Alas! I have decided to move this blog over to Wordpress because Wordpress provides more organization and features (especially file sharing) that I want to use for the purpose of this particular blog. I will stop posting here on blogger, and will inshallah continue posting on the new site. It's still a move in progress though, so please bear with all the incompleteness.
Jazakum allah khair for your visits, announced or not, and wonderful comments. I had started this blog not intending to garner an audience. It's more of a homeschooling journal for our family, since I was too lazy to write it manually or type it on Microsoft word, and blogging seemed to be the way to go, convenient and nice-looking. But, over the years, people have come and gone, and if anything, I just hope that if there are benefits to be gained from the blog, that it will be like sadaqah jariah for me. Anything bad that may come out of it, may Allah forgive me.
Anything expressed in this blog, I intend as a way to document our homeschooling experience, and you will not find everything nice and dandy, for it will also include my dilemmas, and problems especially in parenting and homeschooling. They are not means of complaining or bragging in order to get responses, but merely as documentation of the hardships and also good days that we go through. I really truly appreciate those who drop by, giving me the honor of having some 'relationships' and online support (somewhat), which I never intended to have, but greatly welcome nonetheless.
And with that, I welcome you to the new site (still under construction):
nadiaschooldays.wordpress.com
Wassalamu alaykum warahmatullah wabarakaatuh.
Monday, June 16, 2008
A Seerah Weekend
Last weekend was the first weekend of Seerah. On Friday, we headed to Kottman Hall around 6:45 pm. H had expressed interest in taking the class, but we didn't enroll him. I urged him to come in during Free Friday.
Throughout the weekend though, I urged him to sit outside and listen in and come in and sit by me to listen. He managed to, and so did the girls, at some point. The rest of the time, they were playing outside in the hallway and in the garden.
The class mashaallah was amazing. I'm so glad I decided to take it in the end. It provided an eman boost and a LOT to reflect on. It's Seerah, but Sheikh Abdulbary connected it to our current life here in the West and related it to our situations. That makes it full of gems to take home, alhamdulillah.
As is usual after any AlMaghrib classes I take, the kids clamor and ask me,
"Tell us stories!"
I was exhausted but I managed to tell them some, but I also urged them to sit in and listen when they can muster enough stillness so as not to distract the rest of the class.
I aksed H last night,
"Do you still wanna go to Saudi when you're bigger, to learn Islam?"
He nodded and said,
"But cellphones are not allowed."
I burst out laughing. He had told me before, when I was bustling in the kitchen,
"In Saudi Arabia, cellphones are not allowed."
"Where'd you hear that?"
"Khalid Yassin said it in the talk."
He had attended the talk by Khalid Yassin at the masjid with hubby.
When he responded like that last night, I asked him, chuckling,
"Why are you so hung up on cellphones anyway? We don't even have any."
Later on I told hubby and he said,
"Cellphones are not allowed during weddings."
Being a child, I guess H misunderstood it and generalized it to cellphones not being allowed in Saudi Arabia period.
I had a good laugh out of it though.
It has been a while since we dragged the kids along to AlMaghrib classes. When hubby and I were involved directly with the qabeelah, we attended the meetings, hubby manned the registration tables, and so the kids were better able to experience being involved in a dawah project. Now, hubby and I have kind of tapered off in terms of being involved directly in Columbus dawah projects, well, except that hubby is still highly involved in masjid dawah projects. Seats of Scholars is lying dormant for now, so I haven't been doing anything much. In a way I miss it, because when we were involved in dawah projects, the kids are also inadvertently involved, or at least they see us being busy with the dawah projects. I even induce them to help out with tasks they could manage, age-wise, like making flyers, and helping out in general (usually to call brothers for sisters or passing messages).
Since Seats of Scholars have also been lying dormant for a while, S is not doing her email reminders much, and H is not updating the website much. We need to pick that up again real soon inshaallah.
Being in the AlMaghrib atmosphere last weekend was a boost to me spiritually alhamdulillah and brings back nice memories of bringing back Hayl to Columbus, working with Hayl as a family (literally), and I realized that it's quite simple to train our children to make dawah, if we also do them, by involving ourselves in dawah projects that can take many forms. And I feel so grateful to Allah for having been given the opportunities to take part in many dawah projects run by many different organizations here in the United States, and for having been able to also do them as a family. Walhamdulillah.
Throughout the weekend though, I urged him to sit outside and listen in and come in and sit by me to listen. He managed to, and so did the girls, at some point. The rest of the time, they were playing outside in the hallway and in the garden.
The class mashaallah was amazing. I'm so glad I decided to take it in the end. It provided an eman boost and a LOT to reflect on. It's Seerah, but Sheikh Abdulbary connected it to our current life here in the West and related it to our situations. That makes it full of gems to take home, alhamdulillah.
As is usual after any AlMaghrib classes I take, the kids clamor and ask me,
"Tell us stories!"
I was exhausted but I managed to tell them some, but I also urged them to sit in and listen when they can muster enough stillness so as not to distract the rest of the class.
I aksed H last night,
"Do you still wanna go to Saudi when you're bigger, to learn Islam?"
He nodded and said,
"But cellphones are not allowed."
I burst out laughing. He had told me before, when I was bustling in the kitchen,
"In Saudi Arabia, cellphones are not allowed."
"Where'd you hear that?"
"Khalid Yassin said it in the talk."
He had attended the talk by Khalid Yassin at the masjid with hubby.
When he responded like that last night, I asked him, chuckling,
"Why are you so hung up on cellphones anyway? We don't even have any."
Later on I told hubby and he said,
"Cellphones are not allowed during weddings."
Being a child, I guess H misunderstood it and generalized it to cellphones not being allowed in Saudi Arabia period.
I had a good laugh out of it though.
It has been a while since we dragged the kids along to AlMaghrib classes. When hubby and I were involved directly with the qabeelah, we attended the meetings, hubby manned the registration tables, and so the kids were better able to experience being involved in a dawah project. Now, hubby and I have kind of tapered off in terms of being involved directly in Columbus dawah projects, well, except that hubby is still highly involved in masjid dawah projects. Seats of Scholars is lying dormant for now, so I haven't been doing anything much. In a way I miss it, because when we were involved in dawah projects, the kids are also inadvertently involved, or at least they see us being busy with the dawah projects. I even induce them to help out with tasks they could manage, age-wise, like making flyers, and helping out in general (usually to call brothers for sisters or passing messages).
Since Seats of Scholars have also been lying dormant for a while, S is not doing her email reminders much, and H is not updating the website much. We need to pick that up again real soon inshaallah.
Being in the AlMaghrib atmosphere last weekend was a boost to me spiritually alhamdulillah and brings back nice memories of bringing back Hayl to Columbus, working with Hayl as a family (literally), and I realized that it's quite simple to train our children to make dawah, if we also do them, by involving ourselves in dawah projects that can take many forms. And I feel so grateful to Allah for having been given the opportunities to take part in many dawah projects run by many different organizations here in the United States, and for having been able to also do them as a family. Walhamdulillah.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
It's difficult being a parent
Hubby and I have been trying to coax H to resume going to the masjid for the hifdh with AM, but he's been consistently refusing. Today, we went from one store to the next, looking for shoes for S to wear for her horse-riding lesson that will commence on Tuesday, next week inshaallah.
We ended up at Kohl's.
Of course, being me, I fretted about his firm refusal to go.
"So you're going tonight to AM, right H?"
He shook his head.
"No."
"Why?"
Let's just say it took quite some prodding to get to the core of the issue.
"You don't like going to the masjid?"
"No, it's so long!"
"You mean from Maghrib to Isha?"
He nodded.
"AM used to have free time, but not anymore."
It dawned on hubby then, what the issue was.
Apparently, before this, when H used to enjoy and look forward to going to the masjid, AM used to give them regular breaks where they could play, but not anymore.
We mulled over it, and I was reminded of the lecture I heard about parenting where you have to have positive association with acts of ibadah for children, so they will always look forward to it. In H's case, the positive association is gone. As a result, he no longer wants to go to the masjid.
Hubby said he will talk to AM about it, and as we went home, he said,
"No wonder there are not that many kids now coming to the masjid."
I had asked H, when he revealed the true reason he didn't want to go anymore,
"If AM gives you breaks like before, would you go?"
He nodded.
"You would do the Quran memorization and play?"
He nodded.
So it's not about memorizing the Quran, it's about 'just apples and no donuts'. Muhammad AlShareef uses this analogy of apples and donuts in dawah techniques, where apples refer to the hard core dawah issues (healthy) and donuts refer to the 'fun' stuff incorporated into any dawah event/activity. When it comes to attracting youths, the balance of apples and donuts is pretty important, especially today's generation.
I was worried that it was about Quran memorization, and felt a huge relief wash over me when I found out it wasn't. I have to say it felt pretty good to find out what the issue is.
Most times, parents don't take enough time to prod into matters pertaining to their children (well at least, in my experience) to find out why their children are acting up/refusing to do something. In Stephen's Covey 7 Habits, he talks about seeking to understand and then be understood. A lot of conflicts happen between parents and children when parents assume things about their children, thus not seeking to sincerely understand them. Subhanallah, we could have just forced him to go despite his adamant refusal. We could have dragged him to the masjid kicking and screaming. For all my unwise parenting moments, I can safely say that for this particular instance, inshaallah, Allah has guided me with some semblance of parental wisdom, Alhamdulillah!
Tonight he did go.
When the time came for them to go, hubby asked him,
"H, do you wanna go with the van, or the bike?"
H was playing downstairs at the time, not even ready to go to the masjid. I was trying to read as much as I could of a library book, and so I didn't look at him, but I sensed some hesitation. Alhamdulillah, he finally answered,
"Bicycle!"
When they came back, I asked him,
"So did you have fun at the masjid?"
He shook his head, but at least he wasn't sullen or physically rebelling about having to go.
That was one issue we had to deal with, alhamdulillah.
Another one came up while H and hubby were at the masjid. The kids are in the summer reading program, and today, they went to redeem their prizes, and it involved a dice. I suddenly felt uneasy about it as I was making wudhu' for Maghrib and I told the girls.
"I don't feel good about the dice today. Did you remember about the dice?"
"Yeah, I remember, but how are we going to get the bugs?"
Then, came the comment or remark that shook up my parenting world,
"It's difficult being a Muslim. You can't have tattoos, and dice."
Let me just say that I was speechless after that remark S made. Only Allah knows how much my heart felt like it was wrung out. Immediately I thought,
"Ya Allah! This is it! I'm going through what most Muslim parents go through!"
Earlier today even, as we drove through town, I was thinking to myself,
"The years ahead are probably going to be rough. The kids are growing, entering new stages, different and unfamiliar stages in their lives. I'm in for a bumpy ride."
H's issue with the masjid had triggered that train of thought in me, and S's remark just put an exclamation mark at the back of that caboose.
I gave a short response, consisting of
"That's because we're living in a kuffar country."
"Then when are we going to move to a better place?" asked N.
"I don't know. Make dua."
"I know it's difficult. It's difficult for adults too."
"No, it's more difficult for kids."
"Well, yes, but adults have a hard time too, you know. Abi could have gotten a job easily all this time and we could have been rich. There are banks and insurance companies telling him to come, but he refused because they're deep in riba'. If he had worked for them, we probably would have been rich and won't have the problem of staying here, but then, our dua might not be accepted because our source of money is haram, and whatever we eat is haram, nauzubillah. So it's difficult for adults too."
My dismay was beginning to make me angry, so I held my tongue, and stopped talking. My thoughts unraveled, and I thought of the best way to respond. I thought,
"I need to talk to them."
I didn't know what I was going to say, but I knew I had to talk to them about it, soon. I made dua that Allah give me wisdom to handle it, and for Allah to give them wisdom to bear this.
While S took her shower, I called N to my room while I nursed Baby Z.
"N, what S said just now, about how difficult it is to be a Muslim. Do you..."
I was lost for words. I had no plan, I didn't know what or how I was going to go about discussing it. I was jumping in blind.
"Agree?" she finished my sentence.
I nodded.
"Yeah."
"How is it difficult to be a Muslim?"
She prattled about some negative stuff, and it was as if a lightbulb lit up in my head,
Instead of asking her what's making it difficult, why not ask her what's fun about being a Muslim?
(Being proactive instead of reactive)
So I did. I turned the question to,
"Okay, what can you do and have you done that's fun, as a Muslim?"
It got the wheels turning, and before long, she was churning out our travels to Texas, Pennsylvania, Eid, cats, Baby Z, etc.
By the time she was done, I added to her list, and we concluded that
Hey, there are a lot of things that Muslims can do.
When we were done, I shooed her out, and hailed S.
"S, N and I were talking about the difficult being a Muslim, and we came up with...with what N?"
"A lot of cool stuff," replied N as she left the room.
So I did another 'session' with S. She listed Pennsylvania, cats, frogs, Baby Z, kissing him, hugging him, playing outside, reading, Muslim parties, eating, getting a flat tire, museums, petting animals, etc.
I did note that both mentioned our travels to Pennsylvania. Subhanallah, they seem to really cherish those trips to children's museums on our trip that happened only because of hubby's conference.
We also concluded that Muslims can do a lot of things, but with her, I added something extra.
"Even for adults, it's difficult. Some adults would say why is it that the kuffar have a good life, they live in mansions, and look at their country, so clean and modern, while Muslim countries are dirty and the people are rude, and poor. I had a friend who said that.."
"What did you tell her?" S interjected.
"I don't remember..." (I really don't remember!)
"But..basically, Allah has said in the Quran, if one asks for something good here on earth, he will get it, and if he doesn't ask for any good in the hereafter, he won't get anything. And which is more lasting? Here or the hereafter?"
I continued with moer analogies...
"You know, if you're thirsty, and you drink water because you're thirsty, and then let's say you're not thirsty, and you drink anyway. Which one feels better?"
"The first one," she said.
"So it's like that, if we live an enjoyable life here on earth, when we go to jannah, it might not....feel..."
"Worth it?"
"Yeah, kind of. But you know what I mean, right?"
"Because of that suffering, Allah will compensate us."
And I told her about the pricking of the thorn, of how our sins are erased for any pain we feel.
"I'm so scared of the punishment in the grave, that I think, oh, let me have a lot of pain now so I won't have any sins to be punished for in the grave."
"And here on earth, let's say you drink Cincau, for example, you drink it again, and it tastes the same, right? But in jannah, let's say you eat a fruit, the first time you eat it, it's SOOO good, and the second time you eat it, ahhh...the third time you eat it, it's even better! The fourth time you eat it, awesome! The fifth time you eat it, WHOA!"
S was giggling from all the expressions I manufactured with each bite of that fruit, and I joined her.
We really covered a lot during that talk, alhamdulillah.
I am reminded of what Sheikh Yaser Birjas said in the class Code of Scholars: Usul Al Fiqh last August. That we Muslims just have to be more creative and not feel restricted in not being able to do this and that. Instead we should focus on the halal things we are allowed to do. This is where we parents come in and provide these halal alternatives - part of our job description.
After we prayed Isha, N said,
"Ummi, let's hurt ourselves."
"Huh?"
"So we'll get rewarded and won't have any sins."
Aaahhh...this girl has been eavesdropping.
We ended up at Kohl's.
Of course, being me, I fretted about his firm refusal to go.
"So you're going tonight to AM, right H?"
He shook his head.
"No."
"Why?"
Let's just say it took quite some prodding to get to the core of the issue.
"You don't like going to the masjid?"
"No, it's so long!"
"You mean from Maghrib to Isha?"
He nodded.
"AM used to have free time, but not anymore."
It dawned on hubby then, what the issue was.
Apparently, before this, when H used to enjoy and look forward to going to the masjid, AM used to give them regular breaks where they could play, but not anymore.
We mulled over it, and I was reminded of the lecture I heard about parenting where you have to have positive association with acts of ibadah for children, so they will always look forward to it. In H's case, the positive association is gone. As a result, he no longer wants to go to the masjid.
Hubby said he will talk to AM about it, and as we went home, he said,
"No wonder there are not that many kids now coming to the masjid."
I had asked H, when he revealed the true reason he didn't want to go anymore,
"If AM gives you breaks like before, would you go?"
He nodded.
"You would do the Quran memorization and play?"
He nodded.
So it's not about memorizing the Quran, it's about 'just apples and no donuts'. Muhammad AlShareef uses this analogy of apples and donuts in dawah techniques, where apples refer to the hard core dawah issues (healthy) and donuts refer to the 'fun' stuff incorporated into any dawah event/activity. When it comes to attracting youths, the balance of apples and donuts is pretty important, especially today's generation.
I was worried that it was about Quran memorization, and felt a huge relief wash over me when I found out it wasn't. I have to say it felt pretty good to find out what the issue is.
Most times, parents don't take enough time to prod into matters pertaining to their children (well at least, in my experience) to find out why their children are acting up/refusing to do something. In Stephen's Covey 7 Habits, he talks about seeking to understand and then be understood. A lot of conflicts happen between parents and children when parents assume things about their children, thus not seeking to sincerely understand them. Subhanallah, we could have just forced him to go despite his adamant refusal. We could have dragged him to the masjid kicking and screaming. For all my unwise parenting moments, I can safely say that for this particular instance, inshaallah, Allah has guided me with some semblance of parental wisdom, Alhamdulillah!
Tonight he did go.
When the time came for them to go, hubby asked him,
"H, do you wanna go with the van, or the bike?"
H was playing downstairs at the time, not even ready to go to the masjid. I was trying to read as much as I could of a library book, and so I didn't look at him, but I sensed some hesitation. Alhamdulillah, he finally answered,
"Bicycle!"
When they came back, I asked him,
"So did you have fun at the masjid?"
He shook his head, but at least he wasn't sullen or physically rebelling about having to go.
That was one issue we had to deal with, alhamdulillah.
Another one came up while H and hubby were at the masjid. The kids are in the summer reading program, and today, they went to redeem their prizes, and it involved a dice. I suddenly felt uneasy about it as I was making wudhu' for Maghrib and I told the girls.
"I don't feel good about the dice today. Did you remember about the dice?"
"Yeah, I remember, but how are we going to get the bugs?"
Then, came the comment or remark that shook up my parenting world,
"It's difficult being a Muslim. You can't have tattoos, and dice."
Let me just say that I was speechless after that remark S made. Only Allah knows how much my heart felt like it was wrung out. Immediately I thought,
"Ya Allah! This is it! I'm going through what most Muslim parents go through!"
Earlier today even, as we drove through town, I was thinking to myself,
"The years ahead are probably going to be rough. The kids are growing, entering new stages, different and unfamiliar stages in their lives. I'm in for a bumpy ride."
H's issue with the masjid had triggered that train of thought in me, and S's remark just put an exclamation mark at the back of that caboose.
I gave a short response, consisting of
"That's because we're living in a kuffar country."
"Then when are we going to move to a better place?" asked N.
"I don't know. Make dua."
"I know it's difficult. It's difficult for adults too."
"No, it's more difficult for kids."
"Well, yes, but adults have a hard time too, you know. Abi could have gotten a job easily all this time and we could have been rich. There are banks and insurance companies telling him to come, but he refused because they're deep in riba'. If he had worked for them, we probably would have been rich and won't have the problem of staying here, but then, our dua might not be accepted because our source of money is haram, and whatever we eat is haram, nauzubillah. So it's difficult for adults too."
My dismay was beginning to make me angry, so I held my tongue, and stopped talking. My thoughts unraveled, and I thought of the best way to respond. I thought,
"I need to talk to them."
I didn't know what I was going to say, but I knew I had to talk to them about it, soon. I made dua that Allah give me wisdom to handle it, and for Allah to give them wisdom to bear this.
While S took her shower, I called N to my room while I nursed Baby Z.
"N, what S said just now, about how difficult it is to be a Muslim. Do you..."
I was lost for words. I had no plan, I didn't know what or how I was going to go about discussing it. I was jumping in blind.
"Agree?" she finished my sentence.
I nodded.
"Yeah."
"How is it difficult to be a Muslim?"
She prattled about some negative stuff, and it was as if a lightbulb lit up in my head,
Instead of asking her what's making it difficult, why not ask her what's fun about being a Muslim?
(Being proactive instead of reactive)
So I did. I turned the question to,
"Okay, what can you do and have you done that's fun, as a Muslim?"
It got the wheels turning, and before long, she was churning out our travels to Texas, Pennsylvania, Eid, cats, Baby Z, etc.
By the time she was done, I added to her list, and we concluded that
Hey, there are a lot of things that Muslims can do.
When we were done, I shooed her out, and hailed S.
"S, N and I were talking about the difficult being a Muslim, and we came up with...with what N?"
"A lot of cool stuff," replied N as she left the room.
So I did another 'session' with S. She listed Pennsylvania, cats, frogs, Baby Z, kissing him, hugging him, playing outside, reading, Muslim parties, eating, getting a flat tire, museums, petting animals, etc.
I did note that both mentioned our travels to Pennsylvania. Subhanallah, they seem to really cherish those trips to children's museums on our trip that happened only because of hubby's conference.
We also concluded that Muslims can do a lot of things, but with her, I added something extra.
"Even for adults, it's difficult. Some adults would say why is it that the kuffar have a good life, they live in mansions, and look at their country, so clean and modern, while Muslim countries are dirty and the people are rude, and poor. I had a friend who said that.."
"What did you tell her?" S interjected.
"I don't remember..." (I really don't remember!)
"But..basically, Allah has said in the Quran, if one asks for something good here on earth, he will get it, and if he doesn't ask for any good in the hereafter, he won't get anything. And which is more lasting? Here or the hereafter?"
I continued with moer analogies...
"You know, if you're thirsty, and you drink water because you're thirsty, and then let's say you're not thirsty, and you drink anyway. Which one feels better?"
"The first one," she said.
"So it's like that, if we live an enjoyable life here on earth, when we go to jannah, it might not....feel..."
"Worth it?"
"Yeah, kind of. But you know what I mean, right?"
"Because of that suffering, Allah will compensate us."
And I told her about the pricking of the thorn, of how our sins are erased for any pain we feel.
"I'm so scared of the punishment in the grave, that I think, oh, let me have a lot of pain now so I won't have any sins to be punished for in the grave."
"And here on earth, let's say you drink Cincau, for example, you drink it again, and it tastes the same, right? But in jannah, let's say you eat a fruit, the first time you eat it, it's SOOO good, and the second time you eat it, ahhh...the third time you eat it, it's even better! The fourth time you eat it, awesome! The fifth time you eat it, WHOA!"
S was giggling from all the expressions I manufactured with each bite of that fruit, and I joined her.
We really covered a lot during that talk, alhamdulillah.
I am reminded of what Sheikh Yaser Birjas said in the class Code of Scholars: Usul Al Fiqh last August. That we Muslims just have to be more creative and not feel restricted in not being able to do this and that. Instead we should focus on the halal things we are allowed to do. This is where we parents come in and provide these halal alternatives - part of our job description.
After we prayed Isha, N said,
"Ummi, let's hurt ourselves."
"Huh?"
"So we'll get rewarded and won't have any sins."
Aaahhh...this girl has been eavesdropping.
Seerah: The Shepherd's Path
I was busy writing out an email to hubby and the kids, laying out possible plans for this weekend, thinking that this weekend will be just like any other weekend. After I hit the send button, I realized,
I'm taking Seerah!! inshaallah.
Sheikh Abdulbary is teaching this one, and he's renowned for his stories, mashaallah. At first I didn't want to take it, because last class's experience with plugged ducts was really not fun, and with hubby's knee, I wasn't sure if he could even lift Baby Z's car seat in the process of lugging him to me and taking him back home again throughout both weekends. But inshaallah, I will be taking the class.
As I was looking through AlMaghrib's seminar webpage, I noticed a new class: Beautiful Patience: Tafseer Surah Yusuf. Mashaallah! I haven't been keeping up with AlMaghrib's progress, that this is really news to me! Sabrun Jameel, I need that sorely. I wonder if we'll still be here for me to be able to continue taking AlMaghrib classes...or in the UK, since it's already there now, alhamdulillah.
H is resuming going to AM for his Quran memorization inshaallah, starting tonight. Hubby said to him this morning,
"AM and me are buddies. Who else's kids dad play soccer with the sheikh?"
When AM talked to hubby about H's hesitance to come to the masjid for hifdh, AM said that it might be because H was having trouble with Surah Talaq, such that he had to work on the same ayah for weeks.
One time, before this, AM asked H why he didn't come to the hifdh program anymore, and H replied,
"I'm doing it with my father."
Suffice it to say, hubby was embarrassed when AM told him about it.
So inshaallah, H is resuming it with AM tonight.
In the meantime, I'd better quickly review that Seerah timeline on the wall in the living room. Interestingly, I'm not that excited about this upcoming class, such that I actually forgot about it.
May Allah make it easier this time around with nursing Baby Z and avoiding plugged ducts inshaallah. Ameen.
I'm taking Seerah!! inshaallah.
Sheikh Abdulbary is teaching this one, and he's renowned for his stories, mashaallah. At first I didn't want to take it, because last class's experience with plugged ducts was really not fun, and with hubby's knee, I wasn't sure if he could even lift Baby Z's car seat in the process of lugging him to me and taking him back home again throughout both weekends. But inshaallah, I will be taking the class.
As I was looking through AlMaghrib's seminar webpage, I noticed a new class: Beautiful Patience: Tafseer Surah Yusuf. Mashaallah! I haven't been keeping up with AlMaghrib's progress, that this is really news to me! Sabrun Jameel, I need that sorely. I wonder if we'll still be here for me to be able to continue taking AlMaghrib classes...or in the UK, since it's already there now, alhamdulillah.
H is resuming going to AM for his Quran memorization inshaallah, starting tonight. Hubby said to him this morning,
"AM and me are buddies. Who else's kids dad play soccer with the sheikh?"
When AM talked to hubby about H's hesitance to come to the masjid for hifdh, AM said that it might be because H was having trouble with Surah Talaq, such that he had to work on the same ayah for weeks.
One time, before this, AM asked H why he didn't come to the hifdh program anymore, and H replied,
"I'm doing it with my father."
Suffice it to say, hubby was embarrassed when AM told him about it.
So inshaallah, H is resuming it with AM tonight.
In the meantime, I'd better quickly review that Seerah timeline on the wall in the living room. Interestingly, I'm not that excited about this upcoming class, such that I actually forgot about it.
May Allah make it easier this time around with nursing Baby Z and avoiding plugged ducts inshaallah. Ameen.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
A Myriad of Possibilities
"They said that you should apply for grad school if we want to continue to stay here."
I had considered grad school before, maybe once, maybe twice, but the thought of going to school with kids at home brought me back to my undergrad days, where I spent two years of undergraduate life with two pregnancies and two daughters.
The experience might not be the same as a working mother, but I would say it's a totally different experience altogether. And before anyone says there are Ph.D mothers who do the same thing, let's remember that the requirements for an undergraduate studies are very different from that of graduate programs (where family is somewhat expected and considered).
S wasn't fully breastfed because my pumping experience was horrendous. N alhamdulillah was fully breastfed since our loads were somewhat lighter towards our senior years, but her delivery was right in the midst of midterms and group projects. Not fun.
Thinking back, I somewhat feel bad for not being there 100% with S and N, especially S, whom we dropped from one babysitter to the next, and whom we swaddled really tightly so she would sleep and I could study and complete my programming assignments.
Only H received my full mothering. The thought of leaving them again rather rattled me, in a way. I can't leave Baby Z, even though he's pretty big now. No. Not with his allergies, and those wonderful early years...I can't miss that!
"What about the kids?"
"We can send them to Sunrise, if it's here."
I'm stubborn. I still want to homeschool them. But how can I, if I go to school? I can barely handle it now.
I started looking into graduate programs, and I made istikharah.
I can't. I just can't.
So here I am, doing job searches for hubby, until my eyes are glazed over. We have roughly 6 more months till we have to leave if he doesn't get anything.
Rabbana aatina fi dunya hasanah wa fil aakhirati hasanah wa qina 'adhzaab annaar. Ameen.
I had considered grad school before, maybe once, maybe twice, but the thought of going to school with kids at home brought me back to my undergrad days, where I spent two years of undergraduate life with two pregnancies and two daughters.
The experience might not be the same as a working mother, but I would say it's a totally different experience altogether. And before anyone says there are Ph.D mothers who do the same thing, let's remember that the requirements for an undergraduate studies are very different from that of graduate programs (where family is somewhat expected and considered).
S wasn't fully breastfed because my pumping experience was horrendous. N alhamdulillah was fully breastfed since our loads were somewhat lighter towards our senior years, but her delivery was right in the midst of midterms and group projects. Not fun.
Thinking back, I somewhat feel bad for not being there 100% with S and N, especially S, whom we dropped from one babysitter to the next, and whom we swaddled really tightly so she would sleep and I could study and complete my programming assignments.
Only H received my full mothering. The thought of leaving them again rather rattled me, in a way. I can't leave Baby Z, even though he's pretty big now. No. Not with his allergies, and those wonderful early years...I can't miss that!
"What about the kids?"
"We can send them to Sunrise, if it's here."
I'm stubborn. I still want to homeschool them. But how can I, if I go to school? I can barely handle it now.
I started looking into graduate programs, and I made istikharah.
I can't. I just can't.
So here I am, doing job searches for hubby, until my eyes are glazed over. We have roughly 6 more months till we have to leave if he doesn't get anything.
Rabbana aatina fi dunya hasanah wa fil aakhirati hasanah wa qina 'adhzaab annaar. Ameen.
Monday, June 09, 2008
You're just making an excuse
I've been lamenting over the lack of motivation to exercise, and everything I look in the mirror, the silent laments start their run, and I tell myself.
"Tomorrow I'm going to exercise."
However, the sheer will power that drove me to force myself to workout half an hour everyday in my heydays of 'a young momma with three small youngins under the age of 4' is gone, or maybe buried under the layers of unsightly fat I now own. Since hubby busted his knee, I do not have a tennis partner for the Tennis Sundays. I thought I could play with the kids, but, let's face it, we end up picking up balls more than playing. Even though that burns calories, it also burns my patience. Hubby has been telling me to put up an advert in the masjid saying something like,
"Need a female tennis partner to play with on Sundays after Fajr."
I don't think I will do such a thing, though in desperation, I was tempted to.
I thought of rollerblading since S just got new used rollerblades as gift from hubby, and I thought of biking, but these remain as thoughts so far. I thought of jumproping in the house, but alas, our jumprope is either discarded or missing somewhere, and though I can easily make a Chinese jumprope from the bag of rubber bands we have, I lack the motivation to do so.
This morning, after nursing Baby Z for his morning nap, I went downstairs with the intent to exercise to the video cassettes that we have, and as I walked through the living room, I announced this to the kids.
"I want to exercise but I'm so lazy. You have to help me move."
"Ok, we will. We'll exercise with you!"
I haven't worked out in the house for a long time, and the last time I did, the shoes that I wore specifically inside the house has grown slippery, so I slightly recalled wearing it outside.
"Do you guys remember if I wore this outside?"
"No, you didn't."
"Eh, I think I did. See the bottom's dirty."
"You're just making an excuse, Ummi," H said, as I went upstairs to wash the soles in the bathtub.
"Hmm, now it's wet. H can you please put this outside so it'll dry?"
He did, and I continued,
"Hmm...now I can't exercise, 'cause my shoes are wet."
"I think I'll just do Pilates. You wanna do it with me?"
"Yeah!"
So I did, with H next to me, grunting and giggling, making me lose control and giggle too. While I pushed on, he stopped, complaining that it was too difficult.
I was happy I pushed myself to exercise, because I do feel better, not as sluggish, but I only hope this will not be a 'one-time' thing. Tomorrow, I don't have an 'excuse' since my shoes are dry, though I do have minor surgery tomorrow (which I'm not too happy about).
But to my announcement, N asked me,
"Why do you wanna be thin again?"
Hmm...am I that fat?
"Tomorrow I'm going to exercise."
However, the sheer will power that drove me to force myself to workout half an hour everyday in my heydays of 'a young momma with three small youngins under the age of 4' is gone, or maybe buried under the layers of unsightly fat I now own. Since hubby busted his knee, I do not have a tennis partner for the Tennis Sundays. I thought I could play with the kids, but, let's face it, we end up picking up balls more than playing. Even though that burns calories, it also burns my patience. Hubby has been telling me to put up an advert in the masjid saying something like,
"Need a female tennis partner to play with on Sundays after Fajr."
I don't think I will do such a thing, though in desperation, I was tempted to.
I thought of rollerblading since S just got new used rollerblades as gift from hubby, and I thought of biking, but these remain as thoughts so far. I thought of jumproping in the house, but alas, our jumprope is either discarded or missing somewhere, and though I can easily make a Chinese jumprope from the bag of rubber bands we have, I lack the motivation to do so.
This morning, after nursing Baby Z for his morning nap, I went downstairs with the intent to exercise to the video cassettes that we have, and as I walked through the living room, I announced this to the kids.
"I want to exercise but I'm so lazy. You have to help me move."
"Ok, we will. We'll exercise with you!"
I haven't worked out in the house for a long time, and the last time I did, the shoes that I wore specifically inside the house has grown slippery, so I slightly recalled wearing it outside.
"Do you guys remember if I wore this outside?"
"No, you didn't."
"Eh, I think I did. See the bottom's dirty."
"You're just making an excuse, Ummi," H said, as I went upstairs to wash the soles in the bathtub.
"Hmm, now it's wet. H can you please put this outside so it'll dry?"
He did, and I continued,
"Hmm...now I can't exercise, 'cause my shoes are wet."
"I think I'll just do Pilates. You wanna do it with me?"
"Yeah!"
So I did, with H next to me, grunting and giggling, making me lose control and giggle too. While I pushed on, he stopped, complaining that it was too difficult.
I was happy I pushed myself to exercise, because I do feel better, not as sluggish, but I only hope this will not be a 'one-time' thing. Tomorrow, I don't have an 'excuse' since my shoes are dry, though I do have minor surgery tomorrow (which I'm not too happy about).
But to my announcement, N asked me,
"Why do you wanna be thin again?"
Hmm...am I that fat?
Allergic Reactions
Last Friday:
A part of our baseboard was broken and we have been having broken paint chips as a result. To make the story short, Baby Z got hold of one chunk of broken wall and chewed it. The girls were supposed to watch him, but had run to the kitchen because they didn't do what they were supposed to do before then. Result: they received severe scolding from my, and resulted in them having to clean the whole house while the rest of us napped. I called the pediatrician and the Poison center, since I was concerned about the ingestion of lead, but inshaallah all is fine.
Last Saturday:
S gave Baby Z some soy-free, wheat-free, dairy-free cookies we had bought for him. He ate two. He had an allergic reaction which includes coughing, wheezing, and a flare up of hives. Suffice it to day, I was scared, especially with the wheezing. The on call pediatrician left us a message (he called while we were making salat Asr) and said,
"If the allergic reaction involves breathing difficulty, please call the squad and have them evaluate, but if it's only a rash, bring the child to the nearest urgent care."
Hubby gave Baby Z a bath, I nursed him, he fell asleep, the wheezing subsided, the hives remained, but at least while he was sleeping, he wasn't making it worse by scratching. After he woke up, his hives were gone and his wheezing had stopped, ALHAMDULILLAH! No squad and no urgent care.
Sunday:
S played with a stray kitten around Buckeye Village. We had company at the time, and when I went upstairs, S was making wudhu' for Maghrib in the bathroom. When she turned to face me, her face was horribly covered in hives, especially around the eyes. It was a while before they went down completely. I hope she's not allergic to horses too.
We had a weekend of allergic reactions...subhanallah. I have never dealt with allergic reactions before. We have none in my side of the family. Let's just say it was pretty scary, though maybe N's febrile seizure was scarier.
A part of our baseboard was broken and we have been having broken paint chips as a result. To make the story short, Baby Z got hold of one chunk of broken wall and chewed it. The girls were supposed to watch him, but had run to the kitchen because they didn't do what they were supposed to do before then. Result: they received severe scolding from my, and resulted in them having to clean the whole house while the rest of us napped. I called the pediatrician and the Poison center, since I was concerned about the ingestion of lead, but inshaallah all is fine.
Last Saturday:
S gave Baby Z some soy-free, wheat-free, dairy-free cookies we had bought for him. He ate two. He had an allergic reaction which includes coughing, wheezing, and a flare up of hives. Suffice it to day, I was scared, especially with the wheezing. The on call pediatrician left us a message (he called while we were making salat Asr) and said,
"If the allergic reaction involves breathing difficulty, please call the squad and have them evaluate, but if it's only a rash, bring the child to the nearest urgent care."
Hubby gave Baby Z a bath, I nursed him, he fell asleep, the wheezing subsided, the hives remained, but at least while he was sleeping, he wasn't making it worse by scratching. After he woke up, his hives were gone and his wheezing had stopped, ALHAMDULILLAH! No squad and no urgent care.
Sunday:
S played with a stray kitten around Buckeye Village. We had company at the time, and when I went upstairs, S was making wudhu' for Maghrib in the bathroom. When she turned to face me, her face was horribly covered in hives, especially around the eyes. It was a while before they went down completely. I hope she's not allergic to horses too.
We had a weekend of allergic reactions...subhanallah. I have never dealt with allergic reactions before. We have none in my side of the family. Let's just say it was pretty scary, though maybe N's febrile seizure was scarier.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
'Dogged' & Grossed
"Where are we going?"
"Aahhhhh tell ussss!!!"
Hubby, as usual, told the kids that we would go somewhere, but didn't say where exactly. Of course, this sparked the ultimate curiosity in them, especially because the day that he said it, we didn't end up going there.
Today however, we did, and when we did get there, I think S was pleasantly surprised.
She has been lamenting over not getting to ride horses or touch or pet them for ages. Her love for horses seems overwhelming, and not wanting to deprive her of the opportunity, I googled horse-riding lessons in Columbus, Ohio.
We had missed the spring session, and I was hoping we could join the summer session, albeit being 30 dollars more in cost. In short, we signed her up today, onsite, since the owner is pretty bad at replying emails and returning phone calls. We decided to just go there and sign her up.
Hubby got out and tried to find the owner, who was working in the barn, and from our van, we could see a little dog following him, sniffing his legs.
"Look at the dog!"
"He's following Abi!"
Hubby came back and said that the summer session is still not filled, and I went with him to ask the owner some questions about paraphernalia for S to wear to the lessons. As soon as I reached the table where the lady was sitting, and this was outdoor, not indoor, out of nowhere, two dogs the size of a very small ponies greeted me with their snouts. Two smaller dogs followed suit, and on reflex, I screamed. I truly screamed, and upon instinct, I moved away from the, which only made them dog me more, whcih led to me screaming more.
As I moved away, I whimpered for hubby to come to my rescue, but he merely stood watching me and said,
"Don't run. If you run, they'll go after you."
Backed against the wall of the building, I held on to the forms, looked at the van, which contained the kids, while the four dogs sniffed me. I couldn't seem to stop screaming. of course the owner called them off, but I had already made a fool of myself.
"I'm sorry, I'm just not used to dogs," I said to her, thinking that she might be offended at my response to her gentle dogs.
"Oh, I'm sorry too. They won't hurt you, but in the beginning they can be pretty obnoxious."
We managed to sign S up for riding lessons, which will commence June 17 inshaallah, and when we walked back to the van, which had the door open, we found the great hound returning from our van.
"Did you all laugh at me?" I asked the kids.
"You screamed!"
"The hound came and sniffed Abi's crutches."
At home, I asked the kids again.
"Did I look silly screaming like that?"
"Yeah, you were standing with the papers in your hand, screaming!"
"Oh yeah, what would you have done if it was you?"
"I would have just stood there," replied S, and N nodded.
"How about you, H?" I asked H, who was busy playing a game on the computer.
"Err.. I don't know," he said, without looking at me, but I could see his cheeks bulging from a smile.
"H was chased by a dog once at the park. He ran and screamed," S said, laughing.
"When the hound came to the van, H hid in the trunk."
So! H jumped to the back of the van!
"I think, if it was him, he would have made his roller coaster face and screamed like mad," I said, reminiscing his roller coaster face when we went on the Calypso at Cedar Points a few years back.
Apparently, my fear, tendency to chatter, and squeamishness when it comes to the inner human body have all been passed down to my first son.
Hubby's MRI results showed an ACL tear, and I googled the surgical procedure on Youtube. When I found it, I called the kids to watch. H, being 'me' ran off shrieking, covering his mouth, when the animation showed a long metal stick being inserted into the knee. N remained beside me and watched it without so much as a cringe. S wasn't there, but for the rest of the evening, I went after them, describing the procedure as grossly as I could as loud as I could, while S and H screamed as loud as they could to drown out my voice.
Suffice it to say, I really had fun grossing them out.
"And they would drill the bones...drrrrrrrr!!"
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!"
"Okay, okay,..come..get ready for maghrib."
"Aaaahhhh!!"
"I'm not saying anything!"
"Aaaaaah!!!"
"I'm done."
...
"Ooh this big metal stick, they stuck it through the knee..."
"AAAAAAHH!!!!"
That's for laughing at me, kids.
"They would slice out the tendon and then staple the tendons together..."
Mwahahahahahahahahahahahahahah!
"Aahhhhh tell ussss!!!"
Hubby, as usual, told the kids that we would go somewhere, but didn't say where exactly. Of course, this sparked the ultimate curiosity in them, especially because the day that he said it, we didn't end up going there.
Today however, we did, and when we did get there, I think S was pleasantly surprised.
She has been lamenting over not getting to ride horses or touch or pet them for ages. Her love for horses seems overwhelming, and not wanting to deprive her of the opportunity, I googled horse-riding lessons in Columbus, Ohio.
We had missed the spring session, and I was hoping we could join the summer session, albeit being 30 dollars more in cost. In short, we signed her up today, onsite, since the owner is pretty bad at replying emails and returning phone calls. We decided to just go there and sign her up.
Hubby got out and tried to find the owner, who was working in the barn, and from our van, we could see a little dog following him, sniffing his legs.
"Look at the dog!"
"He's following Abi!"
Hubby came back and said that the summer session is still not filled, and I went with him to ask the owner some questions about paraphernalia for S to wear to the lessons. As soon as I reached the table where the lady was sitting, and this was outdoor, not indoor, out of nowhere, two dogs the size of a very small ponies greeted me with their snouts. Two smaller dogs followed suit, and on reflex, I screamed. I truly screamed, and upon instinct, I moved away from the, which only made them dog me more, whcih led to me screaming more.
As I moved away, I whimpered for hubby to come to my rescue, but he merely stood watching me and said,
"Don't run. If you run, they'll go after you."
Backed against the wall of the building, I held on to the forms, looked at the van, which contained the kids, while the four dogs sniffed me. I couldn't seem to stop screaming. of course the owner called them off, but I had already made a fool of myself.
"I'm sorry, I'm just not used to dogs," I said to her, thinking that she might be offended at my response to her gentle dogs.
"Oh, I'm sorry too. They won't hurt you, but in the beginning they can be pretty obnoxious."
We managed to sign S up for riding lessons, which will commence June 17 inshaallah, and when we walked back to the van, which had the door open, we found the great hound returning from our van.
"Did you all laugh at me?" I asked the kids.
"You screamed!"
"The hound came and sniffed Abi's crutches."
At home, I asked the kids again.
"Did I look silly screaming like that?"
"Yeah, you were standing with the papers in your hand, screaming!"
"Oh yeah, what would you have done if it was you?"
"I would have just stood there," replied S, and N nodded.
"How about you, H?" I asked H, who was busy playing a game on the computer.
"Err.. I don't know," he said, without looking at me, but I could see his cheeks bulging from a smile.
"H was chased by a dog once at the park. He ran and screamed," S said, laughing.
"When the hound came to the van, H hid in the trunk."
So! H jumped to the back of the van!
"I think, if it was him, he would have made his roller coaster face and screamed like mad," I said, reminiscing his roller coaster face when we went on the Calypso at Cedar Points a few years back.
Apparently, my fear, tendency to chatter, and squeamishness when it comes to the inner human body have all been passed down to my first son.
Hubby's MRI results showed an ACL tear, and I googled the surgical procedure on Youtube. When I found it, I called the kids to watch. H, being 'me' ran off shrieking, covering his mouth, when the animation showed a long metal stick being inserted into the knee. N remained beside me and watched it without so much as a cringe. S wasn't there, but for the rest of the evening, I went after them, describing the procedure as grossly as I could as loud as I could, while S and H screamed as loud as they could to drown out my voice.
Suffice it to say, I really had fun grossing them out.
"And they would drill the bones...drrrrrrrr!!"
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!"
"Okay, okay,..come..get ready for maghrib."
"Aaaahhhh!!"
"I'm not saying anything!"
"Aaaaaah!!!"
"I'm done."
...
"Ooh this big metal stick, they stuck it through the knee..."
"AAAAAAHH!!!!"
That's for laughing at me, kids.
"They would slice out the tendon and then staple the tendons together..."
Mwahahahahahahahahahahahahahah!
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Life is an Open Secret
Hubby brought home Life is an Open Secret home a few days ago, from the OSU library, because I was asking for it. Kak Bina, my high school senior, is the author, and when I saw the book lying on the side table in the living room, I picked it up and read it immediately.
It is a very interesting and enjoyable read, and, mashaallah, Kak Bina really provoked some personal reflections in me, alhamdulillah. What is enjoyable about her book are the stories included in each chapter. I couldn't help but chuckle at some of them, jokes she had shared, and some of them I actually read out loud to the family.
I finished reading it the second day, after which I said to the kids,
"Now you can read it if you want."
They were already intrigued and curious as to the contents of the book, after I shared some of the jokes and stories with them out loud. It wasn't long before I found S reading it, pretty intently too.
"Do you like the book?" I asked her.
"I like the stories."
"Do you understand them?"
"Yeah."
Mashaallah. I had told hubby that we need to buy those Islamic fiction even if they seem to adultish for the kids, because S seems to be reading years ahead of her age. Everytime I see her read, and ask her comprehension, I think to myself,
"That Glenn Doman bit I did on her really makes a difference."
A few posts ago, I have come to the realization that maybe teaching kids to read an an earlier age is not that significant, but every time I see S reading, I am moved to think otherwise. I do think it does make a difference. Maybe it is not significant in terms of the ability to read, but maybe the significance is in the experience of reading itself, and where it can take that person. I think it even affects her Quran reading, compared to N and H. Allaahu Aalim.
Today, H picked up the book and started to read it, though he interrupted my reading numerous times with,
"What's labor?"
"Is this first person or third person?"
"The person writing this, is it a girl or a boy?"
"Are the stories true?"
To be honest, I was rather annoyed by the incessant questions, as I was feeling rather on the egde with regards to finding time for my writing today, especially. However, I am just thankful he is showing interest in reading it, just because it's not exactly a children's book.
I sure hope we get to purchasing that list of Islamic books, fiction and non fiction I had emailed hubby months ago, inshaallah.
It is a very interesting and enjoyable read, and, mashaallah, Kak Bina really provoked some personal reflections in me, alhamdulillah. What is enjoyable about her book are the stories included in each chapter. I couldn't help but chuckle at some of them, jokes she had shared, and some of them I actually read out loud to the family.
I finished reading it the second day, after which I said to the kids,
"Now you can read it if you want."
They were already intrigued and curious as to the contents of the book, after I shared some of the jokes and stories with them out loud. It wasn't long before I found S reading it, pretty intently too.
"Do you like the book?" I asked her.
"I like the stories."
"Do you understand them?"
"Yeah."
Mashaallah. I had told hubby that we need to buy those Islamic fiction even if they seem to adultish for the kids, because S seems to be reading years ahead of her age. Everytime I see her read, and ask her comprehension, I think to myself,
"That Glenn Doman bit I did on her really makes a difference."
A few posts ago, I have come to the realization that maybe teaching kids to read an an earlier age is not that significant, but every time I see S reading, I am moved to think otherwise. I do think it does make a difference. Maybe it is not significant in terms of the ability to read, but maybe the significance is in the experience of reading itself, and where it can take that person. I think it even affects her Quran reading, compared to N and H. Allaahu Aalim.
Today, H picked up the book and started to read it, though he interrupted my reading numerous times with,
"What's labor?"
"Is this first person or third person?"
"The person writing this, is it a girl or a boy?"
"Are the stories true?"
To be honest, I was rather annoyed by the incessant questions, as I was feeling rather on the egde with regards to finding time for my writing today, especially. However, I am just thankful he is showing interest in reading it, just because it's not exactly a children's book.
I sure hope we get to purchasing that list of Islamic books, fiction and non fiction I had emailed hubby months ago, inshaallah.
Too much
I made a mistake yesterday, which led to meltdown on my part, at the end of the day. After that promising 'outdoor Arabic', I was encouraged to do everything else that we had talked about. I should have been wise about it, and not try to do everything at once.
I was only supposed to handle N's Quran reading, with the tafseer, but since hubby hasn't been doing the reading with S and H, I did it with them, with tafseer. At the time, it wasn't overwhelming, but at the end of the day, the repeat of nursing Baby Z for one hour, only to have him fresh and alert at the end of the hour led to my outburst.
I felt like I was doing everything, and even that, I wasn't even handling the memorization bit of the Quran with the kids. Meltdown description? Well, let's just say I retreated to my air-conditioned room, under the covers, while Baby Z screamed his lungs off, S and H sulked over their quarrel (which combined with Baby Z's reluctance to sleep, eventually led to my frayed nerves being lighted up), and N took in everything in her own stride. Hubby came home from the masjid to Baby Z's wails, and thought the kids were playing with him.
"Don't play with Z anymore. Go to sleep!"
I guess, it was only until he noticed that I was missing did he realize that something was amiss.
"Is Ummi mad?" he asked the kids.
After brooding on this, I remembered this mistake I had once also done before; doing tafseer with all of them. I had told myself, to learn from that mistake, and only do tafseer with one of them, and have the others listen. I can still recall the difficulties of scheduling lessons with the kids when Baby Z was younger, because of his nursing schedule. I had tried nursing him while teaching the kids, but that had robbed him of his much needed sleep. So I moved to the room, nursing him there till he falls asleep, but he always takes an hour to nurse before falling asleep. I couldn't train him to fall asleep by himself because of his eczema and allergies. When he starts scratching, that's it, I'm back to square one.
I had told the kids,
"The Prophet sallallaahu alayhi wasallam said that the best deed is that done continuously even if little. So the best deed is not necessarily someone praying 20 rakaah at night, but only that one night, but maybe praying 2 rakaah each night, but every night."
I explained to them how the best deed is not one that is done the most, but one that is done with consistency, and further explained to them why I had cut down their Quran reading to half a page per person (except for S) instead of a full page (to save me from burnout and stopping it altogether).
"But you read many pages when you were small," said H, reminding me of what I had told them of my childhood Quran reading experiences.
My Ustaz wouldn't tell me how much I would be reading each time, but would just tell me to read until he felt it was enough.
"Yeah, I sure did."
I couldn't come up with any explanations or elaborations.
Now, thinking back, I could probably have said,
"But he wasn't doing everything. Right now, I am."
I was only supposed to handle N's Quran reading, with the tafseer, but since hubby hasn't been doing the reading with S and H, I did it with them, with tafseer. At the time, it wasn't overwhelming, but at the end of the day, the repeat of nursing Baby Z for one hour, only to have him fresh and alert at the end of the hour led to my outburst.
I felt like I was doing everything, and even that, I wasn't even handling the memorization bit of the Quran with the kids. Meltdown description? Well, let's just say I retreated to my air-conditioned room, under the covers, while Baby Z screamed his lungs off, S and H sulked over their quarrel (which combined with Baby Z's reluctance to sleep, eventually led to my frayed nerves being lighted up), and N took in everything in her own stride. Hubby came home from the masjid to Baby Z's wails, and thought the kids were playing with him.
"Don't play with Z anymore. Go to sleep!"
I guess, it was only until he noticed that I was missing did he realize that something was amiss.
"Is Ummi mad?" he asked the kids.
After brooding on this, I remembered this mistake I had once also done before; doing tafseer with all of them. I had told myself, to learn from that mistake, and only do tafseer with one of them, and have the others listen. I can still recall the difficulties of scheduling lessons with the kids when Baby Z was younger, because of his nursing schedule. I had tried nursing him while teaching the kids, but that had robbed him of his much needed sleep. So I moved to the room, nursing him there till he falls asleep, but he always takes an hour to nurse before falling asleep. I couldn't train him to fall asleep by himself because of his eczema and allergies. When he starts scratching, that's it, I'm back to square one.
I had told the kids,
"The Prophet sallallaahu alayhi wasallam said that the best deed is that done continuously even if little. So the best deed is not necessarily someone praying 20 rakaah at night, but only that one night, but maybe praying 2 rakaah each night, but every night."
I explained to them how the best deed is not one that is done the most, but one that is done with consistency, and further explained to them why I had cut down their Quran reading to half a page per person (except for S) instead of a full page (to save me from burnout and stopping it altogether).
"But you read many pages when you were small," said H, reminding me of what I had told them of my childhood Quran reading experiences.
My Ustaz wouldn't tell me how much I would be reading each time, but would just tell me to read until he felt it was enough.
"Yeah, I sure did."
I couldn't come up with any explanations or elaborations.
Now, thinking back, I could probably have said,
"But he wasn't doing everything. Right now, I am."
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Outdoor Arabic
We had a meeting again yesterday, to discuss how and when we're going to do Arabic, Tajweed, Memorization, and Quran.
"Who wants to be the scribe?" I exclaim.
"Me!"
"Me!"
"Me!"
"Ok, I'll ask again. Who raises his/her hand first gets to be the scribe. Ok, ready?"
"Who wants to be the scribe?"
"Ok, N's the scribe."
At the end of the meeting, we decided :
1. Arabic will be done outdoors, dictation-style, vocabulary-focused, in the mornings when we take our morning walks
2. Memorization will be done throughout the week
3. Review of memorized surahs will be done sub'ee-style between Zuhr and Asr
4. Quran reading will be done whenever I am available
5. Tajweed will be done between Zuhr and Asr (I just need 15 minutes for it)
So today, we commenced our Arabic at the 'big' playground in Buckeye Village.
The only thing that puts a damper on our schedule planning is Baby Z's schedule. His schedule has really taken some wild turns. I was beginning to think that he is settling down into a regular schedule, but apparently, I was proved wrong. I would spend an hour nursing him to sleep, only to have him alert and fresh at the end of the hour. Subsequently, I gave up trying to put him to sleep at the appropriate times, and only waited until he is somewhat sleepy, lest I spend hours nursing him to sleep but to no avail.
This morning, we had another one of those sessions where I nursed him both sides, for one hour total, and at the end, he started scratching his neck, and woke up.
"Kids! Take him, you guys go first, I'll catch up!"
I hollered to the kids in frustration, and proceeded to the bathroom to take my shower.
So they went ahead, all four of them, to the playground, while I showered and ate breakfast. When I got there, Baby Z was sitting demurely in his stroller, happy as a lark, and the kids were swinging.
"Where'd you guys want to do it? At that table over there?"
They were all excited to do the Arabic dictation. So, under the late morning sun, we all sat at the picnic table, and did our outdoor Arabic. The kids took out their folders containing loose leaf handwriting papers, and I opened our Gateway to Arabic Book 1 for some vocabulary. Meanwhile, Baby Z sat in his stroller, minding his own business, that is, until he began to stand up and gestured to be picked up.
While saddling him on my hips, I dictated the Arabic words to the kids. Fascinated by his surroundings, Baby Z pointed to everything, uttering soft babbles. Straddling him across my tummy, I held his back and swung him around like a helicopter propeller, to which he squealed in utter delight. After a while, he grew heavier in my arms, the kids' demand for more words, and having to check their spelling tired me. This was easier in theory than in practice, at least because of Baby Z. That is basically the summary of my experience homeschooling with a nursing baby; it's a vicious continuous cycle of juggling challenge, in fact, the ultimate juggling challenge, at least in my life experience.
Nevertheless, we did get our outdoor Arabic, plus some Quranic vocabulary. I guess I'll settle with that for now.
"Who wants to be the scribe?" I exclaim.
"Me!"
"Me!"
"Me!"
"Ok, I'll ask again. Who raises his/her hand first gets to be the scribe. Ok, ready?"
"Who wants to be the scribe?"
"Ok, N's the scribe."
At the end of the meeting, we decided :
1. Arabic will be done outdoors, dictation-style, vocabulary-focused, in the mornings when we take our morning walks
2. Memorization will be done throughout the week
3. Review of memorized surahs will be done sub'ee-style between Zuhr and Asr
4. Quran reading will be done whenever I am available
5. Tajweed will be done between Zuhr and Asr (I just need 15 minutes for it)
So today, we commenced our Arabic at the 'big' playground in Buckeye Village.
The only thing that puts a damper on our schedule planning is Baby Z's schedule. His schedule has really taken some wild turns. I was beginning to think that he is settling down into a regular schedule, but apparently, I was proved wrong. I would spend an hour nursing him to sleep, only to have him alert and fresh at the end of the hour. Subsequently, I gave up trying to put him to sleep at the appropriate times, and only waited until he is somewhat sleepy, lest I spend hours nursing him to sleep but to no avail.
This morning, we had another one of those sessions where I nursed him both sides, for one hour total, and at the end, he started scratching his neck, and woke up.
"Kids! Take him, you guys go first, I'll catch up!"
I hollered to the kids in frustration, and proceeded to the bathroom to take my shower.
So they went ahead, all four of them, to the playground, while I showered and ate breakfast. When I got there, Baby Z was sitting demurely in his stroller, happy as a lark, and the kids were swinging.
"Where'd you guys want to do it? At that table over there?"
They were all excited to do the Arabic dictation. So, under the late morning sun, we all sat at the picnic table, and did our outdoor Arabic. The kids took out their folders containing loose leaf handwriting papers, and I opened our Gateway to Arabic Book 1 for some vocabulary. Meanwhile, Baby Z sat in his stroller, minding his own business, that is, until he began to stand up and gestured to be picked up.
While saddling him on my hips, I dictated the Arabic words to the kids. Fascinated by his surroundings, Baby Z pointed to everything, uttering soft babbles. Straddling him across my tummy, I held his back and swung him around like a helicopter propeller, to which he squealed in utter delight. After a while, he grew heavier in my arms, the kids' demand for more words, and having to check their spelling tired me. This was easier in theory than in practice, at least because of Baby Z. That is basically the summary of my experience homeschooling with a nursing baby; it's a vicious continuous cycle of juggling challenge, in fact, the ultimate juggling challenge, at least in my life experience.
Nevertheless, we did get our outdoor Arabic, plus some Quranic vocabulary. I guess I'll settle with that for now.
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