Thursday, January 3, 2013

You are somone's Sunshine

We ride the Ferris wheel every single day.  It starts in the morning, after that hearty breakfast and the goodbye kiss.

A full day at the office, back home, lunch, dinner, Tv, bed.

Everything is in fast motion, but you are back to where you started.

In most cases, your day resembles all the other days you rode that wheel. Nothing much.

But, sometimes, an idea flashes at the back of your head, asking you to make something different. To make that wheel stop for a moment.

These are the good deeds we sometimes neglect to do. Don't let your life slip without helping others. Those who are less in need.

I'm happy to know that your good well.

They say by the time you realize what is life. Half of your life has already gone.

At the age of 25, I realized what life is all about. I wanted to enjoy it more, I longed for my grandparents to be back to life, to really sit with them and just chat.

Except, you have what you have right now.

I draw my memories from those daily incidents that draws me back to old days, gives me a sweet glimpse of what was it like when I had a bigger family and a smaller soul.

No can understand my addiction to Jasmine tea, but those who knew my granny. That big Jasmine tree hanging outside her door. Every afternoon she turned those pearly white buds into beautiful necklaces and headbands. Telling us the same old story over and over again: "بياحوه" and the girl who literally pooped gold.

If only that wheel stops.

Stop right there, at that moment, let me hug my granny one more time, and let my life be fast forwarded again.

Let's make the most of what is left.


Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Time of Birth

"11:05"  screamed one of the nurses with joy

It was the morning of June 30th 2012. The day we became a family of three.

The diapers, the bottles, the big steriliser machine, the pacifiers, the list goes on.

Baby Mohamed came with a full package of new vocabulary. A lot of things I never thought about.

Let's just day my daily life involves finishing that plate of mashed carrots in front of him, just to lure him to take one bite, and fighting to get that sleeping schedule right every single day. A perfectionist ? I think so.

My bedtime reads switched from Elle magazine to "On becoming a baby whisperer" by Tracy Hogg.

My tears are only shed over the changing table whenever he utters the word "tata". Whatever that means, I like hearing his voice.

Hello Motherhood.