I didn't grow up on fast food. Alhamdulillah, due to my father's love for Minang food, I grew up eating my greens under the watchful eye and sharp tongue of my grandmother.
"If you want to look young, eat your greens," she would say, and I would hastily eat my greens.
Somehow most people in my family value a youthful appearance, and attribute it to healthy eating. I thus became fearful of shrivelling like a raisin, and heeded every tip there was in order to delay the onset of aging, even before I began aging. There was one time where my aunt made a comment,
"Nadia, your hair doesn't shine as it used to. Don't you eat your tomatoes?"
However, that doesn't mean I necessarily have good eating habits growing up. I binged on all the junk food I could get, and downed gallons of soda on a daily basis in college. It didn't last long though.
When I became pregnant with S, I abandoned my bad eating habits. No more sodas, no more junk food. Up to this day, I still practice the same regimen, though with some flexibility here and there.
Yesterday I made burger patties. I fed my children burgers for lunch. It was my first experiment. It was a successful one alhamdulillah. I suspected the patties to shrink while cooking, yet I uderestimated its capacity to fill. Each of us ate two burgers. By the time I was halfway through my second one, I grew increasingly drowsy, and very full.
That evening, as we walked back to our van from Target, I asked the kids,
"Do you want burger for dinner tonight?"
To my ultimate shock, disappointment and surprise, not to mention a little irritation, they all shook their heads.
It was a completely different picture from the one where they were jumping with joy when I mentioned that we were going to eat burgers for lunch. We very very rarely eat out, so they would savor any chance of eating out, especially fast food.
"Why?" I asked, somewhat annoyed, due to the fact that I hadn't prepared anything else for dinner.
"It makes us full," replied S.
I was miffed, irritated, annoyed, pleased, and overjoyed at the same time. Of course, this just means that it's all up to me to provide my family with homemade food most of the time. At the thought, my jubilant smile dimmed, my shoulders slumped, and a heavy sigh escaped me.
I say this again, for the umpteenth time: mothers would be the wealthiest people on earth, if they are paid for all they do. I'll wait for my compensation from Allah.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Mrs. Frisby & the Rats of Nimh
I grew up reading Enid Blyton's books. I was and still am a voracious reader. Apparently that trait has been handed down to my children.
Beep!
Under the scanner.
Beep!
"Uh oh," chirped the librarian, as I frowned while trying to check out the pile of books H had gathered.
"Oh, you've already checked out 50, which is the maximum. Do you have another card?"
Librarians are known to be helpful and friendly people. That well known fact is proved at that very moment.
I shook my head, thinking I should have brought hubby's card along.
I told H to pick out which books he really wanted to check out, and we left the library with a pile of books stacked up hign in his arms. On the way out, he dropped some, attracting stares. It was worse than if we had brought our huge library bag in. I hadn't expected the kids to check out books, so we left the bag in the van. The bag in the van actually contained Upper Arlington Library's books we had to return. The Discovery Place has 50 as a maximum limit, while Upper Arlington Library has 100 as its maximum.
As of now, we have 50 plus 97 library books at home. There were times when librarians have made comments at the amount of books we check out. Everytime we got in line to check our books out at the Upper Arlington Library, I feel self conscious.
Three kids. A set of book for each. They strive to defy the logic that all three can read the same book by taking turns. Each one wants to claim his/her own set of checked out library books.
Despite all that, they do devour the library books like a hungry person devours a table set with steaming fresh food. S can finish reading a 1 inch thick chapter book in a matter of hours. H seems to be following in her footsteps. N is somewhat lagging behind, but she has her own reasons for lagging; she observes the detailed lines and colors of the illustrations.
Just today, as S was doing her reading assignment, I took it upon myself to read the novel she was assigned: Mrs Frisby and the Rats of Nimh. I had started reading it weeks ago but was interrupted, and totally forgot about it. I picked up where I left off this morning, and spent the rest of the morning finishing up the whole book. At the end of it, I exclaimed,
"I LOVE this book!"
Suffice it to say, I love reading children's books. I don't actually have the time to read it, what with also reading adult books, but when I'm sitting with the kids, I make the time.
They have stopped watching TV for about a month or more now alhamdulillah, with no complaints. Usually, kids turn deaf when they're watching TV. My kids lose all sense of hearing when they read. I don't know if it's worse than them watching TV, or the same. Either way, you will speak only to yourself if you try to get them to respond to you while they have their noses buried deep in their books.
It is during these times that I tend to pick up one of those books lying around (there are ALWAYS books lying around the living room, couch, bed, bedroom floor) and read them. I couldn't help giggling and chortling as I read Junie B Jones yesterday.
"Does she speak funny?" I asked S.
She nodded.
As I read out loud some funny sentences in the book, H said,
"Ummi! Don't! If not I won't be able to read it anymore!"
I heeded him, only for a while, and for the rest of the evening, I read out loud Junie's peculiar sentences, much to his annoyance.
We really need more Islamic fiction. We need them really BAD. Even the Islamic schools are using non Muslim fiction since we don't have enough Islamic fiction.
Beep!
Under the scanner.
Beep!
"Uh oh," chirped the librarian, as I frowned while trying to check out the pile of books H had gathered.
"Oh, you've already checked out 50, which is the maximum. Do you have another card?"
Librarians are known to be helpful and friendly people. That well known fact is proved at that very moment.
I shook my head, thinking I should have brought hubby's card along.
I told H to pick out which books he really wanted to check out, and we left the library with a pile of books stacked up hign in his arms. On the way out, he dropped some, attracting stares. It was worse than if we had brought our huge library bag in. I hadn't expected the kids to check out books, so we left the bag in the van. The bag in the van actually contained Upper Arlington Library's books we had to return. The Discovery Place has 50 as a maximum limit, while Upper Arlington Library has 100 as its maximum.
As of now, we have 50 plus 97 library books at home. There were times when librarians have made comments at the amount of books we check out. Everytime we got in line to check our books out at the Upper Arlington Library, I feel self conscious.
Three kids. A set of book for each. They strive to defy the logic that all three can read the same book by taking turns. Each one wants to claim his/her own set of checked out library books.
Despite all that, they do devour the library books like a hungry person devours a table set with steaming fresh food. S can finish reading a 1 inch thick chapter book in a matter of hours. H seems to be following in her footsteps. N is somewhat lagging behind, but she has her own reasons for lagging; she observes the detailed lines and colors of the illustrations.
Just today, as S was doing her reading assignment, I took it upon myself to read the novel she was assigned: Mrs Frisby and the Rats of Nimh. I had started reading it weeks ago but was interrupted, and totally forgot about it. I picked up where I left off this morning, and spent the rest of the morning finishing up the whole book. At the end of it, I exclaimed,
"I LOVE this book!"
Suffice it to say, I love reading children's books. I don't actually have the time to read it, what with also reading adult books, but when I'm sitting with the kids, I make the time.
They have stopped watching TV for about a month or more now alhamdulillah, with no complaints. Usually, kids turn deaf when they're watching TV. My kids lose all sense of hearing when they read. I don't know if it's worse than them watching TV, or the same. Either way, you will speak only to yourself if you try to get them to respond to you while they have their noses buried deep in their books.
It is during these times that I tend to pick up one of those books lying around (there are ALWAYS books lying around the living room, couch, bed, bedroom floor) and read them. I couldn't help giggling and chortling as I read Junie B Jones yesterday.
"Does she speak funny?" I asked S.
She nodded.
As I read out loud some funny sentences in the book, H said,
"Ummi! Don't! If not I won't be able to read it anymore!"
I heeded him, only for a while, and for the rest of the evening, I read out loud Junie's peculiar sentences, much to his annoyance.
We really need more Islamic fiction. We need them really BAD. Even the Islamic schools are using non Muslim fiction since we don't have enough Islamic fiction.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Saved By July 4th
Alhamdulillah, the masjid WILL have summer program this year insyaallah. I've been waiting for them to take the children off my hands at least for a few hours each day this summer. At first I thought it wasn't going to happen, but looks like it will insyaallah.
My advice to the kids:
1. H, there might be boys who will say bad words. You don't have to hang out with them.
2. Remember, if you see something wrong happening, do something about it.
3. If you need to tell a grown up, tell a grown up.
4. If the grown up doesn't listen to you, tell Ummi or Abi.
The summer program itself is great, except for the fact that S and N are always misfits. S exceeds the level of kids her age in her recitation and reading, but she refused to join the big girls group last year, so she came home complaining that it was all too easy and boring for her. As for N, it was the same thing. They made her write Arabic letters individually, when she already knows how to connect them. She came home complaining that it was too easy too.
However, what I really wanted was for them to be with the other kids, but this has proved to be a problem too.
I was one of the chaperone for a field trip last year to COSI, so I had some girls in the van with us. I was utterly shocked to hear their conversation with each other. If that is what they pick up at public school, I'm thankful I don't send my kids to the public school. That is also what hinders me from actually dishing out my kids to the neighborhood Muslim kids. You read that correctly, Muslim kids.
Nevertheless I still think it's important for the kids to be in an environement where they're learning Islam (something is better than nothing). They can reap the benefits from interaction with their teachers. I need a break too.
So it seems like summer is off to a start finally. It's almost July. Our summer starts pretty late. In July, things are going to be hectic, what with S's 9 year old well check up with a new lady doctor, COSi summer camp, and finishing up OHVA curiculum.
S is already in need of a female doctor, which I requested at the last visit. She has started to consistently wear hijab everytime she goes out of the house, and soon I will have to actually sit her down and talk about some serious stuff. Subhanallah. How fast time does fly!
May Allah protect and preserve their innocence and purity. Ameen.
Sa'd Al Ghaamidee and Abdul Basit are now our audio companions, night and day. Now, we just need a new van so we can listen to the CDs.
Oh Allah, the only reason I would want us to be in a better financial situation would be so that we could get a new van wherewith we can listen to the CDs, and so we can spend the money in Your way. You are the provider, please provide us with not too much, and not too little. Please protect us from riba. AMEEN.
My advice to the kids:
1. H, there might be boys who will say bad words. You don't have to hang out with them.
2. Remember, if you see something wrong happening, do something about it.
3. If you need to tell a grown up, tell a grown up.
4. If the grown up doesn't listen to you, tell Ummi or Abi.
The summer program itself is great, except for the fact that S and N are always misfits. S exceeds the level of kids her age in her recitation and reading, but she refused to join the big girls group last year, so she came home complaining that it was all too easy and boring for her. As for N, it was the same thing. They made her write Arabic letters individually, when she already knows how to connect them. She came home complaining that it was too easy too.
However, what I really wanted was for them to be with the other kids, but this has proved to be a problem too.
I was one of the chaperone for a field trip last year to COSI, so I had some girls in the van with us. I was utterly shocked to hear their conversation with each other. If that is what they pick up at public school, I'm thankful I don't send my kids to the public school. That is also what hinders me from actually dishing out my kids to the neighborhood Muslim kids. You read that correctly, Muslim kids.
Nevertheless I still think it's important for the kids to be in an environement where they're learning Islam (something is better than nothing). They can reap the benefits from interaction with their teachers. I need a break too.
So it seems like summer is off to a start finally. It's almost July. Our summer starts pretty late. In July, things are going to be hectic, what with S's 9 year old well check up with a new lady doctor, COSi summer camp, and finishing up OHVA curiculum.
S is already in need of a female doctor, which I requested at the last visit. She has started to consistently wear hijab everytime she goes out of the house, and soon I will have to actually sit her down and talk about some serious stuff. Subhanallah. How fast time does fly!
May Allah protect and preserve their innocence and purity. Ameen.
Sa'd Al Ghaamidee and Abdul Basit are now our audio companions, night and day. Now, we just need a new van so we can listen to the CDs.
Oh Allah, the only reason I would want us to be in a better financial situation would be so that we could get a new van wherewith we can listen to the CDs, and so we can spend the money in Your way. You are the provider, please provide us with not too much, and not too little. Please protect us from riba. AMEEN.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Not My Day
I dread teaching N. I truly do, because I just know I WILL lose my patience with her. Of all the kids, she is the most different. That said, her 'different' can be good and bad. When it's bad, it's really bad.
I dread doing Language Arts with her. I dread doing math problems with her. All because she tends to dream, and answer me in a barely audible voice. As a consequence, she is always behind, because I fear working with her.
Today is truly not my day. I hate it when I go all berserk, and when I work with N, and we have to go all the way around a problem solving question, even back to the basics, I just declare it a bad day for myself. This is also not a first time. She seems to be having a LOT of problems doing lengthy math problems. Direct addition and subtraction are fine, but when it comes to problem solving, I don't have the patience it takes to get her through all of it. We work on a part of the problem, and by the time we get to the bigger picture, she has forgotten what it was all about, and I have forgotten there is a thing called patience.
Not my day, indeed.
I dread doing Language Arts with her. I dread doing math problems with her. All because she tends to dream, and answer me in a barely audible voice. As a consequence, she is always behind, because I fear working with her.
Today is truly not my day. I hate it when I go all berserk, and when I work with N, and we have to go all the way around a problem solving question, even back to the basics, I just declare it a bad day for myself. This is also not a first time. She seems to be having a LOT of problems doing lengthy math problems. Direct addition and subtraction are fine, but when it comes to problem solving, I don't have the patience it takes to get her through all of it. We work on a part of the problem, and by the time we get to the bigger picture, she has forgotten what it was all about, and I have forgotten there is a thing called patience.
Not my day, indeed.
Friday, June 23, 2006
A Household Treasure
"My advice for those of you who are married is to make sure you keep the Quran in your household. Make sure your children memorize it, or you can divide it up between the husband and wife. If the husband memorizes 2/3 of it then maybe the wife can memorize the remaining 1/3. You can also divide it up between the children."
That was what Muhammad Faqih told us last weekend. It gave me a goal to reach for, and out of habit, I told the kids. In fact, they asked me,
"So what stories did your teacher tell you this time?"
It all started when I took Abdulbary's class. Abdulbary is just chock full of stories that I had to share them with the kids. I suppose, after seeing me taking one AlMaghrib class after the other, the kids expect me to come home and entertain them with stories. Since they themselves attended Yasir Qadhi's Light of Guidance, they can attest for themselves how wonderful it is to be in such an environment.
Just yesterday, S was suddenly driven to go to reciter.org and continue her memorization of Al Buruj. We had talked about finishing Juz Amma for her this summer, and I just pray we will have enough discipline to carry that out to perfection, insyaallah. I've been using her to check my Juz Amma recitation, and I can see that it made her feel very important. It also made me think how Shaytaan is actually hindering me from progressing because I keep wanting to perfect my Juz Amma after each rusting. I no longer have any excuse. I need to move on and recapture Juz 29, and pick up where I left off.
"How many of you here have memorized the whole Quran?" asked Muhammad Faqih.
Two to three hands shot up from the sisters' side. None from the brothers. Disappointing indeed.
"What's happening to the brothers here?" he lamented.
I now take it upon myself to do my best for the future of the ummah insyaallah. We do take the Quran for granted. Just because we have copies of the mushaf collecting dust on our shelves, we thwart suggestions to memorize it. I can only think back with dismay at the lack of depth I experienced when doing Qiyam, for I only memorize so much of the Quran that my prayers only lasted a few measly minutes. I suppose now is the time for change, for ALL of us, insyaallah. I have very high regard and love for the Qurra, now, more than ever. May Allah guide us all in their footsteps, ameen.
That was what Muhammad Faqih told us last weekend. It gave me a goal to reach for, and out of habit, I told the kids. In fact, they asked me,
"So what stories did your teacher tell you this time?"
It all started when I took Abdulbary's class. Abdulbary is just chock full of stories that I had to share them with the kids. I suppose, after seeing me taking one AlMaghrib class after the other, the kids expect me to come home and entertain them with stories. Since they themselves attended Yasir Qadhi's Light of Guidance, they can attest for themselves how wonderful it is to be in such an environment.
Just yesterday, S was suddenly driven to go to reciter.org and continue her memorization of Al Buruj. We had talked about finishing Juz Amma for her this summer, and I just pray we will have enough discipline to carry that out to perfection, insyaallah. I've been using her to check my Juz Amma recitation, and I can see that it made her feel very important. It also made me think how Shaytaan is actually hindering me from progressing because I keep wanting to perfect my Juz Amma after each rusting. I no longer have any excuse. I need to move on and recapture Juz 29, and pick up where I left off.
"How many of you here have memorized the whole Quran?" asked Muhammad Faqih.
Two to three hands shot up from the sisters' side. None from the brothers. Disappointing indeed.
"What's happening to the brothers here?" he lamented.
I now take it upon myself to do my best for the future of the ummah insyaallah. We do take the Quran for granted. Just because we have copies of the mushaf collecting dust on our shelves, we thwart suggestions to memorize it. I can only think back with dismay at the lack of depth I experienced when doing Qiyam, for I only memorize so much of the Quran that my prayers only lasted a few measly minutes. I suppose now is the time for change, for ALL of us, insyaallah. I have very high regard and love for the Qurra, now, more than ever. May Allah guide us all in their footsteps, ameen.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
The Finger
The thing I feared the most : things happening to the kids while we were in Dearborn.
N was scratched by a squirrel two days before we left for Dearborn. Hubby went a little bit over the edge in insisting we call the doctor. Alhamdulillah, "Not many squirrels in Ohio have rabies anymore." Nevertheless, I was still worried about it.
The fact that she was scratched by the squirrel itself was extremely strange because squirrels usually flee when approached. According to N, she was trying to pet it, and it scratched her.
H's finger was burned. Apparently he was playing with the glue gun (no idea how he ever got hold of it). According to him, N gave him permission to use it, and according to N, she didn't. I will never know the truth.
I called on Saturday, or was it Friday night, when A told me about the 'accident'. I talked to H on Saturday. He seemed fine.
Today, the spot bled again and we went to the doctor. By the time we walked out of the doctor's office, H had a mummified right hand.
H seemed to try very hard not to make me any more worried than I was when I talked to him on the phone. H kept saying it didn't hurt. I simply didn't believe it. I think he was trying to be Spartan.
N admitted today that she cried Sunday because she missed us. It wasn't easy leaving the kids. Nor is it easy bringing them along.
At any rate, all of them learned some lessons this past week: not to play with electrical plugs, and not to pet wild animals.
I'm beginning to worry about what other trouble H would get into. Curious inquisitive boys, and curious little girls.
N was scratched by a squirrel two days before we left for Dearborn. Hubby went a little bit over the edge in insisting we call the doctor. Alhamdulillah, "Not many squirrels in Ohio have rabies anymore." Nevertheless, I was still worried about it.
The fact that she was scratched by the squirrel itself was extremely strange because squirrels usually flee when approached. According to N, she was trying to pet it, and it scratched her.
H's finger was burned. Apparently he was playing with the glue gun (no idea how he ever got hold of it). According to him, N gave him permission to use it, and according to N, she didn't. I will never know the truth.
I called on Saturday, or was it Friday night, when A told me about the 'accident'. I talked to H on Saturday. He seemed fine.
Today, the spot bled again and we went to the doctor. By the time we walked out of the doctor's office, H had a mummified right hand.
H seemed to try very hard not to make me any more worried than I was when I talked to him on the phone. H kept saying it didn't hurt. I simply didn't believe it. I think he was trying to be Spartan.
N admitted today that she cried Sunday because she missed us. It wasn't easy leaving the kids. Nor is it easy bringing them along.
At any rate, all of them learned some lessons this past week: not to play with electrical plugs, and not to pet wild animals.
I'm beginning to worry about what other trouble H would get into. Curious inquisitive boys, and curious little girls.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Leaving Them
Hubby and I are going to Dearborn, MI today to attend Route 114. They don't have babysitting so we had to leave the kids.
So far we have left the kids twice; once when we went to Hawaii and another time when we left them for the second weekend during Fiqh Of love in Indianapolis.
"I don't like it when both you and Abi leave us," said S.
"Oh, why?" I asked. It was the first time she ever expressed that sentiment, and to be honest, I was somewhat surprised. I thought they enjoyed not having us hover over them all the time.
"Because it just doesn't feel good," she replied.
I remember S crying when I called home while we were in Hawaii. N cried too. Most of the time, they cried at night.
"Did you cry at night when Ummi and Abi were at Indianapolis?" I never thought to ask them this before.
"I'm not going to tell you," said S. That means yes.
N nodded.
"H, how do you feel about Ummi and Abi leaving?" I asked him at another time.
"Sad. No, actually happy, because I don't like Wisconsin."
"But we're not going to Wisconsin. We're going to Michigan. Remember the place that has the Halal McDonald's?"
"Oh, yeah! Waaaaaaaaaa...Then I feel sad, because I love Michigan."
After querying them and finding out how they trule feel about us both leaving them, I feel utterly sad leaving them.
When we left for Hawaii, I was enshrouded with guilt and sorrow. When we went to Indianapolis, I didn't have time to feel sad because we had to be there by 10 am, or they would close the door on us. Today, since yesterday, I felt somber.
We're also going to be travelling with brothers and sisters who are either not married yet or don't have kids yet, so this feeling will be even more prominent because I don't have anyone to share them with. When I went to Ann Arbor with the sisters, I felt sad leaving hubby and the kids, but I soon distracted myself by being around other people.
This time though, both hubby and I are leaving. I had cooked a lot of food that the freezer is now so packed. The fact of the matter is; whether we leave the kids or bring them, I still have to do a lot of work. If we leave them, I have to make sure they have food and that their babysitter doesn't have to cook. If we bring them, well, let's just say it's a hassle I wouldn't want to go through every week.
However, it's enlightening to know that these kids don't like to be left behind. I always thought they rather enjoyed it.
So far we have left the kids twice; once when we went to Hawaii and another time when we left them for the second weekend during Fiqh Of love in Indianapolis.
"I don't like it when both you and Abi leave us," said S.
"Oh, why?" I asked. It was the first time she ever expressed that sentiment, and to be honest, I was somewhat surprised. I thought they enjoyed not having us hover over them all the time.
"Because it just doesn't feel good," she replied.
I remember S crying when I called home while we were in Hawaii. N cried too. Most of the time, they cried at night.
"Did you cry at night when Ummi and Abi were at Indianapolis?" I never thought to ask them this before.
"I'm not going to tell you," said S. That means yes.
N nodded.
"H, how do you feel about Ummi and Abi leaving?" I asked him at another time.
"Sad. No, actually happy, because I don't like Wisconsin."
"But we're not going to Wisconsin. We're going to Michigan. Remember the place that has the Halal McDonald's?"
"Oh, yeah! Waaaaaaaaaa...Then I feel sad, because I love Michigan."
After querying them and finding out how they trule feel about us both leaving them, I feel utterly sad leaving them.
When we left for Hawaii, I was enshrouded with guilt and sorrow. When we went to Indianapolis, I didn't have time to feel sad because we had to be there by 10 am, or they would close the door on us. Today, since yesterday, I felt somber.
We're also going to be travelling with brothers and sisters who are either not married yet or don't have kids yet, so this feeling will be even more prominent because I don't have anyone to share them with. When I went to Ann Arbor with the sisters, I felt sad leaving hubby and the kids, but I soon distracted myself by being around other people.
This time though, both hubby and I are leaving. I had cooked a lot of food that the freezer is now so packed. The fact of the matter is; whether we leave the kids or bring them, I still have to do a lot of work. If we leave them, I have to make sure they have food and that their babysitter doesn't have to cook. If we bring them, well, let's just say it's a hassle I wouldn't want to go through every week.
However, it's enlightening to know that these kids don't like to be left behind. I always thought they rather enjoyed it.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
The Techie
"When can I be the imam?" S asked me when we were about to pray Maghrib.
"When you pray with N you can be the imam," I replied.
"The one who knows the most is supposed to be the one who becomes the imam," I continued.
"But sometimes you forget your surahs," she said.
"But I still know more than you right now," I said.
It's true. I'm so bad about my some surahs that while we were praying, S had had to clad her left hand to indicate that i was making a mistake.
Last night, I chose to recite a surah I knew I have problems with. Of course, I fumbled with my recitation. S clapped. I repeated my recitation. I failed. I repeated it again. I failed.
"Ok, now you recite it to me," I said as soon as we gave salam.
"I can," said N.
"Ok, go ahead." I said.
She recited the surah. When she reached the point where I fumbled, I exclaimed,
"I DID say that. S, why did you keep on clapping?"
"No. You missed a letter," she insisted.
She was sitting at the computer, and began to type on the keyboard.
"Maybe you can check on reciter.org," I said, as she began typing.
"That's what I was going to do," she replied.
She's beginning to sound like a teenager, I thought.
Reciter.org apparently failed to do her bidding, and I took over. It took quite a while for me to get it working, such that the kids were already in bed. I was still trying to load it. Suddenly H asked,
"Are you using Internet Explorer?"
"No. Firefox," I replied, thinking no more of his question while trying to load reciter.org
Then it suddenly came to me that he might have a point. They were all waiting for reciter.org, and all eyes were afixed on the glaring screen. It has been a while since I played reciter.org for them at bedtime.
"Oh yeah! Maybe I should try Internet Explorer!"
The mouse clicked rapidly and before long, reciter.org was ready to recite.
"Masyaallah! You're good, H!"
I didn't know what expression took over his face, but all was quiet when I expressed amazement at his astute observation and suggestion.
"What surah do you guys want to hear?"
"A long one!"
"The longest one!"
"Ok, I'll give you guys this one."
"Is it Al Baqarah?"
"No, it's Ar-Rahman. It's not that long but it has its own rhythm."
"Is Al Baqarah the longest one?"
"Yes."
"My teacher in high school made us memorize this surah when he was teaching us science," I said.
I closed the door, and left them listening to
"Fabi ayyi Aala irabbikumaa tukazzibaan?"
Internet Explorer vs Firefox. I guess at times we still have to take the older ones over the newest innovations. Fancy having a six year old as my techie consultant. Fancy having an eight year old correct my recitation.
"When you pray with N you can be the imam," I replied.
"The one who knows the most is supposed to be the one who becomes the imam," I continued.
"But sometimes you forget your surahs," she said.
"But I still know more than you right now," I said.
It's true. I'm so bad about my some surahs that while we were praying, S had had to clad her left hand to indicate that i was making a mistake.
Last night, I chose to recite a surah I knew I have problems with. Of course, I fumbled with my recitation. S clapped. I repeated my recitation. I failed. I repeated it again. I failed.
"Ok, now you recite it to me," I said as soon as we gave salam.
"I can," said N.
"Ok, go ahead." I said.
She recited the surah. When she reached the point where I fumbled, I exclaimed,
"I DID say that. S, why did you keep on clapping?"
"No. You missed a letter," she insisted.
She was sitting at the computer, and began to type on the keyboard.
"Maybe you can check on reciter.org," I said, as she began typing.
"That's what I was going to do," she replied.
She's beginning to sound like a teenager, I thought.
Reciter.org apparently failed to do her bidding, and I took over. It took quite a while for me to get it working, such that the kids were already in bed. I was still trying to load it. Suddenly H asked,
"Are you using Internet Explorer?"
"No. Firefox," I replied, thinking no more of his question while trying to load reciter.org
Then it suddenly came to me that he might have a point. They were all waiting for reciter.org, and all eyes were afixed on the glaring screen. It has been a while since I played reciter.org for them at bedtime.
"Oh yeah! Maybe I should try Internet Explorer!"
The mouse clicked rapidly and before long, reciter.org was ready to recite.
"Masyaallah! You're good, H!"
I didn't know what expression took over his face, but all was quiet when I expressed amazement at his astute observation and suggestion.
"What surah do you guys want to hear?"
"A long one!"
"The longest one!"
"Ok, I'll give you guys this one."
"Is it Al Baqarah?"
"No, it's Ar-Rahman. It's not that long but it has its own rhythm."
"Is Al Baqarah the longest one?"
"Yes."
"My teacher in high school made us memorize this surah when he was teaching us science," I said.
I closed the door, and left them listening to
"Fabi ayyi Aala irabbikumaa tukazzibaan?"
Internet Explorer vs Firefox. I guess at times we still have to take the older ones over the newest innovations. Fancy having a six year old as my techie consultant. Fancy having an eight year old correct my recitation.
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