Writer's Workshop - The Best Part of My Day

The best part of my day is.....

6:30am
The boys have gone for the day

The housekeeper isn't in yet.

This is my time.

Me time.

The best part of my day.

My smoothie is ready

The iPad is charged.

Find my spot on the sofa

And get lost in the words.

This is my time.

Me time.

The best part of my day.

I have my headphones on
No One Direction
No Who
It's my music
This is my time.
Me time.
The best part of my day.

No one needs breakfast
Or lunch to be made.
Laundry is on
And no one is home.

This is my time.
Me time.
The best part of my day.

Then it's 8:30
and my day now begins.
Time to hit the gym,
study,
fetch Ethan
and it becomes his time.
Ethan's time.
Ethan's part of my day.

Expat Problems

A few years ago,

a mate and I were chatting

about some of the funny things our kids do.

And not just funny kid things,

but funny expat things.

We noticed how there were certain things

others never understood about us

and our lives.

For example,

I buy carrots and my housekeeper will wash and chop them.

Am I spoilt?

Probably.

But I prefer to think of it as 

I'm an expat.

After this conversation,

we chatted how we needed a group.

You know,

a support system.

One of those dark basements

where we share our secrets

and we all understand each other.

I use to joke that we needed an

Expat Anonymous group.

I would often share my 

Expat Anonymous stories.

And then I stopped.

Last week,

I tweeted my pet peeve:

when the gym doesn't have any towels.

It was pointed out to me

that this was a 

#firstworldproblem

And I agreed.

Yesterday I tweeted I had lost my

blue eyeliner

and yes, 

I do realise it's a first world problem as well.

But then I wondered?

If it a first world problem

or an Expat problem?

If I were in Canada and lost my blue eyeliner

I could hit the mall and buy a new one.

But here?

Where on earth will I get another MAC eyeliner from?

Yes my housekeeper washes my veggies.

Yes I have a driver.

Yes I spend my mornings at the gym

and go for lunches with mates.

But I also go hours,

sometimes days with no power.

I have to hit 3 different shops

to get everything I need to make dinner.

So maybe my problems are not

first world problems.

They are Expat Problems.

Because,

ladies and gentlemen,

my name is Tima

and I'm an Expat!

He Treated Her Better Than Anyone

He Treated Her Better Than Anyone

He treated her better than anyone

And she had the marks to prove it.

He treated her better than anyone

Which is why he called her stupid.

He treated her better than anyone

He would remind her with each blow.

He treated her better than anyone

He would yell at her so.

He treated her better than anyone

Her friends all thought she was lucky.

He treated her better than anyone

After all, he did think she was pretty.

Then one day, she grew strong 

She grew bold

She learnt to move on.

She deserved to be treated better than that.

She deserved to feel loved 

To feel safe 

To be hugged.

She deserved to be happy 

To be wanted 

To be classy.

She deserved to be treated better than that.

She learnt she was smart, 

Had a worth, 

Had a heart.

She learnt she deserved to be treated better than that.

It was her brother who 

Helped her see that.

Emma's War - Deborah Scroggins

Back in October,
our IB English teacher
arranged for Emmaunel Jal to visit our school.
He did some workshops with the middle
and secondary students.
Then he held a concert
along with some Zambian artists
and students from the school.

Not knowing a whole lot about him,
I googled him and found the following TedTalk.
I cried.
Even today,
every time I hear the song Emma
I cry.
I wanted to take Ethan to see his concert.
Ethan sat up front with his mates.
He even got on stage and danced with him.

Meanwhile, I sat with my mate,
watched
and cried some more.
It was then she asked me if I had read the book about Emma.
There's a book about Emma?
I need to read this!
The next morning,
before school began,
I bugged her about the book
and quickly purchased it on my Kindle.

This is a book about Emma
and the war in Sudan.
It's a tough read.
It's a long read.
But it's worth reading.

Writer's Workshop - Punched

Write a post inspired by the word: punched 

Punched

He did not always punch her

At least not with his fists

His words hurt just as bad

The scars still exist.

She began to question herself

Her choices and her worth

He held a lot of power over her

And she could not feel worse.

Soon she found her strength

And she found her voice

No longer would she be made to feel small

And her friends rejoiced.

He did not always punch her

At least not with his fists

His words hurt just as bad

The scars still exist.

Comfort Zone

I have never considered myself to be an 

introvert.

I like being surrounded by people.

I love meeting new people.

I love sharing stories.

I like being liked.

Then, about a year ago,

I was told by,

not one,

but two people

that I'm a very loud person.

And the way they said it

wasn't as a compliment.

In fact, 

one day, 

I was quite upset and unusually quiet.

I got told by one of them

how much they appreciated my quietness.

So...

I was being told

I'm not appreciated for who I am.

The other person who made the 

loud comment

made me feel like I was not liked.

That my friends were not really my friends.

That the people I liked and trusted

did not like and trust me.

I never realised the effect that has had

until now.

This weekend,

Ethan was feeling sad.

He commented that some boys at school

were calling him names.

He expressed how he was being made to feel

dumb

stupid

unworthy.

I went to see the school councilor today

and we chatted about how Ethan has adjusted.

Since moving here,

Ethan has had a few playdates.

But none with his own classmates.

And part of that reason,

is I need to make an effort.

I have been thrown out of my comfort zone.

This usually loud and friendly person

is terrified of meeting new people.

And because I'm nervous about leaving

my comfort zone,

Ethan hasn't had any playdates with his classmates.

So...

it is time for Tima to return.

We're in a new city,

a new country.

Tima is loud.

She is friendly.

She drinks coffee

and shares stories.

And she is about to make some calls

and organise some playdates.

Wish me luck!

Writer's Workshop - Lost

Write a post inspired by the word: lost

Lost

He got lost

In her eyes

When he was just six years old.

And it took him 20 years

To find his way back.

Over the years

As their friendship grew,

He would find himself

Lost in her smile.

They would spend hours on the phone

Talking about nothing important.

And he would find himself

Lost in her voice.

But as they grew

Their lives took them on different paths

And now he would find himself

Lost without her.

College, marriage and children

His life went on

But he knew something was missing

He was lost.

Then one day

He found her

And he knew what he had lost.

It was not the minutes, hours

Days, weeks or years

It was his heart and soul.

He was just six years old

When he lost his heart to this little girl

And though he’s found her

His heart still belongs to her.

But at least he’s not lost 

Anymore.

Writer's Workshop - New Year

How did you bring in the New Year?

Last year we brought in the New Year

in New York.

So how does one top that?

You don't!

You just bring it on!

We spent NYE

back in Dar

unsure what we were going to do. 

That's where great mates come to the rescue.

Friends of ours have 3 kids.

And they weren't keen on doing something

that meant being away from the kids

for the entire evening.

So they decided to have a little get together at their place.

The kids would have a Wii Dance party

and we would relax.

Well, 

apparently the Wii party

was for all ages.

After we were exhausted from dancing,

and sweaty,

the kids watched a movie

and we went to sit on her roof top

enjoying some wine.

Last year,

Ethan fell asleep before midnight.

This year he was up.

But fireworks were banned in Tanzania

so at midnight we streamed the fireworks from

Sydney, Japan and Dubai!

Oh, 

and we had a little sparkle.

And the kids got some 

non-alcoholic bubbly.

And while it was a quieter NYE

it was perfect.

Just perfect.