Why My Hair Dont Grow No More

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).