Let Me Tell You About My New Favorite Things ...

Disclaimer:  I am not getting paid to promote views, items or brands on this website. 

I sincerely hope I won't offend my faithful readership of three by expressing my personal views on small findings that bring me pleasure, discontent or misgivings, whether in Canada, the ME, or anywhere else. 

Unfortunately, I realize my new favorite things will bely my age and the blasé ​attitude to high-end items that has crept over me since arriving in the ME over six years ago.

It's sadly true that in a country where it's raining designer brands, I don't quite get as flushed and excited as I used to upon seeing storefront signs displaying Versaci, Ralph Lauren, Baby Dior (I kid you not), Fengali, BVLGARI, Prada (and the list goes on ...) at the local mall.  

Hard to believe one could become desensitized to the allure of the bling?  Well, let's stop and consider the local lady I met whose baby chomped on a diamond encrusted pacifier and was potty trained on a Swarovski diamond-studded potty.  If the idea of regurgitating on a Dior dummy doesn't seem entirely ludicrous, then surely the idea of pooping on diamonds is enough to restore sanity?  

Manalo Blahniks start to seem blah, and Christian Louboutins seem old hat when you witness a literal bevy of red soles treading in unison across the shop floor, the only thing visible within a congregation of loosely flowing abayas, hijabs and niqabs.

My former boss (who was a well-to-do local) was admiring my 200 QAR (about 55$ CA) Aldo tote bag last year.  She asked me if it was a "Longchamps" (I actually had to Google that ... I'm really not that brand savvy and ​bag mad).  Reality check: if those in the know can't tell the difference, is it really worth shelling out extra bucks on something that's going to get thrown on the car floor, chewed on by the cat, tripped on by Kiddo and stuffed 'til overflowing with receipts, tissues, perfumes, brushes, breath mints, crayons and snack bars?

I'm not entirely ​jaded.  I still have an occasional shopping spree left in me.

Case in point, I happened upon a sale last week at A.B.S. by Allen Schwartz.  I walked away with 12 items of clothing priced to sell at 10% of their original sales price.  Of course I was excited about my loot, but not quite in the same way I might have been a decade ago.  I got home and simply swapped one closet item for each new item of clothing I hung up (that's the O.C.D. in me ... allows me to get rid of the lovely size '0' skirt I will never, ever, ever, ever fit into again, donate it or bin it, and keep my closet manageable). 

No laying my bounty on the bed, no fashion show for Smilin' Vic and Kiddo.  Just extreme satisfaction at having found some really decent, stylish and properly fitting designer clothing ​at a near-bargain basement price.

And yet, every once in a while, I do manage to rediscover the "rush" of a really great find.  I happen upon a product or an item that I just know will be life-altering.  I've included a few of these most recent finds below for your viewing entertainment.  Warning, these images may prove disturbing to some.  In fact, please pass me a tissue, the pictures are a harsh reminder that forty has come and gone.

​Disney Gummy Vitamins.  What GENIUS thought these up?  I always thought Flinstones vitamins were the bees knees, but you will have to keep the jar hidden to keep the kids out (maximum 2 per day).

​Disney Gummy Vitamins.  What GENIUS thought these up?  I always thought Flinstones vitamins were the bees knees, but you will have to keep the jar hidden to keep the kids out (maximum 2 per day).

Wedge Crocs Sandals.  I SWORE I would die before EVER wearing a pair of Crocs.  But these little sandals are just perfect for our upcoming 2-week camping trip during which Smilin' Vic, aka The Packing Nazi, has declared we must limit ourse…

Wedge Crocs Sandals.  I SWORE I would die before EVER wearing a pair of Crocs.  But these little sandals are just perfect for our upcoming 2-week camping trip during which Smilin' Vic, aka The Packing Nazi, has declared we must limit ourselves to a pair of sneakers, flip flops and ONE pair of shoes each.  Seriously?

​Moulinex handmixer.  I only discovered the joy of a handmixer last year ... I don't know how I ever survived a day in the kitchen before then.

​Moulinex handmixer.  I only discovered the joy of a handmixer last year ... I don't know how I ever survived a day in the kitchen before then.

Take Me With You .... !

Not many words; the image says it all.​

There was J. from daycare, L. from Grade 1, M. her neighbor.  And now T.  

T. is special.  She's one of the BFF's.  

So many tears were cried tonight.

We often don't realize how much the first hello means until the last goodbye has been said.

The life of an expat child .... a thousand goodbyes.​

The life of an expat child.  Goodbye from a 7-year-old ...​

The life of an expat child.  Goodbye from a 7-year-old ...​

Subject: Sad News to Share

This is a post about beginnings.  It is about a cafeteria man.  This post is about endings.

Beginnings ...​

First off, this is my first "Me"-less/"ME"-less post title.  

It's why I started to blog.  Deep down, I knew the day would come when I would have that "Aha!" moment, that moment where I would just know that what I wanted to write about had so much more to do with everything else than with 'me' or the 'ME'.  And yet it has everything to do with both.  

In reality, I cannot entirely detach myself from the events around me, nor from the land around me ... to do so would make me disinterested.  But the time has come where me and the ME are just necessary background noise for this blog really.

In that sense, this post is the beginning of a new chapter.  One that has been a long time coming.  It is new, and yet it is a return to the old.  

It is the complete and utter realization that some things that would seem to have NOTHING to do with you can touch you at your core.  

Thank you <Naji>, aka 'Cafeteria Man>.  I dedicate this post to you.

The Cafeteria Man ...

This post was born after receiving an e-mail from kiddo's school.  The subject was simply:  "Sad News to Share".

It read something (very much) ​like this:

It is with great sadness that we inform you of the death of one our <school name> cafeteria workers, <we'll call him 'Naji'>, of Sri Lanka.  <He> was involved in an accident riding his bike to school early Sunday morning, April <...>.   

We can only imagine how proud <Naji's> family must have been of him.  He supported his mother, brother, and four sisters while he worked with <employer> the past seven years.  Our cafeteria manager, <name>, said <Naji> was a model employee and one of the hardest workers on <employer's> kitchen staff.  He was responsible for pasta preparation and service in the elementary school for many years and had just moved to the MS/HS cafeteria where he provided counter service as well as preparation for the chicken shawarmas we eat every day.  

<Naji's> unselfish commitment to his family serves as a model for all of us as he truly lived <school name's> values.  As a recognition of <Naji's> extended service to the <school> community, The Booster Club is directing the proceeds from the next hotdog sale on May <...> to <Naji's> family in Sri Lanka.  If you would like your child <...> to participate, please fill out the order form that will be sent home with your child this week. 

In addition to the Booster Club Hot Dog sale, <school> staff members have been making monetary contributions for <Naji's> family.  If you would like to make a contribution, please send it with your child in a sealed envelope or see any of our staff in the elementary school office.  Thank you for your thoughts and prayers for <Naji> and his family at this time.

Intermission ...

I can't ​quite find the words to express what I felt when I read the e-mail the first time.  This e-mail sent to our school community; this e-mail that conveyed such a soft-spoken profound sense of loss.  What did I feel?  Sadness?  Regret?  Shame?  Guilt?  Remorse?  Anger?

All of the above?​

Sadness

at such a young, promising life lost?  at so many others in similar circumstances toiling every day in this country to provide a better life for their loved ones back home?

Regret

that I'd never met him?​  that I've never met so many of these workers who come to work every day with the weight of the world on their shoulders and a smile as bright as the sun?

Shame

that I'd never really thought about the people who prepare Kiddo's pasta every ​Wednesday, those really special people who give her an exciting and much anticipated break from her regular everyday humdrum boxed lunch?  that I'd slip 50 QAR to the teaboy at work, but never think to pass it on to the guy who serves my daughter her lunch?

Guilt

​that I'd never taken the time to send in a thank you note to this employee and to the others who work silently, unseen, in the shadows?  that I'd never actually asked Kiddo about them?

Remorse

that I'd never again have the chance to say thank you to <Naji>?​  that there are so many others I may have missed along the way?

Anger

that a young man who managed to make my daughter's day ("yeahhhhh, Maman, it's ordering day" is Wednesday's wake-up call) was mowed down thoughtlessly, another casualty to road insanity in the ME?  that I can't do a darned thing other than shake my fist to stop it?

  • To one man, the 'boy' was a hit-and-run casualty.
  • To kiddo, the 'Cafeteria Man' was a weekly source of joy.
  • To his mother, <Naji> was a son ... I imagine he was her life.  
  • To his sisters, <Naji> was a brother ... I imagine he was a hero.  
  • To community - his community, our school community - he was an inspiration, an example.  Of values.  Of promise.  Of hope.

​I do know that when I re-read the e-mail to Smilin' Vic and Kiddo, I cried.  I'm not sure why.  I didn't know <Naji>.  I didn't really have the right to cry for him and his family, did I?  

But I couldn't control the lump that suddenly formed in my chest.  I couldn't contain the tears, and had to stop and take a few breaths between every few words.  But I wanted to get through that message, I wanted Kiddo to hear what an amazing, inspirational, admirable young man <Naji> was.

I really wanted to get to know 'The Cafeteria Man' through the re-reading of that e-mail.  Too late ... I wanted to get to know him.  I wanted to know <Naji>.

I am not alone.  I spoke to other moms.  They were shaken to the core.  It was just so sad.  Some knew 'The Cafeteria Man'.  Others didn't.  Yet we will all miss him.  Somehow, he was a part of our community ... and he drew us closer to one another. That happens a lot here - you realize you are a part of something special at that moment when you lose it.  

He, like so many other expatriate workers, working tirelessly to make a better life for his family back home, was the life breath of this country.  He made a difference.  Here, back home, he made a difference.

He was the Cafeteria Man.  He was <Naji>.  He will be missed ... even by those of us who did not know him.​

Endings ...​

​<Naji's> life ended on April <...>, 2013.  We will miss him.  I have nothing else to say; this post is about him, not me.

The End

The sad fact is, it's not getting any better. &nbsp;There are so many issues to address ... but I guess road safety is a good place to start.​

The sad fact is, it's not getting any better.  There are so many issues to address ... but I guess road safety is a good place to start.​

On Being a Stay-at-home Mom'Me' ...

It's not easy to describe the last week --- this much anticipated transition from executive to stay-at-home mom.​

It's not been particularly interesting ... not much craziness going on in our household right now.

Oh, wait.  There was the unexpected memo from school to parents that led to an intense and panicked research project on lice infestation and delousing.​  

It's not been particularly exciting ... though I did 'high-five' myself when I managed to unclog the kitchen sink on my own.  ​Amazing how much one can get accomplished with a bottle of Drain-O and zero beaurocracy.

Light reading ... ​

Light reading ... ​

It has been relaxing ... I read something cover to cover other than the Daily Mail for the first time in a long time (granted, it was more of a beach read than a literary classic, but still ...).  I've even joined a book club; our first meeting's in May.  Which reminds me, I must go buy Life After Life, by Kate Atkinson.​

IMG_1204 - Version 2.jpg

It's been productive.  IKEA shelves for the laundry room got bought and installed on the very ​same day ... compounds that provide carpenters are a definite reason to consider moving to the ME.  Not a single expletive was uttered during the entire installation process.

It's been different, definitely different.​

For starters, I drop kiddo off at school every morning.  She is at that great age where she is young enough to still want me to walk her to her cubby, but old enough that I really appreciate it.  I love this part of the day.​

Except for last Sunday.​

That was the day I didn't use the crosswalk to get back to my car (parked in the lot across the street).  The cross walk monitor called me out in front of the entire lower elementary.  ALL the first and second graders eyeballed me.​

That sucked.​

Secondly, I come home every morning and do pilates on my living room floor.  

Actually, I come home and watch Karen Karter do pilates on the flat screen; I mostly lie on my yoga mat wondering if it's trick TV.​

Come on.  Surely she jests when she tells me to transition from a lying to a sitting position with ​'abs taught, arms straight out', rolling back down disk by disk, pushing navel to spine?  And breathing all the while.  Yeah, right!  I think there must be an invisible wire tethered to the back of her Lululemon crops.  I reach for another bon bon.

The latest in 'kitty cool'.​

The latest in 'kitty cool'.​

Thirdly, 'helmet head' is my shadow, my new constant companion.  ​Having overcome the initial discomfort and humiliation of her cone, she seems to be embracing her 'Jetsons' style and is back to overturning the potted plants, knocking puzzles to the floor and chasing madly after pencils (???  don't ask - her little pink catnip-scented toy mouse has been virtually relegated to a dark corner ever since she discovered the fun to be had rolling an HB2 Faber Castell around the house).

Through all the excitement, I've tackled spring cleaning with a vengeance; out with the old!  The household purge strategically follows the professional purge.  I am secretly ridding our house of all McDonald's ​Happy Meal toys and Budweiser shorts whilst kiddo and Smilin' Vic are off at school/work.

It feels great, liberating.​

Well, if I'm being completely honest, the cleaning's not going as well as I'd anticipated.  Our maid's annual leave just happened to coincide with my first month off.  

So I've wasted a lot of time this last week scouring the deepest recesses of the laundry room in search of toilet cleaner and reacquainting myself with the mop.  I'm having a hard time with the temperature settings on the washing machine (the Turkish instruction manual doesn't make it any easier).  Smilin Vic's underwear has not been ironed in over a week (I swear, our maid irons EVERYTHING!).  And only today did I learn that plants need watering.  Seriously, moment of silence ... "Sorry about that, little dead plants."

​Last Thursday, people from work threw me a going away party which was really nice.  I got three watches.  Apparently someone thinks I've got time management issues.

Anyone have the time????​

Anyone have the time????​

And I got a LOT of flowers.​

These died too ... :-(​

These died too ... :-(​

Now that that page is completely turned, I'm trying to refocus, make our home the priority, throw my energy into that.

I'm trying to be more creative.  Unfortunately ​the organic blueberry and tuna wraps with pesto sauce did not go over well in kiddo's lunch.  (Just kidding ... there was no pesto sauce!)

I'm trying out new things, like going to the grocery store in the middle of the day.  It wasn't quite a 'shoppers of Walmart' experience, but I was quite amazed at the number of people from work who seem to enjoy the mid-morning shopping experience as well.  Apparently the weekly HR meeting is now taking place at Carrefour.​

I'm trying to be more frugal.  I'm thinking next week I might try a kitty litter facial.  Don't believe me?  Youtube it.  Folks, believe me, there are people out there with time on their hands and ​some weird initiative.

I'm ​trying to socialize more.  This week alone I've gotten to know Abdul Rahman the compound gardener, Abdulrahman the compound garbage collector, Abduraman the compound carpenter, and Abdalrahman the compound plumber.  (I hope I got that right.)

All in all, it's been a fairly smooth, uneventful transition to stay-at-homedness.  And don't let my glib tone fool you into thinking I'm not appreciating every single moment.  I'm a happy camper right now.  Stress-free and loving it.  ​

I think I'll hold on to that feeling for just a little while longer ...​