My son is an alien

This morning I decided to make some applesauce for my 6 year old to have over his pancakes instead of the usual chocolate syrup. I steamed the apples and blended them with a little honey. Then I made star shaped pancakes and poured the applesauce over them.

Nadir took one bite and made the worst face possible. I scolded him for not keeping an open mind and told him to try another bite (after I had tasted it to make sure all was ok). Still the same face. I scolded him a bit more and brought a chocolate croissant for him to eat. He looked at me with a grouchy face and said “Why do you hate me?”

After telling him that i most certainly didnt, I left the room.

5 minutes of sitting by himself I heard him calling me, “Mama I’m sorry for being mean!”

“Ok Nadir, do you want me to come sit with you?”

When I sat with him as he happily ate his croissant, he said “Mama, actually I can’t eat healthy food because I’m from outer space.”

Patterns in my hair

I think it’s time I should dye my hair.

Yesterday Nadir and I were talking about patterns and he said “Mama there’s a pattern in your hair… black, white, black, white…”

Hmmph little smart ass! I know I have a few white hairs but surely not as many as I have black? He could have said “black, black, black, white…”

Anyway this is bound to happen. As I rejoice in my son growing up, learning new skills and becoming cleverer, I also have to embrace the fact that I am getting older. Hopefully I am also getting wiser. So that a few white hairs and a few wrinkles will not worry me but will remind me of the beautiful experiences I had and the love I shared and cherished.

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Mommy time

I have been realizing more and more, how important it is for me as a mother to have my own time doing things that I like to do.

In the last year I have started playing tennis, a sport that I have loved all my life but never had the opportunity of trying out myself. It gives me immense pleasure to spend 4 hours a week on the courts and come home tired but content. I have never played sports seriously as a child or even later and now in my late 30s I feel fitter and stronger than ever before.

Similarly I have never played a musical instrument before and i dont even have a natural musical sense but recently I have started piano lessons. I find it difficult but I’m learning by sheer stubbornness and have advanced to the next level.

So why is this important for a mother? Not only am I happier learning new things but also it encourages my son to want to learn too. If he is brought up in an environment where his mother shows interest in sports and music, he is sure to grow up wanting to do the same. If he sees his mother pursuing her hobbies whatever they may be, he is sure to want to have his own hobbies too. If he sees his mother grow as a person, he will too.

So a message for all the mommies out there: please find time for yourself and use it wisely, not only will it be good for you but for your children as well.

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Six going on Sixteen

I don’t remember what I was like at sixteen, it was too long ago. However my son who turns 6 in November seems to be “going on 16, waiting for life to start!”

He told me today that when he grows up, his children will call me Daadi (which means paternal grandmother in my language). Seems like he’s already got his eye on the future.

I also heard him singing “Babeyyy! I want to marry youuuuu!” However he refused to disclose who this song was for.

He was showing off his new shoes at the restaurant we went to for lunch and when the waitress asked whether his Mom had bought them or his Dad, he replied that he had bought them with his own money. I explained that having done a commercial and getting paid for it and also having had his shop in a trade event he did, indeed, have his own money. The shoes had been his own choice and he had insisted that I buy them, maybe it made him feel good thinking that he had bought them with his own money.

And here is the dude himself…

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/only-sixteen/

Just a Cuddle

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This is what happens when my son comes to my bed at night. He’s been sleeping in his own room for a year now but in the middle of the night he gets up, wears his slippers and quietly sneaks into my bed.

He says he gets lonely at night. Poor little guy is alone in his room except for his pet turtles. I leave his door and my bedroom door open and since my room is just across his, he probably finds it hard to resist transferring to my room. In the morning I find his slippers neatly placed by my bed.

It’s not that he gets nightmares or bad dreams. He’s never cried after getting up or told me that he’s scared.

Sometimes if I’m in the other room he’ll come there to find me or if he can’t find me there even, he’ll give me a shout knowing I’m somewhere in the house. Once he’s brought me to my bedroom he’ll just plop into the bed and fall asleep.

It’s been a year now since he’s been doing this. He probably just needs a cuddle and will eventually grow out of it. Of course I enjoy the cuddles as much as he does, it’s just when I’m dangling off the side of the bed or when I want to sleep longer in the morning, that I wish he would keep sleeping in his bed.

I asked my friends for advice and one of them who has 6 kids told me it’s normal for him to do that and that I should just relax. I guess she would know. Another friend told me that her 3 boys ranging from 3 years to 9 years do the same. I guess I shouldn’t even begin to complain. In a few years he’ll probably tell me that he’s too old to be cuddled and I’ll be remembering this time when he wakes up in the morning and says “Cuddle me, Mama!”

Little Picky Eater

For all those moms whose children are picky eaters, I feel your pain. I really do.

We were recently on vacation in Dubai and were staying at a hotel which like most good hotels had a lavish breakfast buffet. But Nadir refused to eat anything.

“The cereal is not sweet enough”, “The toast is too dry”, “The banana is too squishy”, “The croissant is too big”, he had an excuse for not eating every single thing offered to him.

Finally I decided to leave him in the room with his Dad while I, at least enjoyed the breakfast. I had just sat down with my plate full of delicious chocolaty pancakes, melt in the mouth butter croissants and juicy fresh fruit when my phone rang.

“Mama, I want to do potty!”

“Right, then do it! Your father is there isn’t he to help you clean up?”

“Yes but he doesn’t know what to do! Please come!”

I tried to stuff as many pancakes in my mouth as I could before I had to rush off to respond to the latest emergency.

I order the school lunch for Nadir in the hope that while eating with his friends he may be inclined to try out some new food. Sometimes he eats it but sometimes he doesn’t. And of course he always has a good reason for not eating.

“I tasted the chicken, it was disgusting!” “I didn’t have the rice because it had peas in it.” “I didn’t have the rice because it didn’t have anything in it!”

Sometimes he’ll just forget whether he ate or not at school, so I leave him until he asks for something himself.

We are soon going on vacations and I am dreading to think what Nadir will do there. Let’s hope he decides to eat what’s available and not worry me too much. After all I deserve a break too.