Happy Birthday Jason!!! We love you.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
The Perfect Gadget.
After nearly three months of wonder...I've finally found the perfect use for that bidet thingy next to our toilets. If you are like me, and do not know what a bidet is, it is like a shower head that is next to the toilet to be used for any projects that would need... a little warm water I guess. Since I haven't been trained in their usage, I feel a little akward using anything but Charmin to clean up. Avery likes to use it to play "firehose" and sprays it into the toilet before he flushes, or sometimes in place of a flush. I, on the otherhand, had a *brilliant* idea. And in the process developed a new favorite chore...cleaning the bathroom.
I slapped on my heavy duty gloves, took out the French dish soap that really turned out to be Soft Scrub, and rubbed it top to bottom on all of the porcelins in the bathroom. Then I confidently grabbed the bidet and methodically sprayed. Avery was like, "Can I help you clean the bathroom?" And I was like, "No, I've got this one." Then with a light squeegy down the drain in the middle of the floor, our bathroom has never smelled so good or *sparkled* quite so bright.
I slapped on my heavy duty gloves, took out the French dish soap that really turned out to be Soft Scrub, and rubbed it top to bottom on all of the porcelins in the bathroom. Then I confidently grabbed the bidet and methodically sprayed. Avery was like, "Can I help you clean the bathroom?" And I was like, "No, I've got this one." Then with a light squeegy down the drain in the middle of the floor, our bathroom has never smelled so good or *sparkled* quite so bright.
Camel Crossing
#1 question asked, "Have you seen a camel yet?" Besides the mysterious camel walking on the beach in Ajman we haven't seen any "wild" camels yet. I've seen the camel crossing sign, and plenty of saddled-up ridable ones. We've even seen mechanical camels at the mall. It was like a nativity scene out of moving camels. I thought they were real, but then was told we should go have our picture taken with them because they weren't. So real camels don't smile at gawkers in the mall? Every time I see them at the roadside carnivals I think, "Would I actually ride one of those? I bet they're pretty stinky." I'm actually a little scared of them. I don't know if I should even let Avery ride it. They're much bigger in person than on TV. But then again, my mom let me ride an elephant at the Shrine Circus and I survived. What would you do?
Camel crossing photo borrowed from: members.virtualtourist.com
Sunday, October 19, 2008
The haircut.
Everyday I wait patiently for Avery to get off the bus, we walk up to our apartment building, and I glance over to this cute salon across the street past our back alley. I think, "Man, I really really need a haircut." I've met the stylist in the single-operator salon, she seemed nice enough. And everyday, I walk back up to my apartment and forget about myself and carry on with the evening. That is until the day Avery talked me into an ice cream run after school.
This time we had to walk directly past the salon to the corner grocery, which is really like a convenience store, minus the gas. Avery's equipped with his Neopolitan Ice Cream bar, I with my Cadburry Caramel sticks, and Ethan with his binky. Three big smiles. We start to push the stroller home, when I have a *brilliant* idea. "We're all fed, happy, and somewhat clean. Why don't I see if she has time to cut my hair now? Afterall, its right here. What's the worse that could happen."
Rule #1: Talking to yourself nearly always leads to trouble.
So we enter the salon and I ask how much it is for a haircut and an eyebrow wax. She says 60 dirhams which is the equivalent of $18. As I scan the small salon, I conclude that she has effectively passed my three criteria...the salon was cute, clean, and cheap.
Everything is going good, Avery is content with his ice cream watching Dora the Explorer in Arabic and Ethan is watching Avery, making munching motions with his mouth dreaming about the ice cream.
She says, "like this" tilts my head back, and pulls a long string out her ball of thread and starts rolling it all over my face as my facial hair is magically whipped away. I didn't know if I should panic or laugh. It didn't really hurt, just kind of tickled really, but it took me off guard as I was expecting a "wax".
Halfway through the threading, Avery, covered in ice cream, becomes discontent with Dora and says, "Excuse me, this is in Arabic" and the lady said "I will find English." She hands Avery a Kleenex and takes about 6-7 minutes channel surfing looking for something in English for Avery to watch. It was obvious that she had not worked with children before as I was thinking their patience would soon run thin. So after the run through the satellite, she comes to the conclusion that there is no English, and she finds the next best thing. A racy Indian Soap Opera. So sticky and bored, Avery does his best to be patient on the couch.
It is hard for me to tell just what is left of my eybrows because the lighting was so dim but I trusted that she had done this many times before. She kept saying, "You love this. This perfect for you" so I just kept smiling.
It's time for the haircut. She divided my hair into four parts. She says, "Same thing" and I say "No, I just want a little off."
Three squirts of water and "crunch." I hear her dull scissors cut through 1/4 of my hair and I see it curl up to the bottom of my ears. Immediately my "Warning" sensors go off, and I could tell it was going to be a rough road out of there. I feel my hair and say that it was "too short" and I signal to make the sides get longer, trying to salvage the cut." She says, "No worry, I make you nice haircut." So, thinking there's nowhere to go now that its half cut, I let her finish.
Rule #2: Don't get your haircut with two small children.
The sweater unravels...
Meanwhile, the sugar kicks in. Avery asks for some paper to draw on and finds a notebook. She says, "That notebook not for you, sit down." So, bored out of his mind, Avery is hanging in Ethans face, and Ethan starts screaming. Then Avery tries to comfort Ethan with kisses. It doesn't work. Ethan screams louder. Then she says "Your baby wants eat. You feed him, no problem." Feeling a little frazzled with half a haircut, I try to feed him. She keeps cutting. Ethan's still crying, so she takes off my cape thinking it was bugging him and keeps cutting. My entire front, back, and baby was filled with hair. He could not be comforted, so I asked if we could take a break to comfort him, and she says "two more minutes" and yells "You sit down and be good boy" at Avery...twice.
Not knowing what else to do, I set down Ethan and let him cry so we could get out of there as fast as we could.
Rule #3: If it feels like its going to get worse, get out while you still can.
Someone else enters, and asks how much a haircut is, and tries to barter the price. She keeps cutting.
She says, "bangs here?" (Eye length) I say, "No here. (Chin length) She says, "No, not nice." And cuts them to my cheeks. Just as I was getting used to the length in the sides she cuts them shorter so they actually go up a bit from the back like a horseshoe. I said "Why did you cut the sides? That is the way I wanted it." She kept saying "I make you nice haircut".
Finally, I just had to go. The boys were both going crazy, and I could tell that no matter how many times she tried to fix the crooked sides, eventually, she would run out of hair to cut. I politely declined the blow dry she was pushing. She looked at me and said, "You like?" and I said, "It is too short." and she said, "Oh, I guess I no understand."
And that's that. I left with floating Betty Boop eyebrows and a bob/shag that will take a year to fix.
I got home and was overwhelmed by the whole experience. I broke down and cried.
Avery says, "Mom, Why are you crying?" I say, "Because I look hideous."
Avery, wise beyond his years says, "Being ugly isn't a good reason to cry."
Does this qualify as a bad haircut?
This time we had to walk directly past the salon to the corner grocery, which is really like a convenience store, minus the gas. Avery's equipped with his Neopolitan Ice Cream bar, I with my Cadburry Caramel sticks, and Ethan with his binky. Three big smiles. We start to push the stroller home, when I have a *brilliant* idea. "We're all fed, happy, and somewhat clean. Why don't I see if she has time to cut my hair now? Afterall, its right here. What's the worse that could happen."
Rule #1: Talking to yourself nearly always leads to trouble.
So we enter the salon and I ask how much it is for a haircut and an eyebrow wax. She says 60 dirhams which is the equivalent of $18. As I scan the small salon, I conclude that she has effectively passed my three criteria...the salon was cute, clean, and cheap.
Everything is going good, Avery is content with his ice cream watching Dora the Explorer in Arabic and Ethan is watching Avery, making munching motions with his mouth dreaming about the ice cream.
She says, "like this" tilts my head back, and pulls a long string out her ball of thread and starts rolling it all over my face as my facial hair is magically whipped away. I didn't know if I should panic or laugh. It didn't really hurt, just kind of tickled really, but it took me off guard as I was expecting a "wax".
Halfway through the threading, Avery, covered in ice cream, becomes discontent with Dora and says, "Excuse me, this is in Arabic" and the lady said "I will find English." She hands Avery a Kleenex and takes about 6-7 minutes channel surfing looking for something in English for Avery to watch. It was obvious that she had not worked with children before as I was thinking their patience would soon run thin. So after the run through the satellite, she comes to the conclusion that there is no English, and she finds the next best thing. A racy Indian Soap Opera. So sticky and bored, Avery does his best to be patient on the couch.
It is hard for me to tell just what is left of my eybrows because the lighting was so dim but I trusted that she had done this many times before. She kept saying, "You love this. This perfect for you" so I just kept smiling.
It's time for the haircut. She divided my hair into four parts. She says, "Same thing" and I say "No, I just want a little off."
Three squirts of water and "crunch." I hear her dull scissors cut through 1/4 of my hair and I see it curl up to the bottom of my ears. Immediately my "Warning" sensors go off, and I could tell it was going to be a rough road out of there. I feel my hair and say that it was "too short" and I signal to make the sides get longer, trying to salvage the cut." She says, "No worry, I make you nice haircut." So, thinking there's nowhere to go now that its half cut, I let her finish.
Rule #2: Don't get your haircut with two small children.
The sweater unravels...
Meanwhile, the sugar kicks in. Avery asks for some paper to draw on and finds a notebook. She says, "That notebook not for you, sit down." So, bored out of his mind, Avery is hanging in Ethans face, and Ethan starts screaming. Then Avery tries to comfort Ethan with kisses. It doesn't work. Ethan screams louder. Then she says "Your baby wants eat. You feed him, no problem." Feeling a little frazzled with half a haircut, I try to feed him. She keeps cutting. Ethan's still crying, so she takes off my cape thinking it was bugging him and keeps cutting. My entire front, back, and baby was filled with hair. He could not be comforted, so I asked if we could take a break to comfort him, and she says "two more minutes" and yells "You sit down and be good boy" at Avery...twice.
Not knowing what else to do, I set down Ethan and let him cry so we could get out of there as fast as we could.
Rule #3: If it feels like its going to get worse, get out while you still can.
Someone else enters, and asks how much a haircut is, and tries to barter the price. She keeps cutting.
She says, "bangs here?" (Eye length) I say, "No here. (Chin length) She says, "No, not nice." And cuts them to my cheeks. Just as I was getting used to the length in the sides she cuts them shorter so they actually go up a bit from the back like a horseshoe. I said "Why did you cut the sides? That is the way I wanted it." She kept saying "I make you nice haircut".
Finally, I just had to go. The boys were both going crazy, and I could tell that no matter how many times she tried to fix the crooked sides, eventually, she would run out of hair to cut. I politely declined the blow dry she was pushing. She looked at me and said, "You like?" and I said, "It is too short." and she said, "Oh, I guess I no understand."
And that's that. I left with floating Betty Boop eyebrows and a bob/shag that will take a year to fix.
I got home and was overwhelmed by the whole experience. I broke down and cried.
Avery says, "Mom, Why are you crying?" I say, "Because I look hideous."
Avery, wise beyond his years says, "Being ugly isn't a good reason to cry."
Does this qualify as a bad haircut?
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