How to deal with inLaws

Today I am going to vent.
My sister in law has been in my house for the past 3 months. She is coming from the UAE with 3 of her kids to spend summer vacation. Nothing wrong with that. M'rahba like we say back home however, here is the complication.
List again :)

1. Her kids are not behaved. You will tell me they are kids. Well when you have her daughter calling me "mara" (woman) when she addresses me, I guess this is bad in any language.
2. Thet have a bad influence on my son. He is 2 and he picks up any word they say. you can imagine how mad I am
3. Her mother is a permanent resident of my house. I didn't say that. his mother lives with me. So the sis doesn't address me when she wants something, she goes to her mama. Imagine, all of a sudden I am invisible.

I am just tired tired and tired.

I need an advise. Should I talk to her or what should I do.

First Visit

December 19
A Letter to my Son: A conception

My baby it was with great joy I learnt you have chosen me to be your mother. On that beautiful night of August I heard you knocking at my door and to my great surprise I discovered you were there standing smiling upon me. Your Mother.
Thus started our great journey... One smile at a time. I have been waiting for so long. There were days where I lost complete hope, others where I had the energy to conquest the world for you. But now all is past, you are here. You and I one in this shell called love. United at last with the faithfully bond of destiny. Our love guided us to one another and we will get together to a safe shore. Our journey had just began.
Nine months my soul you have taken over me. I was the instrument to give you life. There were days where I could barely move, think but your gentle soul was always looking over me, giving me courage. One day, when you reached six month, you excitement to meet me became very noticeable and you were begging me to come out. I had to gently ask you to wait few more moons...
We spent endless night talking to one another. You discovered my voice and I your touch. Like a gentle guest you never hurt me. I talked to you about things I see, I feel and hope and you always listened to me patiently, you answered were few but I always heard you.
The Dr told me I should expect you on a beautiful Friday in May. That evening I waited patiently for a sign but you never gave me one, you were teasing me. I went for a long walk with the men of your tribe, we walked and walked to forget that the following day. My mother, your grandmother, came all the way from Morocco bringing tons of gifts. Her and I went through the same journeymany many years ago and now she came to hold our hands through this inititiation.
I woke up on Friday and there I got a sign, you were ready to come. I asked your baba to stay and help me, the three of us worked together and we welcomed you on May 20th at 12:06.
I just love you, you have tons of hair.
Mama

The Magic of Words

Arabs manifests the deepest respect and awe to Words. We are moved, transported by their power. While other take the brush to paint their feeling, the Arab take the words to create a world that encompassed all their past and future glories. That takes me to my favorite poet, Nizar Qabbani.
Nizar passed away a few years ago. He is from this generation which was able to raise above all the difficulties of their time, full of hope and enthusiasm, the man made borders and frontiers disappears at their contact. Citizen of the Arab world. Nizar was born a Syrian (my son's country), adopted Lebanon and loved Baghdad (our beloved). His poetry is a brise in the sky. From adoring women to oblivion, to loving his land to death, Nizar teach us form the grave that we still have hope, if only we can respect the word. His poetry is very controversial in our land, where women are considerate too precious to be courted in public. Nizar broke this taboo and talks to his beloved with the sweetness of the lover, praising her as mother, a companion and friend. Nizar is ageless. The rhythm of his words take you to a world where everything is simple and pure. Here is one of my favorite. (Better when read in Arabic)

When I love you

When I love you

A new language springs up,New cities, new countries discovered.

The hours breathe like puppies,Wheat grows between the pages of books,Birds fly from your eyes with tiding of honey,Caravans ride from your breasts carrying Indian herbs,

The mangoes fall all around, the forests catch fire

And Nubian drums beat.
When I love you your breasts shake off their shame,

Turn into lightning and thunder, a sword, a sandy storm.

When I love you the Arab cities leap up and demonstrateAgainst the ages of repression

And the agesOf revenge against the laws of the tribe.

And I, when I love you,March against ugliness,Against the kings of salt,

Against the institutionalization of the desert.

And I shall continue to love you until the world flood arrives;I shall continue to love you until the world flood arrives.

So Many Things Have Happened Since the Last Time I posted

It is so nice to be back and posting. Not that I blog so often :)
I am good at making lists, so here you go:

1. I started a new job with a Fortune 50 company and I am so excited about that
2. I still can't get pregnant
3. I am taking Acrylic painting lessons: my first painting sucks, my second is great because my son seems to love it.
4. I have read 3 books: Brida (Paul Coelho), People of the Books ( Geraldine Brooks), Hakawaty (Rabih Alamedine)
5. My in-laws are still besieging my house
6. I lost weight ( 3 kilos) still need more
7. I am still dealing with my mood swings

That's it

I am planning on revamping my blog and having a new section labelled: Letters to my son.

Will see

Much love to you guys