So you think you can dance?

my swearing-in ceremony takes place tomorrow at the virginia supreme court. basically, i can now practice law in all virginia courts. i can't help but think if the field of law is the path i should continue to take.

looking back, i initially wanted to become a solid gold dancer. as i got older, my taste evolved. next, i wanted to become an actress. a soap opera actress to be exact. see i wasn't allowed to have boyfriends. in my mind, the only person i would ever kiss in my lifetime would be my future husband, so i was desperate for a loophole. and as far as i was concerned a soap-opera actress was the way to go. i knew part of my job description would entail kissing a see of men and to get it just right would take many many takes. sorry mom, you see it's just a part of my job. well, needless to say, that dream was quickly laid to rest.

you'll never guess who my idol was in elementary school. barbara walters. i wanted to be a journalist/news broadcaster. i watched 20/20 as a 6th grader religiously until my parents crushed my hopes again when they informed me that i would have to "sleep my way to the top." this was incredible news to a 12 year old. i was left with the gross impression of ms. walters as a slut, whoring herself out to get to where she was.

my parents were still trying to steer me in the direction of becoming a doctor. see every persian parent drills the following acceptable professions in their child's brain from a very young age - doctor, lawyer, engineer, and dentist. god forbid you should want to become an artist or musician. if you are a doctor, you have probably made your iranian parent's life. they can brag to all their friends and take huge pride (and credit) for their child's success. it is like a broken record in my mind, "taraneh - you shood be a doctor because a doctor is needed everyvere. all countries need doctor. you never know vhere you end up. and you can buy vhatever you vant, vhenever you vant." (iranian parents are unable to pronounce the letter w and "th" so washington is pronounced vashangtone and the is pronounced da) i would have loved to become a doctor. i love the sight of blood. no really. i can't seem to get enough of alex's stories of the patients he sees in the ER - their symptoms, diagnoses. but alas, i didn't love chemistry. i didn't love physics and all of the other science courses. so that meant dentistry was out too.

all of the engineers i knew were geeky men who wore really nerdy glasses. so that was immediately crossed off the list. and so i was left with the field of law. and i loved to argue with my parents and did win the occasional fight (which usually meant a curfew extension or permission to attend a high school party). i went to college - discovered mock trial in my senior year and was hooked. i love love love cross-examining witnesses. it's really my forte. my husband never stands a chance with me. i was good at it. i got awards and shit too. so i figured i'd go to law school. but not before i fulfilled my one important wish of backpacking through europe. i put off law school for a year and worked like a dog in a corporate law firm and saved up money to make this trip happen. i even passed up going to the univ. of michigan law school (a top 10 law school that offered me admission to start in the summer, but not the fall. assholes). nothing was going to keep me from spain.

i went to law school and really enjoyed my classes. i did a clerkship upon graduation and moved to philly for 3 years. when i returned to maryland, i got a job as a prosecutor, which i absolutely loved. i would be perfectly happy doing the same thing in virginia, but the job market is shit. so i'm sitting here thinking about my past answers to "what do you wanna be when you grow up" and trying to figure out if any can become a reality. solid gold no longer exists. the view isn't hiring and i can't get that image of barbara walters on her knees out of my head.

anyway, i'm seriously considering going back to school to become a high school english teacher. i loved being a TA in law school. it was truly rewarding. i know the pay is shit, but i can see myself really enjoying it. and how awesome would it be to have summers off with the kids? be home on columbus day and all the other random holidays? we shall see what happens.

here is another list of possible occupations for my girls given their current interests:

Anais:

• make-up artist - she has ruined 2 of my cherry chapsticks thus far with her continuous applications
• shoe model - she loves to wear high-heels around the house and give us all a headache in the process
• hair stylist - she loves to brush (and yank) my hair (and ears).
• telephone operator - girlfriend loves to talk on mommy's cellphone
• nanny - she is so maternal and lovingly pushes her baby around in baby stroller a few hours a day

Dina:

• chef - she loves to cook with her dad
• acrobat - the girl is a monkey-bar addict
• ice-cream store owner - this is her current response to what do you want to be when you grow up
• mathematician - my 5 year old can add and she hasn't even started kindergarten!
• stylist - she has a unique fashion sense and very strong opinions about clothes to the point that i can no longer pick them out for her.

My Rock and a Proposal

i know my husband is a doctor and is likely immune or desensitized by now what with all the "diamonds" he's encountered in his career, but still my image has been tainted. confused? let me clarify. we all have our names for that wondrous part of our bodies that stretches out and tears during childbirth. whatever name you use was started generations ago by your great-great-great grandmother and just stuck. while growing up, my mother referred to mine as "belleryawn" which in farsi translates to diamond. don't be jealous. i think it was their way of having me put my diamond on a pedestal with a big "do not touch" sign for all the world. my mom informed me on a daily basis that only my husband could touch my diamond, only he could know - it's color, cut, clarity and worth.

the point i'm trying to make here is this: my husband is used to seeing many 'diamonds.' he probably sees 10 a day. and i know he's utterly grossed out by it. he tells me so. and he probably won't ever admit it to me, but i'm pretty sure his presence during my 2 natural childbirths grossed him out. my friend has this theory and I couldn't agree more. here is the proposal: men should stay in the waiting room instead of getting a front and center seat of your diamond. in the waiting room, they are worried for you. they're pacing back and forth and thinking about you. they are imagining you as their heroine - their noble wife who commits brave deeds and possesses unbelievable courage. the husbands will picture us guiding their precious baby into the world. in their heads, we'll have this super determined look in our eyes and there will be no shouting or hysterics. in fact, our mouths will be tightly closed. they would never bear witness to the wild barbaric creature that we truly are during that time. they would hold this rosy image of us forever.

because when they're in the room with us, in their minds - it really is about how they feel, their hunger or discomfort or impatience (of course they would never admit this). and not that this has ever happened to me (pinky swear) but you know they will never look at you the same if you take a dump in the same place where their kid's head is about to pop out.

i will always wonder if alex got turned off by my births. for 9 months (times two) he put up with my whining, complaining, fat ass, and general unpleasantries. looking back, i now wish i had left him with a more sparkling image of me and my diamond.

p.s. the above picture is the only knocked up pic of taraneh you will ever see. i gotta make sure i don't taint your image of me. shoooot.

To have and to hold...another baby?

so my husband and i got back from a fun-filled weekend in the big apple, where we got to see old friends and family. one of my good friends has a 7 month old and of course he's the cutest baby ever and i saw alex pushing him in his stroller, carrying him around with the goofiest smile on his face and the urge for a 3rd resurfaced. the urge initially came about months ago after watching the endearing jamal (from slumdog millionaire) fall into a pit of poo and then emerge to meet the iconic Amitabh Bachan. this desire to give birth to a son was safely locked away a swift 24 hours later. as my 33rd birthday approaches, it is time to do what i do best. make a list of the + and - (pun intended!) of having another baby.

+ (pluses)

_____________

- the chance to have a mama's boy (both of my daughters are daddy's girls)

- the chance to have a girl and really make alex suffer (muwahaha)

- i know it would make alex crazy happy to have a son carry on the mohseni name (and mow the lawn, take out the trash, help wash the cars, etc.)

- i've always wanted a big family (at the end of my wedding video we talk about having 5 kids...and no we were not inebriated)

- increasing the likelihood of at least one of my kids thinking i'm cool and hanging out with me later in life

- going through the cute baby stages of 3 mos - 1 year.

- (minuses)

_____________

- 9 months of pregnancy and looking like ass

- weight gain

- lack of sleep for at least another 2 years

- baby could be born unhealthy

- the possibility of having another teenage daughter

- if i have a boy, i may turn into of those mother-in-laws who thinks her tak-pesar (aka only son) is god's gift to the world (if you're persian you know full well what i mean)

- feeling like a single mom because alex is never around

- moving into (and cleaning) a bigger house

- increased chauffeuring duties

- whiping another butt for the next 5 years of my life

- and most important of all: grandparents no longer offering their babysitting services

i'll stop now. suffice it to say, i don't think i'm quite ready to buy a......van (shudder)...just yet.

Lazy Mommy

i'm baaack. i had a fun ride on babymohseni.blogspot.com. but since that time, we have another furry addition to the family: anais pari mohseni. age: 23 months old. my cousin (well if you want to get technical, she is the sister of my cousin's wife, but if you're persian and you feel a closeness to someone, you call her your cousin) inspired me to start up again. she is documenting the lives of her beautiful twin baby girls at mamaloves.ca. i don't want my youngest daughter to feel left out and "you kept a blog for dina and took a million pictures of her and did nothing for me and took only 100 pics. wah wah." hence the title of this blog entry. i am guilty as charged. no need for a trial. here is the evidence against me:

1. by the age of 2, dina (my 5 year old) could recite the alphabet and count to 10 in 3 languages.

2. my youngest's vocabulary probably consists of 20 words - all connected in some way to food.

3. by the age of 2, dina was enrolled in 3 kiddie programs.

4. anais is enrolled in 0 activities.

i will say that anais is 95th percentile in height, weight, and head circumference. but sadly, i cannot take credit for these feats. it's the latvian genes at work. so from here on out, i vow to be a better mommy to anais. i will potty-train her on schedule. i will become vigilant about teaching her the ABCs and numbers. and i will sign her up for some swimming lessons and little gym classes. if she gets anything less than her sister, she will forever hold a grudge. (did i mention i am the queen of resentment and holding grudges? my sister lived the dorm life, college apt life, and sorority life throughout college while i lived the commuter, live-at-home-with-your-parents-all-4 years-life.) sigh.