Ayaan, the two-year-old, comes up saying “I want to do pilates”. I am thinking ‘what?’ The 7-year old yells out “come, I’ll help”. She sets up the Wii, brings out the Wii-fit board, pops in some DVD and they all start doing yoga and pilates.
I still don’t know what pilates actually is, but apparently they do it regularly.
Wife and Ayaan (2 yrs old) passed by a gas station. Ayaan gives out a big huff of air and yells out in utter shock and disbelief: “argh, it’s 86c for car wash?”
(Gas costs around that much per litre in Canada)
I should’ve handled it when this happened. The other day someone knocks the door. As I walked towards the door, I heard this:
Hamza (yelling): “There’s someone at the door. He has white skin”.
Safiya: “Hamza, you dont say that!”
At this point I am thinking good, at least the 7 year old has some sense. But then I heard this:
Safiya: “You say light brown skin”
Hamza (still screaming): “There is a light brown guy at the door”
Safiya: How old is Canada?
Me: About 150 years old.
Safiya: Wow, that is so old. That is a very long time ago! One-hundred-and-fifty-years! Were you there when they discovered Canada?
Me: No.
Safiya: Oh, so only grandma was there?
We pass by four motorcycles. Ayaan informs me: “look, four motorcycles.”
Like any other father, I come home all proud that my two year old can count. I take him to the kitchen in front of THREE cups and ask him to count. He goes: “one, two, four”. I tell him, “No, it’s one, two, three”. "No, it’s four”, he replies.
Determined, I put five cups. “Count now”. “One, two, four, five, four”, he replies. Argh, I take him in front of 9 spoons.”How about now?” “One, Two, Four, Five, Six, Eight, Seven, Four, Four”.
At the end it didn’t matter. The answer was always four.
I guess he’ll play golf.
Ayaan’s (partially) potty trained (he’s 2.5 yrs old). When he is about to, umm, urinate, he yells out “3, 2, 1 … GOOOO” followed by an assurance “it’s coming”. Good to know he has that part mastered. Now only if I can get him to do “number 2” that successfully …
Took the kids swimming yesterday.
Ayaan: I have to go to the bathroom
Me: Oh. Lets get out, quick
Ayaan: It’s okay, I am done now
Me: Done what?
Ayaan: I did already, I don’t have to go anymore
Me: Kids, we are going to the other pool now. Lets get out fast.
My kids sleep at 7:30. Yet sometimes they seem really tired during the day and I noticed dark circle around my eyes.
Yesterday I asked Hamza (age: 6) to wake me up when he wakes up so we could put together the bionical we had bought the day earlier. That guy comes to my room and wakes me up at 2:30am! I sent him back. Around 5 he comes again, at which point he had already woken his sister up (she’s 7) and they were playing in her room.
I have no idea when these kids actually get up. Time to buy a digital clock for their rooms and tell them to stay in their beds, in their own rooms, until a more holy hour.
… having to clean poo from your favourite antique rug (hand-knitted, vegetable colours, the whole 9-yard) or having to go hunting around the house for poop because your 2 year old decided to change himself after the accident.
As if it wasn’t bad enough that my 7 year old got two love notes last week. She got a marriage proposal yesterday! Must resist temptation to put fear of God in a 7 year old boy’s heart. Wife won’t let me give him a wedgie either! What’s a father to do????
Saw Ayaan punching his sister.
Me: “Ayaan, what are you doing” – I hoping it was enough to indicate that I was watching, therefore he should stop.
Ayaan: “I am punching her cuz she turned the Wii off” - At this point, he kicks her. So much for me “watching”.
What the heck did my parents do to make me so terrified of them?????
Ayaan comes home with a small motorcycle.
Me: Ayaan, may I see it please?
Ayaan, looking around: You can see that car over there
Me: I want to see the motorcycle, I will give it back to you.
At this point Ayaan walks up to the couch, lifts the cushion, slides the motorcycle underneath, shows me his hands and says:
Ayaan: It’s gone now.
It’s official. My 2 year old thinks I am a moron.
I wonder if the fact that I played around and acted all shocked that he made the motorcycle disappeared right before my eyes had something to do with it.
The conversation happened after Ayaan came back from his play-group thing.
Me: Ayaan, what did you do?
Ayaan: I ching a chong (translation: I sang a song)
Me: What song did you sing?
Ayaan: A. B. Chee. Tee.
Me: Can you sing it to me please?
Ayaan: No, I am poken (broken)
Me: Awww, how did you break?
Ayaan: I pell op the pike (I fell off the bike)
Me: Oh no, what happened
Ayaan: And I pleeded (bled)
Me: Oh no, how did you bleed?
Ayaan: I was triving (driving) at it and I pell op (fell off) and I pleeded (bled)
Me: How did you fall down?
Ayaan: Because I pell down
Me: Awww, how did you fall?
Ayaan: Because I was triving at it and I pell op and I pleeded.
Me: But how did you fall?
Ayaan (frustrated tone): Because I WAS TRIVING AT IT AN I PELL OP AND I PLEEDED AND I AM POKEN (broken)
Me: But....
Ayaan: I am not talking.
And he walks away.
Ayaan is partially potty trained. Experience my evening:
“BABAAAAAAAAAA – Ayaan made a mess”
I ran up and see sh*t (lets call it poop from now on), literally, all around the kitchen floor (as he walked, it dropped). I pick the boy up, rush to the bathroom with him and he drops some more. Okay, take his pants of, wash his skinny legs full of, well, you know what, dress up him and come back to clean the kitchen. As I am wiping the floor I hear “I am doneeeee”. “Done with WHAT?” “Potty”. “What do you mean potty?” “I did potty”.
Now there’s poop on the kitchen floor and a dirty baby upstairs.
So I rush upstairs, kitchen floor is not fully clean yet, take the boy’s pants off, throw it in the hamper, take him to the bathroom when I notice his legs are brown. “AAAAH”, I leave him in the bathroom, rush to the laundry basket, take his pants out, flush stuff down the toilet and take it back to the laundry room when I noticed Sushi, our youngest cat, was playing with her cat litre again and made a huge mess (including, well, more crap on the floor).
Now there’s still poop on the kitchen floor, a dirty baby in the bathroom with poop on his legs and cat poop in the laundry room.
I decide to clean the cat litre first. As I am doing it I hear Safiya and Hamza fighting over a toy computer. “Stop fighting or you both are going in the garbage, along with the computer”. Meanwhile Ayaan screams “I am dirtyyyyyy”.
So now I have poop in the kitchen floor, a dirty baby the bathroom with poop on his legs , cat poop in the laundry room and two screaming kids in the bedroom.
Ayaan keeps screaming so I leave the laundry room floor, go to the bathroom and notice that he tried to smell a flower by flipping the pot over his face. His face and body is now full of mud. Meanwhile he pooped some more and he was naked sitting on the bathroom counter!
Now I have poop on the kitchen floor, a dirty baby in the bathroom with poop on his legs and mud on his face, cat poop in the laundry room, two screaming kids and poop on the bathroom counter right next to my toothbrush (which promptly went in the garbage).
So now I shower the boy, put him in bed, send the older two to bed after threatening them with things I would rather not repeat, clean and disinfect the bathroom countertop, clean cat litre and the laundry room, clean and disinfect the kitchen floor, grab a bowl of cereal and as I am walking towards the TV to FINALLY relax …. I step on something wet, warm and squishy. I look down and it’s brown and smells like, well, POOP.
So there, I think this evening easily reduced my life expectancy by at least 5 years. And I’ve never used the word “POOP” so much in my entire life.
Hamza turned six.
At night he came to me, lifted his arm all the way up and said “I always had to do this to reach the light switch". At this time he put his arm down to just above his head and said: “but today I had to do this. I was so confused. And then I remembered I turned six today.”
:)
Me: “Ayaan, leave the cat alone” (Ayaan is 2.5 yrs old)
Ayaan: “I want to hug him”
Me: “Dont, he’s sleeping”
Ayaan: “BUT I WANT TO HUG HIM”
Me: “He will wake up, leave him please.
Ayaan walks up to me, climbs on the coffee table and punches my face. Real punch, with a fist.
Me, in a stern voice: “Ayaan, what did you do?”
Ayaan: “I punched you!”
Me: “Why did you punch your father”
Ayaan: “Because you said dont hug the cat”
WTH! No more TV for this boy. None. But he doesn’t watch violent TV. We don’t go around hitting people. Where is he picking this stuff from?
So ya, I got punched in the face by my 2 year old.
Hamza: “Baba, why am I so cute?”
Baba: “Cuz you’re a Hamid”
Hamza: “Ya, and aapi and Ayaan are cute”
Baba: “They are Hamids too”
Hamza: “And you are cute”
Baba; Ya, I am a Hamid”
Hamza: “But Mama is only half-cute”
Baba: “Why is that?”
Hamza: “Cuz she’s a Duran”
”Mama” did not find the conversation nearly as amusing as I did.
Safiya: “I know why you forget things so much”
Me: “Why?”
Safiya: “Cuz as you get older, your brain gets old and your memory gets bad”
Me: “Uh, I guess that makes sense”
Safiya: “Wait, so Ayaan must have the best memory” (Ayaan is 2)
Me: “I suppose he does”
Safiya: “And daadi (grandma) probably never remembers anything since she’s so old” (she’s not even 55 yet)
Me: “Well, she remembers some stuff”
Safiya: “Baba”
Me: “Yes?”
Safiya: “Did they have TV when you were a kid?”
Me: “I don’t know, I guess my memory isn’t good enough to remember”
Safiya, looking at her brother: “We’ll have to start remembering things for him”
Hamza nods in agreement: “Soon he won’t remember anything at all”
Do not => Don’t
Are not => Aren’t
Is not => Isn’t
So it’s only logical that my five year old said : “I amn’t hungry". He is going to be a Math major like his father.
Hamza was 4 and Safiya was 6 when someone gave them a toy gun as a gift. I returned the gift because I did not want them playing with guns at that young age. THAT is how careful I tried to be.
Ayaan (2.5 years old) comes to me and goes: “Baba, can we go to the store and get another cat?”
”Why? You don’t like Sushi and Spice?”
”I do like him” (everything is “him”)
”We already have two cats. We wont get more”
So he looks at Sushi. He looks at Spice. He looks at Sushi. He looks at Spice. He walks up and approaches Spice saying “Okay, I will kill him. Then can we get another cat?”
Where oh where did I go so wrong?
So we have adult company tonight. Yes, grown-up friend coming over (what a concept).
In my excitement, I accidentally grab mocha instead of hot chocolate to make “chocolate milk” for kids. I do remember thinking “wow, hot chocolate never smelled this good”. The 2 year old even asked for a second cup. “Sure, of course”, I was only happy to oblige.
@$#@#$@#$@$@#$@.
Now my wife’s struggling with the two year old and I put the older two to bed promising them waffles tomorrow morning. Fingers crossed, I hope they sleep before caffeine kicks in. It is an hour before their bedtime. Darn it! I wanted to hang out with grownups without them kids :(
So I am cleaning the kitchen and decided to clean the fridge out when I thought (argh, stupidly) that it may be a good idea to send kids to brush their teeth. They were barely gone for 5 minutes when I went up to check. What do I see? A puddle of water flowing out of the bathroom (and we have hardwood in the hallway upstairs). Ayaan’s sitting on the counter with a huge foam of soap on his hair and red eyes while Safiya’s trying to clean soap off his eyes.
“WHAT IS GOING ON?????”, I yelled in horror.
”I am giving me spikies”, Ayaan replied.
Frustrated, I sent Safiya to bed and Hamza to change into his PJs. And, gulp, took Ayaan’s diaper off while he was standing. I’ve had two other kids in diapers, I should’ve known to check if his diaper was clean first. Next thing I know, there’s mess all over the counter and his legs (use your imagination). So I quickly clean up the bathroom, dry the floor and give him a shower. I take him to his room, put him on his bed and rush to the bathroom to get his diaper.
So 30 seconds later I go to his room. He looks at me with a huge grin on his face and says “I did it”. “You did what?” I asked. “I did it and I didn’t do it in the diaper”. I quickly realized what “it” was when I saw the yellow puddle on the duvet (note to self: give him more water, it shouldn’t be this yellow. Second note: tell the boy not going in diaper is only good if he goes in the toilet).
Another set of cleaning. I change his clothes, read them all books (one by one, they are all in different stages), put them all to bed and and go downstairs to make myself some tea. I haven’t even started boiling water yet when I hear noises upstairs. I come up and the boy (2.5 year old) has lights on and has put all his cars and trucks in a row. I look at his bed and he’s lying there with eyes closed, pretending to sleep.
At this point I was frustrated enough that there is only one thing to do: vaccum. So I literally vaccum the whole house as the kids complain they can’t sleep (bedtime is 8 and it’s 7:45, I am okay. Most of our house is hardwood anyway, just the kids’ rooms are carpeted). Finally I turn it off and they all say “finally we can sleep”. I go down to make tea and before I even put water in the pot I hear noises. I come up and Ayaan’s playing with the truck and Hamza’s standing in the hallway. Hamza looks at me and (being a quick thinker) goes, “uh … I only came to tell you Ayaan came out of his bed”.
So now I am sitting in the hallway typing this so they all stay in their beds. Hamza just came out, saw me and ran back thinking I did not notice. Ayaan is trying to negotiate with me “you can work on the computer if you ching (sing) me a chong (song)”. Safiya is quiet, but that’s because she is likely reading (I don’t mind that). Scratch that, I hear noises from her room.
And THAT, my friends, is why my hair don’t grow no more (TM).
Ayaan: “Can I come to the basement?”
Me: “No, I am working”
Ayaan: “Okay, I am coming”
Me: “No Ayaan, don’t come”
Ayaan: “Then fine, I am coming”
Me: “I said, no”
Ayaan: “Actually fine, I will come”
Comes to the office and climbs on my lap.
Took the kids to the Demolition Derby this weekend (I know, I know).
If ‘t’ is the time we left, then it went like this :-
t – 2.5 hours:
Me after spending $24 to get in: “What a ripoff”
t – 2.25 hours:
Wife: “Can we get fries please?
Me: “Sure, I’ll go get it”
Me after spending $12 for fries: “What a ripoff”
t – 2 hours:
|Hamza: “Look, Demolition Dirty is coming”
Ayaan: “This is so much pun (he can’t say f)”
t – 1 hour:
Kids: “Can we go on rides please? Please? Please?
Me, looking at cash in my pocket: “Uh, sure. But just one each”
Kids: “Yay….”
t – 30 minutes:
Kids: “Can we go on one more, please? please? Please?
Me: “Argh, sure”
t – 15 minutes:
Me: “Alright kids, I have no money left, lets go”
Safiya: “This is not fair!”
Me: “What’s not fair?”
Safiya: “I didn’t even get to go on the ride I wanted to”
Me: “Why in the world did you go on rides you did not want to?”
Safiya: “I want to go to this one”
Me: “Why did you go to the other ones then?”
Safiya: “I wanted to go to those one before. But NOW I want to go to this one”
t – 5 minutes:
Safiya: “I did not even have fun cuz I did not even get to go to the ride I wanted to go to”
Next time I’ll just stay home, save $50 and hear “it’s not fair” at the comfort of my own home!
I am traveling.
I slept for, wait for it, 14 straights hours last night. Tried to take a nap and slept through. I can already see some hair budding out :). Well, if I look really, really carefully (and use a little imagination).
Wish I were home though :(
Lets take a break from poking fun at my kids and focus on what’s important.
Ayaan (he’s 2.5 yrs old) and I spend some time playing with cars and trains in his room. He actually played really maturely. His tractor would stop for my train and wait for it to pass (wow, there is hope for the boy). After playing calmly for a bit he decided he missed his motorcycles (which were downstairs). We came down and ate apples for snack.
Yesterday Safiya (she’s 7), out of the blue, came to me, gave me a big hug and said “Baba, you are the best dad a daughter could ever have”. I quickly said she was the best daughter a father could ever have and hugged her so she couldn’t see my teary eyes.
Same day Hamza (6 yrs) came and talked to me about the complexity of having a baby brother. I mean a real mature conversation. More teary eyes.
It’s stuff like this and this that gives you the strength to put up with enjoy parenthood with a smile! You know when you happily stand in line in the hot sun for 45 minutes so your children could get a 60 second pony ride.
So lets take a break for all the complaining and focus on the love. We’ll return to our regular programming in a few days.
We were visiting someone when Ayaan (2.5 yrs old) came downstairs with a toy car.
Me: “Ayaan, where did you get it from?”
Ayaan: “It’s mine”
Me: “It’s not yours”
Ayaan: “It’s mine”
Me: “Who gave it to you?”
Ayaan: “I gave it to me”
Can’t argue with that logic.
Safiya is 7. She likes to read. So when it’s bedtime and she pleads to let me read a bit, I do what any loving father would do: I ask her to read to her brothers (so I don’t have to).
So she reads to her younger brothers as I catch up on TV shows. Then they all go to bed.
And she thanks me for letting her read. Kids ….
:)
So Ayaan comes to the garage riding a small car. He doesn’t have a small car. Ayaan is 2.5 years old.
Me: “Woh, what’s this?”
Ayaan: “It’s a car”
Me: “I know. But whose is it?”
Ayaan: “it’s mine”
Me: “No it’s not. That bike next to that crying kid is yours”
Ayaan: “No it’s not. That’s his bike. This is mine”
I’d have pulled my hair out if I had any left!
We have a cat named Sushi.
Ayaan: “Look at Chuchi”
My wife (to imitate him): “Look at Chuchi”?
Ayaan, launghing: “It’s not Chuchi. It’s Chuchi”
Me: “It’s Chuchi?”
Ayaan: “No, it’s Chuchi”
Me: “Sushi?”
Ayaan: “Yaaa. It’s Chuchi. Not Chuchi. Chuchi!”
I was changing Ayaan’s unusually stinky diaper when I asked, “why didn’t you use the toilet? Why did you go in your diapers?”
Ayaan: “Noooo I didn’tttt. Mama did”
Me: “Mama did what? You did potty in your diapers”
Ayaan: “Mama did. I did noooot”
Me: “Mama did this?” I pointed to, well, you know what
Ayaan: “Yaaaa”
This is getting out of hand. How do you discipline a two year old for lying?
Hamza is 5. Ayaan is 2.
Last night after we tucked them all to bed I came down to drink tea (don’t ask). I heard someone come down the stairs.
Me: “Who is coming down? You are in deep trouble”
Footsteps paused.
Me: “Who is it?”
Ayaan: “This is Ham-chcha”
I hear footsteps upstairs
Hamza: “noooo, it’s not me. It is Ayaan”
Ayaan: “No, I am Ham-cha”
Me: “Whoever you are, go back to bed right now”
Pause
Ayaan: “I am thirsty. I want water”
Me: “Go drink it upstairs”
Pause
Ayaan: “I have to tell you something”
Well, at least that boy is persistent.
Ayaan is 2.
Me: “Did you hit your brother?”
Ayaan: “Noooo I didnnntttt”
Me (in a very stern voice): “Are you lying?”
Ayaan: “No, I am nooooot”
Me, giving him the stare of death known to vapourize people instantly: “DID. YOU. HIT. YOUR. BROTHER?”
Ayaan: “Yes, I did”
Me: “Why did you lie to me?”
Ayaan, calmly: “I did noootttt”
Me: “Why did you say you did not hit him”
Ayaan, in the same calm tone: “I did nooottt say thatttt”
My future generations are doomed.
There will be no complaining today.
Ayaan came running to me, jumped on my arms and gave me a loonnngggg, tight hug. Then he kissed my cheeks and went “and nose?”. I said “yes”. Then he kissed my nose.
To suck up to my wife (to get brownie points for later use, ya know) I asked him to go hug his mama. “No, I don’t want to”, he replied. Then he got off me as if he was saying “you blew it man, you blew it.”
There are words I use that, well, I suppose normal people aren’t exposed to as much. I’ve taught my kids those too, so they are well on their way to prosperity. I honestly did not realize until fairly recently that these words aren’t as commonly used as I thought they were:
Me: “I love you Ayaan” (Ayaan is 2.5 years old)
Ayaan: “No”
Me: “I really do love you”
Ayaan: “I don’t love you”
Me: “huh?””
Ayaan: “I don’t want to love you”
Me: “But I really, really love you”
Ayaan: “I am not talking”
Me: “Ayaan!”
Ayaan: “I said, I am not talking”
And he walks away.
Ah, all those sacrifices, costs, sleepless nights … and this is what I get in return!
So I had 7, yes SEVEN kids yesterday. A few things happen when you have that many kids to look after:
I should get a badge or something. “I survived 7 kids, only 3 my own”.
Someone gave me two tickets to the air show (thank you, once again!) So I did what any father would do, I took my two boys and left the house to turn it into a Hamid-family-male-bonding-day. The only problem was that the other two Hamids were 5 and 2!
First we got stuck at the traffic forever. Yes yes, should’ve taken the train. I got it now. Then, we spent an hour looking for parking (yes, an hour). Eventually I found something 3.5 kms away from the air show, which is when I realized I didn’t take the stroller. Oh get this, this wasn’t entirely legal parking. I did pay $15 to park, but it was in a residential building and all visitor spots were taken. So I parked at the reserved spot. $15 earned me that, I think.
Waking 3.5 kms with two young children was nothing. The “fun” started when we got there. The morons at CNE didn’t know where the air-show was. One of them pointed me to a direction (”go there and find a place”) and failed to mention that “there” was far, FAR away AND that they had a free shuttle going from here to there. We were already so late, we made a run for it. I was still carrying the 2 year old while the 5 year old tried not to complain.
So eventually we got to a bridge. Nope, not it. Then a second bridge, not that either. At which point I decided to go see the map and noticed a third bridge. “Is that the right one?” Being a good consumer, I decided to ask a worker. That waste of skin directed me towards somewhere totally different. What the heck? How difficult is it to say: “I don’t know” or “I am not sure”? Idiots!
By this point the kids were tired and decided they wanted to go on rides instead (btw, the third bridge was it). To make things worse, since the 2 year old could just hear loud planes and not see them, he decided he was afraid of them.
Alright, fine. Lets go on rides. Each ride was $4 per child. WTF? Merry Go Round for $8? So poor kids just went on 3 rides before I ran out of cash. We spent rest of the time walking around.
Oh guess what, when I got back they had called the tow truck. I just made it out before it showed up.
Did I mention I was fasting? Yes sir, 5 hours of walking in the sun with not a drop of water to drink.
Yup, that’s why my hair doesn’t grow anymore!
[On the flip side, the kids had a blast. Weird]
I was at my parents’ when I heard the 5 year old screaming in fear. I turned around and saw him run past me and hide behind the couch. I looked further and saw the 2 year old chasing him with a can of Febreze (except he thought it was Raid).
Me: Ayaan, what are you doing?
Ayaan: I am trying to kill him.
Me: Huh? Don’t kill your brother.
Ayaan: No, I want to kill him.
Me: Come here, give me that.
Ayaan: I said, I REALLY WANT TO KILL HIM
Me: Come here!
Ayaan: I am not talking to you
Me: Can you come here please?
Ayaan: I said, I am not talking.
And he’s two! My future! He is supposed to carry the family name forward, spread my DNA.
I think I will change his name while I am ahead. Bush seems like an appropriate family name for the behaviour :)
(I kid, I kid .. he’s not that bad)
From http://bit.ly/gXv5E.
Texas State Fair has 8 new treats. Most are artery-clogging-heart-attack-causing deep fried. But this one takes the price:
"100 percent pure butter is whipped 'til light and fluffy, then specially sweetened with a choice of several flavors. It is then surrounded by a "special dough" and quick-fried.
![Deep%20Fried%20Butter%20-%2012[1]](http://lh4.ggpht.com/_ZM_0GG6r_II/SqAIDdkqUwI/AAAAAAAAAKY/2XS6eAsnvNY/s1600-h/Deep%20Fried%20Butter%20-%2012%5B1%5D%5B3%5D.jpg "Deep%20Fried%20Butter%20-%2012[1]")
For those counting, a stick of butter has 810 calories, before it is deep fried. And I doubt they are frying in olive oil. And it’s pure fat, baby!
Okay, so some of my hair-loss is because of stressing out over the stupidity of fellow humans.
Ever felt that no one really understood you? Ever felt everyone was weird? That only you could see things when others could not? Well, wonder no more. It’s settled. If you’re normal then everyone else is weird. In fact, scientists find that everyone (else) is a mutant.
Rejoice, (other) people are weird. You are normal. It is them, not you. Hurray!
![comb-over1-thumb-167x175[1]](http://lh5.ggpht.com/_ZM_0GG6r_II/SpslF5g2zII/AAAAAAAAAKQ/ivbmJwvFIyM/s1600-h/comb-over1-thumb-167x175%5B1%5D%5B4%5D.gif "comb-over1-thumb-167x175[1]")
Seriously, is there anything more universally ridiculed? You outgrew your hair, live with it. You aren’t fooling anyone (We know you are bald. Seriously. We know).
Comb over, comb forward, comb around … it’s all lame. Just shave it off dude. You lost your hair, it’s gone. Bald men are hot!
Denial is only the first stage. I understand, we all go through it. You aren’t supposed to get stuck at denial, you are supposed to move on to anger then bargaining then depression so you can finally accept.
Let this blog be a motivation. Go ahead, shave it off. Post a pic for motivation for other comb overs.
If I ever get a comb over, go ahead and shoot me. Save this post in case you are charged for murder or something. The judge would understand. Unless he has a comb over, then you are out of luck.
I wonder how many people were spanked at least once as children. I suspect the number is larger than we think. They may deny it, but it’s true. Heck I’ve been spanked for being spanked (I had bony bums that hurt my mum’s hand as she was spanking me).
[Okay, that didn’t really happen but it sounded funny]
The problem with spanking is that it doesn’t really work. My brother and I actually came up with a beating scale. “How expensive do you think this is?” “I think it’s four beatings” “Woa, cheap, lets do it.”
My mom’s smart though, caught on one day. I had a deprived childhood from that day on. I didn’t really know what to do. It’s like if the supermarket removes price tags from all its products.
Jokes aside, these kids! I swear there are days I contemplate spanking, or jumping out the window. They really learn how to push your buttons early. I caught Ayaan drawing on the leather couch, with a butter knife:
“Hey hey hey, stop! What are you doing????”
“I am drawing a choo choo train.”
“Why?????”
“Because I am drawing a choo choo train.”
“Why are you drawing it on the couch?”
“Because I am drawing it on the couch.”
“Why are you using a knife?”
“Because I am using a knife.”
“Why aren’t you using paper and pencil?”
“Because I am not using paper and pencil.”
Argh, I took the knife away and left a screaming child behind as I took a note to myself: “teach this boy the meaning of word ‘because’.”
And they wonder where my hair went.
I have the sweetest cats that ever lived.
Sushi, the 4 month old, eats a teaspoon of liquid food every morning. Spice, the year-and-a-half-old, does not. But every morning Spice comes in meowing, drags me to the fridge and literally pushes me until I put a teaspoon of cat food in the bowl. Then Spice calmly walks away so Sushi can eat it. Heck Sushi even stopped asking for it since she knows Spice will do it for her.
He was the sweetest kid in the world:
Reminds me of my undergrad at the University of Waterloo:
![2009-08-01-turnout[1]](http://lh3.ggpht.com/_ZM_0GG6r_II/SpLU35PVDmI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/jLbPwO_RGCY/s1600-h/2009-08-01-turnout%5B1%5D%5B6%5D.gif "2009-08-01-turnout[1]")
Source: http://www.socialsignal.com/cartoon/cherchez-la-femme.
Me: “Safiya, who is the best girl in your class"?”
Safiya: “Me :)”
Me: “Who else?”
Safiya: “xyz”
Me: “How come?”
Safiya: “Cuz she has pretty eyes and … <goes to describe physical features>”
(Note: from “best” she took “best looking”)
Me: “Hamza, what about in your class?”
Hamza: “xyz”
Me: “How come?”
Hamza: “Cuz he is my best friend”
:)
This shows why my wife and I don't watch movies together.
She comes back from watching 'The Time Traveler's Wife'. Our conversation went like this:
"It was such a good movie"
"Let me guess [I knew it was a girly movie]. The guy travels back in time and meets his wife when she was a child"
"You read the book"
"I didn't even know there was a book"
"No, it was actually good"
"Time travel? They are always so cheesy with their bad science explanation"
"No they didn't have a machine"
"How did he travel through time?"
"He had a gene"
"Huh?"
"Ya, a time travel gene"
"Oh ya, that's not cheesy at all. What a smart explanation [sarcasm]!"
"No, it was good because it wasn't like those movies where he didn't want to change the past cuz he did not want the future to be impacted"
"So it was like those movies where no matter what he did, the outcome was the same cuz what happened, happened?"
"Uh, ya. He couldn't save his mom no matter what he did"
"Oh ya ... ahem .... not like time travel movies at all"
"No but he dies"
"Sad ending?"
"No, he comes back to meet his wife"
"From death?"
"No, from the past before he died"
"Umm...Ya"
"What?"
"So he didn't win a lottery then"
"Oh no, he did"
"What?"
"He saw the numbers and went back to buy the ticket"
"Right. Can't save his mother from dying cuz he cannot alter history but lottery ticket, that's ok"
"What?"
"Nothing. How did his clothes travel with him?"
"See, they didn't. that's what was cool. He always ended up naked"
"Oh, so he did not meet his wife when she was a child?"
"He did, she was only 6"
"And he was naked?"
"Yes"
"And she did not run to her parents screaming?"
"No, he asked for her blanked"
"Of course. that's not creepy at all"
"What?"
"Nothing. Sounds like a wonderful movie"
Producers should be fired. If my 7 year old daughter sees a naked man lying in the fields I sure as heck hope she would run to me screaming. Anything less and I failed miserably as a parent. Sheesh.
I watch a LOT of sci-fi (and therefore, a lot of time traveling movies - which i hate with a passion). The only two time travel movies I have ever enjoyed are Back to the Future series (duh, but cuz it's comical) and Time Machine (that had potential but did not live it).
My wife and kids have been sick, really sick. Worse, they don’t wake up at night at the same time. Instead, they take turns. Operating on very little sleep, there was only one logical thing to do the day my mother-in-law came over to help out: FENCE THE YARD :).
One day’s work:
In the hindsight catching up with sleep may have been better, but hey.
Zeeshan.
My 5 year old comes up to me the other day and says, "Baba, why do some people say 'black people' and 'white people'".
Not knowing where he was going with that, I asked, "What do you mean?"
"Because", he goes, "everyone's brown. Some people are just lighter brown than others".
Now that I think about it, he's right. There is just one race, the brown people :).
I am back from vacation. Relaxed, truly! I love the Quebec City, I am definitely going there every year.
Oh and I got a new kitty. She is the sweetest thing. She purrrsss if you just look at her.
Will post pictures later.
It’s been a week. Siamese cats are very friendly and he is particularly loud. I doubt he’d have gone this long without getting noticed. I have even gone door-to-door asking people if they’ve seen the cat. I am fairly certain someone found him and kept him. I am offering a $100 reward if you know where he is.
Poor Spice (his brother) is so lonely, he cries every night. Yesterday I found him cuddling with Ayaan since he misses his brother’s warm body. That’s particularly strange because he otherwise hates Ayaan and runs away when he sees him.
It’s JUNE and I still have to wear a sweater to go out. We had to shut all home windows and turn the fireplace on! Wrong, so wrong!
| My “Milton, Halton, Ontario & Canada” blog has moved to http://www.zhamid.ca/blog. There wasn’t any point of mixing personal rambling (this one) with a more focused rant (that one). |
So when we first moved to the house, the washing machine broke and flooded the whole upstairs. Had to fix the damaged wall and replace hardwood on the hallway. Then I scratched the side of the van. On a separate incident, I broke the side-view mirror. Our video camera died, haven’t captured any video of kids for a while. Just when I was about to buy a camcorder, the washing machine died again (I replaced the first dead washing machine with another old one). Oh and my wifi router died (third one), so I am stuck blogging this plugged into the wall … how 1999!
Meanwhile thanks to Ayaan, the hardwood looks like it’s 100 years old. Leather couch and coffee table look antique. I haven’t had a goodnight sleep for a while. Heck I haven’t really done much in terms of personal entertainment for sometime (“much” is the keyword). By the end of the day the mind is just so tired that there is no will to do anything. We went paddle-boating yesterday and spent half the time fighting with Ayaan so he wouldn’t jump in the water.
Time may be right to join a gym. But I can’t find anyone that doesn’t require a 12-month contract. And I don’t want to sign a contract. First, however, I need to get over the obsessive compulsion to stay current with all electronic communication. I fear turning into this :-
On the plus side I actually am getting some reading done. So that’s good, I guess. Right?
Look at the solid clump of concrete. What if I told you it was mostly empty space? That it was not solid matter clumped together, but rather held mostly by a force field? Science fiction?
If nucleus of an atom were the size of a marble, then the electron would be size of the thickness of a human hair. That's not the cool part. The cool part is that the electron would be 4 kms away from the nucleus at that scale. You heard it, 4 kms, about 2 miles! So an atom is mostly empty space. That solid clump of metal aint that solid afterall!
I am a huge fan of DIY projects. I believe people should service their cars themselves, do their own taxes and maintain their homes themselves. If a project goes South then I'd rather come out more informed. It's not like contractors never screw up.
I built fenced my backyard in Seattle myself. I wish I could say the quality was good, or even okay. The person who bought my house probably curses me for it :). That said, I learned three important lessons that improved all my future projects :-
1. Acquire right tools: For the Seattle fence I should've bought or rented proper tools. Instead I used whatever I had available, which was very little. As a result things did not fit properly, weren't balanced etc. etc. I will never start a major project without first acquiring all tools necessary to do the project and learning how to use them all.
2. Take your time, plan well: This is another typical DIY mistake. Often DIY projects mean you learn as you go. You must allow yourself that learning time. There's nothing wrong with pausing or even going back to fix something. It would have been wiser for me to walk through the project in my head first, listing all potential issues and mitigating them through planning before I started.
3. Recognize when you need help: I did the entire project on my own. Holding posts balanced without any help can be tricky. This is a two-part lesson :-
3a. Recognize when you need a helper. People may have installed drywalls by themselves, but it sure as heck helps to have a helper holding the other end.
3b. Recognize when you're in over your head. Even when you do a project by yourself, there might be aspects where it is better to hire someone.
I did learn my lessons and after that all my projects went amazingly well because of these. In Seattle when I had to enlarge the driveway I knew not to attempt it myself.
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So I decided to build an antenna to catch free high-definition channels. Who wants to pay the cable companies, right? Right!
I had two goals :- It should be easy enough that building should take less than 30 minutes. While I didn't completely meet the time limit, the product was very easy to put together and, well, the construction was intentionally flimsy.
Second, I wanted it to be cheap. I probably spent < $20 for parts. Not a bad deal. What I built is called the Single-Bay-Gray-Hoverman HDTV UHF Antenna. Mouthful, I know. So lets just call it SBGH. There is a double-bay version that presumably works better. You can use better construction material and be more careful about the instructions and get better reception. The instructions are here: http://www.jedsoft.org/fun/antennas/dtv/gh.html. Look at the GH-10 version (scroll down). It will give you the gaps and dimensions to use.
I used a 1x3 to support my antenna (its "spine").
First, I marked a line down the centre and then marked where different reflector rods were going to go. For reflector rods I simply got cheap iron hangers and straightened them (and then cut them to sizes using plyers. You can use a tin nip or some other tool).
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The main antenna is in zig-zag shape (again, see this URL for the diagram: http://www.jedsoft.org/fun/antennas/dtv/gh.html). For that I bought a 10 guage copper wire from the home depot. This is what it looks like :-
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So I took one strand out, straightened it by hand and put it in shape, as described by the URL (http://www.jedsoft.org/fun/antennas/dtv/gh.html).
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This is the picture of the copper wire, before I took one piece out. You should probably get one with more thickness for better performance, but this worked just fine for me.
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