What's next?

I have been terrible, absolutely horrendous;  a failure of the blogosphere if you will.  But I'm here today to tell you what I have been consumed with for the past two years. Mothering.

No, I didn't have quadruplets, not even twins. Just one boy.  And what a boy he is.  But keeping up with him, and an all day long job, has left me with no will to think and type at night.  But for the sake of my own auditing purposes I'm going to list the time line of the past two years to get a grip on how fast time flies, and how few kilos one can lose in 24 months.

May 2008: After a difficult, 40 weeks of morning sickness, high blood pressure and crazy hormonal outbursts I had my son.  This was followed by lots of crying, laughing, freaking the hell out, projectile vomiting, zombie style elegance and self doubt.  Ali was fine.

September 2008: Back to work, more freaking out and self doubt. Gallons and gallons of guilt, and lots of hair pulling.  Ali was fine, but didn't really know who I was.

December 2008: Took a short holiday at home, to prove to Ali that I was his mother.  Ali liked me again. Whisker the best dog in the world goes missing, never comes back. Very sad.

February 2009: After endless efforts at the gym to lose the baby weight, I still look pregnant, so went on health watchers to lose the stupid excess.  Starved, ate tiny portions full of black pepper and caught a bread thief at work.  Lost 3 kilos.  What is that, like a hand bag?

April 2009: High stress at work, leads back to indulging in food, gain 1 kilo.  Ditch everything and go to London with my husband, drive to the country side, take pictures with bulls, pet squirrels--remember Ali.  Go back home.  He ignores me.

May 2009: Ali turns one. I'm too tired to organize a birthday party.  Ali walks. I pass out from pride.  Get him a cake at Saturday lunch, film him getting excited and clapping and looking absolutely adorable. Play back video...nothing got recorded.  Kick own ass. Quite challenging to do.

August 2009: Two week vacation with family and my parents in Lebanon. Chill by pool, go to beach, sleep all morning- stay up all night. Absolutely fantastic.  Feel happy again. 

September 2009: Back to work. Bahrain is hot. Again, kick own ass for not immigrating to colder country.  Becoming an expert.  Officially stop exercising, don't see the point.  Still look pregnant. WTF. Start playing Farmville, bury emotions and frustrations in harvesting digital fruits and vegetables.

December 2009-March 2010: Weather amazing.  Started doing Hot Yoga classes twice a week. Sit outside on porch every evening, farming my imaginary farm, wishing I had a real one. Ali is now talking, becomes more amazing everyday.  However, frequent floor hugging tantrums in public, make me feel useless as a mom. Very well behaved indoors. Wish there were witnesses.  Remodeled my kitchen.  Excellent outlet for emotions.

April 2010: Go to London for work.  Husband comes along.  THANK GOD. Get stuck in London one extra week because of Ash Cloud.  Mom tells me she'll take care of Ali, if the Ash Cloud doesn't go away, and wants to know what time he starts nursery in SEPTEMBER!  Somehow don't enjoy the forced extra time, but at least I'm not alone.  Miss Ali, wish I had the guts to travel 7 hours with him on a plane. Buy him lots of gifts to compensate.

May 2010: A month of hell at work, too much to do, no time to stop. Wish I was inside my digital farm.  Seriously consider faking my own abduction.  At 1.99, Ali starts demonstrating what the Terrible Two's are all about.

Ali turns 2.  You can forget about the birthday. Take two cakes to Friday and Saturday family lunch. Ali hates the "Happy Birthday" song, makes sounds like "The Exorcist" movie, and tries to bash the cake, this we actually HAVE on film.  Thank god I didn't invite kids.  Secretly sings "Happy Birthday" to himself in his room, when no one around.  I am relieved he's not possessed.

June 2010: A very rude and early summer arrives. And my drive and will to be productive departs. It's too hot to breathe outside, let alone get in a car or think.  Finally understand the concept of a siesta in hot countries.  Seriously consider demonstrating against long working hours.   Become obsessed with the random idea of going to live as a housewife in New York, then start looking at Long Island, Martha's vineyard.  Realize it's too far, shift obsession to a small island in France, then Greece.  End up looking at the website of Al Bander.  Sad.

Get cute pet Hamster for Ali instead.  They bond. What kind of an exit plan is that? Just one more mouth to feed at home.   Saw a couch I liked, asked price.  Was told it was 6000 dinars.  Told my husband about it 7 times.  Bought a bigger fluffier couch for 600, for a living room that wasn't built yet.  Trying to prove a point.  Still haven't won the lottery.

Present day:

YUCK! Some guy on TV just blended uncooked prawns and rolled them into a fillet of raw Sole. I think I'm going to throw up.  He's helping a woman cook up a romantic valentine dinner for her husband.  His badly dressed assistant is redecorating the woman's dining room into a Cupidic nightmare of red and tacky fake flowers.  Good luck with that, lady.

Anyway.  Now that I have shared my exciting memoirs, I'll come back soon, when something worth talking about has happened.  Meanwhile, Ali is bashing down the door, so I'll go see what my boss wants and then try to distract him with a hamster or a biscuit.