Apologies! My Kids Were Not Featured on Facebook Today!

My kids did nothing worthy of a Facebook status update today, and I am SO bummed!

I woke them up with the usual, Rise and Shine... Brighter than the sun, and all the nighttime stars, for thou art both brilliance in little bodies. - But, nothing. They groaned, moaned, one promptly fell back asleep, the other flashed a fake smile, grabbed her pillow and made her way to the couch.

After they were dressed and ready to leave, I took pause from my usual yelling at them to hurry the hell up, and  gave them their daily instructions: Read all your lessons well, pay attention to the teacher, make sure your hand goes up first to answer any and all questions, score 100 points for Gryffindor! - The kissed me somewhere around my mid-section and left.

Pick up from school, and I expected them to once again assault me with their brilliance. - One cried, the other dragged his water bottle on the ground, and kept asking me ridiculous questions such as "What's for lunch?"

No homework today, so it's really the teacher's fault, for not assigning them a book report on Of Mice and Men. She cost me a photo opp on Facebook, and will receive a note from me tomorrow.

In the evening, after several attempts by me to make them swallow some non-fiction, adult reading materials whole, they opted for TV instead, and some form of insane running around the house. Read the Dictionary at LEAST!! I yelled. - They ignored me.

Dinner time, and there could have been some much awaited brilliance.... Had I not served french fries with their chops.

By bedtime, my patience had worn thin, and my empty social networking pages screamed for something. Anything!! So, the usual stories were not read, the nightly hugs and kisses dismissed, while we discussed OPK (Other People's Kids). Laptop on... Well, my lap, I read them every single Mommy Brag I could find online, till they cried with shame, and begged for mercy. 

There is no room for average children in this house! I said with finality.

They promised they'd do better tomorrow.... So wait for the update.

Cinderella is a Bitch... Poor Cinders!

So, again... Hyper moms worried about the little phases their kids go through, in the corporate world's attempt to take over our childrens lives, and ruin them completely.

Completely!!

But, it's really our daughters we should worry about, well because you know... Some feminists say so. Beware of the pink, the fluffy, the glitter... The goddamn Disney princesses!! They will eat your daughters, as Peggy Orenstein so dramatically tells us.

Cinderella is a bitch!

Protect your daughters people, because girls need to be protected right? They're weak, easily influenced, not like boys who are tougher and never want to grow up to be princes, or knights in shining armor. Not since that little fucker Lightening McQueen zoomed onto a screen, and forever changed the way little boys view their body parts anyway.

My daughter likes pink, and purple. She also like princess dresses.

And, dirt.

But, according to Peggy, it's only possible for girls to play in dirt wearing princess dresses.  

“Just because little girls wear the tulle does not mean they’ve drunk the Kool-Aid. Plenty of them shoot baskets in ball gowns or cast themselves as the powerful evil stepsister bossing around the sniveling Cinderella.”   

Umm ball gowns? 

This is how she views females?

I have nothing more to say about that, because the purpose of this post was to list the evil commercial world's plot to take over my son's brain, and turn him into a cartoon character. I've witnessed so many phases in my son's life of six years, I'm actually terrified he'll become "confused" when he grows up... Because...

1. Diego Ate my Son
2. Lightening McQueen Ate my Son
3. Spiderman Ate my Son
4. Batman Ate my Son
5. Multiple Personality Disorder, aka Ben10 Ate my Son

Hell, at least my daughter will look pretty in her ball gowns. My son on the other hand, will grow up to look like this if he had his way.

What is the color pink compared to that?

Any feminists care to create a stink about that?

And, can we PLEASE let kids be kids... When they're kids?

Thank you!

Gather Christians!

Do I really want to go down this path?

Oh yes I do!

And, why?

No reason, just sitting here on a Saturday afternoon while my brood, well OK two cannot be a brood, but saying 'my pair' could cause those twisted minds to think I'm referring to my..... feet. So, while my twins (do I hear applause from fellow "blessed because we're special" twin mamas?) are probably enjoying their last afternoon with electricity at their grandma's place. After Phet hits us tonight, we know there won't be power, we know KESC will take it all very personally and probably not restore power for a week, we know Karachi will be flooded beyond belief, and we know the poor and homeless will be dying out there, while we sit and lament about no electricity and internet. Our phones will die and OMG it'll be like experiencing another Facebook ban! How will we survive?

Who cares? This post is about Christianity.

Oh no it isn't.

Oh yes, it bloody well is.

Well, to be fair it's about Catholics in Karachi.

So, if all denominations would like to join in and read, please take your places as if in heaven, and pretend you're the only ones with the True Word. And, Catholics please don't scramble for the front row seats... I know you have the basilica and all that expensive art, but there's no need to be snotty about it.

Are you getting your children ready to receive their First Holy Communion in a few years? Is the question I've been getting asked by a lot of people lately.

No, we're Satan worshipers!

Kidding fundies, please don't burn me at the stake.

Well, I really haven't thought about it. OK I have. Once. I mean which Christian raised (in Karachi) woman in her right mind would not think of her child's FHC? Where shall we have the reception? Will the guest list exceed 500 people? Who will design and make my daughter's first time virginal white dress? Will my family in the U.S/Canada/London/UAE offer to send us the flowers and candles? Must rush off to Khori Garden to check for just the right ceramic figurines for the giveaways. Who's the best cake maker? And speaking of cakes, there simply must be a centerpiece above it waiting to rain down confetti, when the cake is cut and champagne is popped, while drum rolls and cymbal songs crash out of the over sized speakers set up in strategic locations around the Sheraton's Darbar ballroom. Open bar? But, of course! That's a tradition we can never forgo on.... Our grandfathers would haunt us from their graves if we did.

Just in case you're wondering, I really am discussing First Holy Communions in the Catholic community of Karachi, not weddings. Note, I said 'Not weddings."

The season is nearly upon us now as a few hundred parents around Karachi are busy spending all of their summer, preparing for the FHCs in the fall. I've ordered my daughter's dress from ETC Collections, one over zealous mother informed me smugly a couple of weeks ago. The dresses are expensive this year, starting at around Rs. 15,000 and reaching nearly 25,000 or more.

Insert classic jaw-drops-to-the-floor moment, or in my world the typical OMGWTF-is-she-talking-about? moment.

Oh Trevor! (as in the Trevor Castellino, creator, designer, and overall head honcho of ETC Collections). How far you've come!

But, where are we going?

And, when I say 'we', I really mean they (as in them). Because, no way in all the raging fires of Satan's lair would I pay that much for a dress for my daughter's FHC, a time might I add, when she's supposed to be receiving the... ahem body of Christ for the first time.

Ballrooms? Really? To celebrate a spiritual sacrament of the church by a child who barely understands what is going on?

*Roars of disapproval from the front row Catholics.*

Of course they understand!!!!! They're all of nine years old! They understand what it means to accept Christ into their hearts, through a wafer on the tongue. They get it and you're a cynical bitch!

You bet your ass I am.

But, it doesn't take away from the fact that little Melissa has no frickin clue what she's doing. None, nada. Because, what she really cares about (and you Khi Catholics know I'm right) is that she'll be all pretty in gauzy white that day, with a wreath of flowers on her head, and low heeled, white patent leather dancing shoes on her feet. She's also counting the gift money btw, and will inwardly curse at Aunty Josephine and others like her, who gift pretty pink rosaries and prayer books. Although not as much as her mother does about her shocking pink banarasi sari and six inch high golden slippers, for the mass... For the reception it'll be form fitting, red silk, with courtesy plunging neckline and stilettos

Where's daddy?

On the phone with the booze supplier.

Where will daddy be on that day?

Looking uncomfortable in a three piece suit at the church, and sweating profusely. And, later at the reception, simultaneously guarding and guzzling the booze.

Our Father, who art in heaven

What kind of a father have you given me here on earth?

Where was I going with this?

Right! Am I getting my children ready for this? I guess the answer for me at the moment is, a resounding no.

No, I am not getting my kids ready to receive their FHC, no I do not want to join this particular herd of "must have confetti" and "My daughter's dress is more expensive than yours neener neener" bullshit crowd. I'm naturally competitive yes, but never at the expense of my kids.

I still have a few years to decide, and my decision will be based on whether I consider it the right time for my kids spiritually or not. Not silk and fluff.

Break the bullshit tradition... That's what I do.

So Catholics.... Lay off!

Is it Wrong?

That every time my kids talk about stuff they're going to do when they grow up, like get married (their newest favorite thing to talk about) or become three or more of the six hundred things they want to be when they're older, or back talk adults because now they're kids and have to be "prespectful" (respectful) and "all that stuff grown ups think is how kids should be" ***insert gagging noises*** I remind them that it can happen only if they go to college first?

B was talking to the neighbor the other day, and she asked that typical adult to child question. "So what do you want to be when you grow up?" His standard response this month has been "A ROCK STAR." Up till last month, he wanted to be a red sports car, and the month before, a red dragon. This kid is obsessed with the color red, and I swear his TV time is limited. So, she's just about to alter the look of amusement on her face, (what would she have thought, had he told her her wanted to be a computer game and live in a monitor?) when he follows with "But, I have to go to Rock College first." She: Do you mean music school? He: No, Rock College is where rockers go to learn all about becoming Rock Stars.... You can't do anything in life if you don't go to college you know............ My mom says so."

He sounded like a parrot. His eyes took on a glassy look. How often do I say those words to my five year olds? How much am I brainwashing my kids? And, do they know when I say college, I really mean therapy?

Because, that's what J and I are saving for.

The Imaginary Child Prodigy!

A couple of days ago while sorting through some old papers, I came across a few drawings made by my daughter, which really should have been in her box file and not mine. But, when I turned it over I knew why I had kept it. It was the first colored picture she made of the two of us together. In typical four year old style, there were two stick figures (even though I'm no stick), both with flowing long hair, and triangle looking dresses which I know she'll one day argue are "A line and cool." As I stared at the picture, smiling at the butterflies she had drawn in the background, which really resemble ants marching across the page, I noticed she had spent considerable time paying attention to detail. The shoes on both our feet (also looking like ants marching) matched, and they contrasted with our dresses, which also matched each other, while the butterflies matched the color of the dresses and shoes. "She's a regular Picasso" I thought to myself, or rather "Valentino, watch out!"

She happily attended Art Camp last year with her brother, and I ran out of places to display all sorts of strange and wonderful pieces of art they created every.single.day! We smile, we gush, we tell them it looks "FABULOUS" while racking our brains trying to guess what it really is, because they're standing there, looking at us all excited and gleeful. And, if you don't guess correctly, you're screwed!

Children are wonderful creatures.

And, they're not all geniuses!

So, now I'm going to slide into the rant you knew was coming. Mothers who give birth to budding Picassos aka child prodigies. And, I'm not talking about real child prodigies! I'm talking about the imaginary ones, some mothers insist are several cuts above their counterparts. Have you seen an oil painting done by a two year old?

I was gifted one.

It must be so satisfying to dip your child's fingers in oil paint and then forcibly drag it across a canvas, to create a riot of colors designed to look childlike, yet professional.

Who are they kidding? Other moms?

Moms who are almost daily presented with some piece of art, or a pebble dripping ink, or a cupcake with teeth dents in it, and a proud voice saying "Look Mommy, I made train tracks on the muffin!" Are they trying to kid those mothers? Well, we're not being fooled for a second.

Your child is not a genius, and you need to give it a rest. Or rather give little Jane a piece of paper and some crayons and let her draw stick figure pictures of her grandparents. Allow your child to be a child, and get over your stupid desire to raise perfect children, when you yourself are average or below that.

Stop caking their faces with makeup at beauty pageants when they're 4 years old! Or even 10. Forcing them to attend the dance classes they loathe, because you one day dreamed of being a ballerina is ridiculous. And, just because your great-uncle Jim strums a guitar at family get togethers, while singing off key, does not mean musical talent runs in your family. Doing their homework is not cool either.

And, don't even get me started on extremist red-shirting plans, when they should have started Kindergarten two years ago.

Of course people have the right to raise their kids how they want to. But, I wish these mothers would stop for a minute and think of the damage they're doing to their own child. Forget about the rest of us with kids who are just average, and might one day surprise us with some hidden talent. Think of how much your little one thinks they have to live up to? How insecure they must feel, because they know it's really Mommy who drew the picture for the competition she insisted they enter. How do you think she feels not being appreciated for who she is, and what she can do?

You're far from perfect, just like the rest of us.

Don't expect perfection from your kids.

And, then.. They Were Five!

Dear B&H,

I don't think there is a twin parent alive who could properly describe how they felt, when they heard the words "You're having twins" uttered by their doctor, at that first ultra-sound. Eyes, widen, pupils dilate, heart races, while your brain struggles to process the true meaning of those three little words.

It cannot.

And, it doesn't really "get it" till much later.

But, it's something which cannot be described. I could never tell you both what it truly means to have been pregnant with two at the same time, what it felt like when I first saw your scrunched up little red faces, which seemed to say "Hey, we're here, now what?" How awed I was by the tiny sizes of both of you, who each fit from fingertip to just short of an elbow. So small, but so powerful... And, cute.

That's it. You two were cute and powerful. It's like you had superpowers because you were so cute, or so cute because you had superpowers. I could never tell, because it's difficult to figure it out, when you have two babies just lying in their cribs looking all cute and powerful.

How you completely took over our lives, and brought about a world we never dreamed existed, proved you had power. You controlled us with all that cuteness! It was like you both arrived and said "Right then, let's get to it. We're here, we're cute, now we'll sleep, then we'll scream for sustenance, then we'll sleep again, then we'll poop, and then we'll sleep some more. And, you all just enjoy our cuteness while we're at it."

I honestly had always just imagined, changing a baby's diaper was no big deal, till I was swimming in boxes of new diapers, and pails of dirty ones. Thankfully you both always had your poop timings down pat... Always ten minutes from the other, which gave me plenty of time to change you both without too much fussing. Still, I never thought the endless diaper changing cycle would end.

Funny, how I sort of miss that now.

And, just so you know. Moms of twins never sleep during the first year, and you two never.let.me.sleep!

But, I love you!

Now suddenly, you're all grown up, and on days like today, all I seem to be doing is reminiscing. First smiles, first teeth, first steps, first words, first diaper explosion, first arguments, first pee in the potty, first tantrums. We had a lot of firsts with you two, and never much time between the two. And, no I shall never tell who did what first. Those facts will remain hidden from you both for a long, long time. It's in your best interests, and mine. Because, I LIKE having two children not trying to kill each other!

Anyway, we're headed into a new chapter with you, and I can't wait to see what more power you two can wield over us. I'm excited knowing how wonderful it will be for you to be "grown up" and hope you will always inform me of everything you do, like you do now. I know one day you'll have secrets from me, but remember... What mommy doesn't know, mommy always finds out."

For now, I promise to always cherish your beautiful smiles, your giggles, the breathtaking picture you make, when you hold hands and run towards me with huge cheesy grins when I come pick you both up from school. And, how you don't stop talking a mile a minute after you manage to hug whichever part of my body you can reach. I will always cherish the little scraps of paper with "I 'heart' u momy' one or both of you spend hours coloring in my favorite colors, right along with your twin hugs and kisses, our crazy lunch time tales, and requests to be read 'Gordon Takes a Tumble' every night of the week. Always twice.

I will always cherish you both for what you are individually, and together.

Happy 5th Birthday!

Love,
Mommy

Are You the Perfect Parent?

As we approach the fifth birthday of our twins, a big part of me feels the need to pause, and reflect. I know I've certainly come a long way from that person who gave birth to two babies together, and immediately entered a world of chaos, sleepless nights, insecurity, sleepless nights, second-guessing, more sleepless nights, criticism and fear. Did I mention sleepless nights? Parenthood is never fun at the outset, no matter how cute your babies are. It's no wonder the first year is usually referred to as 'The Blur.' It really and truly is, and OMGs I wanted it to end SO bad.

Then it did.

And, now I wish they would take three hour naps, several times a day, like they used to in infancy.

But, my friends with teenage kids say it won't happen for another decade or so.

Crap!

So, anyway... this whole parenting thing, has got me wondering about a current trend I've noticed almost everywhere. I don't know if it's some sort of superiority complex, but WTF is up with all this judgment and criticism we throw at other parents? For the most ridiculous things? Believe it or not, chicken nuggets is a hot topic. It's bad for your kids, so don't feed it to them. Try turnips instead! And, if they don't like turnips, mash them down and shape them like chicken nuggets!

Seriously! People say stuff like that.

And, drinking a glass of wine at playdates is also forbidden in their God given Holy Book of Parenting Skills & How to Perfect Them, so You May Achieve Godlike Status. I actually know someone who got slammed for having a drink at her teenage daughter's party, in her bedroom or something. She was called a bad mother and almost everything else by otherwise perfect parents, who own the book.

We've created so many issues, or rather the sanctimonious, holier than thou bullshit crowd has. Cloth diapers/disposable, IVF/Spontaneous, breast/bottle, working mothers/stay at home mothers, public school/homeschool, pacifiers/no pacifiers, hands on daddy/couldn't be bothered asshat... The list is endless. You so much as bring up a topic, and people instantly jump to their chosen sides, dressed in full body armour, ready to fight to the death. And, it's mostly mothers...

Women, seriously need to either get laid more often, or find a hobby besides motherhood.

I mean it. They can turn into a bunch of vicious vipers if someone innocently says My baby is 2 weeks old... Is Similac formula any good?

WTF?

Mind your own damn business people! It's hard enough being a parent as it is. And, I for one do not like snotty nosed idiots telling me how wrong I am, by talking incessantly about how right they are. I also don't like when they do it to new parents. Give those poor suckers a break ffs... They get NO sleep! And, the husbands have yet to learn, that sex will not be as frequent as it was pre-kids.

You heard me, new daddies!

So, santimonious gits! I don't care if your kids poop gold, because you feed them gold dust (which might be bad for them btw), I don't care if you're the perfect mother with an awesomely clean house, with handstitched curtains at every one of your twenty six windows, I don't care if there are delicious, healthful meals and snacks on your table 24/7, I don't care if you stay home so you can nurture your precious offspring, unlike those horrible working mothers trying to earn a living, and I don't care if your seven children all sucked the life out of your breasts till they were six years old. Just don't tell me how to raise my kids, and we'll be fine.

So much for parents joining together and giving each other support. No, we've decided to turn it into a competition.

Our kids must think we're marvelous examples of human beings.

Ben 10 Alien Swarm - Coming Soon

He didn't win a battle, when it came to getting my permission to watch Ben10 on Cartoon Network (aka Crap Network). He's lucky, because Mama must admit she quite likes little Ben10 herself, and teenage Ben10, and Ben10 Alien Force, just as much as he does. Yes, Mama is a fan of a kids' cartoon show, and may or may not watch it even if the kids aren't home. Admit it, you all watch the Backyardigans, or The Wiggles, and even Dora the Explorer... And, you all find yourself humming their songs while you shower.... Ha!! So, don't judge me!

So, you want to really bond with your almost five year old son? Ben10 will do it for you.

Ben is not as big an obsession as Lightning McQueen. Oh no, no NO... NEVER! Because, Lightning is the coolest, most bestest sports car in the whole universe, and when all little boys grow up, they want to be red racing cars with cocky grins, and '95' tattooed on their abs.

Ka-Chow!

But, back to Ben, the average kid with a powerful watch type device, which turns him into an alien fighting... alien. Ben, also has a cousin Gwen, who has "pink" super powers, so at our house the show is loved by both male and female child alike. And, of course Mommy. So, when that damn Cartoon Network begins advertising the November release of Ben10 Alien SWARM, it's almost as bad as all those suburban moms anxiously awaiting the release of New Moon.... At our house at least.

All, I've been hearing for the last few weeks out of B is "Is it November yet?"

At first I thought the kid was just excited because their birthday is in November, but later I realized Cartoon Network is advertising Ben10 Alien SWARM (not yelling, that's how it's titled on CN) like crazy. And today, they decided to take it one step further, by announcing a contest! How fun is that?

Not fun at ALL! (Now, I'm yelling).

The upcoming contest, requires kids to watch Cartoon Network, from Mon-Fri all through November. If they do, they get details of the contest, and a chance to win fabulous action figures and a Ben10 wrist device. All through November... Every single weekday evening. Schools are being left in the dust, let me tell you. Parents don't stand a chance either. We need to get off our collective "Here's your appreciation certificate" or "Here's a sticker for being good" asses, and stock up on action figures!

Or, we're going to lose.

But, right now, I really don't care. There's less than a week left for October to end, and those action figures look really cool.. So, off my high horse I get, because...

Well, I like action figures too.

***snerk***

Hostile to Halloween? Um.. What?

"Halloween has strong roots in paganism and is closely connected with worship of the Enemy of this world, Satan. It is a holiday that generally glorifies the dark things of this world, rather than the light of Jesus Christ, The Truth."

Well then, how can I read something like that and not respond to it, right?

So, this eeeeevil festival of... Candy? Costumes? Jack-o-Lanterns and fun? Satan worshiping? Really?

Shut up!

Seriously, you nutty, over the top, crazy, religious (Christian) people. Just.shut.up.

I'm not going to get into the history of this festival, and how it originated in pagan times blah blah blah. It's all commercial fun now (at least in America it is), and I don't see why it should be such a big deal to Christians. Oh wait, some of them don't approve of the "pagan traditions" and all that. But, they won't stop participating in all those traditions, and rituals the church adopted from the pagans themselves generations ago, then twisted around and merged into Christianity. Christmas and Easter anyone?

Why do some of these religious types insist on keeping worms up their butts? They really shouldn't. It makes them irritable and mean. And, when that happens, they start attacking all the fun stuff this world has to offer us. They want people to stop dressing their kids up in cute costumes, and going out to get free candy from neighbors, they want to burn Harry Potter books, and put condom manufacturers out of business. It's all very sad. And to think, all they would have to do to stop behaving like freakazoids, is take a dose or two of some deworming med. That's not asking too much of them right?

So, anyway... Halloween. We celebrate it every year! We also celebrate Eid and Diwali and Christmas with Santa Claus. You know that big old imaginary guy in a red suit? And, we all know how red is the devil's color, and that Satan really just stuffs himself with food for months before December, gets really fat, adds some white trim to his clothes, and gives kids tons of toys, which brainwash them and make them hate God.

That's what we do. So, when my son decided he wanted to dress up as Jesus this Halloween, I had to say no. "Can't combine religion with heathen practices", I told him. "What's religion?" he asked. "That's a question only grandma can answer" I replied. "Do you know anything?" he muttered. "Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog..." I chanted on my way out of them room, and followed that with an evil cackle, while he cowered in fear, of the whipping he knew was coming.

Later they both told me they wanted to dress up as Ben 10, and one of the Power Puff girls. B was Ben 10 last year, so when he saw his pictures from 08, he promptly decided he wanted to be Ben 10 Alien SWARM instead of regular old, boring Ben 10. Five minutes later, he wanted to be Lightning McQueen... Um That is SO not happening dude! Try again. H of course kept changing her mind too. But, that's only because they're designed to combine their indecision, and make life even more interesting for me than it usually is.

We have less than a week left... Their costumes, after many, MANY suggestions, arguments, tears, laughter and yelling, are nearly ready. There will be no more better ideas, no more planning. Just lots of scary cookie baking, and decorating.

And... All's quiet on the Christian front too.

They must be busy bottling the Holy Water, to douse us with on the 31st.

She's a Child, NOT a Maid!

Last Saturday, while out on our weekly "family evening" my husband and I took the kids first to the park, and then out to dinner. An hour at the park, and we were exhausted, which is not surprising if you have two four year olds, each insisting on a different activity "Ohhh I want to SWING" or "No, let's go down the giant slide." You're probably wondering how that could cause exhaustion in two adults with two kids? We could easily split up with one kid each and let them do their thing right? Wrong! Our twins may always want to do different stuff, but they also simultaneously want to do what the other is doing. If you split them up, you're going to spend a LOT of time scuttling back and forth, while they yell out to each other in glee. After years of trying to achieve some sort of balance in these situations, we have no choice but to suck it up, and tolerate the arguments of which area of the playground is more fun. It's easier, because your feet get a bit of a rest, and ear plugs are cheap.

So, anyway... At the playground watching my daughter tackling the rope climbing thing, I noticed this cute baby who couldn't have been more than a couple of years old. Clad in a frilly pink dress, socks and shoes, she toddled towards the slide while her mother stood by and watched proudly. Then, she fell... The baby, not the mother. What issued after that sent my blood pressure sky rocketing, and my temper if released would have reached epic proportions.

The "mother" began yelling at a little waif of a girl, no more than seven or eight years old who was about three feet behind the baby. "Pick her up!! Why did you let her fall?" WHACK!! She hit the little girl... Her baby's nanny! Yes, I said nanny... And, I said hit. Welcome to Karachi, where some of the upper class consider it charity, to employ poor little girls (and boys) as full time (see: live in) nannies and maids, for their infants and children. Minimum age requirement for this position? Six, maybe seven.

Now, before you get all upset, and start throwing around words like "child labor" or ***gasp*** "abuse," there's a perfectly good explanation for why some rich people employ these starveling little creatures as "help." They're doing them a favor! Or so they believe. According to them, if they don't employ them, they're practically damning them to a life of severe poverty, and a gloomy future. This way, these poor kids get a roof over their heads, have food and clothing. What more do kids need right?

So what if they have to change a baby's diaper a few years after they've been out of diapers themselves? So, what if they have to feed, bathe, dress kids a year or so younger than they are, every single day? So what if they have to wake up at 5am daily, and get breakfast ready for the family? So what if they have to carry heavy diaper bags, and shopping bags through malls and bazaars while their "Madams" shop till they drop? So what if they get one nugget from the leftover McDonald's Happy Meal, the Madam's kid did not want to finish? So what? At least they're getting something right? They're lucky! Other poor kids don't even know what McDonald's is, leave alone getting the chance to eat one whole (well, partially gnawed at) delicious chicken nugget and a few sips of Coke every week. These poor kids should be grateful!! They're getting to earn their keep in the lap of luxury, and a few slaps across their faces a day for failing to care for an infant properly, is not a big price to pay. When someone gives your family charity, you belong to them, you owe them. With the blood and sweat of your six year old malnourished body... You owe them!

Pathetic? Sad? Twisted?

How about wrong? Can we say how wrong this is? Do we dare?

Well, I dare. It's wrong, it's sick and it's a disgusting display of child abuse, right out in the open, happening right under our noses, while we turn a blind eye to it. Why? Because these women are our friends? Because they belong to an elite, untouchable social circle? So, we pretend we don't see the exploitation of children? Surely, we as a society do not condone this? Shame on us if we do. How many times have we walked by one or more of these "maids" and not really seen them?

Charity, my dear designer bag carrying fellow females, has no strings attached to it. It's something we're supposed to do, out of the goodness of our hearts. Asking for nothing in return. It does not need to be twisted into a convenience because we're too lazy to parent.

I suggest you women keep these little children in your care, educate them, encourage them to lead productive lives, and make sure they do. You can certainly afford it. And, you can certainly afford to hire professional help for your children. And, an adult to do your dishes. You do not need to exploit poor, weak and innocent children. It does not make you a better person, it does not give you a higher standing in society. What it does do, is make you a child abuser.

You're a parent. Go ahead and imagine your child doing what your six year old "maid" does. How does it make you feel? How would you like it if someone exploited your child that way?

How pretty is that picture?

My Tree Hugging, Dirt Worshippers!

So, hello again and please don't ask where I've been, or why I haven't been feeling creative enough to blog the last few (really? few?) weeks. Let's talk about this week instead, and how my kids spent the better part of it chanting out their "lines" in preparation for Environment Month at school.

Kindergartners obsessed with the environment! What the hell is this world coming to? Honestly, I'm very annoyed at how seriously they seem to be taking this whole "Save the Earth" stuff. You're probably thinking "Oh they're four. How concerned can they be?" Well, when H goes around the house, switching off lights, regardless of whether there are people in the room or not, and announces "We should not use so much electric city" and when B randomly asks "WHY do people kill the Blind Dolphin? How can they EAT DOLPHINS?" you know they're headed towards obsession, and possibly going to become tree hugging environmentalists, who will insist we live in thatched roof huts, and eat organic vegetables forever.

Apparently, I never told them beef comes from cows. Well, I told them it comes from cows, I just didn't say how, and being three at the time, they were too naive to ask those deep and meaningful questions like "Do cows have to die so we can eat their meat?" But now with all this "Save the Earth" stuff, they're asking the questions people! So, in the usual direct way I respond to my kids, I told them yes, cows have to die so we can eat their meat. "Ohhhhh people are HORRIBLE" announced H. "Oh that's just GUSTING" announced B. "I'm never eating meat AGAIN" declared H. "Me either" said her adoring twin.

I guess we're not having steaks for dinner tonight.

They've also decided to recycle everything. And, I mean everything! I found them shoving empty biscuit packets into the family room couch, and I was like what in the world are you guys doing that for? And they were like "We're saving the packets for our next biscuits." "Those biscuits will already have their own packets" I told them. "But that's not RE-CYCLING Mama" So I was all like "Yeah, but neither is shoving it into the couch, it's better to find a way to RE-USE it for something else don't you think?" And they looked at me like Dude, we already have a plan. Go away!"

Do boarding schools still just concentrate on lessons and discipline?

Still, I happily dismissed their psycho babble about old newspapers, and that God awful song they kept singing all week Save the Eaarrrrrrthhh, Save the Eaarrrrrttthhhhh, and attended their class presentation this morning. Watched their class jump on stage and do their thing. It was pretty cool to be honest. All of them dressed in green, with different 'Green' messages pasted on their shirts, yelling out the lyrics of Save the Eaaarrrrrttthhhh completely off key, and grinning ear to ear. B&H both delivered their lines on recycling and saving the dolphins pretty well, and well dammit, they make their Mama proud.

I suppose old biscuit packets can be used as couch stuffing at some point.

Save the Earrrrrrtthhh!!!

Caffeinated Confessions

Getting right to it.

1. The kids went back to school this week and, I don't know who was happier, them or me.

2. The weather has been great, all cloudy and pleasant. Yet, I want to scream when I hear
people wishing for rain.

3. I've decided to throw out most of the stuff from my closet.

4. And, buy myself a new designer wardrobe.

5. But, I'll settle for off-the-rack stuff.

6. I think Kirk Cameron is still mentally in middle school, with the whole I want to tell the
world, I won't kiss anyone but my wife thing.

7. Some people don't get why I roll my eyes at crap like this.

8. I roll my eyes at them and then laugh.

9. My kids have decided to help me plan their birthday party in November.

10. I don't appreciate them barging into my territory, and told them so.

11. My daughter refused to give in and let me plan it by myself.

12. I threatened to sell her to a sweat shop.

13. It didn't work.

14. So, I told her there would be no party.

15. She laughed.

16. I went out to a girls night thing last Saturday, then told everyone who would listen about
it.

17. Apparently, it's not a big deal, because "Women do these types of things" and I don't do it
enough.

18. I really should.

19. I have nothing else to confess.

20. I'm pathetic, I know.

Informal Debate Rules - Thou Shalt and Thou Shalt Not

Most of my family or friends will tell you that I love to debate. They'll also tell you it's just another word for 'argue' and they're right. I can argue about anything, with anyone, at anytime, any day. My husband knowing this, married me anyway, and now probably lives to regret it. My four year old children, or at least my daughter is definitely biding her time watching, learning and preparing to kick my ass when I least expect it. I expect it every second of every day... I'm way ahead of her, and much taller.

What most people fail to understand, is that it's not a love for the actual argument, or beating someone when they're trying to make a point or **gasp** winning. It's just something people like me, do. And, we're not bad people, or bullies or whatever the hell you want to call us. We just like to make our point too, and most times we're so hell bent on making that point, we really do come across as bitches or bastards. Which is a load of crap. We love people, for the most part. I know I do, and I love to learn from them too.. Just because I'm talking hard and fast, does not mean I'm not listening. People tend to forget that when debating with the 'love to argue' types.

But, there are rules! Our rules, and we follow them, and just wish others would too. Granted they may not be formal rules listed on some international debate website, but they exist (or should) in any informal debate setting. So I'm going to type them out now, and probably piss off a lot of people in my life.

The Rules

1. Know What You're Debating
For there is nothing more annoying, than a person who likes to argue about something, he has little or no clue about. These are not the 'argue about everything' types... these ones usually have one pet subject they are ignorant about, and they love to show the world just how frickin ignorant they are about it... every chance they get.

2. Try to Understand
Make the attempt, really, it won't kill you. Time and again I see people not bothering to even attempt understanding what the other person is saying. Maybe they're just busy listening and agreeing with the voice (voices?) in their own head, so they can't hear, leave alone listen to anything else.

3. Be Yourself
If you do not have a personality, find one online or something, then adopt it.. and STICK with it. But to do not pull the whole I-have-a-multiple-personality-disorderish-type-of-personality. Which means you're nice one minute, and go completely off the deep end the next. It's confusing, and I for one never know if I should keep talking, or offer to run to the nearest pharmacy and buy you your meds.

4. Don't Be a Whiny Ass Baby
I'm going to play the whiny ass baby here for a second to really get the point across. I bring up a topic, and people get talking. Someone makes a point, and I begin an argument. They make another valid point, and all I can say in return is 'You're bullying me, wah wah wah, you're being so mean wah wah wah, and rude wah wah wah, and a bitch wah wah, wah, and I wish you wouldn't. You're so angry wah wah wah and I don't like anger because I've had a really hard day wah wah wah, I'm just trying to be nice and understanding of you and your point, but you won't let it go wah wah wah.

If I downed a drink for everytime I've encountered one of these piss poor excuses of "debators", I would be an alcoholic.

5. Keep it Simple.
Be short and to the point please and save the lengthy stuff for your blogs or journals like so many of us do. I like to debate, not lose my hearing to monotone crap, or make my retinas bleed a slow death. I just came across a couple of such "debate" posts on Facebook, and I swear to all that is holy, my eyes screamed in terror and I felt like they were gasping for air. It was terrible... sentence after sentence of type which would cure me of my insomnia if my eyes did not protest.

Thanks for stopping by... Have a great weekend!!

20 Confessions This Week

Too little time to post a whole long and drawn out post this week. Sad really, but I blame the heat which makes me lag behind on every major and minor chore around the house, outside the house, on top of the house... whatever.

01. I signed the kids up for dance class, and now wish I had checked the timings first.

02. Afternoon drives in what the weather bureau claims to be 35 degrees C is unbearable,
even with the air conditioning on full blast.

03. Weather forecasts for this city are always inaccurate.

04. I hate pollution more than everyone else.

05. Dance class does not drain kids of energy, an hour of it is like six tablespoons of sugar
washed down with Coke.

06. My husband cooked dinner today.

07. Because I pretended I was going to, and then let him insist he would.

08. I'm a good wife otherwise.

09. Made a plan to meet a fellow twin mom for breakfast, and kept my fingers crossed she
would be normal, and not one of those moms I love to hate.

10. She was better than normal, she was awesome.

11. My children have taken to wearing nothing when they're home.

12. I can't thank them enough.

13. My washing machine can't thank me enough.

14. It's 10:00pm and I haven't eaten dinner yet.

15. The husband can cook, and cook well... it's just taking a while today.

16. I'm a little hungry but won't ask how long before dinner's ready.

17. Because I'm a good wife like that.

18. My OCD kicked in big time today, and I cleaned like a mad woman.

19. I also decided my dining room needs a makeover, as in paint, new table, some this and
that.

20. Mentioned it to my husband... He pretended he didn't hear me.

There Is No Mute Button Is There?

On the way to school, during an argument about traffic lights which didn't make sense to me because all I heard was No, yes, I said NO, you're wrong, Am not, are too, NO, YES, thump, thump, thump, YES, NO.... Which led to...

Me: OK now, everyone QUIET
H: How long do we have to stay quiet?
Me: Till we reach school
H: All of us?
Me: Yes
B: Who taught you to be quiet mommy?
Me: Grandma
H: Did her mommy teach her to be quiet?
Me: Shhhh Quiet
H to B: I think grandma learned to be quiet all by herself
B: Me too... Hey do you think grandma taught daddy to be quiet too?
H: I dunno... Mommy, did grandma teach daddy to be quiet?
Me: No, his mommy did
H: Was he five years old then?
Me: No, now be quiet
B: But we've almost reached school
H: We're almost there, we're almost there
B: Can we talk now mommy?
Me: ***sigh***

Why didn't they each arrive in this world with a remote control? Why?

Poop Buddies

For the life of me I cannot understand my kids need, to offer each other support and companionship when one or the other decides to use the bathroom. Seriously, what is up with THAT? They are just constantly following each others' butts into the bathroom during poop time. She will drop anything she's doing and follow him when he has to go. He will wake her from a nap and ask her to join him. It's insanity, I tell you!

I walked into their room today to find B sitting on the bathroom floor jabbering away, while H was on the toilet. And of course since things like this don't just stop there when wanting to gross a mother out, they soon started arguing about her poop. He kept insisting he had heard three plops, she said it was just two. "I KNOW how many came out of my bummy" she yelled at him. "Yeah and there were THREE" he yelled back. "Were not" "Were too" "Were not" "Were too" "Were not" "Were too" "Were not" "Were too THREE." I could have gagged them with toilet paper, but I decided to bang my head against a wall instead. It drowns out the sounds of their screechy angry voices better.

So, they've been forbidden to acompany each other to the bathroom for poops. I put my foot down and that's that. "No more going to the bathroom with each other for poops" I said in my most controlled and firm tone. They both sulked for a few minutes and H informed me that I'm a mean mommy who's no fun. "Find something else to do together which is fun" said the mean mommy. And so I got to watch them accompany each other to the bathroom when each one wanted to pee. "Not pee either" I said more firmly. "You said POOP... you didn't say PEE." "Well, I'm saying it now"

B: Oohhh that's a foul and you KNOW it Mommy!!!!

I'm convinced there is a handbook for this, but our parents have hidden it from us and are secretly laughing their heads off while we struggle through these episodes. I just know this is their revenge for all those times we rebelled. So that's it! No more ugly handmade craft gifts they get to proudly display on their shelves for Grandparents Day. Not till I see the handbook.

When I Grow Up

As I settled myself down for some quiet time with my laptop, little H who was playing quietly with her dolls (well as quietly as any four year old pretending two naked Barbies are UFOs hell bent on crashing into each other while making whirring and gurgling sounds can be), I was about to log into Facebook and update my status which is rapidly becoming an addiction, when I heard "Mommy, what's your aim in life?" So I paused and tried to look thoughtful while my brain went into overdrive as it vainly tried to come up with a simple yet impressive answer. I finally remembered a life long dream to maybe write a book one day, so I said "I want to write a book one day"

If I thought that would impress her, I was mistaken. The look of disgust I got will stay stamped in my memory forever. "Haven't you written a book yet? I've already written so many." (Snotty little thing isn't she?). But I decided to boost her self esteem some more instead of shooting her down with an explanation of how all my notebooks full of scribble and stick figure pictures do not constitute as properly published books on the New York Times Best Seller list. I said instead "That's wonderful sweetie." And I was rewarded with a smile which made me forget my earlier intention of making a rude face at her.

After a few moments of more whirring and gurgling sounds I heard "When I grow up I want to be a doctor." Nothing stops a mother from posting stupid comments on her Facebook friends' walls faster than her child's extremely confident and clearly stated aim in life. (well that and blood curdling screams from remote parts of the house). A doctor! My daughter wants to be a doctor! "How the hell will we pay for that kind of education?" is quickly pushed out of your head with more pleasant thoughts of "She'll support us in our old age."

"That's fantastic sweetie!" I beamed at her while she smiled even more sweetly, before snapping off one of the Barbies' heads.

Then, I turned to B who was sprawled on the rug, also making whirring sounds while he tracked his monster truck along an imagined path and asked "What are you going to be when you grow up B?"

"Lightening McQueen" he grunted.

Ruling the Roost!

I've noticed since Seek and Destroy turned four, they for some odd reason now consider themselves the authority on everything. This simply does not sit well with me, since I've always considered myself the authority on everything... probably also since my fourth birthday. I'm sure my mom will agree, but this isn't about me, it's about them. You know, those two little twinlet 'know it alls' I have running around my house refusing to eat otherwise favored veggies because according to them veggies are junk food. Asking why they think that would be pointless as any parent of young children knows. But, against my better judgement, and also because I like to hear my kids speak sometimes, I asked "Why?" and got the following answers:

B: Poatoes are JUNK FOOD (he likes to yell out important words and terms) because they become chips and chips are JUNK FOOD.

H: I hate brocoli and that's why it's junk food. (As you can see, this one prefers the direct approach.

So thus ended the discussion of why they won't eat certain vegetables anymore, and made me hunt around on Amazon for the Deceptively Delicious cookbook I keep hearing rave reviews about, even though deep down I know they'll figure it out after a couple of meals because , well... I'm just blessed with such intelligent kids.

Then there's the absolute know it all attitude about everything. "We should always watch TV before we do our homework because it's good for our eyes" or "Daddy always has money in his wallet even when he doesn't have any money" (They know about the debit cards dammit) and "You're the best mommy in the whole world, mommy and you never yell at us." OK, OK, I made the last one up, but the other ones are just too horrible to mention.

Of course there are some things only mommy would know, and they humbly ask me the important questions such as "Why do cows have four legs and longer tails than dogs?" "Why does my teacher have smaller boobs than you do mommy?" "Are the clouds peeing because they drank too much water?"

And to think when they were almost two and only babbling, I used to worry they'd have speech problems.

The Doctor!

B: Hello little girl, are you ill?
H: Yes doctor, I have a headache and three fevers
B: (Pops the thermometer into her mouth) OK, let me check your temperament and if you have a heart

B: You have one fever, it's bad
H: Oh No! What medicine will you give me?
B: Green, red and yellow medicine for one hundred days
H: That's good, I like red
B: I found your heart, it's beating

B: And now young lady (picks up the syringe) be brave... it's time for your projection!

Ode to a Dead Pigeon!

H: Look B, a dead pigeon!
B: It's dead
H: It's dead
B: Yeah, it died.... it's dead
H: It died?
B: Yes, it died, dead
H: So it's dead
B: Dead
H: Dead
B: Mommy can we go to the play park?