Why My Life is soooooo Expensive....THIS Week

There is a direct correlation between my husband's business trips out
of the country and the general maintenance and upkeep of our flat! What
I mean to say is, THERE IS A FRIGGIN' CONSPIRACY GOING ON HERE!
No, really. I mean it. He left for Greece 10 days ago and 9 days ago, Randa
pulled the slide bolt lock off the front door...which I still haven't put back on.
I have to unscrew the entire mount off the door in order to get the slide bolt
back on it. So, of course, I've procrastinated.

The week before he left, I pointed out to Mohamed that the kitchen sink was
draining a little bit slowly. He told me to just run some hot water down the
drain and whatever was stuck would free itself up. So, I went ahead with my
life as usual and figured it'll just be a little slow, no big deal. Then Samiya and
Aiman got this bright idea to help me. They figured that something was stuck
in the drain and took one of the 20-inch skewers from my grill and jammed
it into the drain of the sink, attempting to knock whatever food particle down
and saving the plumbing day! Well, they were not aware that we removed the
metal pipes that we'd originally installed and replaced them with these little
plastic accordion type pipes. So when they jammed the skewer down, they
punctured 4 or 5 holes into it which did fix the water clogged in the sink....but
it all came out onto the kitchen floor. *sigh* I eventually had to get a plumber
to come and snake out the pipes in the wall (yay...it's fixed) and it cost me 10
pounds.

Today I tried to take a shower to wake myself up and discovered that while
there IS hot water in the hot water heater, it comes out in a trickle. So because
I was really funky and sweaty, I had to take the world's fastest freezing cold
shower. I couldn't even wash my hair because I couldn't stand how cold it was.
I don't even know how to go about fixing this.

Ismail broke his glasses fighting with Hamo and I put them on top of the fridge
to fix them later. I cannot find them anywhere. I am afraid Randa found them
and threw them in the trash. That's all we can figure...they still haven't turned
up. That's gonna cost me another 250 pounds.

Now before all of this damage (except the slide bolt lock) I went shopping for
underwear because all of us needed them. I only buy cotton underwear. It's
healthy and it breathes and it lasts. I spent 172 pounds on underwear for all
5 kids, me, three undershirts, and one bra! Just one pair of underwear for me
was 17 pounds! Can you imagine???? Would you spend 17 dollars on one pair
of cotton panties for yourself? Outrageous.

Also, some idiot in the Egyptian government has decided to pad his bank
account or that of his relatives by killing off all the chickens in the country.
I'm 100% convinced that someone in the govt has some sort of investment
in the frozen poultry business. Since no one ever buys frozen chicken because
the fresh is cheaper, they're slaughtering all the chickens to force us to buy frozen.
Ordinarily, I wouldn't care. However, Randa has quit eating anything in the
protein dept except for chicken. So I'm forced to spend 12 pounds for a chick-sized
chicken that wouldn't feed one of us, let alone all of us. I hate corruption.

Oh, and one last thing.....I have FUSCIA hair. I know this has nothing to do with
my expensive high-maintenance home or my kids or my husband working abroad.
But I have FUSCIA hair. I'm 40 yrs old and I dyed my hair FUSCIA....What the hell
is wrong with me? I'm an American with 5 kids (one of which is autistic and shouts
a lot to herself in public) living in Egypt...THE LAST THING I NEED IS TO
DRAW MORE ATTENTION TO MYSELF!

I wonder if I can afford a week inpatient at the local mental institution.

5 Reasons for Hearing Loss (May 2007)

In the beginning my children were quiet and relatively well-behaved. Yes, all five of them were relatively QUIET. Since two of them have arrived at the "tweens" stage with a third one close on their heels, the noise level in my life has increased by at least 40 decibels. If it isn't the 12-yr old boy erupting into an explosive temper tantrum after being told NO to computer priveleges until all homework and studies are complete, then it's the 11-yr old having an autistic meltdown because the 9-yr old is hell-bent on bullying her into handing over the remote control. The "DestructoTwins," ages 8 and nearly 7, have only two volumes ever: LOUD and LOUDER. (Well, three if you count ASLEEP.)
When I was still working outside the home, in an environment prone to loud noise, I was required to take a hearing test by my employer every few years. Certainly, it was only to document my hearing loss in case I ever got litigious. The nurse who administered the test noted that while my noise levels at work had gotten lower since I'd changed offices, my hearing loss had increased. When I explained that my hearing loss was probably due to the 5 screaming kids at home, ages 1-6 at the time, she laughed.
I find very little funny about a little boy who answers the phone with a lion's roar instead of hello like a normal person. Parents of autistic children can attest to "loud" being a part of the child's daily routine. While our daughter tends to have her "freak out shriek fest" when she is really tired or upset, her high-pitched screams are actually more welcome than Ismail's rhythm-less attempts at non-rhyming gangster rap at the top of his lungs. This is a relatively new stage for him. It follows his last stage of LOUD closely, when he taught himself to whistle with two fingers jammed into his mouth. His practice sessions usually coincided with my franctic attempts to get dinner ready by sunset during Ramadan. ((Ramadan is the month of fasting for muslims, where we do not eat, drink, smoke or have sexual relations from just before sunrise until sunset.)) Now when someone who normally totes a coffee in each hand for several hours a day suddenly gives up caffeine cold turkey for a 14 hour fast daily for 30 days, headaches can be pretty wicked. Throw a wolf-whistling, gangsta-rap wannabe with NO rhythm into the mix and you are talking HATEFUL pain. I have been known to break my fasts by chewing through the childproof cap on the extra-strength tylenol bottle.
I don't know that they'll ever learn the meaning of the "inside voice" but I'm sure that by the time they do the damage will have already been done. I'll be the hearing impaired lunatic screaming in the movie theater, "WHY'S HE DOING THAT? WHAT DID SHE SAY TO HIM???" And if I ever go to a quiet restaurant with my husband for a romantic dinner (shu-uh, like THAT will happen in the next 10 years!) they'll be forced to ask me to leave because my shouting, "Huh???? WHAT?? The special is WHAT??" will ruin the mood for everyone else in the restaurant. But who cares, really? They probably won't end up having five really loud children and may still be able to hear when they reach 40!

Sarcasm (orig. published May 2007)

Well, yeah, it's been a while since I've put anything on here. But not from a lack of subject material. I've just been pretty busy helping the kids get ready for their final exams. OMG. It's been unreal. We got back Aiman and Samiya's results-----YAY. Both got perfect scores in Arabic, English, Math and Religious Studies. Ismail finished his exams yesterday, but we won't know his results for another week or so. Mohamed begins his exams tomorrow. I'm beyond worried. He's in 6th grade and how well he does on these exams will determine which middle school he gets into.
Well, Wednesday morning I walked Ismail and his best friend to the school for their exams. I waited for them to go upstairs and then excused myself from the group of worried mothers so that I could beat feet over to the bread ovens and pick up some bread. My mind was still doing the usual balancing act at test time of worrying about whether or not Ismail will remember the ins and outs of long division, could I make it to the ovens before the line was a mile long, and whether or not my nervous energy would turn from the current mild anxiety to a full-blown case of the runs. I guess in all the excitement my brain couldn't handle the usually rote process of putting one foot in front of the other as the next thing I knew, my foot had twisted up underneath me and I was sprawled out face first on the street unable to breathe as I'd managed to knock the wind out of myself when I landed on my big fat honkin' purse. So, I just laid there for about half a minute before deciding to get up. I sat back down on the curb to pick the gravel out of my palms, brush off my dress and catch my breath. A woman across the street saw it happen, and came over to see if I was okay. Also, the waiter at the coffee shop came running over carrying a chair for me to sit on and then ran back inside to get me a glass of water. (This is typical Egyptian courtesy/concern. They are helpful people...almost to a fault.)
I started to laugh when I realized that although a little bit scratched up, I'd really only broken my dignity and that'll mend in no time. The woman looked at me like I was a little crazy. Then she asked me if I fell because I was dizzy or what. So I told her, "Nope. It was my plan. I was a little thirsty so I fell here because I knew the waiter would bring me a glass of water." Then I cracked up laughing at how clever I am. She looked at me then like I was REALLY crazy and walked off in a hurry. What?! No kiss for my skinned knee? Chickenshit.
It's sometimes hard for me living here. The Egyptian people just don't seem to get my sense of humor sometimes. I was once chided by a nurse at the hospital just after Ismail had had his lip and chin stitched up (he'd decided to play Tarzan by swinging on a belt that he'd hooked to the top hinge of his bedroom closet and fell on his face.) I only asked if since this was the 4th time I'd been there for stitches in the last 2 years, would the next round of stitches be "on the house" since we were "frequent flyers," if you will. She turned red in the face and yelled at me about testing fate. My brother-in-law, however, was laughing. He knows my garanimal-kids.
Yesterday I had to take Aiman to the hospital because he couldn't open his left eye for about 14 hours. This is a pretty normal response when one's older sister pokes her finger into one's open eyeball by mistake. It turned out that he had a tiny scratch from her fingernail and the doctor gave him some drops and a really cool white cotton eyepatch. Aiman looked a little worried still and asked me, "So, what's going to happen?" I didn't know the doctor spoke English as well as she does until she laughed out loud when I replied in all seriousness, "Well, we're going to let you keep the eye. It's only a little scratched and not worth trying to find you a new one." He just rolled his good eye and said, "Well, THAT's good news," while Dr. Amina giggled. I guess sarcasm just isn't their thing here.

**This was originally published by me on my old myspace acct last May.**