Jenyfer Matthews

I’ve gotten up early the last few mornings to wrap presents before the children wake up because I can’t seem to outlast them at night anymore!

I used to enjoy wrapping presents. I remember asking my mom to let me wrap her presents for her, which she was only too happy to let me do. It was fun to choose complementary paper and bows. It was something of an artistic process for me, creating a beautiful package, though I was never very good at tying pretty bows – I relied more on stick-on bows or curly ribbon or a combination of both.

So why is it that wrapping presents now is such a chore? One problem is perhaps the lack of inspiring wrapping paper. My mother had a huge selection as she bought a few new rolls every year. Nice quality wrapping paper is hard to get in Cairo and the few nice rolls I bought from a friend (who imported it from England) is fast dwindling. It doesn’t help that my son, in his early Christmas enthusiasm, got into my supply and used way more than was necessary to wrap his sister’s present and cut it badly besides. Sigh.

I do have pretty ribbon and tags, thanks to a friend in America who shipped them to me via a friend of hers at the US Embassy, but I’m still not much good at tying bows. Did you know that you could split wider flat ribbon and curl it with scissors? Maybe you already did, but I just learned that trick and used it to my advantage this morning.

I could of course just use gift bags; however, while convenient, bags are just not as tactile or fun. Children like to rip paper. Also, bags are hard to pile under the tree. A tree with only bags standing in groups under it just looks…odd.

I ran out of boxes to wrap just about the same time I ran out of patience and tape. I still have a few more things to wrap but those items will go in bags…

I LOVE this song. I will never hear Roxanne by The Police again and not think of Rudolph.

I am not sure what I was thinking, but I finally did my present inventory over the weekend and found that I was woefully unprepared for the big day! I fooled myself into thinking I was ahead of the game by having bought each child their WOW gift and a few of the harder to get items in the US this summer. That might have still worked out okay, except that three different sets of relatives prefer to deposit money in our bank account and let me do the shopping, which is safer than mailing things. It’s not as if this is a new system so I am not sure why I blanked on that aspect of things so completely this year.

Then I “lost” a week in Germany. I did get my husband’s presents while I was away, and a couple of things for my daughter, but did not find anything that inspiring for my son. As luck would have it, the children were invited on a play date yesterday afternoon so after dropping them off, I headed straight to the mall!

It’s always a toss of the dice here in Cairo as to whether you’ll find anything worth having or whether the items you want will be in the size you are looking for, but usually if you are willing to pay enough you can find something to buy.

This is the only time of year I will just close my eyes and pay whatever shops are asking to get the job done. Really, what choice do I have? $60 for a sweatshirt? Okay. $50 for a child’s sport watch? Done – next. The beauty of this system is that 1) I’m mostly spending money from the family so it doesn’t “hurt” my thrifty bone so much and 2) since I spend all year saying “NO” to the children, they usually don’t realize that I am the one who has actually purchased all these previously denied items!

At least this time I am truly finished! Now, to find a quiet hour (or two!) to wrap things up!

I saw this car on the morning after Halloween, when I was walking around looking for egg damage. The car itself is nothing special – there are old cars like this all over Cairo. It was the sticker in the back window that drew my attention:

(click to enlarge image)

Really? I’m thinking that if the owner of this car truly has a “need 4 speed” the first thing they need is a car made in this decade!

It’s week two of our new maid and I’m still not sure that I’m totally enthusiastic about this idea.

She only comes once a week, all day on Monday. My biggest hurdle so far is to figure out how to let her go about her business and still use the time productively in other ways. Last week I was in the kitchen nearly the whole time, cooking and baking for my son’s birthday. This week? So far I’m just lurking.

While it’s nice to have someone else do the heavy cleaning, it’s also hard to let go. She doesn’t do things the way I would do things. I’m reminding myself there is a settling in period and to give it some time because it’s nice to have someone else do the heavy cleaning. And it’s only once a week.

One benefit to having a maid come in is the sudden inspiration (shame) to clean up the trouble spots in my home that have been ignored basically since we moved in. For example, the pile of miscellaneous papers, sunglasses, and phone chargers that have accumulated on the counter near the microwave and the drips that have run down the front of my white cabinets. I mean, I wouldn’t want her to think I was a total slob.

Last week, she attempted to tidy my work desk. I didn’t think to tell her not to bother because I assumed that the sheer magnitude of the mess there would keep her away. She’s a professional though and she gave it a shot. I was so embarrassed that I finally got off my behind and did it myself this week. I finally took the bags of clothing destined for the consignment shop over to the shop and sent two other bags of clothes to the charity shop. I sorted through a pile of papers, magazines, and books (most of which was trash) and once I could see it, I washed the desk surface so I could put out my cutting boards.

Best yet, I finally (finally!) made my way through a pile of mending. There were items that had been waiting around for more than a year, many of which I decided I didn’t really need and either donated or tossed in the rag pile. I sewed on buttons and mended ripped seams and darned worn spots. I even dyed two pairs of pants for my son. I couldn’t resist buying them when I spotted them at the thrift store for $0.50 but they were stone colored twill, not an active boy’s best color. Think instant stains. So I bought two packages of RIT dye and dyed one pair dark brown and the other forest green – the colors of dirt and grass, as my husband pointed out.

The desk actually looks like a desk now and not just a pile of trash. I might actually be able to do some quilting there soon. And I really want to try. I seem to have lost my way creatively in all aspects. It’s time to start playing again.

Are you as tired of hearing about birthday celebrations as I am of organizing them? Today marks the end of my birthday efforts for the year. That’s it – I’m done. Obviously there are other family birthdays between now and next July, but I’m not the one in charge of organizing the celebration, the food, the gifts, or the fun for the other ones, thank goodness.

It’s exhausting. In addition to my son’s sleepover party this weekend, he attended two other parties and there are already two more invitations for the upcoming weekend.

One of the nice things about living abroad is that family and friends are a little more willing to share their signature special recipes with you because more likely than not you won’t be attending many (if any) of the same social functions. My step-mother was nice enough to share her awesome fruit pizza recipe with me, which was a huge hit with the children this summer, so that I could make it for my son’s birthday. He always asks for a “cake with fruit on top” and I think this is going to be a success, unlike the pineapple upside down cake I made last year (which we all enjoyed but my son would not even try!)

It doesn’t hurt a thing that it is also my new recipe for October either. (Yes, still on track with my New Year’s Resolution).

This pizza has a shortbread crust, cream cheese frosting topped with the fruit of your choice. It is especially pretty with strawberries on top, but since those aren’t in season yet, I went with pomegranate seeds for that extra pop of color. It would have been prettier in a round pan, but my only round pizza pan has holes in the bottom!

The little man also requested our Thanksgiving menu for his birthday dinner, mostly because he wanted cranberry sauce (are you sensing a theme of tart fruit here?) I am indulging him by making an abbreviated version of the meal today, but I hope that means we can order pizza or Chinese on Thanksgiving proper!

I am planning on spending the rest of my time this week getting back into my newest story – it was really moving til I hit the month of non-stop birthday parties.

It was touch and go for a while, but I survived the boy sleepover!

The came, they swam, they played tag, they ate, they laughed and giggled. And that was before we even got back to our house for the cake and movie!

The tent was a huge hit with the boys (patting myself on the back). Instead of a campfire and smores, they had twisted puff Cheetos and a movie, but I didn’t hear any complaints. I turned off the lights at about 10pm and if they made any noise after 11pm I didn’t hear them – I was exhausted!

Just like birds, they were up with the sun. It was an earlier start than I generally like on a weekend morning, but at least I’m off the hook for hosting birthday parties for another year…

My weekend will be spent keeping the children moving in different directions and tired enough that when they are in one place, they’ll be too tired to fight.

Hope you have a great weekend!

This weekend kicks off soccer season – our first game(s) are Saturday morning. My husband volunteered me to organize snacks for my son’s first game, which I suppose is only fair since I volunteered him to be the assistant coach!

Since this is my fourth soccer season, you’d think I wouldn’t stress myself out about what to bring. Nope. I still worry myself over which way to go – healthy snacks that parents will approve of, or sugary snacks that will be popular with the kids. The only improvement this time around is that I didn’t worry about it for as long. I got two varieties of granola bars (sugar with a bit of fiber thrown in), oranges to be cut into wedges, and drink boxes. I refuse to bake because I can’t stand to see a child take a bite of something I’ve taken the time to make and then throw it away. I take it much less personally if they reject my granola bars and oranges.

The worry that I used to waste on soccer snacks has however bled into my children’s school lunches. Their school does not have a cafeteria, everyone has to bring their lunch. Generally speaking, I like that situation because at least I can send them something worthwhile. It does present some challenges on a practical level though because my son has two snack periods and my daughter, who has a longer day, has three. They are both very good eaters so I end up having to pack what amounts to a picnic for each child each and every school day.

Believe it or not, I’m not always at my best at 6am when I have to pack these lunches and I’ve gotten into a rut with packing the same cheese / PB&J sandwiches, a piece of fruit / sliced veggies, and a muffin / granola bar / cookie every day. Even children, who tend to like to eat the same things all the time, get tired of things after a couple of years of the same old things. So I’ve been trying to mix it up a bit.

I bought some small cheese pizzas from a local bakery to take the place of a sandwich, and also bought some “fancy” sandwich rolls. The cheese might be the same, but a change of bread shape adds a little pizazz, as does a slice of tomato. Last week I got some croissants and sent them to school stuffed with smoked salmon. Hummus topped with pomegranate seeds was a hit and I’m planning to make a pasta salad this week for a change of pace. Once a week or so I give them a real thrill and toss in a bag of chips or a candy bar.

It’s only the first month of school though. We’ll see how long I can keep this up.

Overall, I don’t think they have anything to complain about. I was lucky to get cheese and crackers and maybe a Little Debbie snack cake. My son prefers spreadable goat cheese with jam. How long before he starts demanding a small carafe of wine instead of his usual juice box?

My son went on a play date over the weekend, during which the hosting parent decided to direct some charitable activities. It’s Ramadan, a month-long Muslim holiday during which they fast in daylight hours, and this parent decided to put together some bags of groceries to distribute to poor families.

My son came home with three bags of groceries to assemble his give-away bags. Each bag ended up having 500g dry lentils, 500g red lentils, a bag of pasta, a 1kg bag of sugar, a package of dried apricot sheets, a 1kg bag of rice, and a small pack of biscuits. We assembled the two bags and my son was very excited about the idea of finding someone to give them to.

There is no shame in begging in Islam. In fact, from my limited understanding of things, it’s part of a Muslim’s religious duty to care for those less fortunate. Part of the reason for fasting during Ramadan is so that they can experience the deprivation that poor people suffer on a daily basis.

There is always a catch of course, this one being strictly cultural. One is that being on foot, I don’t often give money to beggars unless I can make a speedy getaway. I’ve been in situations where you give some money to one person and suddenly ten more come out of the woodwork. A friend of mine said she gave some money to a woman with a baby one day and found herself being followed home by a small posse of beggars. There are so many poor people in Egypt, you could stand on the street corner and give out money steadily until you yourself were impoverished and still there would be more people with their hands out.

The other thing is that I myself feel very awkward about going up to people on the street and offering them charity. I don’t want to make any faulty assumptions about a person’s income level or offend anyone’s pride. I would prefer for someone to approach me, thereby removing all doubt. However, I live in a rather affluent suburb of Cairo so there aren’t so very many beggars on the street here anyway. I know of a couple of families who live in tumble-down shacks on vacant lots, but again I feel strange going up to their door and offering them charity they may or may not want.

I also wonder about how best to include my son in this activity, or whether to include him at all. Surely, it’s not a bad thing for him to know that not everyone is as fortunate in their circumstances as he is and to teach him compassion, but how does including him in the equation change things? Would people be more willing to accept an offering from a well intentioned (and adorable) little boy? Or might they think that I’m using them as some sort of object lesson? I don’t want to humiliate anyone in the process.

It is, of course, entirely possible that I think too much.

Still, I have these two bags to give away so I took one bag with me on Saturday, to look for a likely candidate while we walked to our club to take our children to their tennis lessons (just the contrast in those two very different activities makes me squirm) The bag was ridiculously heavy and of course I did not see anyone who might have really needed such a bag. I did not want to carry it home again so a friend and I took it to a family who lives around the corner from our club, in a vacant lot. They were extremely gracious and seemed pleased enough to have it. I was extremely pleased not to have to carry it home. Win win.

I took the other bag with me when I went out to grocery shop the next morning. Lately there have been a least a couple of ladies who have been begging on my route to the shops, and failing that I figured I would be able to find a street sweeper. Where are the all beggars when you need them? There was no one out either going to or returning from the store. I’d leave it outside a poor family’s house if I didn’t worry that they would be suspicious of who left it there and reject it for that reason. I ended up carrying the damn bag home again where I weighed it (once I got the strength back in my arm). It weighs nine pounds. I feel like I’m doing my own sort of Ramadan penance, just carrying the thing around.

I’ll give it a couple more tries. Surely I can find someone, somewhere who would appreciate it before Ramadan ends…