Tasmiya

Ta da

I think I’m more excite than the kiddos. Shopping list this week includes mountains of chalk in every available colour and a blackboard duster.

1. Dishwasher is here!

2. We have been doing some painting around the house. Will post pics soon. (By the way, is there an easy way to get pics from digital camera to computer to blog without having to fiddle with sizes and formats and other computer rubbish. I have no computer skilz.)

3. The garden. Oh the garden. We really need to get stuck into it because it’s looking a bit on the gross disgusting side. The weather has been a bit awful past three days (yes yes, the summer we NEEDED to have - who needs summer? I ask you - who needs to swelter in 40 degree heat with nary a movement in the air and stifling heady humidity? WHO? HUH? HUH?).

4. What is it with tradespeople/gardening people. Do they not want our business?? Hello. We are here. We need you to fix things and take trees out of the yard and fix holes in walls and roof tiles and maybe we might need new blinds and floorboards (yes, the floorboards are only a fantasy right now but one day inshaAllah. One day.) So, how about CALLING US BACK SO WE CAN ORGANISE QUOTES? Surely you would like some money? And we are MADE of money. Call us.

Him: (incoherent mumble)

Her: What did you say?

Him: Oh, nothing. I was just doing my usual passive-aggressive thing.

Her: (upset) But I’m supposed to be the passive-aggressive one and YOU’RE the one supposed to be annoyed by ME!

Him: No, it’s the other way around, don’t you remember?

Her: NO! I don’t remember that.

Him: OK! FINE! YOU CAN BE THE PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE ONE!

Her: No, it’s ok. I don’t mind. You can be it.

Him: Oh dear, no. I’d hate to take away from your calling.

Her: No. Actually I insist. You be the passive-aggressive one. I’ll just have to find another personality disorder.

But that’s really ok.

I don’t mind.

Don’t worry about it.

*sighs*

Him: *sighs*

———————–

EVERYBODY! ROCK YOUR BODY!

Yes, backstreet’s I’m back!

Alright!

I think I needed a bit of time away from computer stuff and I thank each and every one of you who left comments and sent emails and text messages (well, it was only one text message but it was much appreciated and made me feel very loved.)

You guys are awesome.

So buckle up..it’s going to be a bumpy ride..arms in vehicle at all times…no smoking etc etc

Alhamdullilah for today:

1. Scones baked before 7 am this morning. I am SUPERMUM.

2. A wonderful quiet breakfast with the whole family. Nobody making a mess or crying!

3. Dash to Southbank for a fun-filled day - the playground, the water and the markets.

4. Finding a great little satchel for a reasonable price.

5. Coming home before noon with three exhausted children in the back seat of the car and the littlest asleep within 10 minutes of being strapped into his chair.

6. The whole family outside weeding the garden (long overdue mind you).

7. JUST ENOUGH polaramine in the bottle for my allergies due to #6.

8. Polaramine’s sedative properties. (Husband says I should not be blogging “under the influence.”

9. A cool bed to sleep in.

While wife is trying DESPERATELY to fall asleep:

Him : “Blah blah blah substantive blah blah management. Then bladeblade blah antidiscrimination blah..”

Her: “Mmhmm.”

Him: “So the blah blah blah interview questions blah. Blah blah the system.”

Her: “Ok.”

Him: “Oh sorry, you’re tired. Why don’t you just sleep.”

Her: “I’m trying to but SOMEBODY keeps talking!”

Him: “OK sorry!”

Pause

Him: “No talking. Sleep now.”

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Him: “No talking.”

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Him: “Starting from…………..NOW!”

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Him: “One. Two. Three.”

UGH!

See Also -How to Annoy Husband

I’m sorry if you feel as though I am neglecting you because of my children. You have to understand I can’t be there for everyone all the time and at this particular moment I choose my children. That doesn’t mean I don’t think our friendship isn’t important.

I’m just really tired of you. You are so completely suffocating that I can’t even *think* about you without going into an anxiety attack. You’re selfish, ungrateful and merciless. I try my hardest to make a meaningful connection with you and once, just ONCE I “neglect” you and every good thing I have done with you and for you is forgotten in an instant and I have to try extra hard to get you to respond to me again.

Friendships are hard work - I understand that. However it’s not supposed to be a one-way street. I can’t just keep on giving and giving and not having my friendship acknowledged. I’m not even asking you to give back to me.

You are high-maintenance and I’m exhausted. I’ve convinced my husband to try to get through to you and while he sometimes manages to charm you, even he is getting sick of your never-ending demands. My children don’t want to have a bar of you and I admit that’s probably because of my attitude towards you lately.

So it’s with a heavy heart that I say: Read the rest of this entry »

…I just have to share.

I’ve started making my own compost. YAY ME for being so biodegradable! It’s been a couple of weeks and guess what I have already?

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Maggots.

No. Maggots are NOT a good sign even in compost apparently. It means I have put meat and fat into my compost. I PLEAD NOT GUILTY TO THE CHARGES, YOUR HONOUR. So after gently coaxing husband into coming outside to “help me a bit with my compost”(… NOT A EUPHEMISM) there should be maggots no more inshaAllah.
Another thing - as I was researching my compost maggoty disaster, I came across this little bit of information about worm farming:

Poke about twenty holes in the bottom of one box. Put the lid on the box with hole and place this box on the box without the holes. The bottom box will catch the liquid produced by the worms (worm tea).

WORM TEA. I think I might go and make myself a cuppa.

Last night I got a call from my mother inviting us over for supper. It was a last minute decision and since I had already started preparing our supper, mum suggested I just bring it over to cook there. MISTAKE #1.

It was my time to finally show the family I could actually cook something edible. I brought over my pizza dough which had been made lovingly from scratch and placed carefully in a warm place to rise for just over an hour at my place. While the dough was rising, I had already cut my toppings to perfection.

After piling up the car with the kids and husband and all my necessary ingredients for the perfect pizza
I wondered if I should take my cheese. I don’t use any special mozzarella - just old cheddar (WE’RE ON A BUDGET OK?) Nah, I figured mum would have some at her place. MISTAKE #2.

So there I was at Mum’s, getting the pizzas ready and mum brings out her cheese.

“Mum, I think this has gone bad!”

“Oh no, it smells fine!”

“No, Mum this isn’t like any cheese I’ve ever smelt.”

My sister (DSAH) has a whiff too.

After much discussion and passing around the cheese and sniffing, it was decided that it was probably smelling different because it was a different brand. MISTAKE #3
It all became apparent once the pizzas were in the oven. My father, one with a nose even the truffle-sniffing pigs would envy asked, “Are you cooking with parmesan?” I knew we were in trouble then…..

My brother started gagging and my sister ran upstairs to escape the smell.

It was a disaster.

Moral of the story: ALWAYS CARRY YOUR OWN CHEESE.