A clean mama

Today, I will go to a hamam or Turkish bath. I have been dying to go for years and this is my first chance. Gokay and I had a couples hamam a few years ago and God, it was nice. We got a package deal that involved a hamam bath and a massage but it was in a touristy hotel and wasn't the real experience. When my friend Amy asked me if I wanted to join her I jumped for it.

The hamam experience is great. You strip down to your underwear (I will wear bikini bottoms), or in some places you can go naked, and you sit on a marble table like stone for at least 30 minutes. In that room there is wet heat and you are supposed to sweat to get all your toxins out and let your skin get good and wet. Then, the women come in and cover your body with soap suds and scrub your skin with a rough washcloth-like glove. They scrub you from head to toe and get all of your dead skin off for about 30 minutes. They then lead you over to one of the many sinks around the outside of the room and they rinse you off. Then you are allowed to spend time in the heated pools if you like. Some people say they feel like a fish being descaled and I am all ready for it.

My only second thought about it is that I will leave Yasemin with her daddy for the first time. We planned it for 7:30pm that way I can get her fed and cleaned and ready for bed before I go. I know they will be fine.....

Anyway, I will be a clean, relaxed mama. I can't wait!!!

Too close for comfort

This post is just a rant to keep me from decking someone. I will be back to my calm, cool, collected self momentarily.

We have lived in our apartment since 2003 and have never had a problem until last August. Our old neighbors got divorced and moved out. They had a little boy but we rarely heard noise coming from upstairs. Then, (insert scary movie noise) the neighbors from hell moved in. For about 2 months there was construction noises that started at 8 am and continued until 5 or 6 pm. Now, their apartment is not that huge but a new kitchen was put in, a new bathroom suite, new floors throughout and I am assuming walls were painted and all that. When they finally moved in, we figured the construction site was finished. Boy were we wrong with a capital W. The first few months there were drill noises and hammering every evening from 8pm til 11 or 12 pm. I was 7 or 8 months pregnant, hot, and ill. About once a week we had to bang on the radiator pipes to remind them that we can hear everything and it was time to knock it off. We put up with that for almost a year. They are newly married and it is their first house but keep in mind that they are also renters. This is not even their house that they are working on constantly. The girl is also obviously very clean. I am woken by the vacuum cleaner every morning at 8 am. She moves every stick of furniture in her house, everyday. They have a cleaning lady come in every Saturday but the wife is up at midnight cleaning before the cleaner comes. I have learned many Turkish curse words from my husband due to them. I ask myself time and time again if they ever just sit down.

Every soccer match they have friends over and the whole time there is moving furniture. I have no idea what they do but they move furniture so much it causes Yasemin's baby monitor to go off so I have to jump up every 10 minutes to see if she is awake or if it comes from upstairs. It also doesn't help my husband's temper that they are supporters for our teams biggest rivals. We understand we live in an apartment and that comes with some noises but this is nuts.

We have told the doorman, we have asked the apartment manager to please speak to them and remind them that we have a baby that likes to sleep sometimes, and we have our bang on the pipe method. Well, last night they got me pissed. My husband had to go to work for a little while last night at 8:30 and around 9:30 the noise got so loud I could not even hear my TV. The baby was sleeping and I did not want her to be woken up. I went to the pipes and knocked a few times. As soon as I sat down, there came back 5 knocks on the pipes. That did it, I jumped up, grabbed the baby monitor, put on my shoes and grabbed my keys. Normally I am a very easy going person. I tend to go with the flow and it takes a lot to get me angry but when I do get angry, watch out. I got into the hallway and realized I might punch somebody so I came back in to calm down a second before I went up. About 5 minutes later the doorbell rang and I thought it was them. I went to the door reciting the Turkish phrases I wanted to use in my head(Excuse me, but maybe you don't realize it is 10pm and I have a baby trying to sleep. We understand some noises but can you maybe put some felt or something on the bottoms of your chairs and furniture? etc etc ). I opened the door and it was my husband. I told him what is going on and as soon as I got finished explaining the loud screeching came from upstairs. We tried to get the doorman but he was out. Today he will get an earful. I am just one loud bang from letting out my inner redneck, and believe me, they don't want that.....

Update: The doorman's wife caught me on my balcony and asked me what was going on. I told her and she can't understand it either. They will talk to the neighbors...we will see what happens.

Step up, Step up. 8th Wonder of the World.

Poo.

Such a little word but one that can make grown men don hazmat suits. The other day my husband and I were watching a video of men changing their babies diapers. There were men gagging, there were men holding their noses while tears ran down their eyes, there were new fathers with gloves on, and there was even one smart ass with a hazmat suit on. One by one the men attempted to change their little 15 lb baby's diapers. Notice I say attempted. They each failed and ran off gagging while the wife stepped in and finished the job. I think one even threw up. My husband was laughing the whole time. I was disgusted and said to him that all men are pansies and that proved it.

My husband has change exactly one diaper. I told him he has to experience it and I let him off easy with a little harmless pee diaper when she was about 4 weeks old. The second time I handed him a diaper and wipes, about a month ago, his work cell phone magically rang. I gave up.

About 10 minutes ago I had my first experience ever in my 20 odd years of changing diapers where I wanted to puke. Yasemin woke from her nap and I changed her about 30 minutes ago and stuck her in her excersaucer to play. She smiled and laughed. Squealing with joy as she spun around playing. The only indication I had was a foul odor coming from her direction. If she were a cartoon there would have wavy lines coming from her rear. I asked her if she had done some business or was she fooling me with gas. She continued to laugh and blow raspberries. The smell got stronger. I went and picked her up, laying her on the blanket. As I opened her diaper my eyes started to water. HOLY MOTHER OF GOD! There was a poo explosion. Why didn't she give me any warning? Because she can care less. She will sit happily in a poo diaper all day if I let her. As I started cleaning her the smell overwhelmed me. How can she have poo on the back of her arm? How I ask you? How?

I cleaned her up with wipes and purel gel. Now she is happily back to playing as we sit in the room with all the windows open.

We needed the fresh air anyway.

Dear God, she just farted..........

Never knew how good clean smells

There is something to be said about cleaning. I sleep better knowing that nothing is out of place and even all the cabinets and drawers are organized. I wasn't always like this, just ask my mom.

Growing up, I used to lothe the sound of the vaccum at 8am on Saturdays. We would spend the whole morning cleaning. It was pure torture for me. My room was always like a small tornado swept through and put everything in piles under my bed and in my closet. The room itself was pretty ok but if you looked under or behind anything..... beware. Mom went through a system of charging me for out of place items and if they stayed out of place too long I think they went missing. I would get my allowance on Fridays for the chores I had done during the week with deductions for each item out of place. My money would come with a written bill. Items all had their prices like a quater or dime for certain pieces. Looking back it was so clever and funny. It is a wonder I had any money at all....ever.

Then, on to my first appartment. My roommate Natalie and I had our rules. Our rooms were our territory. Whatever was in there was ok, just keep the doors closed. The living room was cleaned about once a month or when the dust was so thick you could write your name, whichever came first. The kitchen...oh the kitchen. I remember my roommate's mom calling to say she was coming around and I remember all of the dirty dishes going into the oven. I don't know whose idea that was but it was genious. From then on, we could "clean" the house just by simply putting all the dirty dishes in the oven. I also remember us leaving pots and pans out on the stove til they got all fuzzy inside. Neither of us would want to clean it so we would just throw them away and buy new cheap ones. Sad. Sad. Sad.

Over the years I got better. After my son I had a little two bedroom duplex that I kept pretty clean. His room was spotless as was the living room and kitchen but my closet in my room was always waist high with clothes and shoes. Then, I moved to Turkey....the land of crazy clean houses.

I moved here in late 2003 and my house was always clean and presentable for guests except for maybe in the cupboards or a little dust behind the couch. Still this is the cleanest house I have ever had. The week my daughter was born we got a new cleaning lady. We'd had two come in before her and they did ok but Meral is the best. She comes in and cleans once a week. She moves all the furniture, cleans the floors on her hands and knees (she has never once used the mop), and helps me organize the cabinets. Now, for the last 6 months I have become cleaning crazy. I can't sit down if there is something out of place. Every inch of our house has been organized and cleaned. I can spot a fluff ball from a mile away. It is great.

I am reborn. I never knew how good clean smells!

Weekends

We had a great weekend. We weren't home much, and that was due to the 80 degree weather. Saturday we went grocery shopping and then rollerblading down the coast.

Princess

Sunday, we went to Sapanca Lake. It is about 1 1/2 hours from our house but a whole world away. Clean air? Check. Green trees? Check. Grass? Check. If it weren't so darn far from my hubby's work, I would really be pitching a fit for a house there. I am really missing having my own yard. I want Yasemin to grow up and know about running barefoot and catching fireflies. Sitting on the front porch eating watermelon, spitting the seed all around.

Yesterday we went to the zoo. I had been afraid to go because I see how most things that are Turkish run are made. They are the kings of half-assed work. It wasn't as nice as most American zoos but it was pretty good. I fell in love. They have the cutest little monkeys. I could have stood there all day talking to them except for the fussing baby and the thousand degree heat.

Nothing too exciting to write about today. My poor body is feeling the repercussions of the 3 days of exercise so maybe I will think of something better to write after more rest. :)

Baby Love

Well, yesterday turned out ok. I got to the other side in one piece and with a bit of energy left. We got to my old school around 11:30. I have really missed that place. Of all the schools I have worked in and of all the students I have had, that place was the best. I enjoyed going to work everyday. My kids from last year were gone but some of my younger English students are there still. I have missed seeing their faces everyday. I haven't been since last September and it was so strange. As soon as I walked in one of the 4 year olds came up to me and pulled my sleeve and began to tell me something one of the others had done. It was just like I was there yesterday. Except last time I was there I was huge pregnant and puffing like a train going up and down all the stairs. I caught up with my old friends then my husband came to pick Yasemin and I up to go to the park for the pics.

I have always been one of those people that is really nervous in new situations. I get almost panic attacks and don't sleep for days before something new like a new job or a meeting. I have actually been told that I am very relaxed in new situations like interviews and always do well but on the inside I am like a 4 year old going to school for the first time....I don't wanna gooooo! It is hard enough when it is in your own language and your own customs. I have face a whole new ballgame living in Turkey. Add my fear of meeting new people to a new fear of being a fool and not understanding something or saying something completely wrong. Yesterday was pure torture at the time.

We went to the park and all sorts of people that work with my husband and their wives or husbands came up and I was introduced and did the polite chat thing. I found myself looking like a total stepford wife. I was standing there smiling calmly and hardly talking at all. I didn't want to look a fool in front of my husband's friends and families. I wanted him to be proud of his wife and baby. Here I was panicking inside, wearing pantyhose and a girdle to hold in the 10 lbs of jelly-like baby weight around the middle that refuses to budge, and holding a smiling baby that is farting away in my arms. I felt frumpy, fat, and plain next to the skinny and long legged Turkish women. I told my husband about it last night as we snuggled on the couch and he basically said I was being silly and kissed me on the head. Back to the day...

They started rounding up the kids to take their pictures and what does my beautiful girl do? Falls right asleep on my shoulder about 1 minute before they start getting pictures. I didn't know what to do so the girl told me to just lay her on the grass.

She continued to sleep. Even after I straightened out her clothes and finally I picked her up. She woke up the second time I put her down and they got some decent shots of her. During this time I am wondering. This is for a toy company. Where are the toys? A lot of other parents are asking the same thing. Finally someone from the company comes and hands over a few rectangle wooden blocks. It looks like Jenga pieces. What the? Everyone says the same thing... What are those for? Where are the toys? The balls, the teddy bears? They continue to take a zillion pics and we all head back to the ad agency my husband works for. They are setting up the toys in a meeting room... Ohhh, ok. We go inside and inside the room, on a big table is a huge playground made out of thousands of those wooden blocks. The bigger kids go nuts trying to build things, and the girl is snapping away. Ok. I have a 6 month old in my arms and there is also her 7 month old boy equivalent. What are they gonna do? The photo girl looks and tells us to sit them on the table and hand them some of the blocks. I give Yasemin a few blocks and the first place they go is into her mouth. They got some pics of that and that was it. I heard that they will photoshop the pics. Wonder how it will go? I will try to get a copy on here when I get it.

After that, we went to dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant and then went for a walk and tea on the coast. It was a good day and I really don't know why I panicked for 2 days prior to it.

I had a good time and so did princess Yasemin. She was carried all over the place by different people who were showing her off and she even found a friend in the process.

We think that she thought it was a mirror and he just kept trying to kiss her. It was so cute. To everyone who says my girl is big: he is only one month older.

All the kids were so adorable.

Friends

Three years on....

I woke up in a foul mood. I have been so focused on planning out the day and I just wanted sleep. Yasemin felt it necessary to wake up 2 times before 5 and then after 5 to stay awake and make silly faces at me for 2 hours. I finally went back to sleep around 7 only to be woken up half an hour later by the harsh bedroom light as my husband shuffled around looking for socks and getting dressed. Bless his heart. He didn't deserve the sigh and grumbles I gave him as I pulled the comforter over my head. Then he leaned over and quietly asked me where the ATM card was. On the table, I snapped. He got his things together and went out to get me cash for the taxi. When he got back, I met him at the front window. He handed me the money and then said "Happy Anniversary, baby".

Dear God, I felt like an ass for the attitude I had shown him. I am always the one to remember as soon as I wake up what special day it is. How had I forgotten? Then he says to dress nice and we can go out to eat after he leaves work.

After he left, I thought back on our other 2 anniversaries. The first year I was in America and last year on this day, we were in the hospital. I was having a surgery to sew my cervix closed. It had been cut too short due to a surgery I had done back in 2003. The doctor was afraid I would lose the baby and I was already having bleeding and had been on bed rest earlier in the pregnancy. It was a scary time.

This year I had been hoping to find someone to take care of Yasemin for a few hours while we had a nice romantic dinner. You know the kind, where you get to eat together instead of one of us jumping up to walk her around. The trouble is that I don't have any family here and his family lives about an hour away. Our best friends moved to Switzerland a couple months back and there is no one else. Since she was born 6 months ago I have been without her once. Our friends got married in December when she was 5 weeks old and my husband's mom came and spent the night to look after her. We wanted to go out after the wedding but we were all too exhausted. Other than that she has been at my side.

Well, there is always next year. Happy Anniversary, my love.