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Preview: The Fruit Basket

The Fruit Basket

Yes, yes. Another mommy blog. Queer,Araby, Femme & Feminist politics, occassional bad poetry and what else? A fruit fetish. See for yourself.

Updated: 2018-03-06T05:50:55.072+03:00


To remember


One of the things I hope I never forget is how Thumper loves "play dough surprise". We cook up the playdoh, form small balls, make a hole with my finger y drop food coloring in to the center. Then I close it up. He doesn't know which ball is which color y the color gets more distributed the more he plays. It is the simplest thing in the world y I always want to remember what a joyous kid he is.



Whirlpool. Cesspool.  Wordfool. Fulfill.  Falafel.  Waffle. Quaffle. 
Noise. Background.  Foreground.  Underground. All around. Basset Hound. Lost and Found. Lost is Found. Mapping sound. Sound. Soooouund.
Swipe. Swoop. Switch. Saw. Sound.
Sea. Swirl. Swill. Swan. Sound. Song.

Wordfool.  Woodtool. Toadstool. Toadstole. Thievery. Livery. Live very. Library.

This is just the start of probably nothing
Which is actually how anything always begins

Post-it moment #1


At a park in cool jackety weather. Lp comes running by as church bells sound. " do you hear the sweet bells of Texas? I love the sweet bells of Texas!"

this thing still on?




Scarred for life


Thumper is down for quiet time. Khubz is in full time kindergarten now (a whole separate blog). I go to take the longest, hottest shower of my life. I am pooped but it feels so good.

I finish, get dressed y consider a short nap (what a blissful thought.) I take two steps out of my steamy bathroom y jump back.

Thumper is sitting on the couch. He came out, saw I was in the shower y turned on the tv. Lucky us, it was the rerun channel y the current selection? Cops. Great. Cops.

Time to drop another quarter in his therapy fund. . .

Time to worry?


Scene: thumper is heading to time out after hurling his body repeatedly at Scully.
Khubz: Thumper!! Be gentle with mama! Be nice to her!! Because if you kill mama first then we'll never get a puppy because mommy is allergic!!!!



We have just finished getting the kids in bed.

Khubz had her birthday party today. Fairies. It was awesome.

A beautiful day in the park
hide handmade fairies in the woods
build and decorate your own fairy houses
line up in front of the pinata that khubz decorated herself
frolic on the playground in the sunshine
get your sparkle on with glitter on your eyes
gaze at the tia-lila-made clay fairy on the cupcake
excellent friends
marvelous family
explore the world of a woodland fairy

kind of day.

Total bliss.

I love my children.
I love my family and community and this day and moment forever and ever.

I love I love I love
this feeling of bliss
and love.

I love I love I love
watching a gaggle of cousins and friends race across the park green
the joyous study of possibility in the tall grasses
tromping across the bridge
the stand of mommies and mamas and tias and friends all watching
and watching out for all
these dazzling children

today was love
in glittering



Thumper's word for dental floss. I think it has something to do with the spearmint variety we recently got.

"I need some flossting!"

He loves to dangle it in his mouth with the sides hanging out. "I ama vampire!" And a minty fresh one at that.

Outside today


We are at the picnic table with watercolors y markers. Painting y storytelling.

I know for sure this is the finest stuff in life.

I should mention


That I am completely in love with my life.

And not the sexy kind


It turns out therapy is a drag. . .

My working metaphor


i'd rather something edgy:
fingernails or cleavage
or blossoms on a fig tree

not this.
i don't want this
running through
all my best stories y lies.

i don't want my working metaphor
to be my body
or invisibility
or skin or fat or size

don't want consumption
don't want eating
don't want to swallow
each emotion

don't want food

i do not
to feed
on this

but i
am a poet
& this is
the meal



it doesn't matter
if you say queer
or gay or femme
or dyke

i am not insecure
about who i love
or what that
makes me

my only anxiety
comes from your
silent assumptions

so sure
that all those words
you'd never use
don't apply

old tx seabed


my children's eyes
are full of fossils
on this ancient ocean floor

their pockets fill with
dust & dirt & rock
and the imaginings
of a vanished sea

nostalgic hijab


i miss the
tug & tuck
wrap, pull, down & around
no pins or clips but
practice, discipline, training
i miss the privacy
like a click of a closed door
the feeling that my body was
my own
& not
a public offering



I wrote the previous post out in a notebook before posting it bc I didn't have computer access.

This morning Khubz is flipping through the notebook (her tinkerbell notebook--how appropriate is that?) and finds my scrawl. "what is that?" she asks.

"it's mommy's." Scully simply replies.

"but what *is it??*"

"it's a poem. Mommy wrote a poem about who she is. "

"then why does it say, 'I really am a duck'?"

Scully bursts out laughing, compliments her reading skills y sends her off to me.

Now we have animal poems on our agenda for this morning.

It does make me love life a bit.

Shut the fuck up


I really am a dyke.

These posts are not full of girl-on-girl action, of heaving y licking y the occasional fist. Frankly, I wish there was more fruit here at the basket but I am a dyke who also needs to pay bills, pack tomorrow's lunch, argue with my partner y push the laundry off the bed so I can collapse.

And I really am an Arab.

I am pretty useless in my americanized, non-Arabic speaking way. I am not brown enough to be a collectible but my light skin y perfect English make me oh-so-approachable. My ethnic inheritance includes a load of anger, a suspicious name, fearful reverence of the evil-eye and poly cystic ovarian syndrome (the leading cause of infertility among Saudi women).

I never read the gaygirldamascus blog or the lezbireal site. My life is too messy to fulfill all the imaginings of racist boys bored with their own heterosexuality. They will surely continue jerking off to eachother while howling loudly about " not being taken seriously."

I will not compete with idiots y assholes about the glamor potential of my mis/representations.

I am busy carving out my actual existence.

Mommy, I love you more


Than a grass hopper loves grass!

Gift received From the big girl this afternoon to hold forever in my heart.

Need to know basis


> I don't need to know who
> And I don't need to know why
> But I would like to know how long
> How long was the slice of processed cheese stuck to the outside of our screen door before someone noticed? It looked like it may have wintered there.
> Additionally, how long was it there after someone noticed? How long did it stick there, willfully ignored, in the hopes that someone else would defend the dignity of our backdoor?

Need to know basis


I don't need to know who
And I don't need to know why
But I would like to know how long

How long was the slice of processed cheese stuck to the outside of our screen door before someone noticed? It looked like it may have wintered there.

Additionally, how long was it there after someone noticed? How long did it stick there, willfully ignored, in the hopes that someone else would defend the dignity of our backdoor?

Khubz wins a prize


For worst trip to the dentist ever. She is now asleep. She puked all over their carpeted reception area. Three times. She got puke all over her shirt y shoes. I took her to the bathroom to clean up y she left little vomit footprints the whole way. This happened right after we walked in the door. Before I could even give them her name. It was totally horrible. She felt much better after puking y wanted to stay so she cd get her teeth cleaned y get a new tbrush! I told her no. Really, it seemed like the only reasonable answer. I took her shirt off y wrapped my cardigan around her. Two receptionists were wearing masks y gloves y scrubbing up a lot of puke. It was disgusting. I want to take a tray of cookies or fruit or something in to them. I feel really bad. I don't know why puke is embarrassing but it is. They were so nice. I tried to clean it but they shooed me away with a "this happens more often than you might think".  I will think of that every time I see really ugly carpet at a dentist office. Ah, they're probably just planning ahead. There is apparently a stomach flu going round the preschool. Poor girl. When she said this morning that her tummy hurt I thought she was just nervous. One of these days I will learn to stop projecting![...]

My name keeps fucking up my whiteness


Scully & I were chatting about the events of the day and I said "but *I am* white for all intents & purposes. Its just that my name keeps fucking up my whiteness." She insisted that was the title of my next blogpost and here we are. It seems like too much to explain but the boat now tips towards public school rather than homeschool. So she is enrolled for the fall. I have filled out the piles of paperwork to document her age & existence. Then I get a phone call from the school district. They want Khubz to come in for a language assessment to see if she speaks english. Yep. English. Of course we think first of her race and name. In defense of the school district I did fill out a form that indicates I speak English, Scully speaks English and Spanish and Khubz speaks English with some receptive Spanish. So, in their defense, the word "Spanish" did appear on the language survey. I get a call from a woman and she starts by saying "oh. you sound like you speak very good english." Thanks, I reply. I would be pretty lost without it as it is the *only* language I speak. She tells me that because I indicated another language exists in our home (beyond what is spoken by Dora the Explorer) we need to come in for an assessment. It was a little funny. No, really. She's English speaking. I don't want to waste your time. Really.But she insisted that we have to do an assessment simply because the wheels were in motion. Then it was less funny but still frivolous. So we set up a time to drop by the school so Khubz could speak. Thumper is hanging out with Grandma. Khubz and I head off to the school. She is awed by the big-ness of the big-kid school. Awed into silence. I am not kidding. Absolute & total silence. The assessment starts with some challenging questions."what is your name?"Khubz looks at me.Can you tell them your name? I prod her. She shrugs. I look at her. Then she replies in her most heavily accented "G**********" ever. Then I ask her which nickname she prefers, Khubz or Khubzita. "KhubzITA" she offers, also in her best accent.And that was pretty much it. They'd show her a picture of a foot and ask what is it."foot" she'd mutter without moving her lips or looking at them."Can you use it in a sentence,honey? Can you say 'this is a foot'?" the woman asked."foot." she replied. At some point (in about the first 3 minutes) she wouldn't even look at the woman. She turned to me, pulled my skirt around her and hid. Every once in a while she would make eye contact with me. The woman would try to engage her and Khubz would look up at me and say (in her best 2 year old voice) "mmmmommmmy!" They started talking to me about ESL classes. I am not kidding.Of course I support ESL and she would likely have met some fabulous friends and maybe her spanish would have even improved. (as might her Croatian, Swedish and Urdu--this university attracts a lot of international students due to a low cost of living.) But she speaks English.I also never envisioned myself having to defend my kid's english. It is super weird to say "she speaks fluent english! put her in her proper place!!" But at the end of the day it is more weird to have my english-speaking child in an ESL class simply because she is shy and brown. It was a bit unbelievable. "She is reading! Books! And I read her chapter books--not picture books! She is verbose, for fuck's sake!" It was a good try on our part. Trying to sneak her in with the mainstream kids. But like a dash of coffee in the milk they spotted her[...]



Let's please all remember

when you talk about muslims
you are talking also about
those who kneeled in prayer before
water cannons
machine guns &
smoke bombs

And when you talk about america
please remember also
where the tanks come from

Bright shining son


There's tons of bright white snow everywhere. Thumper is squinting his eyes y keeps saying "it's too early!" which I think means bright. Makes me chuckle about how he made that connection. It's too early!!!!

3 guesses


"mommy. I need you to come here"

"what's up, honey?"

"um. I sneezed a big sneeze and now there is something on my shirt and I don't know what it is but I need you to get it off. Because it's gross. Yeah, mommy, really gross. Please come get it. Yechhh."