7 ways your Arab mom made you fearless

After my first break up, I was completely and utterly heartbroken and over-dramatic. You know, the kind of break ups you see in the movies. I had no other way to feel. I was young and foolish at the time.

After crying for hours in my room, my mom walks in and tells me, in a deadpan voice, "This is going to happen a million times, get over it, and move on."

It was the last thing I wanted to hear at the time, but you know what, I carry it with me into every mmm...emotional adventure I go on. It's definitely made my thin thicker. 

With all these supermoms running around, working full-time jobs, taking care of their children and the household, while also going to the gym, you might start to feel a little well...like an underachiever! 

And if you're not feeling guilty, well supermom has time for another job.

"Albi, don't you want to start hitting the gym? You're starting to gain a little weight," Mom says as she sizes you up, "... everywhere."

What would I do without your infinite wisdom, mama? I would probably be...infinite...physically. 

Also, your mom doesn't have time for you to throw tantrums about homework. Jeez.

As a freshman in college, I basically cried to my mom about having to write a six page essay (Note: I was trying to graduate in English Lit... I have warped views of the world). 

After hearing me whine about how I have nothing to write about, she looked at me, rolled her eyes and said, "This is embarrassing, just try and you'll see. I bet you'll write even more than 6 pages. Just stop being lazy!" 

...She was right.  

Siblings fight. It's like the Siblings 101 handbook. 

As avid gamers, and very competitive ones at that, my brothers and I used to always fight over videogames, and my mother would not like that one bit. 

Mother unplugs Nintendo Gamecube-- 'unsafely', I might add-- takes it to her room and locks it away, all the while saying, "Maybe this way you'll learn to behave, and play nice. All I hear is you kids yelling!"

It was the worst punishment ever. But it was to the betterment of our siblinghood. 

Cake, being a very important part of my life, is the best thing about birthdays. But, being a picky eater, I didn't get a lot of cake when I was younger.

"See, your brothers get cake because they finished their lunch. You don't get cake when you're not good." Mama says. 

It's safe to say that I do whatever it takes to get cake from now on. 

In the Arab world it's considered a prestige of sorts if you know how to play an instrument, and particularly the piano.

In my world, playing the piano is tedious and boring.

Between forcing me to practice, making me take theoretical exams, and getting me a teacher, she would also force me to sit in front of my piano if I chose to be stubborn.

"You don't have to play. Its fine. Sit there for an hour and do nothing."

(This sort of tough love didn't work on me. 5 years of piano and all I know how to play is happy birthday) 

I don't know how it works in other households, but in mine, Mama is the bad cop and Baba is good cop. Most the time Baba is also the silent cop that tells you to call forwards all your difficult questions to your mom. 

Me talking to Baba, while he's taking a nap, "Can I go over to the neighbor's house?" 

Baba: "Yes, but ask your mom first."

Mom: "la2, you have to do your homework first."
Me: "Bas baba said yes!"
Mama: "Do I look like baba to you?"

*hangs head sadly* no, she does not.