So, here’s the thing … I have had about a dozen jobs: media expert, journalist, human rights activist, cat watcher, editor, and even life coach (for about 3 minutes), but throughout my life I’ve looked for the magic and humor in every minute.
My dad, a Palestinian refugee started me on this path by urging me to eat wasabi as if it were avocado. And throughout my varied careers, writing has always been my thing. I have a million notebooks, each bristling with 1,000s of Post-Its. I love lists and capturing moments so I write in my kid’s journals about their latest tantrums, object they’ve stuck up their noses and latest bowel movement adventure every morning and night (before dance-off time).
So, here I am, spending my savings (and my husband’s) writing books about finding magic.
When I was pregnant I wanted to read a book about all the uncomfortable truths, to know that my bizarre stuff was normal and to sidestep the endless advice with a double hit of laughter. So I’m writing the book I longed for during my Preggo journey and into the first year of mommyhood. I post, tweet and insta like I know what I’m doing, interview mamas with a hiccup (because every mama has a hiccup), and pour my funny guts into my non-fiction humorous parenting book.
Is that ALL you say?
Yea, no, I also have plans to start a different from the mommy coffee mornings I’m allergic to. Two words: kir royales and karaoke.
Really, I’m just keen to share, and I want to hear from you. This blog is the two of us sitting down, ordering coffee, one of us not liking our coffee and sending it back, then more coffee comes over, plus free smoothies, and maybe some mini burgers followed by some rosé wine… and before we know it we have matching tattoos that read, “Where’s my damn wand?”. The before we know it we are braiding each other’s hair, and have pinkie promised to name our next children after each other. THAT’S the level of engagement I’m going for.
As Leonard Cohen said, “There is a crack … a crack in everything, but that’s how the light gets in.” Incidentally, that’s also how the baby vomit you catch in your hands leaks out. TMI?
Together, we’re going to fight the breakdowns, laugh at the breakthroughs, and make sense of this beautiful, magical, manageable mess.