Who needs an excuse, but...

ITS INTERNATIONAL PILLOW FIGHT DAY TODAY, PEOPLE!

Enjoy!

Photos of our battles to follow soon!

And now for something completely different...

It shouldn't be really. I have written in my strapline at the top of the blog that this is about family and expat life as well as art and friendship. As I've said before, my blog is the epitome of being on a determined and focused pathway, with an awesome to-do list and then....
ooooh, shiiiiiiiiny.......

 

I rest my case.

 

So I thought I'd take this last weekend as a starter and get the ball rolling and blurb about family and expat life. Not controversially. Or politically. I ain't planning to be on any deportation plane outa here, thanks. Just events from the sunny side of life with a few hugs and giggles thrown in, I hope.

 

This weekend, we were in Dubai for the Kids' rugby festival. Another exciting event, such great community and encouraging spirit

(for the most part at least....jeeez, some parents....).

 

Child Number 2 was scheduled to kick off at 1400 on Friday and was likely to play the next day. Wonderful, a leisurely morning.

 

However. Child Number 1 kicked off at 1000 and Coach wanted us to be there at 0800. Agh. Hey ho. It is what it is and that's why we're there. We saw some other games of rugby and caught up with the other parents, kicked back ('scuse the pun) and generally enjoyed the cool winter sunshine.

 

What. A. Day.

 

At last, Bear's team finally win their division! Something finally well and truly clicked in the team and some fabulous rugby could be watched with those youngsters. My babe was scrum half :-) and one of the other coaches of the others team joked about who he'd like on his team for the next match, and she was one of the two he mentioned. She's found her niche and she had a super day. She kept saying how happy she was!

 

Pops' team were kicked out on points difference...he was so frustrated as were they all I think. Like MCFL, they played their socks off. But it was soon forgotten and they realised they had a fun day all in all. Especially when they realised the allocated food vouchers covered gobstopper lollipops....

 

It was a wonderful day all round for the Muscat Pirates and many of the teams got through to finals, or semis at least.

 

And I met Lewis Moody and Rory Lawson. Rory lives in Dubai now so we're practically neighbours! I spoke with him for about 5-10 minutes so we are pretty much BFFs.

 

Oh, more importantly these international stars presented the winning Under 10s' development team their trophy.

 

 

 

I often say to friends there is almost too much to do here generating a sense of exhaustion in many parents. But in actual fact I don't think that's the case; it's that the weather allows such events like this to happen with ease and continuity. Everything is therefore accessible. So we feel obliged to do everything and make the most of what we have on offer here. I know we are truly lucky to have tournaments such as this open to us and that our children can experience things like this on a regular basis. I know they can in the UK but it will turn out to be completely different rugby training really...colder climates, frozen fields etc. will lead to a different playing mentality if that child player continues to play rugby at an adult level I wonder.

 

Anyhoo, it's tournament central in the P&P household. I'm off to Abu Dhabi this weekend with my Gaelic Football team. Then it's Hubby's turn for the rugby! And Bear insisted I blinged up my football boots.

I expect the tashes should be lower but I'm kicking a lot and I don't want to spoil the glitter.
Don't you tell me I'm a dull Mum or I'll set my nerf gun on you.

I've been on me summer hols. So the artist for August has been delayed, maybe cancelled, or call it deferred, to September anyway. As well as much other communication. I've got some great artists lined up. I saw an exhibition in Glasgow's Museum of Modern Art of another artist who's name I had heard in passing but I might save them until September ;-) It's another fascinating character whose influences and inspirations are particularly intriguing and haunting. A few others lined up maybe before this one maybe!

So, no soundtrack this year. Instead, the road trip in bullet form: 

* Borrowed campervan due to the tragic loss of Betty. (I haven’t posted about this. Those of you who know me will know the story and the ongoing saga and we’ve just put it behind us). However, plans are afoot for the new mobile home!

* Heading to Wellington Country Park, driving 70mph in the borrowed van. Blimey. Never thought it was possible.

* Pops drawing a fire scene in his notebook; Me: “do you want to be a fireman?” –

Pops: “Don’t know, but I have back-up plans.” 

* Collected new van. Fingers crossed.

Next few weeks will be testing it out and planning its refurb.

* Drinking tea in the back garden with my auntie P and cousin S.

I’ve not seen my cousin since I was a teenager :-)

 

* Pops gets his iPod back after leaving it in the UK at Christmas. Father Christmas delivered it back to Grampa who returned it to us. A rather stunned but happy little boy.

* In the Beehive, Shifnal, watching the Lions’ final and deciding test against Australia. Lovely landlady who opened up early especially for us, bought us our first drink and gave the kids sweets!

* Daniel Craig, the British Lions and champagne all in one changing room…

* Camper Jam.

* Thecurrystall.co.uk. Proper Indian cooking.

We were talking about Oman and the Middle East.

He told us of a restaurant called Ibrahim's in Abu Dhabi, recommended by his Uncle. 

* Negotiating long grass in Havaianas is much like walking in sand. :-/

* I have a pink fringe!

* Andy Murray wins Wimbledon. Facts nicked from my friend DH: It is 77 years since a British male won the singles title at Wimbledon. The last British singles winner - Virginia Wade - won in '77 and Andy Murray played the final on 7/7.

* Alton Towers. Constantly thinking about possible art lessons…Alton Towers itself is a beautiful Victorian Gothic building designed by Augustus Pugin. He will be the subject of one of the Victorian architecture lessons in Year 5 :-)

* Bear goes on Sonic Spinball twice in a row, as soon as it opens at 10am without having to queue. She’s a daredevil that one. Next year she’s got her sights on all the rides.

* Scotland. Loch Drunkie. I want to camp next to this loch and get tipsy.

* Brig O’Turk tea rooms. My first cream tea. Whipped cream though. Tut, Scots, huh…

* Our Anniversary – a civilised meal in a beautiful restaurant, very nice. Then we walked back at 10.30pm and it is still light. We try to find a decent pub to have a night cap but most of them have three old men propping up the bar. So we end up at Hubby’s old local. No window to look through to suss the situation so we go for it. Instead there are three younger men propping up the bar and a tipsy barmaid whose lifestory we get by the end of the night…followed by a jagermeister.

* Braco graveyard with Pops to satisfy his curiosity. It turns out it is not a morbid fascination but he is looking for Alexander the Great’s and Charles Darwin’s grave. A ball of 7 year-old cuteness...

* Grampa’s 70th Birthday garden party.

* We start the van refurbishment ball rolling and meet up with the guy who did our last van interior as well as drop the van off as the interior specialists. A nice bunch of guys.

* Meet up with the Duchess who is England with the kids. So good to see the family and to see the children playing.

* Head to Dorset to camp for 10 days with some dear friends. Super as last year.

Despite one afternoon sacrificed to the Goddess of Pimms.

* Drop the van off after a lovely lunch at the local pub. Pimms, just in case it’s my last one, and a crab salad. Bear has a quarter of a steak and ale pie and finished most of it.

* We stayed in the Queen's Hotel in Southsea.

Hubby and I stayed in here one night after one of out first dates in our first year.

* HMS Victory

* Afternoon tea at Mum and Dad’s. They have the children for the weekend as we head to Brighton to surprise a friend for her 40th.

* It’s Gay Pride weekend and it’s fabulous! We see some great sights, too many hen parties though. A lovely hotel and I see the one I nearly booked at! Lots of rainbow flags and leather on the front patio! 

* Surprise for my lovely Banou in Hotel du Vin. She thought we weren't going to be in the country. We had left messages on each other’s phones and never actually managed to speak to each other. Apparently she was quite upset that I wasn’t going to be around. She is a calm and collected character and she showed no emotion when she saw us, she was genuinely stunned and surprised. A great evening at Jamie Oliver’s restaurant and then to Lucky Voice (karaoke) when I realised I don’t mind it, if there are no strangers.

* Lunch in Kemptown. I miss Brighton.

* Off to my sister’s in London. She’s asked me and Bear to be bridesmaids… :’-)

* Star Wars shop in Northolt, the Science Museum, Westminster Abbey (Darwin, Newton and Shakespeare’s graves and memorials and the grave of the Unknown Warrior were the highlight for the kids…I loved the whole place), Cafe Chutney at Covent Garden with opera singers, cupcakes and lollipops, Lego shop, the Fire of London monument.

 

* Harrod’s for Banou’s birthday. What a giggle :-) We made a pact that we would try and do tea at Harrods every year.

* Hummingbird bakery for more cupcakes.

* Final couple of hours with sis at the park. 

* This year – a wonderful, packed, fun holiday filled with lots of smiles, laughter and love. It’s made it harder again to come  back to Oman. I miss Britain and all those family and friends in it even more this year.

 

Not all work!

This is turning in to a teaching blog...not quite what I had wanted but as I have said before it is a big part of my life just now so once that settles down and I really find my feet then that's how it will be.

BUT I'm still a mama and wife (joint) number one.

I found this article recently, from the Huffington Post. Very few things like this hit home with me but this one did.

Here it is in full but here's the link if you want to.

The Mom Stays in the Picture

 

Last weekend, my family traveled to attend my oldest niece's Sweet Sixteen party. My brother and sister-in-law planned this party for many months and intended it to be a big surprise, and it included a photo booth for the guests. I showed up to the party a bit late and, as usual, slightly askew from trying to dress myself and all my little people for such a special night out. I'm still carrying a fair amount of baby weight and wearing a nursing bra, and I don't fit into my cute clothes. I felt awkward and tired and rumpled.

I was leaning my aching back against the bar, my now 5-month-old baby sleeping in a carrier on my chest (despite the pounding bass and dulcet tones of LMFAO blasting through the room) when my 5-year-old son ran up to me.

 

"Come take pictures with me, Mommy," he yelled over the music, "in the photo booth!"

 

I hesitated. I avoid photographic evidence of my existence these days. To be honest, I avoid even mirrors. When I see myself in pictures, it makes me wince. I know I am far from alone; I know that many of my friends also avoid the camera. It seems logical. We're sporting mama bodies and we're not as young as we used to be. We don't always have time to blow dry our hair, apply make-up, perhaps even bathe (ducking). The kids are so much cuter than we are; better to just take their pictures, we think.

 

But we really need to make an effort to get in the picture. Our sons need to see how young and beautiful and human their mamas were. Our daughters need to see us vulnerable and open and just being ourselves -- women, mamas, people living lives.

 

Avoiding the camera because we don't like to see our own pictures? How can that be okay? Too much of a mama's life goes undocumented and unseen. People, including my children, don't see the way I make sure my kids' favorite stuffed animals are on their beds at night. They don't know how I walk the grocery store aisles looking for treats that will thrill them for a special day. They don't know that I saved their side-snap, paper-thin baby shirts from the hospital where they were born or their little hospital bracelets in keepsake boxes high on the top shelves of their closets. They don't see me tossing and turning in bed wondering if I am doing an okay job as a mother, if they are okay in their schools, where we should take them for a vacation, what we should do for their birthdays. I'm up long past the news on Christmas Eve wrapping presents and eating cookies and milk, and I spend hours hunting the Internet and the local Targets for specially-requested Halloween costumes and birthday presents. They don't see any of that.

 

Someday, I want them to see me, documented, sitting right there beside them: me, the woman who gave birth to them, whom they can thank for their ample thighs and their pretty hair; me, the woman who nursed them all for the first years of their lives, enduring porn star-sized boobs and leaking through her shirts for months on end; me, who ran around gathering snacks to be the week's parent reader or planning the class Valentine's Day party; me, who cried when I dropped them off at preschool, breathed in the smell of their post-bath hair when I read them bedtime stories, and defied speeding laws when I had to rush them to the pediatric ER in the middle of the night for fill-in-the-blank (ear infections, croup, rotavirus).

 

I'm everywhere in their young lives, and yet I have very few pictures of me with them. Someday I won't be here -- and I don't know if that someday is tomorrow or thirty or forty or fifty years from now -- but I want them to have pictures of me. I want them to see the way I looked at them, see how much I loved them. I am not perfect to look at and I am not perfect to love, but I am perfectly their mother.

 

When I look at pictures of my own mother, I don't look at cellulite or hair debacles. I just see her -- her kind eyes, her open-mouthed, joyful smile, her familiar clothes. That's the mother I remember. My mother's body is the vessel that carries all the memories of my childhood. I always loved that her stomach was soft, her skin freckled, her fingers long. I didn't care that she didn't look like a model. She was my mama.

 

So when all is said and done, if I can't do it for myself, I want to do it for my kids. I want to be in the picture, to give them that visual memory of me. I want them to see how much I am here, how my body looks wrapped around them in a hug, how loved they are.

I will save the little printed page with four squares of pictures on it and the words "Morgan's Sweet Sixteen" scrawled across the top with the date. There I am, hair not quite coiffed, make-up minimal, face fuller than I would like -- one hand holding a sleeping baby's head, and the other wrapped around my sweet littlest guy, who could not care less what I look like.

 

 

Thank you Allison Tate, for making me rethink my own vanity and self-concern!

I hate having my picture taken, I really do. I've got worse as I've got older. I don't think I'm photogenic...there's an element of vanity in that statement but really, why bother having a photo of myself that I'm only going to grimace at and go all girly.

So I will take heed of this article and try to remember over the coming years...

A weekend of being Super Mum…

Well, actually that's not entirely true. I could revel in the fact that Bear had a lovely sleepover here with her two besties thanks to my planning and creativity. 

Plan = Painting their own pillowcases, swapping friendship bracelets, decorating her room with streamers and balloons, using window crayons to decorate...well, her window and make their own pizzas. 

Reality = I go to Yoga all day (more on that later), they arrive when I'm still out, they play Barbies, Dad takes them to the pool, they make their own pizzas (one off the list at least!), I explode a huge party popper in her room (glad I'm not OCD), they watch DVDs all evening, more DVDs this morning, then I make them sit down and paint. (I didn't really, honestly, I just wanted to see these fabric paints I bought!). 

    


Now I'm making flapjacks for Bear to take into school tomorrow for her actual Birthday! A great recipe from BBC Good Food...the lemon zest is a great addition.

I think I'll know all about being Super Mum when football season kicks off. I've completed Pops' application to joining MCFL so that'll be every Thursday morning and one evening in the week where I'm taxi driver. (It's not guaranteed he'll be in but watch this space). Both kids have also started at Muscat Pirates, the children's rugby club. No after school clubs for these two!

I’ve always been aware and sympathetic towards those who work abroad away from their families for months, sometimes years at a time. I do feel sorry for them but remind myself that they are probably in a much better position here in Oman for instance than they might be on their own country; they are able to work and provide more for their families back home. I mean, why else would many come to a country for a (relatively) minimal wage, to work out all day in the blazing heat and sun, to share accommodation with many other workers? This may be a naive and emotional overview of working abroad and I’m sure many other bloggers have touched on the subject.

When we stayed at the Millennium Hotel for Bear’s sailing, we were treated so well. Good customer service goes without saying and I’d expect nothing less. However, one chef just went out of his way that little bit further to pay attention to our children. Pops could not decide what to have so the chef asked if he would like chicken nuggets and fries. OB-viously he did! I guess they ask all the kids this, pretty standard culinary question for a Little Person. Fresh, piping hot, proper chicken breast nuggets arrived…yum.

Later on, the chef came over with two halves of a green apple cut into beautiful swans! I wish I had taken a picture of them… We spoke with him for a while. He is from Myanmar and had been here for over a year. He told us of his children back home who were about the same age as my children. It struck me then that he of course must be missing his children and family and so wanted to pay attention to ours and be around them for a little while.

As I said I’m always aware of this situation for many. But I suppose it’s since my trip to Nepal that I have become a little more mindful, considerate and discerning and people’s such situations strike me deeper now.

A few weeks later we were at the Club catching up with friends and colleagues. One of the lovely waiters who has a face of a baby and a smile and laugh to match came up to us to serve us. So cheery, so happy, so funny! Then he showed us a video on his phone of his son. His 20 month old whom he has only seen once since he was born. He goes home extremely rarely. The next time he gets home, his son will have changed so, so much. Incidentally, his wife rings him three times of an evening as her way of saying ‘good night’. One of many things that in life that the rest of us take for granted.

Then I think of my friends here. It’s on a different level but the emotions are still the same. My friends’ children are in the UK with grandparents whilst the parents work here. It’s breaking their hearts but they know that the girls are having a whale of a time and are much better off in many ways where they are, rather than sat in the house with the maid and the odd playdate. Everyone is counting down to seeing their kids.

Today's offering...

http://prep-prep-preppy.tumblr.com/post/24857880518

I've got so many ideas and thoughts for blog entries, but have been procrastinating far too much. Damn you, Pinterest and awesome art ideas, DAMN you! A new facebook friend (an friend from school) told me it was Procrastination-Central and I was naive enough to dismiss her comments!

But Art prep is going well as a result! I commented to BH today that I hope the teaching next term is as fun as the preparation has been!

Still, many ideas + many distractions = Me, and there is no one Me-er than Me so I'm happy with that and accepting that it ain't happening right now!

Happy Weekend! (if you're in Oman!). Pool party tonight...Mojitos and board games tomorrow. (Not asking for trouble. At all.)

'Sisters'

I received this email from my Mum today, sent to my sister and me. I researched a bit to see if it came from anyone in particular. It appears that this piece of wisdom has also been called 'Mothers'.
'A young wife sat on a sofa on a hot humid day, drinking iced tea and visiting with her mother. As they talked about life, about marriage, about the responsibilities of life and the obligations of adulthood, the mother clinked the ice cubes in her glass thoughtfully and turned a clear, sober glance upon her daughter,

'Don't forget your sisters,' she advised, swirling the tea leaves to the bottom of her glass. 'They'll be more important as you get older. No matter how much you love your husband, no matter how much you love the children you may have, you are still going to need sisters. Remember to go places with them now and then; do things with them.'

'Remember that 'sisters' means ALL the women. your girlfriends, your daughters, and all your other women relatives too. 'You'll need other women. Women always do.'

What a funny piece of advice!' the young woman thought. Haven't I just gotten married? Haven't I just joined the couple-world? I'm now a married woman, for goodness sake! A grownup! Surely my husband and the family we may start will be all I need to make my life worthwhile!'

But she listened to her mother. She kept contact with her sisters and made more women friends each year. As the years tumbled by, one after another, she gradually came to understand that her mother really knew what she was talking about. As time and nature work their changes and their mysteries upon a woman, sisters are the mainstays of her life. After more than 50 years of living in this world, here is what I've learned:

THIS SAYS IT ALL:

Time passes.

Life happens.

Distance separates.

Children grow up.

Jobs come and go.

Love waxes and wanes.

Men don't do what they're supposed to do.

Hearts break.

Parents die.

Colleagues forget favours.

Careers end.

BUT.........

Sisters are there, no matter how much time and how many miles are between you. A girl friend is never farther away than needing her can reach. When you have to walk that lonesome valley and you have to walk it by yourself, the women in your life will be on the valley's rim, cheering you on, praying for you, pulling for you, intervening on your behalf, and waiting with open arms at the valley's end. Sometimes, they will even break the rules and walk beside you....Or come in and carry you out. Girlfriends, daughters, granddaughters, daughters-in-law, sisters, sisters-in-law, Mothers, Grandmothers, aunts, nieces, cousins, and extended family: all bless our life! The world wouldn't be the same without women, and neither would I. When we began this adventure called womanhood, we had no idea of the incredible joys or sorrows that lay ahead. Nor did we know how much we would need each other. Every day, we need each other still.'

Sailing at Mussanah

Sailing Camp at Mussanah for Bear...CHECK!

A lovely couple of days away at the Millenium Resort in Mussanah. It was really quiet, there were only a couple of families (us being one) and a few individuals, plus a week-long training course contingent. A few military bods were at the pool but that was it. There was never more than five people at the pool when I was there.

There were two infinity pools plus a long one. The pools and sunloungers looked out on to the Gulf of Oman and I thought it was the BEST! I love being near the sea, it puts me in such a good space. I read and relaxed and thought and listened to music.

 Anyway, the MAIN reason we were there was obviously not to still my state of mind or remind myself what relaxing is about! Bear had a two day sailing course to reach her Level 1 dinghy sailing certificate. She had a great time and loved it, she really took to it.

The details on Omansail's website about the sailing facilities is geared very much to Omanis. But this really was to to establish a well-trained, fit and able national team. Just reading from their school history page on their site, it was a pretty rigourous selection and training prodecure but they have had some great competitions. From their site;

Our sailing programmes introduce young Omanis to the sport, sometimes for the first time. Sailing - even at a very basic level - combines physical exercise, mental stimulation and teamwork to provide increased self-confidence.

But it goes on to offer a great point and justification why the programme was originally for Omanis, and I think this is the best reason;

Then by creating a renaissance in Oman's maritime heritage, and giving the youth real practical experience of it, we are reconnecting the young to their own history in a much more direct way than a history lesson ever could.

I love this attitude. I've always said that what appeals greatly to me about Oman, is that the country has been allowed to maintain its identity, which fundamentally is still deep-rooted in its history. It's great they are doing all they can to maintain it.

Anyway, I digress. Bear was taking part in the summer sailing camp that was happening over June and July. 35/OR for a 2-day course. And we got a great deal on the hotel too with no need to use the Entertainer vouchers!

Bear was with three other kids, with one instructor, Caroline. On the second day I took some photos and videos. Her first run out after lunch was not great at all! She is uncannily (some may say scarily/worryingly) like me. She was making a run out around the safety boat but it just was not working. Caroline would throw words of encouragement and instruction out to her and Bear would frantically cry back "I'M TRYING!!" and "IT'S NOT WORKING!!" She came back in crying tears of anger. I gave her the 'you're only learning' talk, not realising what the issue had been. All it took was for Caroline to call her over and tell her gently that the rudder wasn't down fully... So that's why it was so hard to tiller the dinghy! Poor thing!

So she's loving learning to sail and Pops went out with BH for 40 minutes and enjoyed it more that he thought so more sailing holidays on the cards, it seems!

************************************************************************************************************
New things to the summer list though:

• Alter campervan curtains.
• Redo camper wheelcover.