A Midnight Mocha

A late night hot dark chocolate added to an earthy South African coffee with extra foam, listening to the sound of waves crashing on the beach.

It feels safe and serene; kids tucked in their beds in the rooms not far from the porch. He is not too far either, just fast asleep drifting in his lala land.  His skin is hot and smooth covering his manly limbs.

She doesn't mind staying up the whole night, watching the midnight sky, listening to the ocean, and writing in her notebook.

Once upon a time there was a girl who wanted to travel far and explore wide. She started from Barcelona.

Notes from A Woman with A Bump: Loving the Emptied Bump

I just realized how hard I was to and how thankful I am for this empty bump. And I owe it to Grace.

I attended a Yoga for Moms class the other night. I invited my mother to go with me.  After a long time I got to leave home sans bebe for two full hours and frankly, it was a blessing by itself.  I missed my babies dearly by the time I was driving back home while I left anxiously yet happily the second my car was off the driveway.

I hadn't practiced yoga for a good 9 weeks.  The last time I went to a prenatal yoga class I was so big I couldn't see my toes and my chest didn't have much room to breathe.  It was good to be allowed to do some moves laying on my belly after a long while.

It was particularly great that everyone there were moms: tired, worried, grateful, overwhelmed, open, and needing the company of others, and needing to focus on their body for an hour or so.

It was a blessing to have Grace as our instructor. It was the first time I met her but I could tell she was a genuinely graceful person from the way she welcomed me and my mother to her class.  She was considerate and focused.  It was indeed a nice yoga practice through her guidance.

Then something unexpected happened: during the savasana, the end meditation session, she asked all to put one hand on their heart and one on their belly and feel the breath laying down on their back. So far the routin. Then after a few moments she asked the moms who recently had given birth to put both hands on their belly and give thanks to the empty space housing our babies for 9 months. She brought our attention to this void, noted how we carried our babies in this space the same way our mothers carried us and how their mothers carried them. How this lineage went back in time.

Feeling the empty bump, I found tears coming down my cheeks; I felt like really crying. I was oblivious to this seemingly obvious fact let alone being thankful for it.

Now, I am thankful to this emptied bump!

Namaste!

All She Left

She ordered a cup of coffee and sat down.  It was a calm afternoon.  No calls, no texts, no posts.  She didn't check her emails all day.
The coffee was bitter, exactly how she liked it.  She added just a couple drops of milk and stirred, watching the dark brown turning into milky brown swirls of coffee and milk.

She was looking forward to her afternoon drink at the local cafe, yearning the smell of coffee most of the day that day.  Now she earned it; waiting.
Soaking in the aroma, she sipped her drink savoring the taste.  It was a dense drink.  Full of colors even though looking like just a bland cup of coffee to the naked eyes.
She closed her eyes briefly taking a deep breath.  Then, she opened her smart phone and paused a few moments.  There was a forbidden world out there.  The forbidden heart.  Back to reality.  She locked it again.
She got up and walked out the door, leaving the finished cup of coffee and all that was left on the table.

Mothering Two - And the Reality Hits

I am the mother of two.

I suddenly feel very grounded.  Tethered even?

Interestingly M has a similar feeling.

In fact it hit me the other day, watching M holding the little angle in his arms and cajoling with A on a matter. Arms full. Mouth full of words. Attention too focused.  It was intense to watch.

I suddenly find hardly any time for me, any time for the house, any time to think or concern about others I so dearly care for.  Any time to read.

It took me forty some days to get to this conclusion. May be it was not as intense earlier. May be I was most focused on one thing: the little angel, and not A as much, let alone the house and other matters. But now, with the new school year approaching, all the programming for his extra curricular activities and shopping for school and wondering about his new teacher and classmates suddenly hit hard, in addition to all things baby and the untidy house and missed calls.

For any simple outing I have to pack two bags now and I have to remember everything yet I will forget something.  The last thing I think about is me.

Knowing me, it will become a routine soon, I have no doubt, to pack two bags and not forget anything I mean. Yet, I wonder if I will ever be able to think about me again, all my dreams, all the new and old  places I like to visit, all the people I wish to be with.

Frankly, I can't think about it too hard right now. I better get ready for this Saturday's outing while the little one is taking a nap lest I will miss the short window of opportunity.  As Scarlet O'Hara would say, I will think about it tomorrow (so unlike me)...

The Employee Appreciation Unified

Today we got invited to M's employees and families appreciation BBQ party.

His company, a high-tech company in the silicon valley, does this every year. Inviting the immediate family of the employees to enjoy an afternoon of foods and fun for kids with clowns and water slides and face paintings and balloons and all.  This year was the first time that I got to attend with M, thanks to maternity leave.  Soon after my arrival I saw one of his colleagues who was happy to have seen their CEO. He described how when he was in the line of food he saw him at the booth serving the employees. He said he didn't recognize him at first but soon he did. Also, he said he was happy to see him conducting such service.

It appeared like a "trend" to me; the executive managers serving the employees I mean.  The reason why is because our company does the similar thing.

In our company, a medical device company, a few times a year we have employee appreciation BBQ, albeit to a way lesser degree but may be more frequently. After conquering major milestones, our company throws an employee BBQ in which, as of late, the executive management serves the employees for the first half an hour or so.  The recency of such conduct makes me think this is a new trend of the business.

Another interesting observation is how our divisional president is so available and so accessible that no one would exclaim to get to meet him. But of course our division is a fraction of the mother company. May be to compare with the evidence experienced by M's colleague today we must have our CEO serving the troop. Still, I'm glad for the leanness of our division and grateful for the presence of our president.

Walking the Past

She knew she had to leave.

It hurt to stay. It hurt to watch the unfolding of every moment. Every second was inspired by what went. To stay was to relive it every day.

She started walking away. Hoping for a fresh start somewhere, anywhere but not here.

But anywhere she looked was a reminder. A sweet reminder with bitter thoughts. It was hopeless.

She took a deep breath with her eyes closed. Made a few prayers pleading for a clean start accepting the past. Even cherishing it. And walked into the future.

The Few Month Itch

I need to travel.  The last time I was away was in April.  I miss it.
The the joy and anxiety in packing a suitcase, the hustle and bustle of the airport, the possibility of having a drink in an unknown locale, the thrill in driving a new road, the anxiety of sleeping in a strange room, the oddness of finding a spectacular bargain in a most unexpected place, the excitement in trying new dishes, the newness, the expectation in meeting old friends reciting in yet another foreign place, the strolls in exotic promenades.  I miss it.
At to my dear amusement so does my little A.  He said the other day that he was yearning to fly in an airplane again.  Then, the other night, when I told him about our upcoming trip next week, he shouted "finally!  SFO again".  And then was profoundly sad when I told him it was going to be a car trip not more than 5 hours away.
I was pondering again how my main motif to work, first and foremost, is the ability to travel and to vacation with family.  I would be delighted to find my little angle is also one day yearning for travel as much as A does and as much as I do.

A and I en route to Edmonton, AB - June 2012

A in cockpit

Note from A Woman With A Bump: The Remaining Bump

I have been thinking, wondering how my body looked and felt before I got pregnant for the first time.  I do not remember much.  What I do remember is how I was critical toward it, not much appreciative or pleased with it, not much enjoying it.  Now that body is gone for ever.
Getting pregnant has taken my body through a tremendous journey of changes.  The most drastic change since puberty for sure.  Looking back, I realize that I did not cherish my body through puberty.  I was not feeling comfortable with the changes; so I just closed my eyes on it. Now I fantasize about the memory of it, yearn it, perhaps even mourn it sometimes.
Then, while still ignorant and critical, suddenly pregnancy happened.
Getting pregnant makes the body femininely beautiful.  The glowing skin, the undoubtedly growing belly that houses a precious new being.  It is mysterious.  The body is the center of attention during pregnancy as soon as it starts to show.  There was absolutely no urge, may be for the first time since puberty, to look thin.  It was surprisingly enjoyable to change clothing to the larger sizes.
Yet, after the delivery and when the body was drained of all the excessive liquids, it was left with an empty, loose, sagging, fat tummy.  An aching body incapable of many of the movements it could endure before pregnancy.  A hunching shoulder under the pressures of nursing.
There was not much I could do about all the changes.  I was taken through the journey.  It feels as if I had lost control over it all.  It seems as if I am left with a useless wardrobe and no desire to spend on new larger size cloths.
Now my body and physical appearance are in the baby's shadow, or so I wish!  An acquaintance of mine who had not seen me for a year or so told me the other day "oh my dear! you look fat!"  I sometimes feel I am struggling.  I cannot afford looking like this for ever.  This lost control insults my willpower.  I am losing weight and little by little getting back to some of my baggier yet tegular cloths; yet it is funny how that growing body was gaining more attention than this thinning body.  There are friends (and celebrities) who claim to have lost the "baby fat" in three weeks!  Boasting their bodies in tight pants and fitting dresses carrying the few months old baby.  It feels as if there exists a subliminal competition match.  All the pressure!

Looking fit is not all trend, indeed it is maintaining a healthy body to allow cajoling with all the responsibilities of motherhood.  I have not resumed my regular exercises so there is hope.  And of course I wont ever trade a hair of either of my kids for a pre-pregnancy body.  But oh!  Do I wonder!

Arash the Archer by Bayzai - The Play Reading at Stanford

The story of Arash the Archer has been rewritten in the modern Persian by Bahram Bayzai about half a century ago.  It was performed at Stanford last night, directed by Bayzai himself for the first time.
The endearing mythology of Arash the Archer is about this hero, Arash, whose heroic act indicated the border of Iran when it was invaded by non Iranians of the time, called Touranians.  At the time, Touranians had taken over a vast land of Iran's, many killed and many lands destroyed.  To end the blood shed it was agreed that the war would end and the land would be depicted by Arash's landing of a single shot of an arrow. Arash hence climbed the Damavand, the tallest mountain in northern Iran, and shot a single arrow that was shot beyond any ordinary man could have shot.  There are different versions of how long the shot arrow was travelling in the air or how far it landed or whether it landed at all.
Bayzai's rendition of the story is written in the form of a screenplay and is somewhat different than the ones written in the ancient Shahnameh or the modern retelling of the story by Sivash Kasrai. In Bayzai's rendition, Arash was a simple man who was not a proper archer; he was betrayed by both Iranians and Aniranians. Yet, he honored the peace pledge, climbed the Damavand, and shot the arrow not by the strength of his elbow, but by the strength of his willpower.  The arrow has never landed and no one has seen him descending from Damavand since.
Bayzai's screenplay was directed by others and was screened a few times already.  However, it was directed by himself for the first time and played last night at Stanford.  It was not a real "play", but a "play reading" in fact. There were only two actors who literally narrated the actual screenplay, and they did a unique and fantastic job in my opinion.
Mojdeh Shamsaei and Mohsen Namjoo "played" the screenplay by reading it, seated at all time, depicting different scenes and characters using different ton of their voice.  It was really a different version of acting.  The fundamental difference of this version compared to a real "play" for me was how the play reading needed a good deal of attention to be comprehended.  There was hardly any visual clues, any motion, any change of color or light even.  It was all reading, demanding the audience to pay attention to the words and intonations.  It needed some getting used to.  But after a while, it was easier to follow and imagining the scenes.
The play reading is repeated tonight at Stanford.

Mojdeh Shamsaei, Mohsen Namjoo, Bahram Bayzai

Notes from A Woman with A Bump: Sleeping for A New Mom

Broken nights. That's what I get. Usually a couple hours at the beginning of the night, which starts around 1 AM. And then just an hour or so here and there with waken hours in between.
I feel tired! I really hope to sleep for 5-6 hours straight once. Since the last months of pregnancy I haven't been able to sleep much.
I see two big black circles under my eyes now, the patches of motherhood I suppose.
A friend suggested to let my mom take care of the baby for a night with pumped milk. But I couldn't convince myself. Not to burden my mom, but more importantly not to lose the connection with my baby girl for a whole night. She just turned one month after all.
May be I'm not thinking clearly with all the sleeplessness. Point is, it won't last for ever. Soon I will forget all about all these.

Notes from A Woman With A Bump: Calming A Fussy Baby

Our little angle has started going through episodes of u settled cries every night. It starts around 9pm and lasts for 3 to 4 hours every night. The most calming yet temporary method thus far has been having her nursed. Then again she would start veiling and there is no calming down until next nursing when she would be kicking and screaming as if something is awfully wrong with her stomach.
Colic? May be.
Here are the methods we have tried thus far:
1) nursing - works but for a short period of time
2) walking her - hardly works
3) singing to her - hardly works - it works during the day though when she is up to listening
4) stomach drops - we have tried one: Remedies for Little Tummies - the active ingredient is Simeticone and available in other commercial brands. She seems to like the taste of it, and seems to be calmed but not enough
5) white noise - this has proven to be the most effective one - we have tried putting her close to a working dish washing machine or washer and drier; they all worked.  We also tried the white noises available on You Tube.  The static noise was the least effective, the noise of a moving fan worked some, but the noise of heavy rainfall was magic! It was effective as soon as it got started to the extend that I got worried! It lasts for about half hour and then she wanted to be nursed again but calmly and with no protest.
6) rocking/swinging - this woke before she becomes too fussy or when she is already drowsy for sleep.
So give these a try, of course # 4 after counseling with your pediatrician. And good luck with calming your crying baby! Let me know if you know of other effective remedies.

13

Opened my eyes this morning after yet another unsettled night to see the wooden box with a beautiful red rose on top of it on the bed side table; I was all smiles.

It was 13 years ago.  In the haze of those young days and nights you stepped into my life.  I felt something different, something I had not felt before. I knew I had fallen for those honest eyes and that sheepish smile.

I knew I was crossing an unknown territory. I loved the excitement of it.  I thought I was ready even though I had no idea, no imagination even.  I didn't imagine much beyond how I would decorate the kitchen table.

I took it all as it came.  An exciting ride indeed; a new scene behind each corner.  Not always a smooth ride, neither pleasant all the time, nor always lovely.  Yet, you were with me all the time.

I know I love you.

Happy Anniversary!

A Midnight Review of Fear

What makes people to feel afraid?
What is fear?
I think one version of fear is when one cannot be honest to himself.  Then he cannot be honest to anyone. May be because he tries to avoid reprimand. May be he is afraid of being himself because his real self is different than the role he has always assumed. May be he is afraid of being judged. May be he is afraid of change.
I don't think there is anything more pitiful about a man than being afraid of another person to the extend of not being himself, permanently.
I believe in mistakes; it is just the very nature of man to make mistakes sometimes.  I believe in change.  the whole universe is constantly changing.  Then, there shall be no fear when one realizes his mistake. Or when one realizes how didferent he thinks, feels, comprehends.  It needs courage of course; to admit to a mistake and then to correct it. Being courageous is not easy but  admirable indeed!.

I Never Found Out

It was a late afternoon. One of those winter evenings that gets dark early. It was chilly and a bit hazy. I had parked right in front of the department, by chance my car was just west to the main entrance. That meant anyone in the male section of the cafeteria could see my car.
How interesting! Our cafeteria was segregated!!
So, anyone from up there could see the car, I realized afterward.
I was coming back from a workshop which was in another building in another corner of the campus. I approached my car in that late afternoon from another building. I don't remember if I were alone or with a girl friend.
When I reached my car, I realized there was something beneath the windshield. Was I fined? In a second look I realized it was not a paper, but a red rose. A perfectly fresh red rose. I immediately looked around to find nobody; and then above toward the cafeteria. The glasses were mate!
I took the rose from the windshield. Rode the car and put it inside. Drove away.

Notes from A Woman with A Bump: Baby Species

I realized some people talk about babies as if they were a certain species other than humans.
"They" love it liked this.
"They" do that sometimes.
When "they" sleep ...
When "they burp" ...
I was watching my little angel and I thing she was anything but "they". She has her own being, her own personify, her own likings and dislikings; she takes her sweet time with her sleeping and nursing and burping.
Yet, frankly, it is a relief to know some of the stuff which she does are more "common" than not. For example, she might concentrate on swallowing so deeply that she might stop breathing in the middle of nursing; that scared me deeply. But then my mom said "they" did that sometimes and I must blow in her face and she would breathe again. And my mom was right. It's not "common" for humans do stop breathing in the middle of drinking. So it is indeed something "they" do.
Well. Perhaps.
But still, this is something my little angel does and that's all that matters in my mind.

Notes from A Woman with A Bump: Getting into the Groove

My little angel and I are getting pretty familiar with each other. Took us a few days, but we made it. Granted she is changing daily and the groove might change but I know I will learn it again.
She has a specific cry for most every need and I can recognize them. And then she has a very particular nursing cycle that lasts between 40 to 70 minutes, even at night; or shall I say particularly at night.
In any case, all is good, thank God!

Notes from A Woman with A Bump: Excercise Post Delivery

I think it is time to begin post natal excercises.
Nothing too vigorous of course. A simple walk around the block for 5 minutes to begin with.  Then increasing duration little by little and adding some simple stretches, may be even using the elliptical machine in due time.
One of the nurses at the hospital advised me to wait for six weeks and resume my excercise regym after I met with my ObGyn at that point. But I feel the urge to start.
I researched the web and read a few articles on the subject, including one from Mayo Clinic, which I trust the most.  I figured that it can be safe to resume physical activities as soon as the mom feels like it, it was even recommended.  Judged best especially post uncomplicated vaginal delivery.  Of course the recommendation is mainly walks and swimming lapses at this point. There were some simple ab routines recommended by some articles but I think that's a stretch, at least for my body at this point.
I know my body has not healed completely yet. Even the bruises from the IV pokes are still visible and slightly painful let alone all other invasions. But I feel my body is ready for walks, even some very simple weight training. Need it to be able to hold my baby to nurse and help her burp.
So, the excercises resume starting today, day 11:
a 5 minute walk around the block, follwed by bridge and pelvic  tilt, 10 each for 3 repetitions.

Beach Day

Feels like a great day to be spent by the ocean.
Since the birth if my daughter I haven't been out of the house. Now I like to make a trip to the beach with everything already packed. Even the sand toys for the kids.
Spending a day there, listening to the waves crashing at the sands and A laughing chasing the waves.
We would be chatting about the current events, about the newest apps, about the kids, about work, about democracy, and about our plans for next summer.
Just a day to relax.  Soon I hope!

Notes from A Woman with A Bump: 10 Day Young

My little angel is 10 day young.
She is sleeping better through the night; we put her in her bassinet and she seems pretty comfortable and safe in it.
Yesterday, suddenly my heart went for her as I felt how scary this world should be for her. I wanted to protect her from it all. I wanted to hug her and never let go. She is too tiny, too pure, too soft for this vast cruel harsh world.
We were browsing the BBC newscast with my mom yesterday as M prompted me about the unrest in Egypt. I had read the news from Flipboard.  Does the people know what they want? Do they know the meaning of democracy? Do they value their own vote? Do they know there is no perfect government? There is no perfect "them" for heaven's sake!
There was this news of killing of a 14 year old boy who had allegedly said something about prophet Mohammad in the streets of Aleppo.  There were four gunmen near by who heard him and killed him with two shots on the spot.  His mom just steps away and his brothers near by, witnessing his murder.
Who do you guys think you are? Whom do you think you are defending?  Do you know how many people mocked prophet Mohammad when he was alive? Did he raise his voice on one of them? Do you understand his kindness? Do you have a glipse if his heavenly heart? Whom do you think you are defending? Do you know anything about your prophet? Alas! He is not your prophet. Your guidance is your ferocious animalistic ego you carry within you. But I know.  There is God. And there is justice. And you will see!
I want to protect my kids from this all. How hard!

Notes from A Woman with a Bump: One Week Mark

My precious little angle was due to be born today. Instead, she has been with us for a week already. How grateful I am for her presence in my life!
I feel very content with her, perhaps more than I did with my A. I was not quite ready with A may be. I didn't know what it meant to give birth, to have a baby, to raise a baby. I didn't know how quickly they changed, how everything was so temporary. Even the seemingly countless sleepless nights under the veils of a crying baby.
With her, I know.
I smell her every opportunity I get. I look at every curve on her face, I touch her stick-like fingers. I know all this will change. This moment is my last chance with having her as a one-week-young.
I know the sleepless nights are very well counted.  I cherish it. More wake hours with my baby.
I adore her.
I feel very content with this peice of heaven that fell on my lap. I am forever thankful to The Divine Love!