on growing up.

Merry Christmas, my friends! 

I hope that all of you were able to find moments of love and thankfulness over the past few days, regardless of the circumstances of your holiday.

Now, I have a thing for milestones. Give me any achievement, magnificent to mundane, that I can sort of use to demarcate my time on this globe, and I feel a whole lot happier. Maybe it's just a way to kid myself into feeling in control; maybe it's just a history major tic. 

Since graduation (another milestone marker), I've been celebrating each identifiable step towards adulthood, no matter how big or small. From first time I shelled out the cash to buy my own international ticket to Egypt, or successfully filed my income taxes (though on a Collision Clinic Carstar income, that didn't actually involve very much...),  or took time off work to watch the birth of my host sister's child, I've felt that much more like I just might have a bit of the independence, foresight, and maturity to begin to handle what lives throws at us.

Still, it was clear to all that I had some major deficits. The kitchen, for instance. Until I can emerge from that accursed room without burns on my hands or ruined food scraped into the garbage, no one will be calling me up to host Thanksgiving anytime soon. Or general hygiene, perhaps. When you think that a layer of clothes on your bedroom floor is a cheap alternative to carpet, you're probably more at a 13 year-old level than a 30. Also, when you've had a layer of Egyptian perma-dirt on your feet for 2 weeks and counting, you'd better just count your blessings that your boyfriend probably is rocking Ethiopian perma-dirt on his feet, too, and won't be immediately disgusted. Or at least, you hope so..

But coming home for Christmas, I suddenly felt myself emerge from my adolescent cocoon into the role of "adult child." I have to say, it's a much nicer state to be in, even if it involved waxing a bit domestic. Christmas Eve morning, my family was all in a rush to get the house clean for a Christmas party and the arrival of my sister and brother-in-law. In an earlier time, this would mostly involve my parents bribing, cajoling, and demanding with exasperation that we please pitch in with cleaning up the basement, washing dishes, vacuuming Christmas tree needles. As the years progressed, my whining diminished proportionately, but more in the role of obedient child than contributing adult. 

This Christmas eve, I woke up early (jet lag has turned me into a ninny. I apparently readjusted to American time, but somehow to the West coast, rather than the Midwest. I now go to sleep at 10pm and wake up at 6:30), cleaned up my boxes in the basement, made Christmas cookies (using a rolling pin! Take that, dark gods of the kitchen!), watered the Christmas tree, did the laundry, and did two loads of dishes.... all because I simply noticed that it needed to be done. 

And then, in the greatest miracle of all: I made a lasagna. 

The perk of having adult daughters in the house is that we've all now progressed to the level where we can have quality female time in the form of half-day spa packages rather than a trip to Dairy Queen. Yesterday my sisters and my mom went to get massages, facials, and nails done (courtesy of a Christmas present from my dad...thanks, dad!)--and let me say that, while I am delightedly content with my simpler, cheaper life in Egypt, massages are pretty terrific. I won't complain.

I am getting soft during my stay at home, though. Kilos of Mint M&Ms, mountains of Christmas cookies, and liters of eggnog have added a bit to the waistline; the ability to instantly access my car or the internet or American food at any moment I so desire has in one week melted away my mental and physical toughness that's taken 6 months to cultivate in Egypt. I feel like a monk fudging his vows.

Emails, text messages, and even a phone call Christmas morning from my Egyptian friends have done a lot to keep me grounded, though. It's easy to simply run away from those relationships once you're on home soil and an ocean and a Sahara away. They're keeping me honest. I'm going back to Egypt, and that will be a good thing. I'm glad to be able to store up all my observations of this transition to better prepare for when I'm leaving Cairo for good.

In the meantime, there are cookies to be made and casseroles to be baked (ha-just kidding. I can do it, kind of [ok, so the cookies were burnt on the bottom, big deal], but that doesn't mean i like it any better) and I hope that you are all likewise enjoying your time off. Merry Christmas, wa kula sana wa intu tayyibeen.