Why My Hair Dont Grow No More

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 :(