Dearest Zoe.

Today has been a hard day. I fought valiantly. I gave it my all. I warred with all my might.

My might obviously isn’t mighty enough.

You won every fight. Hands down. No arguments there.

I lost and there is no shame in it. I lost miserably, but I lost to you – my dearest. And though I’m clutching dearly to my threadbare sanity, I will live. To fight another day.

You may kick and scream and throw yourself violently to the hard- tiled floor like you did today. You may survive on just four strawberries and two morsels of rice for a day. But remember my dear, your Mama is trying her best. She is only trying to do what she thinks is good for you. Who knows, maybe she is right, maybe she is not. Just give her the benefit of the doubt please.

I’m not sure how your almost brand new brain processes emotions. But I’m assuming you don’t take things to heart.

You surely do not. Otherwise you wouldn’t throw a hundred watt smile my way the minute you wake from your nap. A nap that was induced by relentless crying for something that you could never have. A nap before which I yelled at you. Literally. And told you in very forceful tones that you cannot always have your way.

If you were anything like an adult, you would despise me. For all the rules. The discipline. The number of times I say NO. You would probably be plotting ways of running away. Or better still, of taking control of Mama.

Thankfully, you are not. You are but a two year old. Vivacious, sassy and incorrigibly adamant. I wish I had half the fight you have. I would breeze through my days if I did!

For all the times I say no, and for all the times I stop you from being yourself,  forgive me. I am just a frail and emotion- ruled mama who is trying to get through her day.

I see how important it is for you to clean the toilet seat with your toothbrush, and how wonderful the table salt looks, strewn decoratively on the leather sofa. (Like snowflakes on the tarmac perhaps).

I secretly admire your sheer guts in trying on my 4 inch heels and then climbing the bed with them on. When you manage to wiggle and contort yourself out of your shoulder straps of the car seat, even after I have tightened them to the point where you can barely fill your lungs fully; I am flabbergasted. I am also amazed at your sheer will and tenacity.

Disregard my reproaches and calls to slow down, my child. Forget all the inhibitions and doubts I unconsiously instil within you.

My fears are my own, and they should not be yours too. My failings and insecurities should not be your burden to bear.

When the time comes, spread your wings and fly my dear, as high as you can. As high as you want to. Remember that the sky is truly the limit.

Let no one, including  this silly Mama of yours, tell you what you are capable of. Let no one dictate what you can and cannot do. Heed my advice, but do not be a slave to them.

Remember one thing if that is all you remember. Despite all your quirks and idiosyncrasies, irrespective of your shortcomings and occasional disobedience; I shall love you. Unconditionally.

I shall be there, whenever you need/ want/ wish for me. And I shall find an inconspicuous corner for myself, and be out of sight, when you don’t need me to be hovering over you. I shall try.

For now, all I ask of you is to eat three decent meals a day, and help me keep yourself injury- free and alive. (Hint- climbing to the head rest of the couch and jumping off is not a good idea.)

 

Yours truly.

Haggard Mama.

 

 

The one that stayed on.

This is going to be a lazy post. I am post- call and should ideally be sleeping. But the nursery run is in about an hour, and trying to get some shut eye now would be an utterly worthless exercise. I therefore decided to log on to the virtual world and say hello to the part of humanity that I have not had contact with for a while now.

How are you folks doing? The heat killed anyone yet?

Personally, I am not a fan of the dull, muggy weather that is doing business outside right now. I saw daylight today after a more than 24 hours, and this is not the weather I wished for. The natural light is inconsistent and therefore I shall use that as an excuse to not get my bottom off the couch and get some decent pictures of the stuff that I’m going to talk about today.

Here’s the deal people, I just got off a 30 hour shift and honestly cannot be bothered about impressing you folks with my virtually non- existent photography skills. So I shall be a lazy bum and use stock images. Deal.

Yesterday morning, on a whim, I decided to test something.


The longevity and performance of my current favourite foundation.*

* under extreme conditions


 

I would not use a heavy- duty foundation on a call day usually, but this was an experiment. So, I went ahead and piled on the stuff with a damp Beauty Blender at 0525 hours yesterday. This is the war- paint am referring to-

estee lauder

 

I hate that it doesn’t come with a pump and I have to bother with the extra step of washing the back of my hand everyday. But apart from that grouse, I love this foundation for all the lovely things it brings to the table. The coverage, the finish, the sheer ability to not budge from where it was applied to…

I went about my call- day as usual. Running around, rounds, seeing new cases, admitting some, discharging many, going to the OR, post- op rounds, taking power naps whenever I could. I wore a mask for several hours too. But there was negligible transfer, almost zero shine (till about 0200 hours this morning) after almost 18 hours and the darned thing stayed put till the end. Dare I say, I’m mighty impressed.

It might sound gross when I say I wore this for over 24 hours (even slept!), but kindly give me some credit for the research spirit please.

I finally could not take the icky feeling anymore and washed it all off and went barefaced at around 0630 hrs this morning. 25 hours after I put it on, it was still almost 90% effective. It truly is “stay-in-place” make-up. Bravo!

The shade range that this comes in is worthy of praise, and compared to some other “high-end” foundations that I own, this isn’t that heavy on the pockets. The finish (in my opinion) is best when the foundation is applied with a barely damp Beauty Blender (versus fingers, brushes and dry sponges). It kind of sets/ sticks onto your face in a couple of minutes after you put it on and then does not budge. The downside to this, is the slightly “clogged” feeling that I cannot quite describe in words. The foundation looks great in person, but you definitely “feel” it on your skin. If piled on, or not blended properly, it can definitely look cakey.

In short, despite it’s shortcomings, I now understand why this one is a bestseller. Someday soon I shall do a post on all the fancy foundations I own/ use but for now I can tell you that this one ranks right up there. For sure.

What are your war- paints of choice ladies?

Till next time,

Dr J.

 

P.S. I should ideally be putting up before and after pictures of my visage for such a post- but let’s just say I’m camera shy shall we 🙂

Beware, rant ahead.

This is going to be a pure, unadulterated, aimless little rant. I can promise you that!

I have been busy (what’s new you may ask), but to spice things up, I have been busy and sick. Yes, the most wonderful way to live- sickness and lack of rest. So, I’m coming on here today to vent and whine. Bear with me, will you.

First off, let’s begin with my biggest woe in life. Picking up.

Picking up? You may ask.

Yes.

Picking up people from places.

Picking up the groceries.

Picking up the dry cleaning/ laundry.

Picking up new shoes for the little one.

Picking up toys that are relentlessly thrown onto the floor.

Picking up the crumbs from the floor, that will magically appear again in a few minutes after you last picked them up.

Picking up used diapers, left on the floor/ sink/ tub/ bed/ countertop…. wherever it was last changed (depending on when and by whom).

Picking up bits of tissue.

Picking up the garbage.

Picking up dishes after dinner/ lunch/ tea.

Picking up the damned phone which usually rings at the most inopportune moments.

Picking up oneself post physical and mental ailments and setbacks.

The picking up doesn’t end. Ever. And I despise the act.


Now let us talk about my best friend, and accomplice in all my adventures here in Qatar. My Car.

Last week was an epic one, in terms of hours lost, calories spent explaining matters to people who refused to understand and number of trips made to different parts of the city (nay, country) to fix up a couple of dents and bruises that I inflicted on the poor thing a couple of weeks ago.

Police station A, Police station B, then back to A a couple more times.  Authorised Service Centre, insurance office, showroom, insurance office, random garage, back to Police Station A, then again random garage…. the story is ongoing.

The saga is yet to end, for my dear one is still at the “hospital” waiting to be fixed. And here I am, lonely, crippled and at the mercy of whimsical, fickle minded Uber drivers who cancel on me at peak hours. Poor Mr H, is now on double pick- up duty and is praying as fervently (maybe more!) as I am for the hasty return of my hunky- beast machine.

The Car holds a special place in my current life. It is more than just an automobile, to take me from point A to B. It is my thought chamber, my music box, my pensive. A place to destress, rewind and re-coup from the war wounds that are inflicted upon us by life. A place to hide from people and responsibilities. A place to grab a quick nap when the on call- rooms are full. A place to brush my hair and do my face up before walking in to a presentation. A place where I don’t have to pretend or be anything other than what I truly am. A place where I can listen to the same song on loop for days, without the fear of being judged as uncool. A place where I can keep the air- conditioning at exactly the temperature that I want to. No compromises. No disturbances. I can’t wait for it to be back.


On a more positive note, and especially of interest to the ladies who are reading this. I think I may have found The Foundation. The One. Just maybe. The 16 hour wear, no smudge, no budge, like- skin yet not skin foundation that does not look cakey or too made- up. Yes. I might have. Will tell you all about it soon. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves 🙂

And yes, I forgot to mention- my sickness was this little thing called pneumonia 🙂 🙂

Till next time.

J.