Persian Mommy

Our new arrivals: baby and lice

2011-12-11T07:08:00.000-08:00

ok. so a lot has happened since my last post. first and foremost, i had a baby. our third (and final) girl who will likely give us hell during her teenage years, but will be cute and cuddly until at least age 4. :) she came out fast and furious. in fact, she scowls a lot - just like her dad. :) she has hair on her ears, alex's feet and my nose (hallelujah!). despite my enormous belly and all the 'are you having twins' comments from strangers and family alike, she was my smallest child, weighing in at 7 pounds, 2 ounces.

here she is just a fews old:

i know it has been months since my last post. i really do want to be better about blogging more frequently. i have several topics in mind. some of you have even approached me and asked what da dilly yo? why aren't you blogging? and it truly warms my heart that you care about what goes on in my not-so-glamorous life. speaking of not so glamorous - i have been through hell and back again. let me explain. in late september, i took the girls to get their flu shots at our pediatrician's office. A is sitting on my lap getting the shot and in between her screams and cries, i notice these little white dandruffy-like things around her ears and casually point them out to her doctor. the dr. takes a look and informs me that my kid has lice. she explains what needs to happen: buy NIX lice shampoo, wash all the linens, bag up the stuffed animals, and vacuum. i waddle home and ask my husband to go to cvs and buy NIX, while i wash, vacuum, and clean like mad. of course alex returns with the generic cvs lice brand shampoo (why can't men follow simple instructions and why must they try to save a buck when it comes to the health of their child and their wife's sanity?!). i'm 9 months pregnant, so alex treats A's hair and we throw D's hair in the mix as a precaution.

i do my best to comb the nits out, but i'm not going to lie - it's difficult with her nappy, curly hair. alex suggests we shave her head the way his mom shaved his when he was 5 with lice. i proceed to ignore him. he repeats it again a little louder (in case i didn't hear the first time) and adds, "the only way we are truly going to get rid of this is if we shave her head" (why do men not understand that girls care about their hair - that if you go and shave your 4 year old's locks - who you have repeatedly told, your hair will grow faster and prettier if you drink milk - will undoubtedly need years of therapy after a traumatic butchering.) we are not shaving my child's hair i tell him, icily - especially after you purchased the cheap lice shampoo.

being the honest person that i am, i promptly tell her school about the lice and that A has been properly treated, and ask that they please clean their cots because there is no other logical explanation about where the lice originated. 7 days pass and we get the dreaded, embarrassing phone call from school. come pick up your child, she has lice. we look through her hair and sure enough there are more nits and the whole lot of us are scratching our heads like maniacs. we are paranoid. we are delirious. i check alex's head. he checks my head. is that dry scalp or lice, dammit?? my mom calls complaining about her itchy head. we do another lice treatment and wash everything again. the grandparents do the same. i throw away her bag of stuffed animals and pray that she doesn't notice or ask for them ever again.

for a few days, everything seems ok. things starts to return to normal until A pulls out this gross, leggy, ant-like thing from her hair and says, "mom, look at this bug that i pulled out of my hair." *gulp* i want to scream. i am frantic and am trying to play it cool to not upset her. i ask her to sit on my lap so i can see if there are any more insects and sure enough - i see about 10 live lice crawling around my child's head. i had never seen these vermin before. here is a pic:

so there you have it. we repeat the entire process AGAIN and AGAIN. i am frustrated, annoyed, and even more paranoid. think: an awful version of the movie ground hog day. my life was in a frenzy for 2 months: lice treatments, vacuuming, washing, pulling out nits. (try to get a kid to sit still for 3 hours while you go through her hair, pulling out nits - one by one - shoot me now.)

i take her to the hair cuttery and we cut off 5 inches of her beautiful hair - which in curly hair translates to 10 inches. i worry about her reaction. you cannot chop off a child's hair without some kind of incentive. i bribe her with a candy bar (or two) and hope she doesn't cry because i will surely cry if i see tears. i wait with bated breath. she takes the cut like a champ and her new short do looks, dare i say, cuter than before. phew.

we repeat the treatment process so many more times that i get fed up. i am doing everything right, why does this keep coming back?! i went into angry-protective-mommy mode. i wrote a terse-i'm-paying-$1400/mo in tution-ya'll better-do-something-letter-to the school and ask that she no longer "rest" on their mats. i typed up the letter as if alex had written it and add comma, MD after his name for effect. the printer was having issues, so i asked him to print the letter, while i get the kids in the car to drive them to school. he gives me the letter and has made a significant change. he signs the letter with my name saying he doesn't want to be the bad guy. (why do men care so much about their image when it comes to their child's health?!) i explain if they think he wrote it, the MD adds more legitimacy and they are more likely to respect our request. in the letter, i had asked them to have her read quietly in the corner or engage in some other quiet activity while the other parasite-infested kids nap, bc i will not have my child endure this time-consuming, gut-wrenching process on a weekly basis. i myself cannot keep doing this. finally, the school takes me seriously and gets their shit together. they conduct head checks, thoroughly clean their mats, bag up the coats and backpacks, and send stern letters to the other families.

i cringe when i see A scratching her head and quickly get her off my bed when she climbs in to snuggle (i can't tell you how awful i feel about this). story time has moved from her bed to the leather couch...it sucks, but i will not be at ease until the creatures are 100% gone...

p.s. i have yet to receive a push present. 9 weeks and counting. santa better be very good to me this year.

A's before/after pics:

how ya like me now?

Movin' on Up...

2011-07-27T04:13:00.000-07:00

i know it's been a while...forgive me for i have moved. well not yet, but will be doing so on sunday. where to? back to my old stomping grounds: good ole montgomery county, maryland: a mere 5 minutes away from my in-laws. bring on the unexpected, surprise bike visits at random times throughout the day. i don't mind - especially with soon-to-be three kids! due to job location change and school zoning changes, it no longer makessense to live here. it has been a wild, bumpy 4 years, but there are certainly things i am going to miss about this area. so i will do what i do best: make a list of what i will miss most about this house and clifton, va. while i am at it, i will make a list of what i won't miss and look forward to having in the new abode.

i will miss:

wegmanns: best.grocery.store.ever.
lifetime fitness: best.gym.ever. (though i have been a very bad girl and not taken full advantage of this glorious gym for the past 7 months)
peterson's ice-cream depot: best.mayor-owned.ice-cream.ever (my kids are utterly devastated by this loss)
my beautiful wide plank tiger wood floors that cost us an arm and a leg
our 5 skylights cause skylights are cool
my view from my deck onto the backyard: what sold me on agreeing to buy this house. trees and forestry as far as the eye can see
costco - yes, i know they're everywhere, but not this close and accessible. i hear the one in gaithersburg is a nightmare.
the girls' preschool: best.preschool.ever. where else can they learn japanese, spanish, and how to share nicely?
the countless korean restaurants that surround us and bring such joy to my husband and D.

i won't miss:

hearing my husband eat his cereal in the kitchen at 4:30am: a drawback of bedrooms on the main level
deer eating all of our flowers in the front yard
shoveling snow off our abnormally long driveway
taking the enormous trash and recycling containers up and down said driveway
not being able to take walks around the neighborhood since we live off a busy street without sidewalks
having to keep a spotless house 24-7 in case someone stops by for a showing (this is hard with 2 kids who have conveniently forgotten the barneycleanup song)
spending 50% of my life in a car driving back and forth to maryland for language schools and visiting family.
having to check traffic every single time i plan to make the trek to maryland to see what traffic jam is in store on 66 or 495.

i can't wait...

to use the gigantic outdoor community pool behind my house
to live closer to all the familial support that i am certain to receive with the arrival of #3: (grandparents, aunts, uncles)
living in a house with updated bathrooms. i'm so over the 1970s. :)
getting rid of stuff we've acquired throughout the years: it's therapeutic and one thing alex and i have in common - we are not pack rats.
to live 5 minutes away from farsi school and latvian school.
to decorate a baby room the proper way
to live within our means
to possibly return to my old job

moving day is sunday. it won't be easy. i move a lot slower these days and tire easily. but, we should be settled by october when we will accept this permanent guest into our new home:

The Highs and Woes of Pregnancy

2011-06-02T02:27:00.000-07:00

the highs:

- requests for hair playing by all family members are fulfilled

- requests for watermelon juice are fulfilled and even ready upon arrival without requests

- my new J Lo butt

- daily belly kisses from the soon to be middle child

- smiles from random strangers

- ultrasounds

- buying cute baby clothes

- eating for two

the woes:

- eating for two and weight gain

- waking up every night at 2:00am and not being able to fall back asleep until 5:00am

- waking up hungry at 2:00am and feeling incredibly guilty for satiating my hunger

- incessant peeing

- maternity clothes

- the possibility that by the end of this pregnancy, i will wear a size 10 shoe

- the inevitable waddle

- the inevitable burn while peeing that is sure to rear its ugly head post-delivery

- unsolicited opinions on potential baby names

- feet and face swelling

i have about 4 months to go. it's going to a be a loooong summer. thankfully, my aunt and grandma are coming from iran in a few weeks and i plan to play the pregnancy card and get very spoiled.

on a side note: yesterday, my husband hit my brother-in-law's car while backing out of the driveway. this morning, i side-swiped my husband's car while backing out of the garage (why was it parked outside anyway?!?) and ran over A's tricycle in the process. i think we just need to S L O W down a bit. can you imagine the telephone call to geico? "hello, yes, i'd like to report that my husband, a mohseni hit another mohseni yesterday in our driveway and today i hit my husband's car in our driveway." something is rotten in the city of clifton....

Happy 9 Year Anniversary Babes!

2011-05-25T23:31:00.000-07:00

so he doesn't play with my hair 15 min a day or accompany me to the movies; he doesn't share my desire to decompress and watch reality shows, he makes we watch martial arts movies at home and TED talks (which i have actually grown to love and appreciate), and he doesn't write me daily love poems anymore, BUT...

he is the most amazing father, the most supportive and patient husband, has a mind that never sleeps and even comes up with business ideas in his dreams, introduced me to avocados and mushrooms and turned me into a lover of food when all i ever cared about was chocolate and ice-cream, he is an incredible doctor who is loved by his colleagues and patients, and the sight of him still manages to give me butterflies after a few days absence...

THE RESULT OF 9 YEARS OF MARRIAGE:

another baby girl due 10.10.11

we done good babes. we done good.

Babymoon in Spain

2011-04-25T10:53:00.001-07:00

unlike the women in the rest of spain, mallorcan women prefer to keep their tops on. sorry alex.

a busy street in madrid. good luck trying to find your friend lamp post guy.

yes, you are seeing 2 sets of man hands. pregnancy sucks.

a typical lunch

we just got back from a nice relaxing babymoon. some highlights and revelations include:

1. eating amazing dinners courtesy of our hotel owners

2. seeing my cousin and his lovely wife in a whirlwind stay in madrid

3. rekindling our marriage and remembering the reasons why i fell in love with this guy and married him. yes, sometimes both parties must be reminded. and as much as i have to drag alex kicking and screaming on this yearly one week vacay sans the kids, he comes to realize the importance and necessity in regrouping, relaxing, and spending quality time with your significant other.

4. read a lot

5. realized shopping while pregnant in europe only benefits husband and sister. i did manage to win a bet and got myself a post-baby garment.

6. i am quite large at 16 weeks. the united check in guy wanted to see a doctor's note permitting me to fly the friendly skies.

7. alex and i can never go back to a queen size bed. my big belly and his tendency to sleep on the bed as if he's making a snow angel cannot adapt.

8. shopping while pregnant without knowing the sex of the baby prevents you from buying adorable baby clothes from mini zara. alex would not let me buy this awesome beret that would have looked tres chic on my potential little boy. (we find out on may 26!)

9. was greeted at the airport by a nappy-haired 3 year old sporting a black eye and a huge gash on her face. oh wait. that's my kid! turns out she tripped. phew. but there's no excuse for the nappy hair.

me: "hey D, how many times did you and your sister shower over spring break?"

D: "once. but it felt like 3 times."

me: *speechless*

10. making a vow to seriously (fa real fa real) lose all the baby weight once the baby is born. i'm going to be honest here. in the back of my head i always had a feeling that we may go for #3, so i didn't push myself the way i should have to get rid of the excess 20 pounds around my mid-section. i mean what a waste - to go through all that trouble on a treadmill and deny my sweet tooth all for the sake of losing weight only to have it reappear again?! it just seemed absurd at the time (the time = the last 4 years or so.) i will regain my size 4 figure circa 2000 and if it requires the assistance of that hot spaniard with the cool glasses at lifetime fitness, so be it. i will have to give myself completely to him. i will have to trust my life in his strong, tan hands. i will...ahem.

in other news, my 7 year old needs braces. TWICE. now and in 5 years. D inherited my husband's teeth. i have no doubt. i am certain my teeth were not this jacked up. the proof is in the pictures and i just asked the hubs very nonchalantly how long he had braces and he replied, 8 years! i only had them for 1.5 years. it seems to me her father's genes are costing us a pretty penny: thousands of dollars in orthodontics, while my genes are saving us thousands in potential nose jobs. (about 95% of persians have very large adenoids) i think i understand now why my husband wears glasses and refuses to consider lasik surgery.

the leases on our cars expire in a few weeks and i'd rather get run over by an ice-cream truck than buy a mini-van, so i'm exploring all other options to comfortably seat a family of 5. pray for me. :)

The Mohseni Breakfast Club

2011-01-18T14:33:00.000-08:00

remember how the kids in the breakfast club had to serve detention on a saturday? the antagonist principal asked them to write an essay about who they think they are. the kids selected the brain in the group with the task of writing the essay. in the mohseni household today, it was like a scene out of the breakfast club. alex played the role of principal vernon, D was brian, and since i'm assigning roles here, i'll be claire the princess and A is allison - the basketcase. very fitting. :)

you see, d woke up in a foul mood. like her mom, she is not a morning person. the most stressful part of the day for me is definitely getting the girls ready for school in the mornings. it is a rare day that alex is around to help. on this lovely morning, she verbally assaulted her little sister for taking her spot at the dining table during breakfast. super dad was not down with that and miss d's attitude, so he promptly put D in time out in the little thinking chair in the corner. it seems a little ridiculous to put a 7 year old in time out and i think alex was thinking the same thing, so he upped his game.

he gave d a writing assignment. he asked her to write an essay explaining what is considered good and bad behavior in the morning. he said he expects to see the essay when he comes home tonight. of course d's first response was, "what the heck is an essay?" after a brief explanation, alex was off to work and i was stuck at home with two unruly kids. thanks fairfax county.

below you will find d's first essay. i'm sure there will be many more in her future. :)

Happy 7th Birthday, My Little Mini-Me! Mommy Loves You!

2011-01-06T07:06:00.000-08:00

A Year in Pictures...

The Camera Loves My Kid

2010-12-17T17:21:00.001-08:00

about 2 weeks ago, i'm looking frantically for our "nice" camera and can't find it anywhere. i don't ask alex just yet, because he rarely uses the camera and prefers to take pictures with his iphone. i wanted to avoid a lecture on my ability to lose things at all costs. (are you noticing a trend here? my husband was probably a professor in another life.) i continued my desperate search and began to panic. i finally decided to ask alex ever so nonchalantly, "hey, have you seen the canon?" i see it in his diverted eyes. i can read his mind. he's thinking: i'll see your nonchalance and raise you apathy. "oh yeah, i sold it last night." now picture me in slow motion with fangs and steam coming out of my ears: "you WHAAAAT? what do you mean? you sold it over night?? without telling me or asking me?" i think he realized the error of his ways and alleviated the imminent hysteria by assuring me he'd buy me a better camera soon. i leave for florida next week, so i told him soon needed to be soon. fa real fa real. growing up, my dad had a knack for shutting me up with the phrase: "halla bebineem chee meeshe." literal translation: "let's see what happens." intended translation: "i want you to stop nagging me. the answer is no, but i won't outright say it, for fear you'll nag me some more." he did his research. i did mine (thanks, imants!). i decided to buy the Olympus EP-L1. never have i read the owner's manual to anything and i've started reading the one for my camera. i've always had an appreciation and love for photography, but never pursued it. i've been dabbling with the camera for the past 2 days and am happy with the purchase.

two funny anecdotes i thought i'd share:

1. do not take a child under 8 to see the new harry potter movie. the following is a conversation between D and me that has taken place for the past 2 nights before bedtime:

D: "Mom, do robbers steal kids or just house stuff?"

T: "er, um...just house stuff."

D: "how do you know?"

T: "i know everything."

2. i can sleep easy now knowing that A may not bring me a "My child is an Honor Roll Student at ____" bumper sticker from school. girlfriend is a bonafide artist. she sees things and describes scenes in a way that i know i certainly did not at three years of age. for example: yesterday, she's on the toilet and is staring at the bathroom mat in front of her feet. D had just showered and A notices a wet imprint on the mat and proclaims, "Mom, come here and look at this duck in our bathroom." i walk over - slightly baffled, but then i remembered mohsenis make profound revelations in the bathroom. it truly looked like it was in the shape of a duck. have you ever looked up at the sky and noticed an animal, person, or object from the shape of the clouds? i used to do that...when i was 25. other artistic/poetic comments include: the leaves are dancing (leaves were blowing in the wind). that tree is crying (pointing to a weeping willow). we english teachers call that personification. :) and don't be freaked out by this comment, but she is very interested in the concept of death and recently asked about the whereabouts of my paternal grandmother. i explained she is no longer alive and she asks, "does she still have eyes, even though she is dead?" that's some deep, philosophical shit, no? she really surprises me sometimes.

sweet dreams.

Too Cool for School

2010-12-08T17:47:00.000-08:00

this picture makes me smile

my genes in full force

the end is near, ya'll. i'm days away from being fully licensed to teach language arts to the high schoolers of fairfax county! (what? you old farts didn't get the memo, either? they be callin English - language arts now.) it only took 16 weeks of my life, 174 gray hairs, and 453 "moooom, you're always on the computer" gripes from the kids! and now the hubs is on my case to get a job - ASAP. now, wait just a minute mister. 4 score and seven years ago (really 8), i've either been pregnant, working, or staying at home and raising two pretty cute, semi-well-behaved kids. i have yet to enjoy the freedom i was given 3 months ago when A enrolled in preschool. now that i'm done with this intensive teaching program and have written 50 papers (yep, that's right!), peer critiqued 160 papers and have read hundreds of pages, can i please get a minute to myself?? there is tennis to be played, half-marathons to be trained for (your eyes do not deceive you), weight to be lost, children to be spoiled, and holidays to be enjoyed.

and really? is there going to be a fabulous job opening right smack in the middle of the year for little ole me? i think not. and even if there is, i'm sure there will be others in the fall of 2011.

i just need some quality time with me, myself, and i. 6 hours a day to be exact. i need some peace and quiet and solitude to make up for the fact that i've been busting my balls for the past - oh soon to be 8 years of my life since i became pregnant and gave birth to our first and soon to be 7 year old daughter, miss d. just having written that i am a mom to a 7 year old still makes me freak out just a little. woah. how and when did my kid grow up so fast? girlfriend is already in a band and everything. she's the lead singer too. they have band practice every tuesday and wednesday at recess and on those mornings she asks that i pick a - and i quote, "sassy" outfit for her to wear.

anyway, where was i? so i'm trying to really savor the last months before i enter the work force, hand in time sheets and immerse myself in the world where girls wear ugg slippers to school and the boys all look like shaggy from scooby-doo (my astute observations from my one week of student teaching at a local high school).

i will now share with you one of the papers i wrote during this semester. my teacher liked it so much, that she sent it as an email to the rest of the students to read. it felt like 3rd grade all over again - my heyday as teacher's pet. we had to write a metaphor about what it felt like to develop a lesson plan for our future class.

Teaching Your Child How To Ride a Bike

One of our many responsibilities as a parent is to teach our child how to ride a bike. It can be a long, arduous learning process for some children, while others learn rather quickly. The various stages involved in teaching kids how to ride a bike are akin to the development of the culminating project for my poetry unit.

The student who enters my 9th grade English class has had her training wheels for quite some time. She has learned how to read and write or pedal and steer, without having to worry about keeping the bike upright. As I teach her about the similes, metaphors, rhythm and rhyme found in a poem, I am walking alongside her and asking her to think about the poem's meaning or balancing on the wheels of the bike alone.

Once she has demonstrated successful pedaling and steering or poetry analysis and identification of different poetic forms and literary devices, I can gradually raise the training wheels higher off the ground so that the bike is a little more unstable. As my student gains confidence on the less balanced bike, eventually she will be ready to have the stabilizers removed all together and will be able to complete a culminating project. When I see she is comfortable with the essential understandings and adept at answering the essential questions through formative assessments, I remove the training wheels from the bike.

I then hold the back of the seat of the bike and one handle-bar. I push and run along with the student, instructing her to keep pedaling and look straight forward. She begins writing her own poems or finding poems with a common theme. I take my hand off the seat when I feel the student is balancing on her own accord. I give some words of encouragement and constructive feedback as I review her outline and rough drafts and take my hand off the handle bar, allowing her to ride entirely by herself and complete the project. It is an exhilarating feeling to witness her ride the bike on her own and hand in her completed project. I feel a sense of pride that I have taught her a valuable life skill she can enjoy and use throughout her life. I feel a sense of pride that I have made a small difference as I did when I taught my six year old how to ride a bike.

***

i will admit that i told a little white lie in the last sentence: i haven't exactly taught D how to ride a bike just yet. i mean, come on. you gotta remember- i have a law degree too. it's not like i can just forget my roots. there's got to be some BS in there somewhere. :)

My Life is Not a Science, But the Shit is an Experiment

2010-10-25T17:25:00.000-07:00

(that's D and A. believe it or not, they're still 6 and 3.

although at times it feels like they're teenage gang members.)

it's been a while. i'm back by popular demand (well 3 loyal followers to be exact have asked for a blog update. i'm looking at you shar, imants, and ali). how's everybody doing tonight? the girls and i just returned from the running store and costco. apparently, i need to add personal assistant to my glorious resume. the hubs asked if i could go on a wild goose hunt for him and buy him new running shoes. you see he is running a marathon this sunday. in california. the marine corps was all booked, so we did the next best thing. booked tickets to san francisco, so he could partake in the joy of running 26 miles for god knows what reason. (who in their right mind feels the need to run 26 miles? i swear, i am not going to spend my days wheeling him around or waiting for him to catch up to me with his walker if he develops bad knees, bad ankles, achey joints, what have you...i'm going to be too busy playing hokm, getting my weekly peer-e-zany hair blowout, and spoiling my grandkids.)

did i mention he signed my kids up for some races too? A will be running 10 yards. and D will run .25 miles. i can just see it now - my girls are going to turn into running addicts like their daddy and i'll be the lone-slacker-fatty in a family of athletic runners. great. i will say this, i ran (for the most part) 5 miles yesterday and i felt pretty good about myself. it made me feel like i could eat crap for the rest of the day, guilt-free. but on a serious note, i'm actually considering running a half marathon next year. just to say - yeah, i did that. i'm a badass. i asked the hubs if he'd get me a snazzy gift if i ever ran a half marathon and he said he would. and don't you shake your head brother in law of mine. that would be quite the feat (i mean think about - taraneh running. for 13.1 miles. hello??) and quite worthy of a handsome reward. i've had my eye on a nikon d300s (+ several awesome lenses) for ever.

after the cali vacay, i will be teaching 30 hours in a local high school. i will most likely teach 9th grade honors and regular and a 12th grade AP Literature class. i'm nervous, anxious, and scared shitless. i subbed the other day for a first grade class and at the end of the day, the kids asked, "were we awesome?" and i lied and replied, "yeah, you guys were awesome!" they responded, "but, you yelled at us the entire time, we couldn't have been awesome." busted. what can i say? there were 4 kids in that class that were so unfocused, disruptive, and annoying. i gotta work on my classroom management skills. i've researched, read about, and written countless papers on it, but putting into practice is a whole other story.

i can't believe it's almost november. where does the time go? i cannot believe i will turn 25 this summer. haha. i have got to make sure that i exercise more and use under-eye cream daily. to this end, i went to lululemon and bought myself some cute exercise clothes. i was tired of wearing the same ratty workout clothes from 1998. i have this theory, that if i look and feel cute exercising, i will do it more. (please don't judge me aforementioned brother-in-law) so far, i've worked out 8 of the 11 days. not too shabby.

that is all for now my loves. i will do my very best to update more often, but these teaching classes are killing me softly. (i have to read 100 pages a week, write 3 papers a week, and peer critique 10 papers a week for 16 weeks. 8 down. 8 more to go.) it warms my heart that you still come back and check up on this little blog.

The Camel Clutch - and I Don't Mean a Purse

2010-08-18T09:35:00.001-07:00

it was 2 am in the morning and i couldn't sleep. i had watched 6 episodes of entourage and was wide awake. (p.s. love sloan and eric) i was at my parents' house in my old bedroom and decided to peruse through the contents of my nightstand. i found some interesting stuff. they included: what appeared to be a love letter to my husband from a latvian girl. it was from 1998, so it passed the stank test, since i met my husband in 1999. i would like to get it translated though (inga - i'm looking at you). i swear i have no clue how it got in my nightstand. it was the first time i had ever seen it. for real. it was in a ziplock bag alone with a bunch of pics from my husband's glory days at latvian camp. i found some old birthday cards and letters from friends. one particular birthday card from 10 years ago made me tear up. we are currently "separated" and i don't mean distance-wise. i also came across a book, entitled, "a book about me," that i had filled out when i was younger. this entry cracked me up:

the strongest person i know is ___________.

rather than fill in my mom or dad, i took the sentence very literally and wrote Hulk Hogan. yes folks, i used to be a die hard fan of the WWF. randy macho man savage (let's not forget the lovely elizabeth), jake the snake roberts, and the iron sheik were my heros of the day. how i got into this and how my parents allowed me to watch this nonsense and prohibited the show married with children is beyond me. i also found a packet of persian names that i had printed out while pregnant with A. it reignited the third child itch, but only for a second.

i am about to start a new chapter in my life. classes start for my quest to become a high school english teacher. i have a pile of homework due on the first day of class and asked myself - "taraneh, what have you gotten yourself into? - but only for a second.

because i know full well why i'm doing this. i want to go back to work. i want to interact with people! i want to edit papers, read books, and inspire kids - rather than jail them. i loved being in the courtroom and cross-examining witnesses. i loved the people i worked with, but i didn't love having to send a kid away to jail because he never had anyone to look up to, or be inspired by - or have anyone that believe in him for that matter. i don't want to get all sappy here. but it's true. teaching will be much more rewarding than what i was doing before.

my little girls are growing up and it's time for mommy to shift some focus onto herself. this will be good for my sanity, good for my kids, and good for my marriage. i'm not gonna lie, it's going to be nice to spend my own money without any guilt. and getting dressed up in the mornings, missing my kids, and shifting some more responsibility to my husband. "honey, can you make dinner - i've got a stack of papers to grade...honey, can you put the kids to bed, i'm exhausted from work and have to work on tomorrow's lesson plans. thanks doll!" he'll probably frown, grunt, or sigh - but only for a second.

Dear Tooth Fairy:

2010-06-30T14:45:00.000-07:00

my daughter means business. girlfriend lost a tooth. literally. and wants to get paid.

she had a loose tooth for weeks. and waited. and waited. and when it finally fell out during khale day (aka spend the day with your wonderful aunt), it went missing. so here is the letter she started to write today before she left for camp. it's hilarious. i hope you enjoy... see translation below. :)

translation: thank you for all the money (thus far). my tooth just fell out (on sunday). i am sorry i lost my tooth. i would really appreciate...to be continued.

p.s. i'm just happy she didn't flunk kindergarten. :)

I Get It Now

2010-06-28T10:56:00.000-07:00

i thought i'd spruce things up a bit and change the layout. honestly, the pink was kinda getting to me. let me know if the new template gives you a headache.

a couple of years ago, when the iphone first came out, my husband proclaimed, "today is the best day of my life." i was offended, insulted, and unamused. you mean to tell me the best day of your life was not our wedding day? it wasn't january 6th when we had our first born? or june 26th? the birth of our second born?! but you see, my husband is an apple fanatic. not a lot of families own an apple desktop, mac book pro, 2 ipads, and the latest iphones. we do. he loves apple, the way i love movies. and i found myself proclaiming, "this is the best weekend of my life," more than once this past weekend. i went to the afi silverdocs documentary film festival and saw movie after movie after movie. i waited in standby lines outside with the 95 degree sun pounding on me and barely noticed. i saw 5 films on saturday and 3 on sunday. i would have seen more on sunday, but my dad flew back from iran and it would have been utterly rude if i wasn't there to welcome him home. (believe me, i thought about it. but with one grandparent out of the country, i wasn't going to risk getting on the bad side of one of my saviors for the summer.)

so yeah - i was in heaven. i was alone for the most part and really don't feel like a loser going to a movie by myself. i always manage to get a fantastic seat right in the middle. my sister came to two movies with me and took my kids swimming on sunday to allow me another festival day. bless her heart. these films were extraordinary. the directors were also there for Q and A sessions after each movie, which was a real treat. an added bonus was the live presence of some of the subjects of these films.

my favorite films include:

budrus = a film about the power of a palestinian village to peaceably fight, in an unarmed movement, when it is threatened with destruction by Israel's separation barrier. Ayed Murrar, a family-man turned activist in the film, came onto the stage after the film ended and i was so caught off guard and overwhelmed by his presence, that my eyes started welling with tears.

monica and david = an intimate look into the first year of marriage of two people in love...who have down syndrome.

circo = a glimpse into the life and struggles of a family involved in a traveling circus in rural mexico.

the movies are so riveting and poignant. they show the every day struggles of people in the world and make you feel like a chump for thinking *you've* got problems. movies are like an escape for me - my refuge for a short while. i can't wait to go back next year!

Aloha!

2010-06-06T17:45:00.000-07:00

amazing views...look at the water!

deep thoughts by taraneh

the 2nd hike my body could not go on

one of the best burgers i've ever had

highlights from a much needed vacation with the hubby, sans kids:

but first - i'd like to thank my mom, in-laws, sister, mary-ann, zan amu and elham for making this trip possible. i am deeply indebted and incredibly lucky to be blessed with the love and support of the above-mentioned people who not only took care of my kids but as a result took care of me, my well-being, and sanity.

kauai is a magical place...i feel refreshed, rejuvenated, and relaxed. hello tan lines. i needed this trip. i needed to be alone with my husband. i needed to eat in peace. i needed to sleep in peace, without changing the soiled bed sheets of my 2 year old night after night. i needed to go to bed on my time and on my terms without having to read the 6 year old 849 books before bed. i needed to just lay on a beach or by the pool and read to my heart's content without worrying about kids drowning, kids peeing in the water, kids wanting a snack, kids taking a nap, kids getting bathed and dressed...you get the picture.

now to some of the highlights:

- did a grueling 12 mile hike up a mountain to see the most incredible views

- got to try lychee and sugar cane at the fabulous farmers' markets

- got 2 tennis lessons and i'm now i'm really hooked and want to get lessons here too

- stayed in the most amazing hotel - best i've been in so far - the grand hyatt in poipu

- saw jake the bachelor and vienna by the pool. apparently jennifer anniston, nicole kidman and george clooney (drool) were also on the island, but i didn't see them.

- read an amazing book - little bee

- watched seasons 1 and 2 of curb your enthusiasm

- back and forth discussions of having a 3rd. i don't know if it was the heat or what - but alex really wants to go for #3. he pulled the 'imagine life without mohsen card' and it's tempting. i know i'll have regrets in 5-10 years if we don't. but right now, today, i can't. i'm close to reaching personal goals with career and weight. and i really love sleep (and my boobs). on the trip, i kept looking for signs to help me decide. at the hotel, i saw this young, good-looking couple with 2 cute daughters and i said to myself - that's my sign - this content, family of 4...and 10 seconds later this little boy comes out of nowhere and screams, "mommy! daddy! can we go swimming? pleeeeassse!" and i proceeded to mutter "oh, shit!" under my breath. did i mention i have until friday to decide. alex is funny. :)

the summer is upon us...and it's going to be a busy one. 3 weddings, relatives from iran, mom is going to iran, summer camps, birthdays, beach vacation with the kids, and classes start for me mid-august. i'm ready.

You Make Me Happy When Skies are Grey...

2010-05-26T03:54:00.000-07:00

8 years ago....TODAY:

my sister did my make-up for the biggest day of my life

in the chaos, i left my veil at the hair salon and had to throw a piece of organza on my head when i walked down the aisle

i made a vow to cook ghorme sabzi

in his vows, alex mentioned something about oatmeal (can you tell we're obsessed with food?)

i danced polka to super trouper for my first dance

i was listening to my dad and father-in-law give the world's longest speeches

i gave a speech telling my brothers-in-law that they were going to be the amus (uncles) of some really cute kids

i sang you are my sunshine in front of 250 people (american idol is not calling any time soon)

at the end of the night, alex and i are quoted as saying we want 5 kids

i married the man of my dreams - the same man i met 12 years ago at the iranian students' foundation meeting at UMCP with green eyes and a sexy accent, dressed in a brown cashmere sweater, wearing black combat boots. and on that day i came home and promptly informed my mom and sister that today i met the man i am going to marry. talk about a girl getting what she wants...they don't call me T-Bone/Ice-T for nuthin'.

happy 8 year anniversary babes! es tevi milu!

I am sorry to say, you are NOT the biggest loser...YET.

2010-05-12T18:33:00.000-07:00

so i've been doing pretty well with the whole diet experiment. i haven't had chocolate or ice cream in days and surprisingly, i'm not really craving it. sometimes i think about greenberry, but that's about it. i allow myself 2 helpings of greenberry during weekends in maryland. i'm enjoying the kashi cereal with blueberries for breakfast and for lunch, my sister introduced me to the most fabulous general tso's vegan chicken from whole foods. i have two vices that amount to 300 calories per bag - freeze dried mangos and bananas from trader joes. i can't help myself. it's too good and i eat an entire bag in one sitting. i'm not the "just have a taste" kinda girl. it's all or nothing with me and i've been a little greedy.

i've hit the gym, tried yoga (and pulled a neck muscle), worked out on the elliptical machine in the basement, and played tennis. i am in love with tennis and am considering taking lessons. playing a sport like tennis or soccer doesn't really seem like exercise to me. and not because i don't push myself - but because it's FUN. i considered getting a personal trainer at my gym - but now i think i'd enjoy a personal tennis instructor so much more. (hubba hubba). i'm 2 weeks away from our hawaiian vacation and 4 weeks away from my friend's wedding. i've dropped 7 pounds, but have a long way to go. i'm slightly concerned about all the hiking alex wants to do in kauai. miles and miles of it. i hope i can keep up. and it won't be much of a romantic vacation if we split up - he hikes while i lay on the beach and read, but damn that kinda sounds like music to my ears right now.

mother's day was lovely. we had a nice brunch at my in-laws, courtesy of alex: crepes with delicious berries and mangos. the homemade whip cream kinda made up for the massage i was hoping for, but didn't get. for lunch, i ate moby dick and ice-cream cake, with my side of the family (wait, i guess i have had ice-cream recently).

in other news...i'm a full-fledged substitute teacher ya'll! i've worked twice. once with 6th graders and once with kindergarteners. here are some observations:

6th graders are totally disrespectful, wild, and suffer from ADD. i'm not gonna lie. i kinda hated subbing for those brats. it was tough. i spent most of the day disciplining, rather than teaching about the civil war and distance = rate x time. i had to take away calculators - kids were sneakily doing their math hw during language arts (not on my watch, buddy!) and had to move kids half way across the room because they were talking and disrupting the class. i was relieved when the teacher returned early and i was sent to the principal's office to help with mindless, administrative tasks. (the principal loved me and put me on her priority list of subs - go me!)

the kindergartners were a joy. i'm beginning to understand why my mom thinks i should follow in her footsteps and become a kindergarten teacher. the kids were innocent and well-behaved. and so freakin cute! it's amazing how in such a short period of time, i could pick out the future jocks, flirts, goths, loners, nerds, etc.

i can only sub when alex is off. so i've had to turn down some sub jobs that i really want - like middle school english, high school english, high school esol. i hope i'll be able to work in those types of classrooms to really get a sense of what it would be like to be an english teacher and if i can handle the older kids.

i keep delaying the iran post. speaking of iran - my dad left yesterday for a 2.5 month stint and my mom will be gone the entire summer (gulp). i am going to go cry now. wait. i just had an aha! moment. shiiyet. i'm like the little engine that could...i think i can i think i can...come up with some way to get me some me time. two words: summer camp.

Day 3 and 4 & Some Faves

2010-04-30T04:17:00.000-07:00

have been eating healthier and attempting to snack less. in the sweets department, i have indulged in a few snack size oreo cookies here and there and dried mangos from trader joes. have had no chocolate or ice-cream, though i'm guessing i will go to greenberry tomorrow, since i haven't been in oh so long. but i will limit myself to the 5oz as opposed to the 8oz. however, i will not deny myself the mini-chocolate chips. (baby steps people) i also would like to go to cava at some point over the weekend- and will likely eat locamates for dessert (delicious greek donuts drenched in honey) since they are practically the only dessert my sister can ever order in a restaurant because of her dairy allergy. as you can see, i make sacrifices for the people i love. :)

the biggest news i have to share is that i finally made my man the ghorme sabzi i promised him in my wedding vows 8 years ago. better late than never. it was not as painful as i had imagined. of course buying the ready made frozen sabzi from yekta helped tremendously. it turned out pretty darn good if i do say so myself and i regret not taking pictures to document the momentous occasion. (and to have proof for later in life when alex is old and demented and will likely accuse me of never fulfilling my promise.) i suppose this means i will have to make it again at some point.

here are a few of my favorite purchases of late:

a pair of betsey johnson pearl earrings. love the diamond inserts. all of my non-gold earrings are made by betsey johnson. i love her jewelry. eclectic and unique. i'm a sucker for her bow collection.

my favorite flower is the orchid and its many versions. this particular beauty was purchased from trader joes for $9.99 and will hopefully remain in tact for another week or so.

knobs from anthropologie, which i plan to use as hooks in my closet to hang my necklaces. it was love at first sight with the bird knob...

my comforter from anthropologie is amazing. i've been begging alex for a new mattress for the past 3 years, but this comforter makes me totally forget about our awful mattress. alex gave me the dirtiest look when he first laid eyes on it. i will admit - it is dainty and a tad feminine. but a few nights later, he claimed it was growing on him.

well, i'm going to break out the summer clothes and get ready to go to georgetown with the family unit...

Day 1 & Day 2 of Get Skinny NOW

2010-04-28T04:25:00.000-07:00

day 1: i ate a banana for breakfast and set out with A to buy my beloved mac eyeliner that had run out in iran. for lunch i ate a tomato, avocado and tuna salad. dinner included turkey tacos minus the generous helpings of cheese and sour cream that i am accustomed to. i will admit i probably used 1 tablespoon of each and ate 2 taco shells. whatever. for dessert i had 2 delicious mangos. my whole foods had a sale on a box of 15 mangos (9.99). not too shabby.

day 2: in the morning, i ate kashi cereal with fresh blueberries. (go me!) i decided to hit up costco, home depot and walmart for gardening supplies (flowers, dirt, etc. and yes walmart has a surprisingly good selection of flowers). at costco, i refrained from buying those amazing croissants, madeline cookies, and a very berry sundae (this last item was torture). i was slightly naughty when i tried a free sample of a cinnamon roll (but only had one! come on, how can you go to costco and not partake in a little sampling??) A asked for a slice of pizza and i had 3 bites. wasting food is a horrible thing, you know. i was able to pick up some lovely flowers to plant from costco and was disappointed with home depot's collection. i headed over to the shopping center that has a walmart.

however, i took a detour to target. everyone and their mother (in my case - sister) has been blogging about the $30 cynthia vincent wedges. so i had to see what all the fuss was about. of course, they were sold out. so i casually strolled over to the snack aisle and noticed a bag of snack size oreo cookies. oreos - where have you been all my life? i arrived home from iran and while unpacking - alex shoved an oreo in my mouth. i have never been an oreo lover. i must have been 5 when i ate my last oreo. but i was pleasantly surprised by the delightful chocolate sandwich cookie! so i ate 9 of those which is equivalent to 130 calories.

i find that the more i try to deprive myself and not eat sweets, the more i obsess about them. i felt that by the end of day 1 i was grumpy and cranky and think it was because i had somewhat starved myself. for dinner, i ate alex's homemade hamburgers (which are to die for) and had 2 potato roll buns (300 calories).

i haven't exercised yet. i need to get my asthma in check. i hope to hit the gym tomorrow and do a light cardio workout and some weights. i also want to change things up a bit on this blog. i primarily use the blog to discuss motherhood - but i'd like to include some of my other interests as well. stay tuned. same bat time. same bat channel.

you know you're fat when...

2010-04-26T04:51:00.001-07:00

you can't zip up your bridesmaid's dress for a wedding that is six weeks away...AND

you return from iran and step on the scale to find that you have gained 5 pounds and didn't even snack throughout the day (are daily glasses of watermelon juice really considered snacks? i think not!)... AND

your skinny friends are running half marathons and your lazy ass can't even run a mile without getting an asthma attack.

iran post coming soon...but i am on a mission and need to announce it the world (well the 10 of you that read this blog). i am going to lose weight this month by eating healthy and hopefully working out, if the asthma permits.

did i mention my other incentive for shedding the pounds and getting my college body back? HAWAII. the husband and i will be celebrating our 8 year (eek!) anniversary late may and i'd like to make him drool by seeing me all tan and oily in my new one-piece juicy bathing suit that i scored from tjmaxx for $49.99 last year and can't quite fit into just yet.

watch out world!

current weight: 147 (that number is all kinds of embarrassing)

goal weight: 127

i know 20 pounds in one month is ridiculously impossible - but i hope to achieve this goal by my 34th birthday, which is july 14. perhaps i will keep a daily log of my progress for your entertainment pleasure.

my little village girl

Five More Days Until Take Off...

2010-03-20T05:38:00.001-07:00

it's been a while...i can't really explain my absence. i've been lazy, somewhat unmotivated, and busy. we leave for iran on friday and i couldn't be more excited and nervous. nervous because i'm hoping my husband and bro-in-law don't experience any issues leaving the country...my nationalist self was in full effect these past few months in defending my country and convincing them that everything would be fine and that they had nothing to worry about. (fingers crossed) i'm also anxious because this will be the first time i'm visiting the motherland with my little nuclear family minus one furry 2 year old. will D behave and be warm and friendly or be totally intimidated and shy around my relatives? will she make no attempt to speak farsi and make her mother look bad? will my husband honor me with his presence to the countless family parties or would he rather be stuffing his face with kabob?

there's a chance i may extend my stay there by a week. i'd like to spend some quality time with my grandmother who is frail and likely to feel slighted, insulted and neglected if i don't. but part of me wonders if i can really be away from A for 3 whole weeks!!

speaking of A - potty training is going well. the dancing, clapping, and cheering continues...i'm excited to enroll the Mohseni sisters in summer camps. this will be one of the few times that the girls can participate in the same camps together. so far, they are signed up for princess camp (much to alex's dismay). it's really a glorified ballet class.

alex is on to project #2. and it doesn't involve my bathroom or kitchen. he is building a tree house for the girls. yes. a real tree house around a big oak tree and everything. i'm slightly concerned about safety, but his work in the basement bathroom has put my mind at ease.

on wednesday i will attend a substitute teacher orientation. substitute teaching will be nothing like actual teaching, but it will give me a glimpse of what i'm getting myself into. i just hope it doesn't completely turn me off the path i'm heading towards. i remember that a sub = paaarty, no discipline and zero respect. but being a mom of two feisty girls has prepared me to not be a pushover. i will whip those kids into shape if they disobey. :) plans are in place to start taking classes in august to become a full-fledged teacher.

and that concludes my update. i promise to be better about blogging. the sun, warm weather, and change of wardrobe totally lifts my spirits. happy persian new year! i leave with you the dancing sisters - in full halloween and persian tribal costume. i taught them everything they know... :)

My Husband is a Rock Star

2010-02-09T19:05:00.000-08:00

if there's one thing i hate, it's admitting when i'm wrong. and man was i wrong about my husband. a few months ago, he decided to renovate our basement bathroom: a 70s style bathroom with the ugliest wallpaper, tackiest vanity and an eye-sore of a yellow toilet to match. i was all for updating the bathroom. i was very excited about adding a shower and increasing the value of our home should we decide to sell in the future. we got a few estimates that were way out of our budget, so i thought we'd shelve the project for some later time. but my husband got that look on his face. the same look he got when the iphone came out (and he unabashedly proclaimed: this is the happiest day of my life) he wanted to take on the bathroom remodel project solo. his persian genes were in over-drive. you see persian men think they are the jack (or javad, if you will) of all trades. they think they are doctors, plumbers, carpenters, mechanics, engineers, all wrapped in one nice hairy, big-nosed package.

so i was less than enthused for a number of reasons:

1. my husband has zero experience in laying down tiles

2. my husband has zero experience in plumbing and installing showers

3. my husband has told me about the hell involved in removing wall-paper

4. my husband was going to rely on a book to take on this endeavor

5. my husband works like a dog and now was going to spend his "free" time in the dungeon rather than spending it with me and the kids??

6. my husband is going to spend all this money and quit midway

7. i'm going to have to console him for being a quitter and stroke his ego

in the 3 months that ensued, many trips were made to home depot. many days were spent listening to banging, sawing, and sighs of frustration from below. i can now rest my raised eyebrows and set aside my doubts. he did it! he really did it and it looks glorious! [insert hallelujah music here.] i'm incredibly proud of him. i really had my doubts. but, he proved me wrong. he is seriously talented. he came across many obstacles, but his determination and perseverance produced a beautiful work of art.

about 3 minutes after he installed the last finishing touch to the bathroom - the towel bar - he says to me, i can see us living in this house for another few years. (what a coincidence!) i'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that he put so much heart and time into building this bathroom, that he can't part with it anytime soon and wants to reap the benefits. i don't blame him.

the thought of sleeping in peace in the morning, while my husband showers and gets ready downstairs at 4:30am makes me giddy. i have to admit, i'm a little jealous. i want a luxurious bathroom to call my own. i'm really hoping he'll feel sorry for me and offer to remodel "my" hideous bathroom. i know he needs a break now. but like his desire to buy a new gadget creeps upon us once a month, i know his desire to work with his hands will creep upon us again. and this time i won't be so skeptical and negative. i'll be the loving, supportive wife who takes full advantage of the fact that she's sleeping with a handyman. i've got grand plans for the kitchen.

before (gasp!)

(gag)

drum roll please...

isn't it lovely?

You Talkin' To Me?

2010-01-31T06:18:00.000-08:00

last week my 6 year old got off the bus in a very sad, somber mood and i asked her what was wrong. her response: nobody wants to sit next to her on the bus. i try to explain that most of the kids are older and have been riding the bus for a long time and have made their friends. i promise that next year will be different. i try to explain that it's not that big of a deal and to not let it get to her. i can't help but feel a twinge of sadness that my daughter has to feel alone, upset, or insecure.

a few days later, on my first day back at the gym (after oh 3 months), i took dina to the gym childcare center while i worked out. she made fast friends with another girl there, but once again she wasn't her usually chipper, talkative self when i picked her up. on the car ride home, she said a boy at the gym told her that he hated her. oh god! seriously?! i told her that usually that means that they like you but are confused about their emotions. i explained, how could he possibly hate you, if he doesn't even know you? don't even sweat it, D. i immediately call her dad for some fatherly advice and over the speaker phone he tells D, that if he ever bothers her again, she should use some of her tae kwon do moves on him. (not exactly the kind of reassurance i was looking for - but it did make D smile, so i let it slide. )

these incidents have brought back a memory from my own childhood. i lived at my aunt's house for a while in elementary school and i would dread the bus stop every morning. there was a boy, a year older, but 2 feet taller, who made my life a living hell. he called me every name in the book and threatened physical harm on me on a daily basis. i never said a word, which i think made him angrier and fueled his desire to get a reaction out of me. one day, i had just had it. i wanted to put this bully in his place and stop the agonizing misery i felt. so i turned on the water works (this was the day i realized that i could one day win an oscar) and walked through the door of my aunt's house. my favorite cousin, who had started his first year of college was sitting at the breakfast table and rushed over to me. are you ok? are you hurt? what is going on? i explained the daily torture i was going through. and he assured me that he would take care of it.

the next morning, he walked me to the bus stop and asked, is this the kid who keeps bothering you? i looked down at my feet and nodded my head. the next minute plays out like a scene out of the godfather or scarface. my hero of a cousin, in essence, told that boy if he ever talks to me or even looks at me again, he will either kill him or beat the shit out of him. i can't remember which. such colorful words were used that morning, that were not yet part of my vocabulary. the kids eyes starting tearing up, he went pale and from that day on, never spoke to me again...until years later. i wonder - maybe this blue-eyed monster had a crush on me? maybe he was intrigued by the shy, ridiculously cute - unibrowed persian girl - who kept to herself and never uttered a word to him...(side note: he ended up dating one of my best friends in high school and i never let him forget what an asshole he was to me. thankfully, my friend came to her senses and dumped him.)

i'm thankful that i had my cousin serve as my pseudo-bodyguard that day. but looking back, i kinda wish i had the balls to stand up for myself. i should have bombarded him with a wave of persian insults - *khak-to-saret chaghaloo, boro gom sho kesafat, bemeer pedar-sag, khar-jendeh...what's the worse that would have happened? he would have hit me? that's when i would have brought my cousin over to break his legs. oh well...

i wish i could protect my little girls from all the name-calling, teasing, hurtful incidents that are sure to come their way. (at least they don't have a name like "taraneh," which would have made life 10X harder for them.) but i do want them to be strong and able to handle these predicaments on their own. how do you raise confident, secure girls when there are so many biatches and bullies in the world? who knows, maybe one answer is martial arts. i just had a scary thought. peer. pressure. gulp. i can already foresee the wrinkles, grey hair, and sleepless nights. 10pm curfew makes perfect sense now.

translation:

*dirt on your head fatso, get lost dirtbag, die - your father is a dog, your sister is a slut. when telling someone off in farsi, it is very common to insult one's relatives. check out D's killer moves in tae kwon do. she done make mama proud.

On a flooded Desert Highway, Cool Rain in My Hair...

2010-01-23T10:41:00.000-08:00

just got back from a one week "vacation" in sunny, clear-blue skies california. strike that. it rained 80% of the time! the weather was miserable. the flight to cali was awful. my 2 year old refused to sit in her seat for 6 hours with her seat-belt fastened. i don't think i got one night of good sleep. the 6 year old's asthma is back with a vengeance. a double bed just doesn't cut it for me and alex anymore after sleeping in a king for the past few years. and when i decided to sleep next to the 6 year old, i spent most of the night getting kicked, slapped, and coughed on. did i mention that i almost died on the way home on a 15 row plane due to an insane amount of turbulence from palm springs to denver?

i just need to lie on a beach, under the hot sun, with sand between my toes, a good book in my hands, the sound of waves crashing in my ears and the smell of guacamole close by.

is it bad to sometimes daydream about my girls growing up a little faster? i want to sit on a plane and read my magazine in peace. i want to eat indian food at a restaurant without sharing mango lassi, worrying about my kid making a mess or talking too loud. i want to walk around and explore a new city without pushing a stroller and mediating fights about who can sit in it.

but could i really give up listening to my girls giggle over the most random thing? or give up watching them do impromptu "performances" involving polka and singing atal matal? or stop receiving the endearing back tap when my 2 year old gives me a hug? or give up watching my 6 year old watch my wedding video over and over again with a huge grin on her face?

not a chance. no matter how much i complain, i wouldn't trade this for anything. i mean, really? i wish they could stay like this forever:

Happy 6th Birthday Dina! We All Love You!

2010-01-06T08:13:00.001-08:00

A Flurry of Events

2009-12-29T12:28:00.001-08:00

cuties on christmas eve

our snowman is cooler than your's.

that is what you call love.

i took the xmas tree down today and have begun the long, arduous task of decluttering our home. today, my husband wants to sell the house and move to washington dc. key emphasis on "today." you see my husband changes his mind on a daily basis about where our future home should be. one day it's mclean. the next, it's reston or centreville. we even dabbled with living in spain, italy, latvia and iran! i wouldn't be surprised if tomorrow he'd like to move to korea (his food of choice).

there is something so freeing about throwing stuff away. with each item of junk, i feel lighter. for example, i have no problem throwing away my daughters' art work, unless they're absolute masterpieces. on several occasions, she has noticed her art in the recycling bin and proceeded to remove it and scold me. one of the many benefits of having a 2 year old is that you can deflect blame onto them. "oh D, *shaking head* A must have accidentally disposed of it."

i don't think anyone else in my family is this way. certainly not my parents. last year, i attempted operation declutter the azani home and it was an utter disaster. i probably spent one week of my life cleaning out their home - from closets to bookcases, from dresser drawers to those bathroom cabinets that store god knows what from god knows when. of course, i had to ensure that my parents were nowhere in sight. my dad was in iran at the time and my mom would go to work 8 hours a day. the house was gleaming. it looked like a staged home, ready to be placed on the market. the fruits of my labor probably went stale after a week. my dad returned from iran and i was bombarded with questions: where is this? where is that? did you throw this away? i can't believe you planned to donate this?! when i arrived at my parents' house the following weekend, they were back to their old ways. after much huffing and puffing, i came to the realization that pack rats can't be expected to change over night, unless they absolutely want to and view their stuff as a barrier to peace and tranquility.

we had a lovely xmas. alex got me a kindle. the home screen reads, "alex's kindle," but i pretend not to notice. the new yorker, where have you been all my life? D now has the easy oven i coveted as a child and i think i'm more eager to bake stuff with it than she is. her aunt bought her a cupcake maker. as you can see there is a theme here and i have absolutely nothing to do with it. ahem. let me quickly change the subject. D will also add tae kwon to her resume. her dad is most excited about his dainty daughter becoming a slayer of all things with penises.

D's birthday is next week and we've opted to have a small family party as opposed to last year's 3 birthday parties! i have promised to bake cupcakes for her kindergarten class, brownie troupe, and latvian school. oh my! we plan to buy her a real bike from a real bike shop. :)

i signed up for a zumba class. i've heard great things and look forward to shaking what my mama gave me. i'm going to make a genuine effort to eat sweets in moderation and to exercise more in 2010.

A has been talking up a storm. the stuff she says is pretty incredible. oh, and speaking of storms - alex went on his solo vacation and after a mere 3 days alone, was trying to end his trip early to come home, when the snow storm hit and cancelled his flight 3 times! i think lessons were learned and certain people who shall remain nameless were more appreciated. :)

Got Mail?

2009-12-17T11:48:00.000-08:00

A and her beloved Mimi

most recent pic of the girls with their cousin

you're not going to believe this: my 5 year old is the proud owner of an email account. i know! crazy, isn't it?? what was my husband thinking? never did i think, i would have to compete with my daughter to get on the computer to check email in the morning. at least not for another 8 or so years. today, i woke up at 7:30am, and found miss D typing away...

T: good morning, D, what are you doing?

D: oh, checking my email.

T: i glance at her inbox and girlfriend has 67

new messages! granted they're almost all from her grandpa flooding her inbox with pics of alex as a cute, chubby baby, but still...

D: mom, how do you spell ____? and these questions persist for a good 10 minutes.

alex had the bright idea of opening D a gmail account, to help reinforce spelling, reading, and writing. and it seemed like a great idea in theory, until she started asking me a million spelling questions...i am trying really hard to be patient, but some of the questions are really unnecessary.

D: how do you spell inga?

T: D, it's right in front of you, see where inga wrote her name at the bottom of her email to you... :)

D: oh yeaaaah....

T: mmmhmmm.

so we've had to place some limits. no checking email until bed is made, clothes are worn, breakfast is had, teeth are brushed, and mommy is asked, "what can i do to help?" did i mention she is a pro at using my iphone, making calls, perusing through pictures, watching videos and listening to music? i just can't believe how tech savvy she is. i'm pretty sure when i was her age, i was still enamored and preoccupied with big bird and elmo. i can't believe my kid was never into sesame street. "that show is for babies, mom," she says with utter disdain.

while on our way to the gym, i had had enough of listening to the itsy bitsy spider, so i ever so inconspicuously change the music and my new favorite song, lady gaga's bad romance, is playing and D asks:

D: mom are you sure lady gaga is the only one singing? because i definitely hear two people singing at the same time in some parts of the song. i just can't believe my 5 year old is using lady gaga in a sentence. i know her uncle is shaking his head right now. :p

in other news, alex is on day 3 of his vacation. the kids have been video chatting with him and miss him a lot. in fact, last night dina had a "nightmare" (after being in her bed for a whole 2 minutes) "because she missed daddy so much," and proceeded to watch the rest of so you think you can dance with me. also, daddy is in the process

of remodeling our basement bathroom and i'm truly impressed. i even got down and dirty and helped install some of the floor tiles. here is a pic for those who require hard evidence.

what? you don't wear hello kitty pajamas to lay down tiles?

i dragged myself to the gym today. i hadn't been in a few months. and i felt great afterwards and have begun the slow and arduous task of losing some weight and getting fit before our trips to iran in march and hawaii in july for a friend's wedding.

i haven't been to iran in 8 years! most of my family there has never met my kids. i can't wait to return to the motherland to see family, eat pizza (yes, eye ran has the best pizza i've ever had - even better than italy!), drink smoothies (sheer-o-moz), buy jewelry (you have no idea), and just walk the busy streets surrounded by the faces and voices of my people.

my resolutions for 2010 are:

1. drop 15 pounds

2. speak more farsi at home

3. become a teacher

4. get A potty-trained

5. practice more patience with the girls

6. sell the house and move to DC

7. take one class for me and learn something new

happy holidays!

First Comes Love, Then Comes Marriage, Then Comes A Third Baby in a Baby Carriage?

2009-11-29T05:09:00.001-08:00

The Honeymoon Phase - please ignore my bushy eyebrows if you can.

a rare pic of me pregnant - (the front side is too scary). please note the hideous birkenstocks i wore for 9 months due to ginormous swelling of feet and ankles.) not fun!

and then there were three...

is there room for one more?

if you know me, you know about my love for movies. i must have been an actress or a movie critic in another life. on friday, my dad and i saw 2 movies - back to back. and we even paid for the second movie too! what better way to not get sucked into the black friday madness? the first film we saw was nicolas cage's bad lieutenant. eva mendez also starred (i'm way prettier- ha!) and it was okay. nothing spectacular and i'm a little baffled as to why my trusty rotten tomatoes gave it a whopping 85%. the next movie we saw was the road. the storyline seemed interesting. the movie surpassed my expectations. one reviewer writes:

"...see it for the simplest of reasons: Because it is a good story. Not because it may be important. Not because it is unforgettable, unyielding. Not because it horrifies. Not because the score is creepily spiritual. Not because it is littered with small lines of dialogue you will remember later. Not because it contains warnings against our own demise. All of that is so. Don't see it just because you loved the book. The movie stands alone. Go see it because it's two small people set against the ugly backdrop of the world undone. A story without guarantees. In every moment — even the last one — you'll want to know what happens next, even if you can hardly stand to look. Because The Road is a story about the persistence of love between a father and a son..."

viggo (don't you just love that name?) mortenson is incredible and i stand corrected regarding his acting talents. the little boy was amazing as well. enough about movies. the point of this post is to tell you that the itch is back. no, not the itch to become a soap opera actress. the itch to have a third child. ok, let's be honest. the itch to have a son. when i returned home from the movie, i immediately emailed alex:

i think i want to try for a boy, quick before i change my mind!

i then began to search the web for sure fire ways to conceive a boy. here is what i learned:

1. apparently chance is on my side - statistically there are 51 boys for every 49 girls.

2. the shettles method says that a couple should have intercourse no more than 24 hours before ovulation and no more than 12 hours past ovulation (this seems way too complicated for this lazy chick)

3. deep penetration from your partner will deposit sperm closer to your cervix, allowing the more aggressive Y sperm to get a head start in fertilization. ahem. no comment.

4. change your diet to include red meat, salty snacks, and soft drinks (no problemo!)

5. let your partner initiate sex and focus on his pleasure. legend says if the man climaxes first, you'll have a baby boy. legend can kiss my ass.

6. schedule your love making sessions for odd numbered days of the month. (can you picture me filling out our calendar and penciling in "love making session" every other day?)

7. have sex at night, preferably when there's a quarter moon in the sky. (seriously people? a quarter moon? i should have been one of "them" and taken astronomy in college dammit.)

8. have as much sex as possible, since boys are conceived during the "honeymoon phase" of a relationship (the people who wrote this must have had kids out of wedlock or given birth exactly 9 months after their wedding)

9. have the man drink coffee before sex, since this causes the sperm with Y chromosomes to become more active. (it's a good thing alex loves coffee!)

it's such a huge, no turning back decision. do i really want to put my life on hold again? do i really want to travel with 3 kids? (and put my grand travel plans on hold for another 4 years, cause people with kids under 3 should really stay home) and shuttle/chauffeur around 3 kids?? do i really want to go through 9 months of the hell that i call pregnancy? do i really want to deal with diapers, poop, burp cloths, baby gear (darn! i already donated most of anais') all over again? do i really want my little baby anais to suffer from middle child syndrome?! *shudder*

my true fears are:

1. will the baby be healthy?

2. will our parents be able to babysit 3 kids at once when i am in desperate need of some me time? (which is usually every weekend)

3. will i go insane?

4. can we afford a nanny?

5. if the plan fails, can i survive raising 3 teenage daughters?

6. will i have to sit through 4 more years of latvian school? did i just admit that out loud?

so if you see me ordering a T-bone steak at a restaurant, you'll know why. if you see me shoving coffee down alex's throat, you'll know why. if you see a quarter moon and alex and i all of a sudden have to jet, you'll know why. if you hear me complaining about back problems on even numbered days of the month, you'll know why. if you see alex walking around with a limp, you'll know why. if you see alex and i all lovey-dovey with each other, holding hands, and blowing kisses across the room, it's because we're trying to recreate the honeymoon phase of our relationship, etc. etc.

if you don't see any of the above and find me teaching shakespeare in a school classroom or frolicking in the sands of spain with my girls (with my new and improved flat belly), you'll know i decided to stick to the status-quo.

it's now or never...

A Humbling Experience or Two

2009-11-15T17:09:00.000-08:00

i had really Great Expectations of myself. but, i am so pissed. failure is a really hard pill to swallow. i took my praxis II: english content knowledge, language, and literature exam and really blew it. there were 120 questions on the exam and i ran out of time and randomly bubbled in the last 20 questions. i never thought i'd be *that* person. i don't get the results for another 4 weeks, but i'm pretty confident of my less than stellar performance. The (rude) Awakening: i may have delayed my new goal by 9 months. (i checked they don't have a summer program.) i might as well wear a big S on my chest like Hester in the Scarlet Letter. a big S for STUPID. i never timed myself while taking the practice exams. i'd do 20 questions here. 30 questions there. la di da. my Don Juan of a husband woke up at 6:00am to take me to this test and had to put up with my foul mood for the remainder of the day.

i'm really embarrassed. i mean fuck. i can pass the virginia bar with little to no studying (shhh don't tell my mom who took care of my kids for 3 weeks so that i could "study.") but i can't pass this shit?! i was amazed to hear that the girls around me were taking the exam for the 5th time!! is me memorizing who wrote Gulliver's fucking Travels really a reflection of the kind of teacher i plan to be? ok. enough of the allusions. i mean really - how was i going to casually slip in A Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock?

i'm still crossing my fingers for a miracle. and i guess i have to keep studying for a possible retake in january. this has been a humbling experience. maybe i'm not the rock star i thought i was and maybe i need to invest in a damn stopwatch.

in other news, i recently won the best wife of the year award. next month, my husband is taking an 8 day vacation without his loving wife and kids. it started out being a bike trip with me and the kids. it was crazy impractical, but that's what he loved about it. i was to attend spinning classes 5 days a week in preparation. he then came to his senses and asked if he could go it alone. i will admit, i was a little hurt at first. my ego was a little bruised. (and damn it this was the push i needed to lose some weight!) why would he not want to spend his free time with yours truly? he wants to take a vacation from moi? the nerve! the hurt turned into resentment. if anyone should take a solitary vacation around here, it's me! and the resentment dissipated. and in it's place came understanding. my husband works his ass off and his free time is mostly spent with me and the kids and if he wants some time to himself to bike 40-50 miles a day, he deserves it.

there are a few caveats (i didn't become a lawyer for nuthin):

1. he has to travel within the U.S. i'm sorry, but i cannot rely on the foreign police to help me find my missing/kidnapped/spandex-wearing husband.

2. he must call me twice a day to let me know he is alive and well - scratch that. alive and miserable-from missing me so much.

3. we will go to hawaii and spain in the summer, just me and him.

Man Gribants Est (I'm Hungry in Latvian)

2009-11-03T13:31:00.001-08:00

i had grand plans tuesday. i arranged for my dad to drive down to virginia to care of the kids so that i could take my beginner latvian class. i arrived at my sister's house (my sanctuary in MD) at 2:00pm, after making my obligatory trip to mama lucia and yogiberry (a girl's gotta eat). i receive a phone call from GW, letting me know that the class has been cancelled tonight due to a family emergency. i was bummed. i was excited to start the journey of learning another language. and did my husband think i was the coolest, awesomest wife for taking on this endeavor? did he support me and encourage me and look at me with pure love in his eyes?

this is what i had envisioned:

T: honey, i have a surprise for you.

A: what is it, my love?

T: i'm going to learn how to speak latvian!! i signed up for classes!

A: *eyes tearing up.* *getting all choked up* you. did. this. for me?

T: yes, of course, for you. (and for me so i can know what exactly my mom-in-law is saying to you when it's just the 3 of us in a room and it's like i'm not there) but yes, for you darling.

A: i'm so touched. you're amazing!! thank god, you agreed to marry me.

this is how it really played out:

T: guess what?! i signed up to take beginner latvian. there will be 6 sessions at GW. i'll need you to take care of the kids 3 tuesday nights and my dad will help out on those nights you're working. isn't that great?!

A: this sounds totally inconvenient. we already know how to communicate in 2 languages with one another - why do we need to add another language?

T: *blank stare. totally deflated.* this is clearly not the reaction i was going for. i was expecting a passionate kiss, ok fine - a pat on the back. jesus. a high five or a thumbs up sign at the very least.

maybe he'll appreciate this once the class is over and i'm whispering sweet latvian nothings in his ear. maybe then, he'll see that this was my way to show him that i love the guy and want to learn more about where he's from and what he's all about. i also like the feeling of doing something for myself. it's not belly-dancing (which i would really love to learn) or photography, but it's still being in a classroom environment and learning something new. i really miss that. and i know this sounds crazy, but i am really looking forward to going back to school to pursue teaching. being a mom is fantastic and fulfilling, but it definitely doesn't hurt to do something for you and have a goal to strive for.

i got to catch up on 4 episodes of curb your enthusiasm, which totally helped lift my spirits. larry david reminds me a lot of my husband. maybe that's why i love him so much...

****

update: i got an email yesterday that the latvian class has been totally cancelled. the teacher had some issues, which i'm sure are completely legitimate, but dammit, i'm really disappointed. oh well. they may offer the class again in spring...

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

2009-10-28T17:20:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-22T17:11:00.000-07:00

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

2009-10-20T10:56:00.001-07:00

(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...

2009-10-07T12:20:00.000-07:00

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...

2009-10-03T04:59:00.000-07:00

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.

"It's All Relative in West Virginia"

2009-09-27T18:02:00.000-07:00

well hello mr. bison.

latvians heart birch trees

i'd rather be shopping - j/k!

my ideal vacation = white sand, clear blue water, hot sun, massages, fantastic book, delicious food, dancing, beautiful sunsets, jet-skiing, burnt nose and cheeks (i'm olive skinned and wear blush 24-7 people), the best desserts, sleeping in, and NO KIDS (i love them, but can't i get a week free of diapers, poo, cheddar bunnies, questions, the berenstain bears, nose-picking and daily laundry?)

alex's ideal vacation = running, hiking (for miles), fishing, canoeing, rain, bugs, rush rush rush (my husband cannot relax and is a very impatient man. he complains constantly about my walking pace - which i swear is normal. he has told me numerous times that emails addressed to him by me must be short, succinct, and get the point across in the first sentence. but i digress...), delicious food (the one thing we can agree on), waking up at the crack of dawn, WITH KIDS.

tomorrow we leave for west virginia: the land of incest and rotten hygiene. i hope i haven't offended any loyal west virginian readers. to make matters worse, i will have zero access to television, the internet, and decent restaurants and i will be forced to hike (probably in the rain given my shitty luck with weather and vacations) for miles - with 2 whiney kids who enjoy walking as much as i do (on a scale of 1-10, i give the act of walking a 2.5 - unless there is a worth-while destination such as a movie theater, a haagen dazs parlor or a loehmanns at the end of the tunnel.) the only thing keeping me sane right now and preventing me from entering a deep depression is the prospect of eating smores. i will make it my mission to eat smores for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. fat ass? flabby arms? cellulite? double chin? pssssht. it's my fuckin vacation. afterall, i have to blend in with the hillbillies. ouch. *shaking head* i'm so ignorant. blending in again. ok ok, my work here is done.

the pics above are from our trip to jackson hole, wyoming. my initial reaction when i heard we were going there: shock and mortification. i'm not going to lie. it was a truly magical place.

dare i say west virginia will be the same?

Driving Miss Dina

2009-09-15T04:15:00.000-07:00

a mother's work is never done. we are life coaches, personal shoppers, stylists, housekeepers, nurses (bed pan = diaper in my book), butlers, chefs, and personal assistants to our kids. i have a new job title to add to my resume: chauffeur. dina goes to school 7 days a week. here is her schedule:

monday - K, ballet

tuesday - K, soccer practice

wednesday - K (don't be fooled - I have to drive A to her program on Wed and Thurs)

thursday - K

friday - K

saturday - soccer game, farsi school

sunday - latvian school

since alex has a crazy, inconsistent schedule - much of the chauffeuring duties fall on me.

(note to self: next time you decide to marry a doctor, make sure he's a dermatologist - he'll be home by 5pm every day, never be on call, and you'll be wrinkle-free.)

i can't even imagine what would happen if i ever got a DWI or had to amputate my right leg. my poor kid would not be well-rounded and thus not get into any good colleges, and possibly reside with me forever. *double shudder* (note to self: lay off the vodka on girl's night out, unless you've hired your own chauffeur.)

12 years ago i saw a fortune teller in iran, who told me that one of my future kids would be a soccer star (never mind that this same person said i would give birth to a boy and a girl). so i'm thinking my little soccer sensation could be D. she shows some promise in the video above. i have a feeling A is going to be a wrestler or football player - but she could be my ticket to a college soccer scholarship, because D is just so dainty.

as a parent, you live vicariously through your kids and sign them up for activities/sports that you wish you had done as a child. mom and dad: thanks for the gymnastics, ice-skating (mom's dreams), violin, piano, and santoor (dad's dreams), but they really weren't my thang. my dreams for the girls: guitar or piano, basketball, soccer, art, persian dancing, karate and languages.

i have to introduce the girls to everything (exhausting myself in the process) and eventually let them decide what they like best. as kids get older, some of the roles i mentioned above will certainly diminish. (you better believe my duties as a housekeeper, butler, and stylist will (this last one i will forego kicking and screaming). but i know that for the next 11-14 years of my life, i will be a driver to my kids until they get their licenses. i may even have to buy a van down the road (*shudder*) - as a 3rd car of course if i want to partake in some car-pooling action with other moms in my boat. (are you loving the transportation references?) i can't even think about incorporating A's future activities into my daily schedule, for fear that i may have a thelma and louise moment and drive my car over a cliff (unless of course i meet brad pitt along the way.)

Doing vs. Getting it Done

2009-09-10T10:22:00.000-07:00

**now a word from our sponsors: the entrepreneur in my husband thinks some of you will actually click on these ads to the right and make me some money. i love how all the ads have something to do with poop. awesome. as you were.

motherhood is the hardest job i've ever had. there are days i wish i was "working" again or back at school taking final exams and writing essays. (why did i ever complain? it was all a piece of cake compared to this) and you know what i've slowly come to realize. just because i have these thoughts, doesn't make me a bad mother. the reality of motherhood is not at all what you see in commercials and movies, where mothers are emanating this glow while breastfeeding (it sucks) or playing on a see-saw with their kids (makes me wanna vomit). those hallmark/kodak moments definitely happen, but not every single day.

i used to feel an enormous amount of guilt about ever feeling ungrateful about my situation, because i made this choice. and i know it's better for my kids. i should feel lucky that my husband's income allows me to stay at home. but motherhood is a lot of work. it requires one to be incredibly nurturing, patient, warm, and giving. i love my kids to death, but i do not love every single minute of every single day that is devoted to their care. i spend much of the day alone, cleaning up and caring for my girls - making sure they're entertained, clean, clothed, fed. kids are attached to your hip, they think they live in a restaurant, barking out orders for pasta or pizza, make mess after mess, demand a lot, and without fail or consistency, cover you in snot, vomit, or shit.

not to mention the fact that it's hard to never have an uninterrupted conversation let alone carry an adult conversation. it's hard to go anywhere for more than 2 hours with kids and when they're with you, they want and need your constant attention (mom i'm bored. mom i'm tired of walking. mom i'm hungry.) sometimes the worst is the day to day routine and monotony of it all. it's the same day over and over. wake up at 7am. make breakfast. feed kids. clean up. play. learn. make lunch. feed kids. clean up. pray for nap. make a snack. feed kids. play some more. mediate fights. make dinner. feed kids. clean up. bath. read bed-time stories (after the 139th book, you inevitably get asked, can you read me one more book?) put kids to bed by 8pm. my 13 hour days with them can be brutal. it's hard to be around anyone for that long.

and just because i'm busy, doesn't mean i'm not utterly bored. some days, i just gotta get out of the house. often times, i get through the day by turning mundane tasks into major events just to kill the time and have something mildly interesting to do. errands become momentous undertakings. i'm proud to say, i've totally lowered the bar of expectations. a day in which laundry is done or the kids' beds are made is a triumph. the highlight of a day becomes a trip to the grocery store (you know all about my love for costco) or farmer's market, going to the gross germ-infested indoor mall playground, going to the park, taking dina to ballet, soccer, latvian school and soon farsi school (oh my).

but i have to remind myself that kids are little for a very short time. my baby just started kindergarten. it seems like yesterday, my husband and i were living in philly in the middle of winter 2 days before D was born and arguing about whether we would walk the 2 blocks home from the hospital after i give birth, or have him pick dina and me up in a car with the car seat. (never let a man decide these things: i could barely pee let alone walk after pushing out a watermelon through my you know what). i read an article a few years ago that mentioned a truism that all parents should heed. the author wrote, "i wish i had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less." i have to cherish this time together, the hugs and kisses, even the poop (ok i think that's taking it too far) and 'can i sleep with yous,' because pretty soon they'll be teenagers and want nothing to do with me and i'll be left spending 12 hour days with my husband. insert commercial-like image: i'm glowing and euphoric as i sit next to my husband and look into his eyes for hours on end. ha!

Till Running Do Us Part

2009-09-01T17:37:00.001-07:00

about once a month, i engage in some serious whining. this complaining is usually directed at my husband. this month's topic: my husband's lack of romance. i can't remember the last time he made plans to take me out on a date. against people's court's advisement, i take matters into my own hands. i line up babysitters (the g-units), make reservations, do my hair, and tell my husband we have plans friday night.

**note to guys: just because you marry the girl, doesn't mean you have to stop writing poems (he is going to kill me), surprising us with chocolate on our cars while we're in LSAT class, accompanying us to the movies (oh that stopped 24 hours after we said "i do")

T: "honey let's see a movie tonight."

A: "i don't do movies."

T: *blank stare*

back in high school, i was the go to person for relationship advice. i doled out relationship advice like it was my job. carolyn hax who? shiiyet. i had zero experience of course, unless you count my boyfriends in kindergarten, 3rd and 4th grade. as a persian girl, growing up with traditional persian parents, i was forbidden to associate let alone date the opposite sex. that didn't stop me of course. funny anecdote: i remember being on 3 way (coolest invention ever at the time) with a boy and one of my friends. we asked him for his list of superlatives (i.e. best looking in our grade, best body etc.) and guess what? yours truly was voted for sexiest voice on the telephone and most likely to xerox her butt. *applause* thank you. thank you. it's such an honor. [please note: i did gain some redemption 9 years later by actually winning best smile in law school (probably my proudest moment)] so why is it that this self-proclaimed relationship guru is having difficulty in her own love life?

in an effort to shut me up, my husband took matters into his own hands yesterday. want to know what his idea of doing something romantic entails? why it's going out for a run together. with the kids. and where does the romance fit in exactly? he pointed out: jogging side by side of course. silly me. call me old-fashioned, but i would be perfectly content with some flowers (orchids please), chocolate (i'm not picky as long as it aint dark), a massage, 20 minutes of hair-playing, or a hallmark card that reminds me of my awesomeness. running together makes me feel anything but romantic. in fact, it has the opposite effect. in my mind, i'm cursing him and counting down the minutes until this "quality time together" is over. my husband loves to run. he would do a monthly marathon if he had an understanding wife that could tolerate all the training time away from the family. he even bought the above hideous shoes. that's how much he loves running.

so back to yesterday's love affair... i feel way too much pressure going for a run with my husband. i just can't keep up and i feel like i'm holding him back. oh and he thinks i'm some kind of superwoman that can run and simultaneously carry on a conversation. hello! i have asthma. know your family's medical history doc. so after mile 2, he says to me, "okay i'm going to run another few miles and meet you back at the car." wtf? that doesn't sound very romantic. dropping me like a hot potato. i told you i cramp his running style. but i wanted to kiss him right then. soap opera style. i was going to get to turn around, take a leisurely stroll back to the car, listen to my ipod and enjoy some peace and quiet.

T: "sounds good A, see you soon, take your time" and he stops me dead in my tracks.

A: "here you go honey. (he passes the jogging stroller reins to me-mind you there is 80 pounds worth of heavy cargo inside) if you're going to walk back, you might as well get some exercise and take the kids with you."

T: *blank stare* (i'm really good at those.)

oh and guess what loverboy told me this morning, all bright-eyed and bushy tailed:

A: "i think i'm going to do the marine corps marathon in october."

T: taking imaginary gun and pointing it at my head. gulp. "oh, really?"

A: "you know what that means. lots of training. it's only 2 months away."

T: "sounds great babe. i'm sure the kids will love training with you."

A: *blank stare* (now that's a first)

Never Trust a Ho

2009-08-25T14:18:00.000-07:00

you know you're in serious trouble, when your five year old (going on 15) asks the following questions:

1. D: what does "untouched" mean? (referring to the song "untouched" by the veronicas)

T: uhh let me demonstrate. come here D. i use my index finger to touch her shoulder. you're now touched, but i'm untouched. get it?

2. D: what is a ho mommy and why shouldn't i trust a ho? (referring to that song, the title escapes me, where the singer says, "don't trust a ho, never trust a ho...shush girl, shut your lips, do the hellen keller and talk with your hips. yeah. real classy. totally awesome lyrics. ha!)

T: a hoe is a dangerous gardening tool D. one should be very careful when using a hoe. *innocent look. gulp. is she going to buy this???"*

D: scrunches face, raises her eyebrows, and gives me a confused look that tells me she'll accept that answer...for now anyways. phew.

3. D: when are you going to download boom boom pow for me?

T: soon D. soon.

4. D: why do girls have boobs and boys don't?

T: uhhh, good question, ask your dad, he's the doctor.

5. D: daddy, did you have a girlfriend before mommy? what did you do with her? (man i wish i was there for alex's response to the latter question. )

i know i am largely to blame. but if you were forced to listen to the itsy shitsy spider, old fucking mcdonald had a farm, mary had an ugly ass lamb, and row row row your damn boat for the past 5 years of your life, you'd resort to 99.5 too. i promise. but my kid is too damn smart for her own good. she is a beast at picking up song lyrics. and she is not just singing for the sake of singing. girlfriend is paying attention to the lyrics, dissecting them, analyzing them, and writing op ed pieces and shit.

looks like i'm going to have to whip out the We Sing CDs again and put a jolly old smile on my face and sing along to hush little baby (while simultaneously daydreaming about daddy buying ME a diamond ring.)

good bye rihanna, black eyed peas, madonna, and miley (kidding! ok fine. i'll admit that 7 things i hate about you song is kinda catchy. shame on me.) i'll reevaluate in a few years.

Get In My Belly

2009-08-18T19:32:00.000-07:00

sorry i've been MIA lately. i've been busy traveling, gaining weight, and spending time with my family. i have gained 7 pounds this summer. add to that the 10 pounds of baby weight i never lost giving birth to A. you do the math. and i'm starting to notice it in places other than my ever expanding mid-section. i do double takes when i see myself in the mirror. woah check out that girl's double chin. wait. that's me. my skinny chicken legs are still in tact, but now i'm sporting some serious purdue chick thighs. my husband is constantly pulling on my former stick-man arms and there is at least an inch of fat in his grasps. and god, please forget about my prayers for a J-Lo ass. i was just kidding. (and what i really meant was J-Lo's ass pre Marc Anthony and kids, not preggo J-Lo ass) i want my flat ass (the one my asian friends and i would lament about in high school) back please. and can't i just once be like those bitches who gain weight in their boobs?

i'm growing old. losing weight has become a battle. my 114 pound high school days are over and i need to get a grip. i am a lone soldier fighting an army of ice-cream, cakes, tarts, cookies, heath bars, kit kats (or as D likes to call them:kitty kats), lindt chocolates, sohan (persian version of brittle), whip-cream, flan, creme brule, tiramisu, brownies, batter, etc.

but i'm sick and tired of retreating. it's one thing to take over my belly territory, but when you start fucking with my face and neck, oh i am going to go ape shit. insert 3- finger-Z snaps. a grit. and a 360 degree circular neck roll. shiiyet.

i am going to get my life in order. i'm going to figure out what i want to do: law, teach, write, open up a stand at my farmer's market, go back to school, dance, become a model (ha! just making sure you're paying attention), what have you. i'm going to stop turning to sweets as a quick fix or temporary fulfillment from what's really missing in my life right now. i'm going to make my husband fall in love all over again with that "persian princess" who was driven, ambitious, and skinny (aka smokin hot) in undergrad.

The Poop Scoop

2009-08-03T13:10:00.000-07:00

the pic that resembles "i'm constipated" best

i hope you're not getting too tired of reading about poo. but lately my life revolves around it. no really! A has developed a major problem with constipation and pounds of blueberries, blackberries, cherries, and plums have failed to work their magic. a typical conversation between me and my husband goes as follows:

A: hi honey.

T: good morning darling.

A: how are you my love?

T: i'm well. just enjoying my time with our beautiful, perfect kids.

A: you're the model mother and wife. i miss you. i want to take you out to dinner and a movie and shower you with expensive gifts. i'm the luckiest guy in the world.

HA! here is the real exchange between us:

A: hey.

T: grunt.

A: how's A? did she poop yet? what has she had to eat? (in an oh so accusing tone)

T: food.

A: make sure she eats lots of fruit. no milk. no pasta. no bread. no bananas.

T: check. check. and check. salute.

A: keep me posted.

T: ok. bye.

3 hours later:

T: finally! she pooped!

A: thank god! poor thing. what did it look like?

T: it was huge. and hard. and long. and i can't believe that thing came out of her cute little butt.

A: what's for dinner?

T: i have really bad reception here. i can't hear a word you're saying. see ya. byeeee.

end scene.

Alex, recipient of the world's best hubby award, took care of the kids for 4 days straight so that i could spend some quality time with my relatives visiting from iran. during those 4 days of utter bliss (did i just admit that out loud?), he got A off the bottle cold turkey and insisted that her milk intake was contributing to the constipation. i was skeptical. my husband is an ER doctor. he deals with stab/gunshot wounds and heart attacks on a daily basis. was he talking out of his ass again? (pun intended.)

finally on the last day of alex's mr. mom stint, A got very constipated. and i felt slightly vindicated. i was thinking to myself, "see, i'm not a bad mom, it happened on your watch too buddy!" in any case, it's time to take her to the doctor. my family (half are doctors and the other half think they are) insists that i should give her a spoonful of olive oil each day. (we tried this method and it really works! we gave her a few spoonfuls of honey and snuck in a spoonful of olive oil - she didn't even notice) i suppose it's better than a daily dose of enema for now.

my daughter is off the bottle at the tender age of 25 months. but i hope this doesn't hinder my future dreams of her becoming a supermodel (afterall, she is 95% in height - we just need to work on the 95% in weight impediment) as she now refuses to drink milk in any other form.

Shake that Healthy Butt, Baby Got Back...

2009-07-15T16:44:00.001-07:00

okay. so one of you readers has the evil eye. cheshm shod! in other words, my little girl was jinxed and i guess it's partly my fault for posting the picture of her adult-like poop in all its glory in my last post. last night was one of the roughest mommy nights of my life. i was up every hour tending to my severely constipated child. there is nothing sadder than seeing your child suffer and in so much agony because of a big, hard boulder of a poop refusing to come through. we had to administer a home made enema at 4am to no avail.

so this morning, i had to wrestle A into the car seat. (my brother-in-law advised that i should refrain from using the kids' first names to save them from future embarrassment and isolation.) she refused to sit on her bum. at wegmans, she refused to sit inside the grocery cart (and the cart with the kid-mobile attached to it didn't sway her either). clearly, her rectum was in some serious pain. i get an email from alex to pick up a prescription from the pharmacy, that will require another butt insert of sorts. i pray like i prayed before taking the LSAT, the MD bar, and right before giving birth to D and A. please god. please let A poop so i don't have to put anything up her cute little butt and further traumatize her.

we waddle our way up to the pharmacy counter and are told it will take 15 minutes to fill the prescription. we meander through wegmans in a sleepy stupor to kill time and as luck would have it - happen to stumble upon the diaper aisle, when A lets out a loud shriek, followed by a whimper, "mommy poo poo." there's no mistaking the smell. my baby has finally let out the hardest and biggest poop of her life. right then and there, i grab a bag of pull-ups, tear it open and remove one to replace A's diaper. there's no time for wipes. i am changing my baby's diaper right then and there in the middle of the grocery store and i don't care whose watching or how unsanitary it may appear.

seconds later, A is back to her normal, jovial self. we pick up the prescription anyway for future reference and make our way to see the "choo choo." needless to say, i have never been so happy to see and smell my kid's poop. although, i must admit, after just having changed A's 4th poopy diaper of the day, the jubilation is starting to wear off.

on a serious note, don't you think my kid could totally be a butt model?

Holy Shit!

2009-07-10T08:12:00.000-07:00

this post should come with a PG-13 disclaimer. i'm sorry for the graphic nature of the above picture. please do not be offended, but this is the reality of a persian mommy doing her best to potty-train her 2 year old.

this morning i woke up with a mission: to begin potty-training anais. i felt her daily announcements of her farts and number 2s were her way of letting me know, "mommy i'm ready to be a big girl now and this full diaper is cramping my style." so...when she woke up this morning, i took off last night's diaper and let her roam free. picture a baby chimpanzee. a few minutes later, i heard dina and anais in the bathroom together. dina had to go #2 and encouraged her little sister to do the same in her princess toilet. i thought to myself, how cute, the sisters are bonding in the bathroom over poo. two minutes later i hear dina yell, "mom anais pooped on the toilet! come look!!"

i run from the kitchen (where i was in the middle of making chocolate-chip pancakes) with so much pride and excitement - finally my daughter had taken her first successful dump in her little toilet. i'm skipping in the hallway, singing and clapping, "yayyy ana...good job ana!!" and arrive at the doorway of the bathroom to find the above monstrosity.

clearly i had misunderstood. anais pooped ON the toilet, not IN the toilet. (thank god it didn't happen on my beloved persian rug.) needless to say, this is not going to be very easy or pleasant. we are definitely not getting a dog anytime soon. how do dog owners do it? do they really get desensitized with picking up poo? does it become second -nature? *shaking head* in any case, anais is now rocking her stage 6 pampers cruiser diaper and i have no intention of potty-training her in the near future. anais can be ready, but i'm certainly not.

Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda

2009-06-10T12:36:00.000-07:00

I guess I’m not the kind of mom I thought I’d be:

I thought I would:

Have 5 kids

Raise perfect kids

Never raise my voice

Never lose my temper

Never leave a diaper on too long

Never turn on PBS Kids so I can check my email

Set up weekly play-dates

Be gung-ho about arts & crafts

Prepare nutritious home cooked meals every night

Have a spotless home, with color-coordinated bins for my kids’ toys

Look fit, skinny, and stylish with no sleep

Have loads of energy

Maintain composure and not appear desperate when husband comes home

Go back to work after spending a year or two with kids

Enjoy family vacations

Be the kind of mom my mom wants me to be

Be the kind of mom my mom was to me

Throw fabulous dinner parties

Never throw away my kids’ drawings

Never rush through bedtime stories

Update baby/scrap books

Never be so happy for nap time or bedtime

The reality is…that I’m exhausted. And sometimes I lose it. I mean really lose it. The frozen foods aisle of Trader Joes is my savior. My husband and I love each other too much to have a 3^rd kid. Dina is moody and whines more than my soon-to-be-2-year-old. Anais still doesn’t know her ABCs and 123s and loves to announce her daily farts (Ana gooz). I cannot get rid of 10 pounds of baby weight (which is sitting pretty in my mid-section). I would rather go on a vacation with my husband or girlfriends. I can’t wipe the huge grin off my face when my kids are tucked away in bed. In fact, I'll admit it - at times, it can be the highlight of my day. I often look like I belong in a zoo when my husband comes home from a 12 hour shift and I practically throw the kids at him when he walks through the door (unless I’ve put them to bed at 7pm).

I think it's time I let go of the guilt.

Like Fingernails on a Chalkboard

2009-06-08T05:24:00.000-07:00

my daughter dina had surgery on friday. watch the video and you'll see why. it actually sounds 10 times worse when you hear it live and in person. especially when you're tossing and turning in the bedroom next door and using the pillow to cover your ears to no avail. (note to self: next time you buy a house, make sure the master bedroom is on another level from kids' bedrooms.) as i was saying, dina had her tonsils and adenoids taken out on friday. and no it wasn't so we could get a better night's sleep. she has sleep apnea and trouble breathing at night. when she wakes up in the morning, she feels like she's had a horrible night's sleep. we're driving home from the hospital, and dina falls asleep. the snoring begins. i was a little surprised. but alex assured me it's because her throat is very swollen.

so i took care of dina by myself on friday and sunday. i waited on her hand and foot. i felt like i was wearing a popsicle tool-belt. and what thanks do i get? a big bouquet of whining. i know my kid just had surgery, but the whining is killing me. there is i don't want to take medicine whining. there is i am in pain whining. i want to watch tv whining. i'm hungry whining. i don't want to take a bath whining. i don't want to share with my sister whining. i want ice-cream whining (i must admit, i can relate to this one) i don't want to eat what is on my plate whining. i don't want to leave the park whining. and the list continues.

is it normal for 5 and 1/2 year olds to whine? what is the cure? i've tried ignoring it. i don't cave in. (insert scarlett o'hara's voice here) as god is my witness, i will not be manipulated by my 5 year old. i've told her countless times to ask for something in a "normal" voice. i thought we were way past this stage. when will it end?? if she's still whining in her teens, i'm assessing a 'whine fine' and treating myself to a massage with all the money i collect. my kid is not a very pleasant person when she is sick. (her poor future husband) i think she is secretly enjoying the attention. she is a drama-queen and what did i go off and do? i signed her up for acting camp. *shaking head* there you have it. in case you were wondering...my #1 pet peeve is whining.

addressing my mother: *stomping feet* i reaaaally reaaaally hate it mommy. and i'm so tiiiiiired. HELP!

Ode to Ice-Cream

2009-06-05T10:40:00.000-07:00

A compilation of photos that illustrates the concept of "like mother, like daughter..."

in this last photo - dina asks for a moment of silence...to honor the greatness that is ice-cream. amen.

So you think you can dance?

2009-05-31T15:43:00.000-07:00

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

2009-05-29T03:36:00.000-07:00

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?

2009-05-27T09:29:00.001-07:00

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

2009-05-26T16:25:00.000-07:00

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.