Perhaps the beauty of mamahood is that one never does have enough peace of mind or just peace enough to ever write about it. The chaos of folding laundry over and over, picking up bottles, washing bottles, filling up bottles, warming up bottles, picking up toys, playing with toys, cooking, cleaning, reading the same cardboard books over and over, incessant planning, non-stop worrying, completing a Masters, working on a citizenship application, soothing a sick baby who caught a cold at his swimming lesson, taking baby to his swimming lessons every week, physical therapy for the yet-to-be-healed body from birth, trying to keep up with the remnants of a long-past social circle, evolving into new person oneself,
An African American male who looked slightly older than me was shooting daggers at me with his eyes. I figured it out because of the burning feeling you get when somebody has been staring at you too long. I looked up at him questioningly as I usually do when somebody is being that rude. In response, he left his seat and came and stood next to me still looking murderous. I have to admit that made me really nervous in my heart as I thought why on earth did I have to confront him etc etc. A minute passed. Him: You an African princess or somethin’? Me: Excuse me? Him: Nah, you too white for that. You are not Arab, are you? Me: No, I am not. But why does it matter? Him: Where you coming from? Me: Why? Him: No, Ah mean where you from? You looking like a princess or somethin’. Me: Is that a bad thing? Him: Are you a princess? Me: No. *trying to suppress my amused smile by this point - he looked like he wanted to choke me to death because I looked like a princess...
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