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). 

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.