Skip to main content

Who Knew...

Who knew that today would be such a lovely day?  


That sunny skies dotted with scattered clouds, after a cold and wet weekend, would make the green and the orange on the trees look even more beautiful, and the air fresher than you have felt it for a while. 

Who knew that you could actually come to love the age two on your toddler.  That the inconvenience of a developing sense of self is actually outweighed with the wonder that comes from witnessing the deeper expression of her creativity and talents and character.  

That although you will almost always be late leaving the house for an appointment because not only you have to ready yourself and your toddler, but you also have to gather Lamby, Birdy, Peter Rabit, Ballerina, Baby, oh and Baby's stroller in your arms to leave with you, you can't help feel touched by the kindness in her little heart which doesn't want to leave her most special friends alone in the house.  

Just going to visit Gymbo the Clown.... don't ask!

Or when you just want sensible shoes on her little feet for an outing that you are late for, you will first have to negotiate the pros and cons of other shoes (some of which could be your own high-heeled boots or strappy stilettos).  Again, you can't help to marvel at a tiny girl's desire to express her sense of fashion and style and self.  

Who knew that when I sat down to blog today, my blog count would say that this is Post Number 100, making me think of what this blog has come to mean to me.  Who knew of the happiness that writing it would bring me each and every time I would press PUBLISH POST, and the genuine gratitude I would feel towards each person that has taken the time to stop by this blog and cared to read my writing...  

Who knew that as I was thinking all this, suddenly hearing a little voice singing the entire Twinkle Twinkle song, standing at her pink sink pretend washing her red pots, would take my breath away.  

And All I could do is look out the window into a sunny sky dotted with clouds and say "Dear God, Thank you, thank you!"   

Comments

  1. Thank you! Thank you! indeed! Thank God for our little ones.
    P-

    ReplyDelete
  2. And for bringing people like You into our lives, dear P-

    ReplyDelete
  3. OMG, I am so jealous... need to experience this too! "... suddenly hearing a little voice singing the entire Twinkle Twinkle song, standing at her pink sink pretend washing her red pots...

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

FORTY THREE YEARS, SEVEN MONTHS AND FORTY DAYS

My life and the life of every Iranian I know,  is bookended by the Iranian Revolution of 1979. It doesn't matter that I was barely old enough to remember this historic event or that I spent the decades that followed it, far far away from Iran, the Revolution of 1979 is a heavy, tacky, cruel bookend that defines who we used to be, who we are and the recurring nightmares and dreams we’ve had for 43 years.  I can pinpoint with certainty the exact month after which a general feeling of displacement settled like sticky dust all over me, my family, my classroom, my teachers, our closest friends, our home, our city… In the years and decades that followed, I never experienced another event that brought such a magnitude of change to the nucleus of life.   Not in Iran, and definitely not after a whole life lived outside of Iran.  Perhaps only recently, the experience of the Trump years and the Covid-19 pandemic, the significant fear, change and frustration that both events brought to our col

On Donald Trump, Crunchy Bananas and our Children... A "How To" on keeping up Spirits and Sanity

The other morning at breakfast, my four year old looked, yet again somberly, at the breakfast before her.  Despite having enthusiastically selected a hodgepodge of liberally salted hard boiled egg whites on the side of toasted hamburger buns, strawberries and vanilla yogurt and a cup of milk, she still could not bring herself to enjoy her breakfast.  Her face was wrinkled, as was mine with exasperation from yet another failed attempt at assembling a palatable breakfast for my picky eater. This one, she is quite the philosopher.  And before I could ask her why she wasn't eating, she said: "Two Things!"  Holding up two tiny fingers.  "The smells of these foods I picked, don't go with each other! And I wish Donald Trump would magically become Hillary Clinton, and the word (world) would be GREAT again".     Despite our best efforts to protect our children from the anxiety of these times, they are alert and picking up on the mood (and the lingo) in the wor

Safa

I have always loved words.  The way some people love shiny new objects.  As soon as I heard a new word, a word that captured my imagination, my energy, my hundreds of unnamed inner thoughts and feelings, I would latch on to it with fearceness, joy and curiosity.  I have also always been intrigued by how regular old words can be used in an unexpected context and evoke bursts of unexpected feelings in the listener, such as laughter, anticipation or tears.  I would search for those words coming out of the mouths of everyone around me, and mentally catalog them like a dutiful librarian, and await the opportunity to say the words with my own mouth out loud to an audience, or better yet use it in an essay where the teacher could grade it, get a kick out of it, or read it to the whole class.      As a child I always loved the Persian word Safa .   For one thing the word sounds so simple, yet sophisticated and beautiful, and for another, each of my memories of hearing this word is stored in th