Jenyfer Matthews

I spent the weekend flat on my back in bed, alternatively reading and napping. Doesn’t sound so bad til you add in the fever and muscle aches. At first I thought I must have some mild flu, but four days later – and in the total absence of respiratory symptoms – I finally decided to go to the doctor. He seems to think that I ate something bad / tainted. That fits since I worked at the library on Thursday last week – they provided lunch AND that’s the evening symptoms started. It is Egypt after all. I should really know better by now.

I have medicine now. Here’s hoping that I can sneeze without excruciating muscular chest pain in a short while.

When I got tired of reading in bed, I dragged myself to the couch to convalesce on the couch while watching TV – BBC Lifestyle to be exact. It’s amazing to think about the sort of window into a place you get from only watching TV. If I didn’t know better, I might get the idea that the Brits have houses stuffed with priceless but unrecognized antiques (Antiques Road Show, Cash in the Attic), a taste for fine food (countless celebrity chef shows), and are all itching to buy a house / start a business in Spain (Living in the Sun). Where are the fish and chips? The soccer hooligans?

On the flip side, with TV as the view, it’s no wonder that Brits have the idea that all Americans either have a NY or Texan accent. (My own accent is so nondescript middle-America that I could be a news anchor. I’ve had Americans as me if I’m British!) The Brits who travel have already gotten over the idea that real, every day Americans are all tall, willowy, and blond.

I’m going to continue to lay low the rest of the week and hope that I can enjoy NEXT weekend a bit more. What will be my excuse for watching BBC Lifestyle all day then?

I remember when I was small, The Wizard of Oz came on network TV every year. It didn’t matter that I’d seen it before, I watched it faithfully every time. I loved Glenda the Good Witch (I really wanted a dress like hers), knew the songs by heart, and feared the flying monkeys.

But it wasn’t until I moved abroad that I became fully conscious of how many quotes from the movie had made their way into everyday American colloquial language and it was a shock to realize that while The Wizard of Oz is very much an American classic, it is largely unknown in the greater world. I suppose it makes sense that other countries would have their own classics and pop culture icons, but given how many references I can think of from the movie, it still seems odd that it’s so very local to America:

I’ll get you my pretty…and your little dog too!

Toto, I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.

Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

There’s no place like home.

I bought the movie for my children but waited a long time before I let them watch it – I didn’t want those flying monkeys to freak them out. Having watched it as an adult I found the monkeys and the scene where Dorothy melts the Wicked Witch of the West a bit anticlimactic. It’s nice to watch the children’s reactions though – they haven’t yet been spoiled by modern cinematic effects.

And the monkeys still freak them out as much as ever.

My son is only seven, in grade two in the British system. Every year since he’s started school his teachers have expressed concern about his handwriting and his ability to “express his thoughts” in writing. When I tried once to respond to this concern by saying I thought it was quite common for little boys to have poor handwriting and that we were practicing writing his name at home, his teacher at the time gave me a serious look and said “you did give him a really long name.” As if handwriting should have been on my mind when I chose his name!

Of course, things have only progressed as he’s moved up through the grades. His handwriting hasn’t improved much, nor has his spelling, and asking him to sit down and write a couple of sentences for homework is pure torture – for both of us. This week’s assignment: Imagine a new planet where (pick a scenario) time runs backward, there is no day or night, people are tiny, etc and then explain how life is from when you wake up in the morning to when you go to sleep at night. What things are easier? What things are more difficult?

I know adults who would have trouble coming up with a decent response to such an assignment let alone a seven year old boy who’d rather be doing just about anything else but sitting still and writing an essay after a long day spent at school sitting still and doing work.

What makes it all worse is that I know my son could do it if he wanted to. He has the fine motor skills to trace detailed pictures and to color elaborate illustrations inside the lines. There are even times when he will sit down with a notebook and write himself a story out of his head, complete with illustrations. What’s the difference? Motivation. He wants to do his thing, not theirs. I get that – I can’t write someone else’s story ideas either. I, however, was always a good student and did my assignments well to please my teacher if nothing else. Hard to know how to instill that desire in my own children.

Every year I tell myself that I’ll work with the children during the summer to improve the subject they are having the most difficulty with: math for my daughter and writing for my son. Then by the end of the school year I’m so tired and fed up with fighting with them both to get through the required school work that I let it slide… for the whole summer. When will *I* learn?

As we come up to the last month of school and the end of the year, I’m dreading the next parent teacher conference where I’ll have to sit and nod while the teachers tell me about my son’s failure to perform up to their (in my opinion, ridiculous) standards in writing and how my daughter knows the math but doesn’t test well. Blah blah blah. Both of these things are well documented already. Surprise me and tell me something new, please.

Five weeks of school left and counting…

My daughter’s tenth birthday is in mid-July but we had her party on Friday so she could have it with her friends before school ends. All in all it seemed to be a success.

I was fairly stressed out during the planning however. I know it sounds stupid – it’s just a child’s party after all. You’d have to have seen some of the parties I’ve seen here to understand.

Many of the families at the school my children attend work in the oil industry – a more lucrative career choice than academics. In my time here I’ve seen parties where the parents take the entire class bowling and out for lunch at Chilis. Parties where the parents rent space and hire bouncy castles and/or bungee jumping trampolines. In addition they might also hire clowns, magicians, DJs, bubble machines, popcorn carts, cotton candy machines, and face painters. There are party planners you can call and get complete packages – pay them enough and they’ll even manage the games for you. One party we attended was catered by a rather swish Indian restaurant.

Then there’s me with the at-home do-it-yourself party.

I truly do believe that simple is better and that while the children find all of the above options fun, they aren’t really necessary. Ever see a kid play with a stick? Or a rock? I apply the same concept to the birthday party, though I admit I do worry about the consequences of my choices. No one wants their child to be embarrassed by their parents. On the other hand, how do you continue to top yourself from year to year when you set the bar so high, so young?

My daughter and I decided on a dance party and invited fourteen girls. I compiled two disks of music from our CDs and iTunes, cleared the living room of furniture, picked up the carpets, and borrowed a multi-colored dance globe. I littered the floor with balloons and hooked the video camera up to the TV so they could watch themselves dance. I hung a small disco ball over the food table and a ran strand of twinkling white lights on the side board near the stereo.

Since I didn’t rent a dance hall or hire a DJ, I decided to wow them with hard-to-find American junk food: mini bagel pizzas, popcorn, puffed twisted Cheetos, four flavors of Kool-Aid, and watermelon and instead of cake I planned to serve build-your-own ice cream sundaes complete with choices of M&Ms, Oreos, sprinkles, chocolate or strawberry sauce, whipped cream, and maraschino cherries. I figured if I supplied enough sugar, they would supply the fun

In spite of the fact that everything was coming together nicely, the night before the party I woke in the early hours of the morning from a vivid dream that the party was over but that I’d forgotten to serve the ice cream sundaes!!

We ended up having nearly 100% attendance – only one girl couldn’t make it. Picture it: fourteen little girls dancing and playing in my living room sticking balloons to their heads with static electricity. They even initiated and ran a game of musical statues on their own. My main function was to serve food and stay out of the way. My daughter really didn’t want me to join in the dancing, though I admit to bopping around the kitchen a bit.

I did not forgot the ice cream – believe me, I was very focused on that – but I did forget to carve and serve the watermelon!

The only thing that would have been better would have been if I’d had the party at night to maximize the effect of the dance light, but since we have floor to ceiling windows covered only by sheers and it doesn’t get dark now until nearly 8pm that wasn’t really an option – at least not until she turns sixteen!

The dance light and the music brought back fond memories of my own birthday parties at the local roller rink. When I told my daughter about it, she thought it sounded really great and it’s sad to think that roller rinks don’t seem to exist anymore. Whatever happened to them, do you think? Out of fashion? Too big a space to rent? Too much liability insurance required against injuries? How many of you remember doing the Hokey-Pokey on rollerskates?

My husband received The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini as a gift from his cousin several years ago. He never read it and had put it in a pile to bring to the used book store a couple of times, but I always stopped him saying that I would like to read it…someday.

Someday came last weekend when we went to the beach for the weekend. Not your classic beach read, I know, but then I’ve always been a bit contrary.

For instance, though it sounded interesting, I didn’t read The Kite Runner for ages precisely because so many people loved it so much. I am always skeptical about movies / books that get such rave reviews because even though something might be every bit as good as people say, once my expectations are raised, I’m inevitably disappointed. Too much hype isn’t always a good thing.

I’m glad to that I finally picked up The Kite Runner though. The first several pages of my paperback edition are filled with glowing reviews more thoughtfully written than anything I have the mental energy to come up with. Instead I’ll write a few of my gut reactions.

I was pleasantly surprised by the writing style; I’d been expecting a more challenging, obscure literary style and instead found very straight-forward and entertaining storytelling. I also found it engaging on a cultural level – though I’ve never visited Afghanistan, much of what was described in the book was similar to the culture of the Middle East, where I have lived for a decade. I don’t want to give anything away in case there is actually someone out there who hasn’t read the book yet, but it’s a wonderful human story about weakness, mistakes, regret, and redemption.

I read the book in two days and even convinced my husband that he ought to finally read it.

No reading in my immediate future – today I’m hosting an early birthday party for my daughter and having twelve 9-10 year old girls over to spend the afternoon dancing in my living room. It’s going to be a long afternoon!

I had planned to write a thoughtful book review of The Kite Runner for today, but what with birthday party planning, manic quilting, and the usual daily chores it didn’t happen. I thought I might even be able to write it up this morning but not only didn’t I have any coherent thoughts in my head, other things got in the way.

6am – 7:30am: Get up, get the children up and ready for school
8am: Remember NOT to eat breakfast or have my morning tea because of a physical with blood work at 2pm
9am: Tennis lesson
10am: Buy birthday present for party my daughter is attending Thursday after school
11am: One hour commute to campus (where physical will take place)
12noon: Arrive campus, finally get my campus ID
2pm: Physical
3pm: SNACK
4pm: Commute one hour home
5pm: Homework, dinner
6:30pm: Yoga class (think I’ll actually make it???)

The plans for the dance party are coming together well – I have most of the food, a play list for the dancing, and a disco ball. Not making a cake – we’re doing build-your-own-sundaes. I’m supplying the space, the music, and the sugar. The children will have to supply the fun!

We had a beach holiday that was actually spent at the beach and was wonderfully relaxing as well. It’s amazing what only a couple of days away can do for your mood.

(Click image to enlarge)

We’ve been to this hotel before so I knew pretty much knew what to expect. We arrived mid-afternoon the first day so we grabbed a couple of sun beds near the back of the beach under the shade of a thatched hut and commenced relaxing. I entertained myself with my nifty camera and it’s super-cool zoom.

I didn’t remember there being so many Egyptians there last time, or at least not in Islamic bathing suits. Made me wonder if they were Egyptian or from Saudi Arabia?

It was hot in the sun. Hot enough that I finally took my first swim in the Red Sea (the water was lovely). Even the birds were hot.

But I can’t quite see the point in this. It’s one thing to be modest and cover, but is that really any fun to wear once it’s wet and clinging to you?

The water at this beach is much shallower and calmer than the beach in Dahab where my son and I were last month. However, the bottom is sandier and there isn’t much to see either. Didn’t stop him from finally going snorkeling!

His proudest find was a dead sting ray, which he gave a decent burial after showing it off to anyone who would look. He was also quite pleased with this crab.

I also finished The Kite Runner over the weekend. More on that later. Right now I have to take a disco ball to the repair shop in preparation for my daughter’s girl-dance party this Friday. A mother’s work is never done…

For those of you who visit the blog directly, bypassing the main home page, you might not have seen my new cover. Isn’t it pretty?

It’s been a long time coming. The manuscript has actually been done for a while now, looking for a home. I sent queries to agents, and when that didn’t work out, I went directly to the few publishers out there who will look at unsolicited, un-agented manuscripts. It’s difficult enough to break into the traditional publishing work but with the current economy, publishers and agents are even more conservative than usual about what projects they take on.

As you can see here, not every great book finds its home right away. And since there are even fewer publishers and bookstores now than there were when many of these classic / popular books were published, it’s harder yet today. So I decided that I could accept these obstacles to sharing my story with the world and put it in a metaphorical drawer or I could have faith in myself and choose another path.

My plan is to release Separation Anxiety myself by the end of June. I’ll start digitally and then see if I can find a good option for a print-on-demand service for those who prefer a print copy. One step at a time.

For those who are skeptical of self-publishing, assuming that it’s only an avenue for talentless losers who can’t hack it in the real publishing world, I invite you to write your own book and try to get it published. It’s not as easy as you think and talent doesn’t always find a home. The world is a different place and things change. Sure, there are probably plenty of crappy self-published books – I’m sure there’s at least one for every crappy book that is released from a big NY publisher. Taste is subjective. Keep an open mind.

As for me, I’m headed to the beach. For this bus trip I’m taking The Kite Runner, another long timer on my TBR list. This trip isn’t as long, but I’m hoping it’s long enough to get me hooked…

I haven’t been in a great mood this week. Not sure what is up exactly – at least some of it is hormones and some of it is the hot weather. The rest? I think it boils down to time.

For me, there is always a balance between finding time to get all that needs to be done accomplished and finding time for me. If I am too busy, I get stressed out. If I don’t have enough to do, I get antsy and find myself merely killing time rather than enjoying the moment which is depressing. I like to feel productive, BUT if I have too many things that are in service to other people, I start to feel resentful. If I let too many things slide in order to make more “me-time” then I feel guilty.

But wait! There’s more.

If I have to spend too much time out and about socializing, I start to feel frazzled. But if I spend too much time alone, I feel flat.

Obviously, it’s a fairly delicate balancing act on a good day – throw some hormones in there and a couple of smart-mouthed children and I guess I have the answer to why this week has been less than satisfying for me so far.

Good thing I’m going to beach on Friday…

I never participated in sports as a kid. First because the Catholic school I attended until eight grade didn’t even have PE class. Later, I was much too self-conscious to admit that I didn’t know how to play various games which was necessary before I could actually learn to play anything.

What it boils down to is that if I can’t be sure I’ll do something well, I just won’t do it at all. Instead of sports, I concentrated on my school work and was on the honor roll rather than a team.

Never in my wildest imagination did I ever expect to have two such sports-gifted children. They are amazing to watch. And after two years of watching them play tennis and making it look easy, I was sucked in to my own lessons at the suggestion of a friend.

I really ought to have known better.

It’s not that I’m bad at it. I’m okay for a beginner, even if it isn’t as easy as the children make it look. It’s that I let myself get intensely competitive about the whole thing. I want to be the best. Except why does it matter? It’s not as if I’m ever going to be a champion tennis player at my age. I’m an adult and supposed to be more mature than that, so why can’t I just relax and have fun with it instead of channeling my inner McEnroe?

The experience has given me new insight into my children’s mentality with their own tennis lessons, and not always in a good or comfortable way. Funny to think that I was on the right track as a young person by just avoiding the whole thing…