "You are turning five, right?" she was asked and shyly she nodded, amazed that they had guessed. 

I had spent the last few days invested in making her gift. I sorted through a thousand photos from the past months selecting those that portrayed her through the year. From her fourth birthday party in Beirut, through the snow in Morocco, the airport in Paris and her time in Arlington, VA to our move to Columbia, MD, her outdoor life in the suburbs and her time spent on vacation, the photos ran through her many moments and faces. There are happy faces, sad faces, sun-kissed faces, and glowing faces. There are faces on horses, faces on trees, astronaut faces and butterfly faces. There she is with Yousef, with her doll, with her self. She is running on the treadmill, riding her bike, jumping from higher and higher up. She is kneading, rolling, cutting. She is making bread, crackers, sushi. She is eating, hugging, kissing. She is checking us out at Trader Joe's, riding the duck boat on the lake, feeding the animals. She is picking fruit, reading books, smelling the flowers. She is guiding a military aircraft, dressing her dolls, getting her nails painted. She is building a city, playing with foam, dancing in the rain. She is serving me from her play kitchen, laying on a bed of nails, coloring with sidewalk chalk. She is being a girl, a four year old girl, a big sister, a first born. She is being Jannah-Rae.   

I had spent hours going through the photos. I narrowed them down to a hundred. Then, I added a hundred more. I made them into a movie. I added music. I watched it over and over again. I edited it. I shared it with my friends. I then deleted it. I took it down. I removed it from the public sphere. It was my gift to her, and it was too special to spread out. I kept it on my computer, for her to see. She will love it, I am sure. I cannot wait to see. 

Happy Birthday Jannah-Rae

I love you!

The Beach - Day 2

Day two at the beach had a perfect start. We awoke to a beautiful sunrise and an enveloping silence on Christmas Day. The sun was slowly making its way in from behind the water while a ship was making its way out to sea.

The clouds were tinted pink.

Only the sound of the waves crashing on the shore and the calls of the seagulls could be heard.

Down below our eleventh floor balcony the birds gathered on the sand in search of sustenance, while a couple wrote their daughter a Christmas message on the sand.

In our room, JR was asking to go out. Few places were open. And so it was Pocahontas for breakfast and Starbucks for coffee. The day was still young with many hours ahead. We headed back to the beach.

This time, however, JR did not want to collect shells and sand; she wanted to play with it.

She built a sand castle.

Climbed up and down a sand hill. 

And inspected her surroundings.

Yousef had learned his lesson about the waves and approached them with caution.

Chose to slide down the sand hill, 

and pick shells instead.
















The beach was followed by lunch at one of the handful of restaurants open that morning. An Asian buffet of steamed mussels, clams, and crab legs, sushi, and hibachi, was concluded with marshmallows dowsed in the chocolate fountain.

Needless to say after all the chocolate neither kids napped that afternoon. I, on the other hand was exhausted and craving a coffee. Yet desperate as I was there was no coffee to be found; everything was closed and the Starbucks we had been to that morning for coffee was a car drive away. But instead of attempting to nap which I knew was only going to result in frustration, I took the kids out on the boardwalk.

Down further from our hotel we spotted a playground. A playground on the beach; that was a win!

After we had soaked up the sun, I convinced the kids to return to the hotel to soak in the hot tub and cool pool. They agreed. We started back. From the window I saw some people gathered by the cafe chatting holding coffee cups. There also was someone behind the counter serving them. Could it be what I thought it was! Did they decide to have pity on us coffee addicts and open the cafe? There was only one way to find out!

Yes, it turned out, they were offering coffee, any coffee, for free!!! And fruit, and juice, and cookies, and muffins. It was their way to say Merry Christmas, and I, for one, appreciated it. My grande mocha never tasted so good.

Once done with our treats, we headed to the elevatros. There on the check-in counter, we had a surprise. Somehow I had been selected guest of the day, and was offered a free Starbucks drink as a treat. And while they had spelled my name wrong, JR still recognized it and actually walked up to the front desk to ask them to fix it. Two free coffees in one day, jackpot! Now my spirits were up! 

Jacuzzi, pool and bubble bath later it was time for bed. The kids had quick cooking oatmeal for dinner, Jeff and I had burgers from Sonic and the day was done. Our bones were beyond tired and rest was much needed. The kids shared their double bed and slumbered peacefully until Yousef woke up in the middle of the night asking for me.

We had had a wonderful day at the beach, and looked forward to two more.

Yousef's Reading List

On a cold Sunday the kids and I decided to head to the library for something to do. I had needed to pick out some books I had on hold and JR thought why not spend the afternoon reading and playing in the Library. Having little else in mind, that proved to be a genius idea.

When we were all settled the kids went to pick out a few books to read there and a couple to bring home for later. Each book was closely inspected to make sure it met the enjoyment criteria. Once done JR asked me how many she and Yousef could "buy." "Six each," I responded, so she handed me the books. 

"Here is what Yousef is getting," she beamed, "One Ball, one Kiki, two Toot-Toot, one Baa, one Meow." And then she added, "baddak (you want) Choo-Choo?" And he nodded yes. 

"Here Yousef, here you go your books," as she handed him a couple to hold. "Let's go pay!" she continued as she made her way to the checkout kiosk. 

She, on the other hand, got one Dora, one Strawberry Shortcake, one Princess book, one book on tape  as she calls them and has gotten to recognize them from their purple rather than white tag, and two chapter books. Mama got The Silent Wife, Still Life with Bread Crumbs, and the Telling Room. We are all going to have a fun time reading. 

Happy Holidays

JR and Yousef would like to wish you a warm and fuzzy winter. 

Happy Holidays from our family to yours. 

Jannah-Rae

Yousef

Yousef and Jannah-Rae

Pumpkins in the City

It was a warm Fall day. We had checked out of the hotel and were waiting to head back to Columbia. Grandma and Grandpa had preceded us in their rental and we had times on our hands. The kids and I decided to take a walk around Arlington, and "see what we can see," and with a kid's eyes we could see a lot.

We saw the fallen leaves, the broken branches, the wilted flowers. We saw bottle caps, candy wrappers, empty bags of chips. We saw lost mittens, hairbands, and even a shoe. There were airplanes above, ledges aside, water beyond. Then there was the pumpkin patch.

On the intersection between Fort Meyer Drive and Lee Highway there lies an island. Its primary purpose is to split traffic in two directions and allow for pedestrians to cross, but today it was our playground. In celebration of Fall someone had taken the time to turn this otherwise ordinary section of the road into a pumpkin patch and had left it there well past Halloween. That was not good for the pumpkins, but it was great for us.

When she first spotted the pumpkins, JR asked if we could take a look, so we did. Then she got closer to them. She examined the find: some were painted, some had eyes, some were round and others were losing their shape, there were orange ones and there were yellow ones. She kicked one around, it fell over. She squealed, Yousef jumped back. Then she asked if she could touch them. I did not see a reason why not. Actually, I saw many reasons why not but I decided to shed caution to the wind and allow for some fun; the hotel was close by after all and we had my parent's apartment at our disposal if we really needed it. So, I let her at it.

She proceeded slowly at first, hesitant, unsure of what she will encounter. She gently touched one pumpkin and it felt soft to her touch. She turned another one over, it was rotten. She looked for a stick and tried to poke a third; the stick went through and a light went off in JR's head: this could be even more fun, especially when you equate messy with fun! She looked at me for permission and seeing how I was enjoying watching her as much as she was enjoying what she was doing I nodded in approval.

Proceed with caution at first

There then followed the giggles and the laughs as she set the stick aside and dug in with her hands. She was almost up to her elbows in pumpkin gutting out the one she chose. Handful after handful came the seeds and the strings.

It's more fun by hand

Jannah-Rae showing Yousef her findings

JR explains to Yousef about the seeds

All the while Yousef stood there watching, unsure of whether he wanted to attempt the same or just observe. He was keenly interested in what his sister was doing and squatted attentively watching her every move and listening as she narrated to him what she was doing and what she was discovering. At one point he found a stick and probed the pumpkin with it but when it came back orange and fuzzy he let it go. His comfort zone is still in need of expansion and he was just content to live the moment through his sister.

Twenty minutes and many seeds later, the pumpkin was finished; JR had removed all the insides, squished the outside and gotten her science lesson in. Deciding not to leave the pumpkin in the  middle of the sidewalk, she returned it back to the patch. She hoped that someone walking by would notice her carved pumpkin and wonder what had happened to it.

The day was getting older and it was almost time to go. Jeff appeared in the distance so we got all cleaned up and ready to leave. Wondering what we had been up to, Jeff looked around. JR pointed at her pumpkin; it had a story to tell. Sitting there on the side, the pumpkin unknowingly had served a great purpose: it had allowed us to soak up some sun, enjoy what nature could be found in the midst of the city and let our curiosity go free. There is a lot to see when you go out to see what there is to see. 

JR, and the fun is complete

Yousef and his Milk

Because one cup of milk is not enough!

After nap one day, Yousef asked for milk. Unsure of what kind or which cup he wanted it in, he resorted to having it both ways! Almond milk in the M&M cup in one hand, and regular full fat cow's milk in a straw bottle in the other hand. He then alternated between the two, still unsure from which one to take his fill. Eventually, he finished them both off!

Our City, Our Country

Jannah-Rae is learning about buildings in school this week. The unit covers things like what is a building used for, what color would you paint your house, and what is your favorite building. They are reading books about building a house and experimenting with constructing their personal building using a variety of art supplies. The segment is due to end with the children building gingerbread houses and decorating them with candies.

I had always wanted to build, with wood, plastic, or paper, but I was never good at it. I do not have a creative bone in my body and I never did well in art class. I can copy other people's work satisfactorily and color inside the lines, but I could not think something up or draw imaginatively. And while my dad was skilled at artisan woodwork and at one time made a living out of crafting the tiniest details onto pieces of solid wood, that talent did not transfer over to me. Instead, I grew fond of the kitchen and express my creativity there. But with two little ones who still think I know best, I thought I would step out of my comfort zone and put JR's lesson into practice:

"Get me the baskets of books, Jannah-Rae," I asked. "What for, Mama?" she replied. "We are going to build a city!" I beamed. And with that we set out to work.

First, we sorted out the books by height and width; we had to get them just the right size so they would line up. Then, we looked for those that could be part of the scenery: a book with the night sky filled with stars and a cat looking at them served as the sky, one with tiles on the cover was put down as the house's base, and another with green grass and a lamb sitting in the bushes served as the backyard. Soon, JR's imagination was running wild and Yousef's lining up skills were going with it. She put together a main house, a play house, and a dog house. She made a barn for Yousef's animals and put up roofs for his people. She constructed a garage that I thought was too big for the car, but she didn't: "over here you put the tools and here you drive in the car far enough so you do not get wet when it's raining!" And also had a train station. Suddenly, JR shouted "we are building a country!" (If only it were that simple!)

The country then shifted its composition. Soon, the train station was gone, replaced by a boat house. The people now owned a car for short drives and a boat for longer ones. They lived on a lake. The animals no longer needed a barn and instead just hung out in the backyard. There were ducks on the roof and people inside the house; the door was gone. JR introduced the castle and claimed it an extension to the house. The country was versatile and dynamic. Every time JR got a design idea she implemented it on the ground, building up and out, adding people and people and animals, landscape and embellishments, shifting structures and removing some altogether.

She built, Yousef populated and together they tipped over the fragile structure.

We put the walls up again, and again they fell down. We laughed and planned. We shifted our final plan for the country to match what we had on hand. For about an hour we played with our books and our folks until JR got frustrated with Yousef putting too many trains in the stations, too many animals in the barn, and too many people on the roof top. She kept directing him at where to put things, and he kept ignoring her. They were both relentless in expressing their wills, until she gave up on instructing him and moved on. It was time to stop rebuilding. With a thud the the house, the city, and the country came tumbling down; but the kids stood strong. They had just as much fun breaking down their construct as they did putting it up.

"Just use your imagination" has been the phrase in our house lately, and this activity has put that phrase into wonderful practice. Jannah-Rae had her fill of imaginative play, showed such curiosity and creativity wondering how the people were going to get in when the main house did not have a door, where they were all going to sleep when the tent was not big enough, and where will they go.