Meatloaf

When Baba Sanfour and I first got married, I really didn't know how to cook. I went from living at home with my mom, to a college dorm, to being married. I could bake cookies, cakes and pies all day long, but that didn't help us out very much when it came time for dinner. Luckily, Baba Sanfour knew how to cook, as he'd been living on his own for a few years before we got married. He's actually pretty talented when it comes to cooking and has taught me a thing or two about it. I've seen my mom look into an empty cabinet and fridge and somehow produce a delicious dinner. I was shocked when I learned that Baba Sanfour could do the same thing. I couldn't let everyone in my life out stage me in the kitchen, so I finally decided that I'd have to set aside my brownie pan and figure out how to cook dinner.

I've tried tons recipes that I've found online and learned how to make several different American dishes and even a few Moroccan specialities. Baba Sanfour is generally pretty open about trying new foods, but he definitely enjoys the more exotic flavors of moroccan cuisine. So I was shocked when he absolutely adored the meatloaf that I made a few weeks ago. It doesn't get more American than meatloaf, so I was even more surprised when Baba Sanfour took a package of ground beef out of the freezer friday night and asked, "can you cook the thing you made last time?"

"Which one?" I asked.

"You know, that yummy thing you made."

"With ground beef?" I scratched my head, "What was it?"

"The thing with the cheese," he urged.

"Meatloaf?" I asked.

"That's it!"

I shrugged and told him that I'd be happy to, still a bit puzzled by his enthusiasm for the classic American dish. He never fails to surprised me. But that's just one more thing I love about him.

So Happy I Married an Optimist

My text to him: It's chilly today. I thought it was gonna be warm like yesterday.

His Response: Spring is coming soon just be patient!

We Went Bowling. Sort of.

Saturday night Baba Sanfour and I decided to go bowling. He's only ever been once and we've never gone bowling together. In preparation for our big night out I packed glittery colors onto my eyelids and donned the perfect bowling outfit while Baba Sanfour dabbed on his cologne and put on his jacket. We finally arrived at the bowling alley to find a gigantic line of people waiting at a collapsable table. After shifting through the crowd of people we finally discovered that the line was for some strange gambling-like bowling competition that the alley holds every Friday and Saturday night.

"So, what if we just want to do regular bowling?" I asked the obviously preoccupied woman at the desk.

"It already ended," she replied.

"So there's no way that we can just play a regular round of bowling?"

"No," she scowled.

Defeated, Baba Sanfour and I whimpered as we walked out the door of the bowling alley and back to the car.

"What do you wanna do?" He asked.

"I don't know. I just wish they had regular bowling," I sighed, "I've never been to a bowling alley that does this weird gambling thing. We don't have this in Georgia! Do you know of any other bowling alleys around?"

"I don't know."

We finally resolved to call 411 to find another bowling alley nearby. The operator gave us the phone number and address and called the bowling alley to get directions. We arrived at bowling alley number 2 at around 9:45 at night, only to be greeted by an exceptionally full parking lot. After hunting down a spot (I'm good at this- I work at the mall!) we jumped out of the car and scurried inside. We were initially impressed with the atmosphere. This alley was significantly cleaner and nicer looking than bowling alley number 1, and actually looked like a lot more fun. We stood in line at the counter only to learn that there was an hour wait for an open lane. At this point we were both ready to drop a bowling ball on our big toes.

We reevaluated once again and finally decided that we would stop by the movie theater. However, on the way to the theater we decided to stop at the drugstore, which led to a trip to the grocery store, which finally led to the movie rental shop, which eventually ended with us sitting on the couch watching a movie and eating cookies that we happened to get for free at the grocery store because they were price marked incorrectly. Whew! So, date night didn't quite end up where we expected, but at least it was an adventure getting there!

Baba Sanfour

My husband's nickname for this blog came about quite surprisingly. Since he is from Morocco and our cultures are so different, we are always excited to find commonalities from childhood that we can relate to. While my husband didn't grow up on as many Disney movies as I did, we did watch some of the same television shows, like Scooby Doo and Tom and Jerry. One night, after reminiscing with an American friend about the old show, David the Gnome, I decided to ask my husband if had ever seen it. Well, that didn't work out so well as I found myself trying to describe what a gnome is, which is actually quiet difficult.

After stumbling over my explanation of gnome, my husband explaimed, "Baba Sanfour?!?"

"I don't now. Is that what it's called?" I asked.

"Yes, yes," he said with twinkling eyes as he reminisced about his childhood.

The next day I decided to further investigate Baba Sanfour with a quick google search. I pulled up a picture and leaned over to my husband and asked if the little blue cartoon was indeed the Baba Sanfour that he was talking about.

"Baba Sanfour!" he pointed to the computer screen and smiled.

"Oh," I said, "That's not David the gnome. That's Papa Smurf."

"Papa Smurf?" he asked, "You mean you guys stole Baba Sanfour from us?"

"No!" I winced defensively, "I think Morocco stole it from us!"

Well, it turns out the original idea for Papa Smurf, or Baba Sanfour, came from a comic from Belgium. But despite his origins, Baba Sanfour has definitely given us both something to smile about as we relate our childhood lives to each other. And we can't wait to see the new Smurf movie coming out later this year!

Don't Freeze the Cream Cheese

Since we've been married, Baba Sanfour and I have learned several lessons about life. For instance, last year we learned how to turn off the water in our apartment after about 20 minutes of frantically screaming and scooping up water as our kitchen flooded when the hot water heater busted. Two weeks ago I learned to always make sure that the stove burners are off after melting a huge plastic bag filled with shredded cheese. And yesterday we learned that freezing cream cheese is not the best idea. After a bulk grocery adventure, we decided to put the extra packs of cream cheese in the freezer to save for later. Well, later came and now we have cream cheese that resembled snow powder. It's still edible, but I make quite a mess in the morning when I'm trying to spread powder cheese on to my bagel before rushing out the door to get to school.

Buying in Bulk

Baba Sanfour recently discovered the advantages of buying in bulk at our local food club. Growing up, my family of five used to make an entire afternoon of shopping for industrial-sized groceries. While we were there we'd check out the tables of folded clothes, explore the aisles of television sets and other electronics, but most notably, beg our parents for a gigantic box of cookies, all before finding our dad stocking up on Santa-sized sacks of chocolate bars in the candy aisle. We'de usually finish off the occasion with a slice or two of Pizza that awaited us just beyond the checkout. Now Baba Sanfour and I have carried on this great tradition with slightly more moderation. And since there're only two of us living in our small apartment, our bulk purchases can be a bit troublesome. I've tried fitting 100 rolls of toilet paper under our bathroom sink, only to find that less than a quarter will fit. We've struggled to figure out where to put the seven other packs of cream cheese, turkey and sliced cheese and still have room in the fridge for milk. And our kitchen sink is well supported by the Swiffer pads and trash bags that are stacked in the cabinets. But at least we'll be prepared for shopping for a family someday, right?

Our First House

Baba Sanfour and I decided to build a gingerbread house on Sunday night. It was his first time building one and I could tell he was excited about the prospect of an edible home. I even told him the story of Hansel and Gretel to further enhance our gingerbread experience. Before we began he leaned over and asked with a grin, "Do you have a license? You have to have a special license to build a house, you know."

Looking back on the results, I think he was right. We are two adults, and this was the product of our gingerbread building and decorating skills put into action. Oh, and Baba Sanfour did the side with the waves. A very creative move on his part.

Seeing Ourselves

Yesterday was my first day back at school after the winter break. I balance between school and a retail job, which definitely makes things interesting, especially since we cater mostly to tourists. I wasn't really looking forward to working all that much last night, but I'm so glad that I did. I've had the opportunity to interact with so many different families from around the world and I've just about seen it all. From the kind, considerate and familiar to the rude, disgusting and even scary. But last night left me loving my job as a nine year old girl from Mexico and her father walked into our store, distraught by the lack of options for clothes for her to wear. She was nine, but she was wearing a size 14 in kids clothing, which is generally reserved for older girls (although I think it's quite normal for children to be wearing larger sizes this day and age). They walked around the store for a few minutes, selecting clothes, when she finally walked up to me and bravely asked for a fitting room. I was amazed by her humble confidence. She had been learning English from her dad and was doing a great job! I'm often intimidated to use the Spanish that I've learned in school for fear embarrassment, but this little girl pushed through those fears and stole my heart at the same time.

While she was trying on outfits, her father pulled me aside to tell me what a hard time she's been having because of her size. She was tall and healthy and yet felt so different from the other kids at school because she couldn't fit into the same size clothes as everyone else and had a slightly fuller middle. My heart sank as he explained this to me as I went through the exact same anxiety as a child. I was taller than the other kids, but also much more chubby. I was trying to find clothes in my mom's closet in elementary school because kids clothes didn't fit me anymore. I've since gotten over these issues, but still carry the weight (no pun intended) of that insecurity into adulthood. I saw her come out with a look of pure joy when one top fit and then a look of devastating disappointment when the pants didn't. I saw so much of myself in that bright little girl, who so sweetly spoke to me in a language she was still struggling to master. I quickly reevaluated and found some different options that would be more comfortable for her to wear and her reaction made me so happy to be there to serve her. The smile on her face as she looked at herself in the mirror and then at her father was contagious and I couldn't help but feel triumphant with her.

For the few minutes that this family was in my life, I was able to learn so much. As people I think we often downplay our role in society. I've found myself so many times saying that I can't wait until I graduate and find a better job where I can really contribute to people in a meaningful way. But last night taught me how everyone, despite how insignificant our positions may seem, can make an impact on others, simply by relating our human experiences. For a few moments I was able to look back and see myself in that little girl. What a joy it is to discover the lessons that the world has to offer, and an even greater joy to share them with children

Pumpkins and Snowmen

I love living in Florida because of the weather. Although the last two winters have been rather cold, I can still appreciate the more tropical climate. However, I do sometimes miss the seasons that Atlanta provided, especially fall. A few months ago I was pining for a trip to the pumpkin patch and a pumpkin to sit in my living room and remind me of fall. One night as Baba Sanfour and I were at home together I looked up at the clock and exclaimed, "It's 11:11, make a wish!"

Baba Sanfour popped his head out from the other room and smiled, "I wish for pumpkins."

"Oh, me too," I sighed, "Can we go to the pumpkin patch?"

"You want to go to the pumpkin patch?"

I pouted in hopes of a promise to the pumpkin patch when all of a sudden he declared "Look, our wish came true!" as he walked into the living room holding three little pumpkins. My eyes lit up and my jaw dropped.

This was truly one of the sweetest things that Baba Sanfour has ever done for me. It was simple, but really meant that he had been listening to me. And whenever I get frustrated or upset, I just think about the pumpkins and it makes everything better. With these three little pumpkins bringing so much joy into my life for the fall, I decided to turn them into a wintery centerpiece yesterday.

And thus, my pumpkins transformed into...drumroll please...a snowman! and with all the wintery weather in my home state of Georgia lately, he seems very appropriate.

Oprah Speaks Spanish

For about the first year and a half of our marriage Baba Sanfour and I went without television. Our apartment complex doesn't offer basic services and we couldn't afford cable or satellite, so we lived disconnected from televised news, sitcoms and most devastatingly, "The Oprah Winfrey Show." We still can't bring ourselves to add the expense of cable, but on New Years Eve Baba Sanfour set up a beautiful little antenna that's mounted on our patio and runs a wire into our apartment, offering about about 40 or so channels. Although half of those channels are either religious and Spanish language, the one that I was most excited about was ABC. As he was setting up the antenna I quickly ran through my schedule for the week and determined that I would be able to watch "Oprah" four out of five days of the next week.

Monday came and I waited anxiously until 4:00 when I ran to the TV and flipped through the channels until I reached the magic number, channel 9. As it sunk in my eyes glossed over with amazed disappointment and confusion. Oprah was talking about O.J. Simpson in Spanish. While I was frustrated that I couldn't hear the Oprah that I know and love, I was quite surprised that the interpreter's voice had an uncanny resemblance to Oprah's poignant, booming sound. I finally determined that the strange phenomenon must be related to the birds that have been falling out of the sky. That is, until I discovered the SAP button on the remote.