Oh, I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends

you know when you're having one of those days that everything goes wrong and all you want to do is curl up on the couch and drown yourself in a sea of strawberry mochis? (mochis are my latest sweet discovery - and if you don't know, you better ask somebody. shiiyet. ok fine. go to your nearest trader joes NOW!) you feel like total shit and the whole world is mad at you, no worse - disappointed in you? you're sitting alone watching last night's episode of the biggest loser and crying hysterically? well, i was having one of those days today...until i checked the mail. and received the most amazing gift from my incredible friend [girlfriend got A+s (emphasis on plural) in law school; that is rare and enviable.] five years ago, she surprised me with the most beautiful quilt for D and has done it again, making the most lovely quilt for A. i'm so touched. no one has ever done anything this special for me. i'm in awe and at a total loss for words...

thank you hilary. you have a heart of gold. i love you.

A's Quilt

D's quilt

Sushi Talk

conversation between husband and wife over dinner:

A: *raises three fingers in the air*

T: *blank stare* 3 what? 3 more days until something? 3 weeks? am i missing something here?

A: a third.

T: a 3rd what? car? bathroom? telephone line? help me out here.

A: no! a 3rd kid. he points to our 2 year old, who is looking irresistibly adorable as she draws

pictures of kabob on our extra sushi ordering list. [he's trying the old - look how cute she is, don't you want another, she's about to grow out of the toddler phase trick]

T: downs a shot and half of hot saki.

T: only if you can guarantee me a full-time nanny.

A: i've been thinking about it and i would love for us to get a latvian au pair.

T: as long as she's over 40.

A: no way! she's gotta be under 30.

T: honey, is this nanny for you or for the kids?

A: blank stare followed by nervous laughter.

T: ne paldies. [latvian for: no thank you.]

******

halloween is just around the corner: i've included some pics from last year, that are totally unrelated to the post, but cute nonetheless. :) this year, D will be a flamenco dancer and A will be a pumpkin fairy (again!)

Beware: Curfews May Lead to Increase in Promiscuity

(this one's got 'i'm going to give my mom hell' written all over her face)

(when i was a teenager, my mom cursed me and said, "i hope god gives you a girl exactly like yourself." translation: i hope your teenager will be a belligerent, argumentative, pain in the ass.)

growing up with strict persian parents is one thing. being the first born of strict persian parents is a whole other ball game. can i sue my parents for past wrongs? i'm sure there is no statute of limitations. there certainly isn't one with sex offenses. and what they did to me is bad. really bad. almost on par. ok not really. but, i wonder if i would have legally emancipated myself like that romanian gymnast or drew barrymore, if i had known what the hell that phrase meant when i was a teenager. here are a list of my gripes:

1. 11pm curfew in high school

2. midnight curfew in college (they wanted to protect me from car accidents with drunk drivers)

3. no sleepovers in high school (they thought a friend's dad or brother would molest me)

4. zero love life in high school thanks to the no talking to the opposite sex policy (they deduced that conversing on the phone is like the gateway drug to having sex)

5. living at home with my parents for all FOUR years of college, thereby resulting in:

6. no dorm experience ("vaay live in dorm when you live ther-tee minutes from es-kool, makes zee-ro sense taraneh jan.")

7. no apartment living experience in college (see above)

8. no study abroad experience in college

9. no frat party experience (come on - i had seen the movies and had always dreamt about getting really drunk at a frat party and making out with a dreamy, blonde frat boy - i had also imagined myself with really big boobs in this scenario, you know you did too!)

my little sister should really shower me with gifts on a monthly basis or at the very least remind me of my awesomeness on a daily basis - for the nice, easy, smooth road i paved for her with my very own blood, sweat, and tears (literally).

1. my little sister slept at a friend's house every weekend in elementary, middle, and high school! ("have a vonder-fool time dar-leeng!")

2. she had a plethora of male friends, who called the house, and had full on, pleasant conversations with my dad. [this is the same dad who barked, "don't ever call here again" to one of my guy friends who called about a homework assignment once and nearly made him shit his pants]

3. she lived in the dorms her freshman year ("it is not safe to de-rive home late after studying at de libary all night")

4. the cool apartment style dorms her sophomore year ("it is good to not have roomate")

5. she lived in a sorority house her junior year ("dis is good for resume and so-ro-retee do good tings for community, yes?")

6. studied abroad in spain her senior year ("dis is very good ex-per-eeyence for you!")

as you can see, my parents evolved. (hmmm...or maybe they felt really bad that my sister has a dairy allergy and overcompensated with freedom and no discipline. that can't be it! i had asthma dammit - i couldn't breathe! she couldn't eat ice-cream. which is worse??? strike that.)

yeah yeah - i know the oldest always goes through hell. and parents have either come to their senses or have given up the fight with the second and third born. but i'm still very bitter. (shocking!) i will admit this - when you have your own kids, you kinda start to understand where they were coming from. you start to realize that your parents were not the crazy, heartless, cruel people you thought they were. you start to understand that the world is an unsafe, unpredictable place filled with lunatics and rapists.

i wasn't allowed to get my license until i turned 17. i thought it was the end of the world and that god had dealt me the shittiest hand when it came to being born. i think about dina driving around in 11 years at the tender age of 16 and i'm like, oh hell no! i open up the metro section of the washington post and am obsessed with reading the little blurbs that describe accidents involving teenagers who have lost their lives. it happens almost every day! should 16 year olds really be on the road? blaring their music, texting their friends, and talking on their cellphones?? i think not.

despite the world being a scary place, i know that if i raise my child to be a mature, responsible, smart, and sensible person - it's ok to let them go. dina can go to stanford and live in the dorms. (she just better know that i will move to cali with her and buy a place within a 5 mile radius.) i know that my parents were concerned for my safety and well-being and thought they were doing what was best for me. but when you become too restrictive and suffocating, you run the risk of your kid turning into a crack whore. they were lucky i didn't rebel and turn into a slut. that's because they had done a good job of raising me. (and because i'm a people-pleaser - ahem. not in that way - i like to please authority - you know be teacher's pet, my parents' favorite, etc.) so i will try to remember the hell i went through when it comes to the battles that are sure to come my way during my girls' teenage years. i will try to be more open-minded and less controlling. i will try to be less oppressive and more tolerant. i am an over-bearing persian mom (it's in my blood), but i'll make sure to let the cool, mellow american side of me shine through.

We Don't Need No Education...

goodbye criminals. hello teeny-boppers. i will no longer answer to a judge. i will have to kiss up to the principal. i'm leaving behind words like mitigating circumstances, incompetency, the alford plea, and possession with intent to distribute and familiarizing myself with dangling modifiers, sonnets, denouement, and oxymorons (god i love that word). i'm trading in black's law dictionary, the federal rules of evidence and the constitution for farenheit 451, the scarlet letter and 1984. i'm removing restitution, rehabilitation and punishment from my vocabulary and replacing it with romanticism, transcendentalism, and existentialism. farewell benjamin cardozo and thurgood marshall. i'm with shakespeare, dickens, and keates now.  folks, i'm switching careers.  

it's a little scary. am i making a huge mistake? will i be any good? will the students like me? will i win teacher of the year or be the laughing stock of high school? will the teenage boys hit on me? will the valley-girls eye me up and down, grit and say whatever? are there teacher cliques? will i befriend the cool psychology teacher or sit in the corner of the faculty lounge with the geeky/socially-awkward physics teacher? am i going to have to chaperone a prom or homecoming? will i be grading a million papers while watching project runway and wondering what the hell have i done? will the parents annoy me? will i have to fail some kids and distribute some Cs and Ds? what if i see a cheerleader giving the stink eye to a sophomore whose taking prednisone for asthma and can't help the chubby cheeks and acne? ahem. (memories...all alone in the moonlight) oooh can i give out detentions? (oh it's personal and it's payback time bitches).  am i going to have to get cliffnotes again for books i don't understand and don't care to read?

i love reading. i love writing. i loved teaching to law students as a TA in law school. i love editing papers. i mean i really love it. there is nothing more satisfying than taking a red pen and crossing stuff out and drawing arrows and these things: {     } and question marks all over a paper (ok i lie - a tres leches or slice of pumpkin cheesecake is more satisfying, but i'm talking brains not belly right now). i also really like the idea of being home at a reasonable hour with my kids. i really really like the idea of having summers off, winter break, spring break, and all the other holidays (i heart jewish people and dead presidents and notable historical figures).

i can't wait to give a pop quiz. and dole out parts and make students act out macbeth. i'm joking. i do think our teachers are underrated, underpaid, and unappreciated. when i look back on life, my teachers and professors had the most lasting and profound impact. i hope some day people will look back and remember miss. azani as their favorite high school english teacher. that would make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside and may just trump the high i get from biting into a heath bar. fyi: definition of heath = a tract of open and uncultivated land. synonym = moor. how ya like me now?  

if you don't eat yer meat, you can't have any pudding. how can you have any pudding, if you don't eat yer meat?!  what is it with me and song lyrics lately? it's a great song nonetheless. (that's a great word too.  i'm going to start using it in every day conversation.) carry on, class. 

You and Me Baby Aint Nothin' But Mammals...

okay - so west virginia is no wyoming, but we still managed to have a nice, relaxing time. after 4.5 hours of driving and 389 "are we there yet?" questions we finally arrived. the house we stayed in was beautiful, but it was in the middle of nowhere. at night, alex would set up booby traps (note to self: look up the word origin for "booby" trap) at each entrance into the home, for fear that someone would kidnap the kids in middle of the night. on our first night, my husband left our room at 2am and slept with the kids. i asked him, what if someone kidnaps me and there is no one to protect me?? it was dark, but i'm pretty sure i saw a shoulder shrug. thanks honey. i love you too.

we were informed the day before we left for the trip that there would be a TV and dvd player, but no cable. my husband, who was going to the library to return some books, was assigned the task of renting some movies for the week. we spent each night, watching national geographic videos. i was hoping for movies along the lines of the diving bell and the butterfly, but should i have really expected this from the man who took me to see the beavis and butthead movie on our first date? now you'd think watching national geographic movies would be highly educational for our 5 year old. but boy did we have to do some major damage control.

Day 1: Lions

D: "mommy, what is that boy lion doing to that girl lion?"

Alex quickly responds, "he's giving her a piggy-back ride."

D: "can i have a piggy-back ride right now?

Alex: "you most certainly cannot!"

Day 2: Zebras

D: "look guys - even the zebras are giving each other piggy-back rides."

us: "piggy-back rides sure are fun!

Alex: "mommy loves piggy-back rides."

me: "ahem...shut up alex."

Day 3: Rhinos

D: "rhinos give piggy-rides too!! that is so cool! that must hurt the other rhinos back. they are heavy."

Alex: "mommy is heavy too. she hurts my back during piggy-back rides."

me: glare. followed by middle finger (when the kids are looking away of course), followed by mental note: no piggy back rides for daddy in the foreseeable future.

anyway, a fun time was had by all. some highlights: i can't look at another marshmallow until the year 2020. i beat my husband bowling. dina got bed bug bites all over her legs. i ate freshly caught fish from the river and was paranoid all night that i was going to die from some fish-borne disease. i am the UNO queen. my husband has picked the last 3 three vacation sites and being the awesome wife that i am, i have obliged him. it's pay-back time. i'm thinking hawaii in july...sans kids.