Donut Peaches

When we lived in Canada, we were not able to afford the flashy and pricey 'donut peaches' which would appear seasonally in Safeway. Imagine my surprise when I discovered "Angeer Peaches" aka "Donut Peaches" aka "Saturn Peaches" being sold at my local Lulu Express for 6.95aed/kg (when the regular peaches were 10.95aed/kg. I picked handfuls of these peaches, popped them in my bag, and took them home where little A and I (and much later P) enjoy them by the mouthful. Now, I have noticed the prices have increased to 8.95aed/kg, but, nonetheless, for the amount of enjoyment we all experience when we eat them, the extra 2 dirham is worthwhile.

Just coming off day 4 of a miserable cold (the second since my return from England). Possibly the fresh British air has compromised my system, which at this point is only used to breathing in air conditioning. Whatever it is, I'm happy to have an appointment with (what seems on paper to be) a competent obgyn in Dubai on the 17th. I'm very excited to have a look at my baby, and make sure that everything is healthy.

P has been glasses free for a week now. Last Thursday he had the lasik procedure performed. Little A and I shopped (and got some great deals I might add) at the Next store, and then stopped in at the Rotana Hotel for some lunch, while P had the work done. Then we drove him home, and the stress began. It seems he had been prescribed three different kinds of eyedrops, and the pharmacy in the main floor of the building where the operation was carried out, was closed (Abu Dhabi split shift...very common). We stopped in at the New Al Noor Hospital pharmacy (trip 1), who carried two out of three of his prescriptions. Unfortunately, they had never heard of and did not carry the third (and all important) antibiotic eyedrop. Three pharmacies and two hours later, I learned that the ONLY pharmacy in Abu Dhabi carrying the eyedrop P required, was the one in the main floor of the building where the surgery happened. Since this would have been a 45 minute drive (each way...traffic), the pharmacist offered me the approved alternative (which, later on we found to be a much better antibiotic than the prescribed one).

So, P was in recovery and out of commission on Friday and Saturday. On Friday, I was awoken from my nap to learn that Malou was experiencing extreme stomache cramps and would need to be taken to the hospital. Thankfully, my friend Louise was spending the night, and she helped get Malou into the car (where fortunately, she did NOT throw up) and accompanied me to the new Al Noor Hospital (trip 2), where Malou was determined to have food poisoning, as was put on an iv drip for glucose and pain killers. Though she claims she did not eat anything out, it was odd that none of the rest of us in the house got sick (as we've all been eating the same home-cooking all week--no kidding--I 'meal-planned'!!!). So, I left her there to get her drip (not wise for a pregnant lady to sit around in the E/R), and picked her up (trip 3) two hours later, all better, with three different prescriptions.

On Sunday, Little A had her doctor's appointment (trip 4 NANH), and we learned that she is a healthy and intelligent two year-old. She is small (5th percentile) but proportionately so, and the doctor felt this was of no concern. He feels that if P's genes kick in, she will be 5'4" (an average height) at best. At worst, she'll be as tall as me. But everything went well. He recommended that we get her Hep A shots (trip 5 NANH)and a chickenpox booster, as apparently those are the two most serious illnesses in this region. We got her the Hep A shot on Tuesday (after I conferred with my medical professionals back home) and will hold off on the chicken pox booster until I am no longer pregnant (probably get her and her sibling done together).

She didn't even cry when she got her needle!! She's so brave!! I told her it would be a pinch (and then gave her a little soft pinch) and she was just a doll!!

Personal goal for next week: do not go to the New Al Noor Hospital (not even once)

My Summer Vacation

So, we spent a month (or just a little under) in the United Kingdom: Loch Lomond, Edinburgh, Surrey, Farnham, Brighton and Central London. Though at times, travelling with a picky eating toddler was tough, we really enjoyed ourselves. The scenery of Scotland, particularly Loch Lomond, was amazing, and reminded me of our very own mountain range, the Rockys. We spent our days making short little trips out from our cottage, and little A was introduced to a new variety of cow: the highland cow. She also enjoyed seeing sheep, regular cows, swans and ducks, on a daily basis.

My little girl's language really took off on this trip. Starting with 'this one' before we left, she expanded her sentences all the way to include: "no papa, move feet, dirty" giving her daddy's feet a shove off of my lap, and making us both burst into laughter. She also regularly used 'I sigh' to alert me when she felt uncomfortable around strangers, and more endearingly "I sigh papa" when she didn't want to go to her dad. Despite her previously sleeping issues, and all the sleeping she had to do in different locations, she did a fabulous job sleeping on this holiday (especially in Scotland, which I attribute to all the fresh air and the time she spent in it).

There were some big things that happened while we were on vacation. Before I went to bed one night, P informed me that Farah Fawcett had passed away. When I woke up in the morning, he told me that Michael Jackson had also died. The second passing far eclipsed the first in my mind. Oddly enough, we had been discussing the set of concerts he had scheduled the day before, with P expressing interest in going. I shrugged off the question of whether I wanted to go or not, and said (in a pre-cognitive kind of way) that I didn't think Michael would go through with the concerts; I had already read he was extremely stressed about the prospects of performing so many in such a short period of time (I believe it was 50). I told P that it was likely they would be called off due to 'exhaustion' or some other reason. However, the death of the artist was not one of the reasons I considered.

Like most, I found myself deeply saddened by the passing. I have always felt that Michael Jackson was the only wealthy person that I could feel sorry for. He had lived this amazing life, created some of the best music in the history of the world, and done a lot of positive things for mankind, and yet, he was doomed to live an unhappy life. He could never really enjoy any of it, as all of the sacrifices he made to get where he was, extracted a great toll on him. We spent some time watching the memorial in Brighton, while little A slept, and I found myself deeply moved by the sentiments expressed by some (Brooke Shields, Smoky Robinson and finally at the end, Marlon Jackson). Obviously, I feel sadness and fear for the 'Jackson 3' that Michael has left behind...as messed up as they would've likely been being raised by MJ...I think the prospects of being raised by Grandma, without the anonymity they used to have, is far more frightening. I guess only time will tell...perhaps she will have learned something from the past, and will do right by these children.

Where ever Michael Jackson may be now, I wish him the peace that eluded him so much in this life.

There are so many more things to share about our holiday...but I am feeling a little tired myself now, and since Little A has finally gone to sleep (at least I hope that's what the 30 minutes of quiet is indicating), I think I might go and join her. Although there is so much I want to do in this 'me' time (while little A sleeps) I feel the best thing I can do is rest, for the little one that is growing and relying on my body to fulfill its needs.

long time no blog...

So...here are the few thoughts floating around in my mind that (if I had some extra energy) I might really sit down and ponder:

1. My mom's brother passed away. She is obviously devastated. It made me think about when her other brother passed away (also very unexpectedly). I had just gotten married and was coming 'home' to take Oliver for a walk (something I think I did every day until my parents moved to Red Deer and I took Oliver full-time). She was still very upset at me b/c of my marriage, and usually was very non-chalant whenever I came home. This time, she just kept following me around and staying close to me...and I could feel that something was wrong. Though she probably didn't even greet me when I arrived, I could tell that something 'heavy' was coming, and she just burst out with the story of her brother's death. I'm sure I was the last person she wanted to get support from at that time...unfortunately, b/c my dad was working in Forestburg, and my brother was in Calgary, I was all she had. So, I did the best I could. I am sad to not be able to offer her more this time.

2. My friend Drica's baby Benjamin. Drica is the epitome of the relaxed Brazillian. She had an scheduled c-section and this morning at 6:00 a.m. went into the hospital to deliver Benjamin. I was at the hospital having a blood test when something clicked in my brain that today was the 28th...and the date Benjamin was going to be born. So, I popped up to the maternity ward, and there she was: a room full of people, her daughter Luz crying and screaming to fight to retain all that had been exclusively hers, and Drica lying in the bed, in the middle of it all...just relaxed and breast-feeding the new and tiny Benjamin. She had even packed 'gifts' for all of her hospital visitors...man...is THAT what an epidural does??

3. Housemaid woes. My friend Sharon is having them. She had a whopper of a story today that began with a trip to Dubai, and ended with her housemaid getting slapped in the face and thrown out. In the middle, there was a man hiding in her 2 year old daughter's bedroom, and a housemaid who entertained men in her free-time (read into that what you will...we're not exactly sure WHAT was going on...and we're not entirely sure we want to know).

4. Butterflies. Today Malou caught a beautiful black and yellow butterly for A. She put it into her bug-tent to show her. Little A. was delighted, but also scared (which she tells me by tapping her chest and saying 'Mama scared'). Sadly, the butterfly had a damaged wing (BEFORE Malou caught it, not as a result of) and is likely on her last legs. She also looks very pregnant...so, before we went to bed, we took her out of the bug tent and let her rest in the flowers...

5. The end of nursing. It's very hard to listen to your child screaming for her 'mama'...and begging for 'mewk'...and wanting to give it to her, but knowing the time has come for your wee one to start sleeping through the night. Everyone says I would just KNOW when the time was right...and I feel like it is...but the wailing and the cries...it's heartbreaking.

6. Summer holiday plans. It's too damn hot. We are looking forward to our trip to the UK in June. We've got house-sitting (and house-maid sitting) worked out, and now it's time to just tick off the days on the calender. We're heading to Scotland first (Loch Lomond) and then to England (where we will visit with my family and tour around the countryside).

And I think that's all I can think about thinking about right now. Still not really feeling 'settled' into this life. The heat makes me feel like a prisoner of the villa...but, I'm reserving judgement for a year (although P would tell you I have pronounced many judgements already).

Not sure if anyone is even following my blog anymore...it's been so long since I've updated it...I can see how even my '1 follower' (thank-you Cindy) may have fallen off to the wayside. But, as you can see...I'm still here.

Easter in AD

Yesterday we attended an Easter party in Shahama. My friend Drica, is a very pregnant Brazillian estate agent. I can't believe how she was hustling around in the heat (I believe 38 degrees yesterday around 3:30 in the afternoon). She also purchased two baby bunnies just for the occasion. Little A was thrilled and spent some QT with the little bunnies. Just before we left for home, Drica had arranged an easter-egg hunt. Litle A caught on quickly and enjoyed finding three colourfully foiled chocolate "andahs" (punjabi for 'eggs'). Fortunately, she doesn't know that the foil wrapper comes off...yet.

Today we co-hosted the playgroup at our house. Little A had a fever throughout the night, and we were up getting Tylenol, and taking temperatures. This morning we were both a little exhausted and out of sorts. However, with the help of Malou and all the mums who brought their inflatable pools, I think we celebrated a very happy Easter Sunday with friends. Little A flatly refused to enter into any of the pools (though, as we type she is happily taking an indoor dip in her round, red tub...used as an 'indoor pool'). I think that she gets a little uncomfortable when there are a lot of other children around (an ideal group size for her is probably 3 or 4).

New word of the week is 'num'-often accompanied by a hand gesture, 'num' is how she asks us to 'come' with her to do things

She was also pleased as punch last week, when she called Phinny to 'num' by bending down, slapping her knee, and beckoning him with her hand. To his credit, Phinn DID come (what a good boy!!).

We attended another birthday party, this time for our neighbour Grace. I had the opportunity to get to know Sharon (New Zealand), Erica (S. Africa), Ursula (Germany), Jeane (UK) and Maiko (Japan) a little bit better. It was nice to have some ladies to talk to about Abu Dhabi life a little bit more. Though we've all come from different places, it was nice to spend an afternoon having 'girl-talk' (even though there were also toddlers and children to be tended to).

Looks like another sandstorm is brewing. While little A was playing in her red tub, I noticed the window in front of her darken. In the seconds it took for me to get up and ask Malou to take down the umbrella...BAM! the wind and sand are going crazy.

Time to go now...Little A is 'all done'!

My favourite sari...

Is it possible to have a favourite fabric?

Ever since I was little, my mom has had this sari...it's fire-red, with yellow paisley amoeba dancing around. I have no memory of her ever wearing the sari (it was the 1970's, in Grande Prairie...I think by being brown in Alberta, we were already standing out enough), but remember seeing little flashes of it here and there over the years, whenever she opened up 'the suitcase' (filled with all her Indian treasures: saris, bangles, suits). I believe there might be a picture of her wearing it somewhere in our old albums...but I can't be sure.

Over the years, the contents of 'the suitcase' have dwindled. Suits have been given away, and the treasures have mysteriously been disappearing. Fortunately, at some point in time, I managed to hide away the sari (and its matching blouse...which was always very elusive). My mom never could understand why I wanted to have it...and I'm not really sure why it was so important to me either. I think someday, I hoped to wear them both...and feel what my mom must have been like when she was young, before the years and time changed her. Surely, the person who wore THIS sari must've have been vibrant, and alive. A liver of life. Someone who laughed, danced, and thought that life was fun.

However, I have never tried to fit into the blouse of this sari...possibly because I don't want to know that it doesn't fit.

Instead, today, with the help of Malou, the sari now has a prominent place in my villa here. Just seeing it makes me happy ('happy' is also one of little A's new words...'lu-lu' is always very 'happy'). It is helping to fill my room with a warm light. The sari makes me remember only good things about my mom: her adventurous nature, wanting to move her family to a foreign land, making our family the most important family in her life; her courage, travelling with a 6 year-old, his bike, and me, then just a little over a year, on her own, with limited understanding of English; her love and commitment to my brother and I as we were growing up, always putting our needs ahead of her own.

The sari makes me think of my mom, smile, and feel all the love the I grew up with.

The Mitt Guy...

I was reminded of my friend June, and her son Ronin the other day. I met them in a 'new mum's group', and June introduced her baby as 'the mitt guy'. Poor little baby had a severe case of eczema, and they had to keep his hands covered (maybe too much scratching?). Fortunately, they got control of the situation, and I believe his skin has cleared up (though, living in Abu Dhabi, I haven't seen them recently...but he was looking pretty clear before we left).

I decided on Saturday, that it was 'time' to finally bequeath all of my childhood toys to little A. Some of these toys I have had as long as I can remember (so, probably they've been around since 1977). I must admit it was quite a trip down memory lane, seeing ALL of my old 'friends' again. Little A's favourite (so far) has been a little baby toy who I had named 'Lou Guy' (prounounced: Lou-ghee). I have no idea where this name came from, but thanks to my sharp little baby teeth, Lou Guy is now missing most of his fingers and toes. Fortunately, at some point, my Aunty Baksh ('aunty' in the most Indian sense) decided to cover up his disfigurement, by knitting him a snow-suit, complete with mitts. Thus, he is my (now little A's) very own 'mitt guy'. He also, at one point, had a toque (which has gotten lost, I'm sad to admit). So far, Lou Guy has been showering with us, and made a trip out to Kindermusik too. Obviously, we're going to have to do something about the snow-suit...it's a little hot here for that.

On Sunday, I hosted the Al Raha playgroup over here. Hosting is so much more enjoyable when someone else (Malou) is helping with set-up, food prep, supervision (other people's children...not mine) and CLEAN-UP!! I must say, she is a wonderful helper! So hard-working, and never seems to tire-out.

Speaking of 'old friends', I am also thrilled to be back in touch (after a 15 year hiatus) with my childhood best-friend. Why the 'time-off'? Seems that back in our first year of University, there was a major misunderstanding, and since both of us were hurt by it, neither of us took the time to really look into it. I can honestly say I have been missing her friendship for a long time. I managed to get the courage to ask for some contact information (delivered by a dear friend), and then somehow found it in me to send out the first e-mail. I guess I figured I didn't have much to lose, being in AD and all. Even if I received no response...how would things really be any different? I was overjoyed (and deeply pained) when I got the first e-mail back. Where the happiness came from should be obvious. The pain however came from realizing how many years had been wasted...b/c it seems that the friend I had been missing, had been missing me too. So, after beating myself up emotionally for a few days, I decided to just get on with things, and be grateful that it didn't take 30 years (I've still got a few good years in me yet, I figure).

Little A continues to amaze us. Before P left for his business trip to the U.S. of A., she did her first independent jump (which of course P commanded her to do in the middle of the cobblestone road, so no big surprise when she landed on her butt...but she was okay). That same night she had her first 'skinned knees' (*no flesh was actually 'skinned' but little A cried, and there was a little bit of bruising the following day). She now has 8 teeth (and more coming), says the word 'yellow', can identify the colours: blue, yellow and purple and within the last week has become a bit of a biter (thankfully...she seems to be drawn to biting Malou the most...guess it's because P isn't home??). She also LOVES bugs and birds (which seem to be plentiful around here) and many a meal is interrupted by the screaming of 'buuhhhhhh' or 'biiiirrrhhhhh' (many times, not necessarily in that order), and has her very own 'cozy convertible' (ahhh...the ex-pat baby lifestyle).

Today, we joined Kindermusik. It's a 20 minute drive into the city...but seems like it will be a good thing to do once the weather gets unbearable. Everyone here is starting to talk about 'preparing' for the hot weather by finding 'indoor' activities to get involved in. Little A also seems to be a big fan of singing (among the songs she sings, we can easily pick out: pit-pat, what kind of day is it?, twinkle, twinkle, the alphabet song, and the 'hello' song from music with mummy...impressive...I know), so I'm happy to give her an outlet.

What else? Hmmm...I met a really nice lady in my complex, Neelofur. We managed to click instantly. We are the same age, and though she has two older children, her 'baby' is one month younger than little A. We've talked about friends, families, growing up, and have enjoyed several cups of tea together. The downside of this friendship is I met her b/c she is moving back to England with her family (and we bought a toddler bed from her). She just came over tonight too (she will be leaving the country tomorrow) and we had another cup of tea, and took some pictures. Sigh! Both of us keep saying 'if only....' But I wish her well back in her new 'old' life. Plus, I've got her contact information and have told her once she moves BACK to South Africa, we will all be coming to visit.

You can take the teacher out of the classroom...

...but no matter where I go...the 'teaching' instinct continues to thrive within me. I'm also so pleased to report that I've been having some success here with my newest students (yes ladies and gents...the lightbulbs are going off).

When we first got to our complex, I was a little put-off by the number of male Indian workers...they are everywhere, doing all of the menial tasks that must be done. Like all Indian men who have been raised in the motherland, they have the inherent 'staring problem' (which really must be forgiven...as I believe that it's a dominant gene on the Y chromosome). They aren't staring because I'm 'hot', or because I'm not...it's just part of their nature to stare.

So, I have taken it upon myself to help teach these men, my 'homeboys' (seriously...if my parents hadn't relocated us to Canada at such a young age, my brother might be one of these guys working hard for the money to send home...and staring) if you like, to turn their socially inappropriate staring, into something socially acceptable. The last few days, I've started harvesting the fruits of my labours.

It all started with a wave. I would walk in the mornings, little A and Phinn in tow, and as soon as one of the workers would stare our way, I would just smile and wave. I repeated this smile and wave for every worker, every time we went out. Even if we were driving...just a smile and a wave.

A few days ago, I was so proud, when one of these same men saw us coming, and actually waved to us FIRST!! Then, the other day, another one of my 'students' actually called out 'Goodmorning madam' and waved, before we even had a chance to see him there (he was down in a hole...turning off the fountain so that it could be cleaned).

Progress...it's a beautiful thing!

I've just come back from a Khalifa Ladies coffee morning at the Abu Dhabi Golf Club. It is so close to home, and I had the opportunity to meet several new ladies that live near by. The weather is 'hot' (little A's word), but there's a great breeze in the shade. Time to get some lunch and relax while my little one naps.

Malou (the housekeeper-formally-known-as-Rosemarie) is continuing to be hard-working and is fitting in well with our family. I'm starting to feel like this villa might be TOO SMALL for all of us...but I know in time, like many others over here...I will adjust. The pro's of having her here so outweigh the con's...I will just 'suck it up' (like I'm sure my friend Marci would suggest...though I know she would add a 'princess' to the end of it).