AbezAbez Is... 50% White, 50 % Pakistani, Muslim Hijab-wearing type female, Daughter of Momma, Sister of Owlie Wife of HF, Momma of Khalid, a special little boy with Autism, and Iman, a special little girl with especially big hair, Writer, Graphic Designer, Editor, Freelancer, Blogger, Inhaler of Chocolate
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My sister, De Owl

My Husband, who never updates!

Mona, who I don't visit enough

Hemlock, who I don't hug enough

Baji, the orginal robot monkey pirate

Prometheus, who buts brains to blog about Autism

Socrates, a blogger with Asperger's

Jo, a funnier Autism mom with a great blog

Autism Watch-  for logic-based information

ASAT- Assosciation for Science in Autism Treatments

Quack Watch- for current news and info on all sort of medical treatments

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My Cousin- really, he's my cousin.  Wish he would update more.


Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Suggardh with a capital Sugg


Being a sensitive technical procedure, pancake production can be adversely affected by multiple factors- the size of the pan, the size of the burner beneath the pan, the type of the spatula, and the qualification of the pancake engineer. It is therefore necessary to generate a few pre-meal proto-types- a few little ones to account for such factors as well as fine-tune the heat of the griddle, the amount of baking powder necessary for desired fluffiness, etc.


I used up most of my batter on experimental and geographical-looking pancakes.

There was only one truly round, truly ideal pancake, and it was the last one. It came off the griddle just as my sleepy-faced husband made it to the table last.

"Sweetheart, I made pancakes. Yours is the one not shaped like Mississippi."

(shhh! I think they're getting used to how weird I am.)

Heh. I am so not a proper bahu. (daughter-in-law) I haven't been living here in Husbandland for more than five days and already I've regressed to jeans and a kurta. And two of Monkey's hairclips. (Zeba Mami, put it the clips!)

Over the last few days we've been slowly evicting HF from the wardrobe and replacing his nicely folded shirts with my duds and ducky PJ's. Today I finally finished unpacking the two suitcases I brought with me, and as I stood surveying the crammage, it occurred to me that I owned way too much junk for my wardrobe space. Which is why I should start getting rid of some of my husband's clothes, mwahaha.

Ok, seriously though. Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah. Here's the deal, yo. I miss ma homeez, I miss my Dad, I miss my Mommasita, I miss my Owlie-face like nobody's business. But I also love being with my charming HF, and his family is sweet, and lil Monkey brings light and innocence and a squeaky giggle to a situation that is getting easier as the days go by.

Love to ma Monkey-Pirates,



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