Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): December 22nd 2016

It's definitely a slanket and fluffy socks kind of evening.

I don't yet have a slanket, though I have every intention of buying one as soon as possible. And my fluffy socks, well let's just say they occupy a very special place in my heart at the moment.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): December 21st 2016

T stayed home sick yesterday. 

In the evening, he was tired and slumped on our office chair. 

A few minutes later I found Z rolling him carefully and deliberately to 'deliver' him to his bedroom. It was hilarious yet incredibly sweet all at once.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): December 17th 2016

It's my first day out in a loooong time. Happy for some fresh air and change of scenery.

I really should stop my habit of mistaking other people's cars for mine and trying to get into them...

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): December 16th 2016

I've been sick for two weeks and only seemed to be getting worse the past two days. 

It's rare that I take antibiotics eagerly, but I was more than happy this time. My body was failing me.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): December 6th 2016

In a moment of creative inspiration O & T created two 'booths' in our home. One offered childcare services while you used the other - massage. It was like an answered prayer.

They were both amazing at it too. T took such good care of his little brother, that Z didn't want to leave the 'playground' and O gave me a massage that seriously rivaled some of the professionals I've been to lately.

Well worth the $1.50 they charged me and I have to say, as far as setting up booths, forts and having a general 'gymnastics' area, the Moroccan salon pillows we recently had put in are well worth it too!

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): November 28th 2016

We finally had curtains put up in our house and pillows in our Moroccan living room. The house feels a lot cozier and home like.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): November 22nd 2016

I have decided that the ants may lose the battles but will ultimately win the war. I may be bigger, stronger and (hopefully) smarter, but they will outdo me due to their sheer numbers and persistence.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): November 1st 2016

This morning Z went on a serious search. When I asked if I could help him, he said "I'm looking for my resonating chamber."

Sometimes, I feel I'm in way over my head.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): October 26th 2016

Its the very first time that I have to leave my older two in their dad's care, for an extended time, during their school year.

As I frantically go about my daily routine with them, I thought of two crucial notes to leave him with:

1. Feed them well, very well and very often.
2. Good luck.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): October 22nd 2016

I still can't get over how terrible my first haircut here has been. 

One bad hairdresser choice and...

I'm one of the bee gees.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): October 20th 2016

We are entering the teenage phase now with an unmistakeable preteen. I'm starting to understand what people are referring to when they mention the hormonal rollercoaster of this age.

And I once again realize, as I have time and again on this parenting journey, you never really 'know' what a parent is talking about until you've actually been there. you think you 'get it' but getting it takes on a whole new level when it's your child that's growling and snarling like a wild animal one minute and hugging you like a sweet cuddly toddler the next.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): October 15th 2016

After a week at home with a sick child...

I say choose your battles.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): October 14th 2016

My notes for today:

1. I thought it would be easier having a child go on an overnight trip the second time around, but I'm missing T and his sweet cuddles very much.

2. It's tough seeing your child make choices you know aren't right for them and remembering to guide and not intervene in every little thing.

3. I think I have brain fog and milk is the culprit.

4. Sick children are exhausting. I need some space.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): October 13th 2016

I received this message from my language app today:

I'm up from 11% in June, and my ability to request items in a store or have short conversations with people (who often correct me) tells me I'm definitely improving!

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): October 11th 2016

I took this picture today as I was leaving for my yoga class. Bubbles signing I love you to me as I was leaving.

Every time I look at it, I feel the urge to make every moment count...

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): October 10th 2016

I am usually starved of time to myself 

And this is why I've been reluctant to devote a lot of volunteering time at Z's nursery, even though I went in for a couple of hours last week and remembered how much I love being around young children.

Today, all of a sudden, it hit me that this could be my very last opportunity to volunteer at one of my children's nurseries. 

What if he really does go to PreK next year at the 'big school'? Then this chapter of my life will just come to an abrupt end.

I called his teacher and signed up to start volunteering on the spot. I may turn it into a weekly activity.

So funny how we get so overwhelmed raising young children, and just in a flash they're coming home from their five day trip refusing to hug you.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): October 7th 2016

The big day finally came.

We all rushed excitedly to school to pick up O this afternoon after his five day trip. 

He greeted us by refusing to give me a hug and quite honestly told me that he didn't think about us at all during his trip.

Makes me question the goal of this little endeavor. Was it to promote independence or some sort of five day boot camp to turn him into a rebellious teenager?

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): October 6th 2016

For some reason, whenever we call out to Z he assumes it's roll call and answers back "Here!"

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): October 5th 2016

Sometimes I wish there was a way to unfriend, unfollow and hide posts from people, in real life.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): October 4th 2016

Is it normal to cry when I see O's unmade bed, or his books lying around his room? And today I woke up feeling very sick. Week body and aching muscles and limbs. He's been gone two days. 

I am NOT going to handle the empty nest situation very well, am I?

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): October 3rd 2016

Sent O away on his camping trip this morning. Away from home with no communication option. Just measly updates by his teacher.

I never imagined it would hit me this hard. I miss him so incredibly much. It seems like punishment that I can't even just call to see if he's alright.

How on earth did we get to the point? He's now heading off on his own, for a whole five days, to be independent?

Today I decided that going away for college and marriage, is off the table for all my boys.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): October 1st 2016

Today is one of those days where, one hour into it, I wish I could go back to bed and start over.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 30th 2016

Would have never envisioned myself one day saying:

 "Please don't rollerblade in the house."

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 29th 2016

There is a time in the late evenings, when even the fridge door alarm sounds like someone whining.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 28th 2016

Ironic that goldfish crackers are now a scarce and highly sought after commodity in our lives. :)

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 27th 2016

Went to get a medical check up today and upon entering the doctor's office I found a dog. 

Cute, fluffy and very friendly...but I don't think I've ever encountered a dog at a doctor's office.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 24th 2016

And just like that, I blinked, and Z is a boy.

Not a baby... not a toddler... a real boy.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 23rd 2016

Z threw another fit, this time inciting on sitting diaper-less and that he was 'not ready' to go to nursery. This time, I just left him, no diaper and all, and said "Let me know when you're ready."

About 5 minutes later he came up happily and announced that he was "Ready now!"

I had forgotten this stage of development where they just want to have a little say in something. Just to feel some power or control. 

I tried this with nap today. Instead of telling him I thought he was sleepy and we should rest. I just asked him to tell me when he was ready to nap. He's snoozing right now!

Some ladies today that have been in Morocco a little longer than I have reassured me that my layered 80s haircut fiasco was some sort of initiation into Morocco. Apparently they knew the drill. Apparently, if you fluff it up, you can achieve some sort of Boney M style. Definitely can see that happening with the way my reacts to the humidity here.

I got the names of good hairdressers and the french vocabulary for without layers. Just have to wait a few months till my hair grows enough to be fixed!

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 21st 2016

Z slammed his first door today while protesting going to nursery.

[Bewildered silence...]

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 17th 2016

Finally managed to do a short session of yoga today. 

Every time I take up yoga again and feel the stretching in my tight muscles and the relaxation that it brings, I wonder why I ever stopped in the first place.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 16th 2016

Gathered up the pool inflatables this morning but just can't bring myself to deflate and store them. 

That would be admitting that summer is over, just because we're getting the first glimpse of fall.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 15th 2016

Today I finally realized (or more like consciously admit) that I have a chocolate problem.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 14th 2016

Z seems to have upgraded from simply dinosaurs to the entire, and mostly current, animal kingdom.

He's picking up a lot of vocabulary and ideas from his animal show but I got the feeling  he was slightly confused when he told me the lion as drinking nectar from the zebra.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 12th 2016

I set out a rice cake for Z to eat and, shortly after, I heard him giggling away. 

Then I heard him say "Look at this creature Mommy!"

When I looked, there was a white worm like creature with a brownish head (meal moth larvae would be my guess) making it's way up his plate.

Silent shock.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 7th 2016

I bought a produce basket last night. I believe this counts as my official proof of residence here in Morocco :)

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 6th 2016

Today I read a an article about de-cluttering that saved a woman her sanity and helped her enjoy her motherhood.

Every thought in her head, every detail of her story could have easily been me, save for one thing: she took action, effective action, immediately.


I have been feeling for so long that my entire quality of life has been hijacked by things that just sit around my house sucking the life out of me, and my family.

I have been de-cluttering but clearly I haven’t been ruthless enough.

Let the (ruthless) purging begin...

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 5th 2016

Little Z was walking about in his usual manner, head in the clouds, not really focused on what's in front of him when, quite expectedly, he bumped into the wall. 

Stunned he exclaimed "Whoa! Didn't see that comin'!"

Really? I did.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 4th 2016

I'm almost embarrassed by how much clutter we have accumulated. 

Actually, I'm very embarrassed. 

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 3rd 2016

I called a man to measure and install curtains for us. He informed me that he was spending this month away for Eid celebration. I'm a little in disbelief that I really can't get curtains for one month.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 2nd 2016

One thing I wish people realized was, how difficult it is for me to answer the simple question "Where are you from?"

I inherited a passport from each of my parents. My father's origins are from a different place than the passport he handed me. I was born and raised until I was fourteen in a fourth place altogether. 

I grew up as a third culture kid not really knowing what belonging to a specific culture meant. I had friends from everywhere. We connected based on a personality and interest match, unrelated to our 'nationalities.'

Now my new nuclear family perpetually moves from one country to another to follow my husband's work and I know that makes me all the more aware and yet all the more confused. I can't begin to imagine how confused my poor children must be.

At one point, I wanted to declare my own country. I come from the Republic of Me. I just don't see most adults appreciating that type of response. 

But I'm just me. You can't stereotype based on what nationality I hold or where I'm 'originally from.' 

I just don't fix in any neat box.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): September 1st 2016

Fourth grade had a parent meeting today. I came out of it with two thoughts only:

1. T is going on an overnight school trip WITHOUT ME? I tried not to look like the panicked helicopter mom, that I'm clearly not.

2. No. Homework. I almost danced a jig.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): August 30th 2016

I have unearthed my rice cooker and fallen in love with it all over again...

Z managed to sit at our breakfast table for his 'lunch.' He ate yogurt sitting on one chair and managed to smudge yogurt where he was seated. Then he had watermelon while sitting on another chair, and dripped watermelon juice under his seat and on the area of the table in front of him. Finally, he had the hearty meal my rice cooker helped make and chose a third location to adorn with rice and nuts.

O had read about a robot called mop and shine that some mom invented in a fictional story that now sounds like my sweetest fairy tale.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): August 29th 2016

I wonder if anyone else has to remind their child to wear his shoes as he heads out to school?

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): August 28th 2016

T's new friend is our little garden gecko.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): August 27th 2016

Z climbed up the back of my bed this morning and called "Activate flying powers!" before he fell back onto the mattress in fits of giggles.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): August 26th 2016

I'm feeling colonized...by ants.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): August 24th 2016

We have ants. A lot of ants.

I know it's common here, but I doubt anyone has this many ants. Flying ants in one bathroom, crawling ants all over the kitchen and breakfast areas, ants in our garbage, ants drinking water in our bathroom, and the latest, ants moving their eggs by the hundreds, maybe thousands, into our bedroom.

When I said I liked the 'charm' and 'naturey' feel of our house here, I meant trees in the yard, and birds chirping by the window. No Ants.

Diary of a Confused Mom (in Morocco): August 23rd 2016

Two more things I love about T: 

He doesn't care if his socks match. Laundry work is much easier this way.


My sister and I (lovingly) call him scruffy behind his back. Scruffy left the side door unlocked again, and today it was my saving grace when I locked myself out of the front door with Z asleep inside the house. I will never admit this to him.