Today, the JEERAN Kid Pitch team came from behind in the last inning to overcome an 8 point lead and win the game.
The same thing happened last week: 8 runs down and win in the last inning.
Sadly, it was McDonalds they beat, the team the older kinzayn play for, BOTH TIMES. It is a sad afternoon at Daar Al Kounouz.
Ya Omar, waynak? Yours is the team to beat!! Only two more games!
For the first time, I am at a loss for words. So rather than blog, I will pray for Palestine.
Update: Part of my loss of words is just not feeling adequate to convey feelings about a human tragedy that is not just past history, but present-continuous-tense suffering. One that has affected all my friends in Jordan. I am surrounded by it, and all the words others have blogged have provoked solemn silence. Mommabean, on the other hand, found some great words to share, so I invite you to read them here.
Have you seen the new “Field Guide To Jordan”? If i can use a very VIVA term, it’s a MUST-HAVE!!!
At only 15JD, it is a wealth of words and images capturing the fine details of this unique land that is Urdun. If you are looking for gifts for far-flung Jordanians that will make them cry with homesickness and come back, this is it. Available at Readers, and all the usual places. (hat-tip: Desertmom, my flora & fauna resource). Who would have known the Maani clan are so multi-talented? Not only can one of them run a city really well, they are amazing artists.
Can you tell i’ve been shopping for gifts? More ideas for the thrifty minded:
* for wrinkling middle-aged sisters-in-law, $20 tubes of RetinA are only 5.5JD at Cozmo.
* Al Afghani Bazar (Bizarre? Bazaar? Bazaziir?) ) has cool ‘frig magnets.
* an even cheaper “Mish Normal” knock-off at Duwwar Hawuuz has Cold Water Creek blouses for 2JD
(Sorry I’ve been such a bad blogger. But I’ve been a good mom, so priorities are in order)
This Friday, in addition to photographers capturing images of little leaguers for team photos, we saw some serious camera-men/persons? shooting parts of the games and interviewing players. I thought “Well, I guess the local newspapers finally decided baseball was a newsworthy item!”.
Well, it was a bigger deal than just that! Desertmom called to say it was none other than Al Jazeera, in the flesh. They interviewed Munir Odeh and David Nuqul about the game and their involvement. Hope they noticed they EXTREME commitment of parents, who froze and endured windy dust on par with salon exfoliation treatment to cheer their kids on.
Glory be. I hope no one told them how many coaches are Americans and, horrors, some even Evangelical Christians; it may never get on the air. OK, I’m being unduly snarky, please forgive me :). I am just glad they saw the value of the sport for Jordanian kids enough to cover it. Hopefully no conspiracy-theorists will catch that most of the moms bring artery-clogging Planet Donuts for post-game snack.
OK, but what I’m REALLY happy about is that they found out about it through a magazine article. As far as I know, I’m they only one ever haven written on the subject so far, during my short but bitter-sweet tenure with Family Flavours Magazine (the 7iber folk kindly posted it here, too).
Heh-heh. Tickles me, indeed. Can’t wait to tell my my US-bound friends I inspired Al-Jazeerah. Must be a slow features week. 
I don’t know when it will be aired. Let me know if you see it!
Got a kitty who goes out? Get her vaccinated, as there is a growing epidemic of deadly cat fever in the country. A vet once told me every few years such a virus decimates the local feral cat population, and it is has been awhile. Although I am not fond of feral cats, I am less fond of mice. FYI.
Aha…the truth comes out. It seems History Buff was warned by the PE teacher twice to get off said goal post. His injury then falls under the category of direct consequences for disobeying authority, which in our house, is a biggee sin. Authorities in his life: parents, teachers, coaches, police are people we teach our kids to obey without question initially unless they are asked to partake in what we deem to be wrong behavior. They are allowed to appeal to said authority if they have additional information which might change the consequences, and are allowed to ask why if the tone of the question is information seeking rather than insolence. We are there to protect him from the full force of consequences he may not yet have the life experience to see. Sometimes, tho, the kid just wants to have fun, and he is pushing the envelope.
History Buff seems to be entering adolescence, disrespecting mom, a teacher and now his baseball coach at different times. He has been questioning his baseball coach’s decisions (she reads here, hey A!) and was pulled out of a game because of his ‘attitude’. It took me about two hours of tearful discussion before he would relent and own his bad. We had communion at church last week, and I told him he needed to apologize to his coach personally before he took communion. He was mortified to get up in front of everyone (I’m not sure I could do it, then everyone wonders whats it all about!) so I told him he could go afterward. He did, and they are good now.
Then he breaks his leg due to disobedience, and can’t play his favorite sport.
Last night, as we were praying before bed, he said: “Mom, did God break my leg and make me miss baseball season because He is mad at me?” . Oh, the theological questions that come up at bed time. I said: “Honey, God didn’t break your leg, and He doesn’t do revenge with disobedient children. He loves you and forgives you. BUT, He allows consequences to be a teacher if you dont’ listen. He puts authority figures in your life to protect you from the full impact of foolish decisions. You chose to move out from underneath that protection, and you will have to deal with the consequences of your actions. Or, sometimes, other people’s wrong actions. Can you trust God do do what is right in your life?”. He agreed he could, and he could trust me even when I ruin his fun for safety’s sake. And his coach, too.
I should be thankful he entered this stage at almost 11, where Spikekid was fully in it by 9. Oh, the mercy of God…may I learn about the consequences of my own actions in what I teach my kids.
Hubby’s home. Hallelujah/Sub7anallah!! All is good, I have my head back on. And, I am enjoying 370 grams of Lindt Swiss chocolate, slowly. Yum
I think the Traveling Pants have flown their last frequent flier mile.
Why is it that when the man of the house is out of the house and far, far away, I always end up with a child in the hospital, a major car breakdown and an American friend married to a Jordanian guy in trouble? ALL at once???
Sigh. The mechanic just came with the latest verdict. The third verdict of this particular trip, mind you. First payout was 80JD for the twenty-year old car we thought would die by now. The second for our ‘newer’ car, 277JD to cover the blow-out, new brakes, suspension stuff, new muffler pipe and other stuff. Shocked I am, that even ‘old’ parts on ‘newer’ cars cost 3x what the older car does. Then, I could tell the newer car just was not running right and feared the gas tank was leaking. Bingo. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t taken auto-shop and couldn’t recognize spark plug issues. The verdict: nearly 500JD. I am choking, and I fear hubby will be choking too.
Not to mention the freezer defroster not working, a valve in laundry room needing replacement, having to contact the property manager AGAIN to ask why the ads aren’t in the Sunday paper. This is husband work, I am SO not cut out for it. I need my man.
My American friend is an Extreme Prodigal. You know, the biblical story of the Prodigal Son, but she is a daughter. I learned an important lesson this year: do NOT feed a prodigal. If you give them a snack when they are starving, they stay in the pig pen. Let them starve; they come to their senses, come home and repent. She came home, ready for true change, asking for help. She is making good choices, and this is a bright spot on a bad day. It’s just terribly draining to hear of West Ammani lifestyles, like something out of NYT fictional bestseller, that I wish didn’t exist. It’s also risky to get back involved knowing she may not have paid the full consequences. But that is what friends are for.
Thank God hubby doesn’t work outside Jordan permanently, that the hospital visits were brief, we don’t pay American wages to the mechanic and we have the extraordinary blessing of not one but two cars. I also thank Him that my friend could’ve gotten away with it in the US, but an honor-based society forced her back in line.
I am most thankful that the Traveling Pants have begun their descent. If he wasn’t coming soon, that last paragraph would be a fake-it-til-you-make-it-living-in-denial ending to this day.
And I know, the cool stories he comes home with will change my mind, and just another trip won’t look so bad. Plus, the next time he travels, I get to go too!
(History Buff is feeling better, thanks for asking. He was messing around with his crutches today and fell flat on his injured ankle, but seems ok now)
History Buff is on crutches, ya muskiin, but how thankful I am. We spent three hours at Arab Medical Center doing xrays and waiting for the ministrations the greatest Pediatric Orthopedic Surgeon of the East, Dr. Amr Amr. For the excellent and humor-filled care of Dr. Amr “Squared”, I am grateful. I am also most grateful that my only medical options are not Al Bashir and Prince Hamzeh Hospitals, and that we have good health insurance.
Today in PE History Buff was playing with a soccer (football) goal post, and the thing came crashing down on his lower leg, separating the bones of his foot from his ankle more than they should be. Not a break, but he is unable to bear weight more than if it was broken. I got the call just as I was settling in for a marathon of dead-line induced writing, having gotten the kounouz to school on time, had a good breakfast, a time of personal bible study, prayer with a friend, and even weightlifting. What makes this special? It was all accomplished BEFORE I even turned on the computer. I remember having this fleeting thought: “Now don’t think the day will go perfectly just because you started well and did what you are supposed to”. You now, that semi-manipulation of God thing, that if I do stuff His way, He’ll give me whatever I want. I’m thankful I was mentally prepared for whatever came my way.
I picked him up, poor little kid, he was in so much pain. I was trying to cheer him up with thoughts of his pick of movies on the couch, Al Arz Mango ice cream and mommy’s constant attention. We went to the hospital, where they know me well now after Spikekid’s broken arm (skateboarding) and jammed thumb (basketball), and Project Boy’s strep throat infection (swimming). He cheered up after realizing he was going to get squired around in a wheel chair, and that he had my undivided attention.
One great thing about the ex-pat lifestyle, is that we have all become a little ‘Arab’ in that when there is an emergency, there is just no such thing as being too busy to help. One call to an American buddy, another to a Dutch friend, one to a Jordanian sister, and all the details of pick-ups and drop-offs and baseball practices were accomplished.
He and I talked about how his casted leg was going to guarantee us pre-boarding privileges on all our flights to the US, and a coveted ride on one of those electric carts through Frankfurt Airport. He remembers the last time we got to do that, when the cute little driver winked and told us “I know all the shortcuts, I will get you to your connecting flight on time!” She drove like a bat out of hell, it was more fun than Thunder Mountain Railroad at Disneyland. We did not make that flight, but we have the memory of several near-death experiences getting there. We also talked about how it was going to end his first season in Kid-Pitch Division baseball, where he is playing well at 3rd base. Good news, bad news. More good: the cast will come off before our California trip, which will be full of hiking, swimming and body-surfing.
His siblings all signed his cast, and the phone hasn’t stopped ringing with good wishes and inquires pouring in. Lil Kinz is his personal assistant, fluffing his pillows, taking his plates, bringing whatever he needs. Too cute. Spikekid and ProjectBoy have also been very helpful, but since we have inaugurated a new pay-per-chore allowance system, keep asking if they will get paid for their ‘help’! Post on that to follow next week. Whatever the motivation, I am thankful for the help.
I am most thankful of all that he heard the Holy spirit warning him not to run from the falling post, which is what his flight instinct was telling him to do. Had he, it would have fallen on his chest and crushed him. Two days ago I read a CNN headline that an 8 year old boy was killed by a falling goal post. I know better than to read those kind of stories, they make mothers ill with nightmares of how many ways children can die. But having read the title, makes me realize how very close I came to saying goodbye for the last time this morning to my precious treasure, History Buff.
Thank You, Lord!
Sort of.
Just enough make me take it, but not the full amount.
Sigh.
What is it about black BMWs and Mercedes drivers that they just MUST exceed the speed limit? Yesterday, one of each sped through a residential area when kindergarten kids were getting out. Had a child run into the street, he/she would be quite dead, not enough of a body left for proper washing and burial.
Later in the day in a different area, when another school was getting out, this particular BMW passed me three times as if on crack while school children lined both sides of the street. It was being driven by a young man, his shirt even appeared to be one of the local private school uniforms. There were young children in the car, not buckled.
The third time, I braked in the middle of the road to make him stop so I could get a look at the license plate. This is it. I hope someone does something about it.
How many more lives will be cut short due to stupidity?
**UPDATE: Ali blogs about a four year old boy who was killed by such a driver yesterday. On his birthday. I am ready to start a MADD group - Mothers Against Delinquent Drivers.
Thankfully, Sayed See-Through (or, Ustaaz Thobe-n-Thong) seems to have only been in the ‘hood for a week of wedding celebrations. I can now stand tall and look straight ahead rather than at the ground. He packed up his Suburbans with his wives and plethora of children and headed back. It seems he left one part of his family behind, as a furnished rental is still full of little ones. This family must not be a city-dwellers, as these kids are a little scruffier than usual for West Amman, and the very definition of mushkaljiyiin.
The play all day in the street, oblivious to the cars;and some of them should really be in school. A taxi pulled up yesterday, and while the driver was helping his passenger carry bags of groceries to the door, the kids actually got in his taxi and started honking and playing with lights and wipers. I could not believe my eyes, and neither could the taxi driver! He yelled at them and shooed them out, then the six of them started pelted his car with rocks and dirt-clods as he drove off. The street is covered with dirt and rocks they have thrown at cars.
They spend the days climbing our gate, trying to get Tasha’s attention. Her poor little doggy voice is hoarse from barking and she and I are BOTH ready for Prozac as a result. I had to shut the shutters so she can’t hear the kids, or she goes nuts. Yesterday while I was running errands they came into our yard and took a bunch of stuff! I chased them down and got the toys back, they were sweet but don’t seem to get the concept of private property. the Kounouz are quite offended, but I told them they can pray and accomplish more with that than getting mad. My landlord, Mrs. Neighborhood Watch, has yelled at them to no avail. It is only a matter of time before the two Masters of The Neighborhood discover who has been putting dirt on their cars. The two have them have gotten into fist fights with unsuspecting shabaab who unknowingly part in their personal, unmarked street-side spaces.
These things make me ready for a vacation. I should be thankful, though, that the kids don’t wear dish-dashes.
