On the Side

"You can go out after 7:30, but do your surah now," boomed hubby's voice before he left for his soccer game.

I was bustling in the kitchen, trying to whip something up so we won't go lunchless tomorrow. As usual, everything has to be done pre-tomorrow in our house. I've gotten used to cooking tomorrow's lunch and dinner the day before since we started homeschooling. Where I once bustled through the kitchen after Fajr everyday while hubby gave the toddlers and baby their morning baths, now I bustle in the kitchen after 4 pm almost everyday preparing future meals. I couldn't afford to cook after Fajr anymore, because the slot is filled up with teaching.

They scampered to do their surah while I peeled, chopped, sliced and ruminated at the dining table. H and S went upstairs. N remained downstairs and used the computer for reciter.org. After a while,

"Ok, come recite what you've memorized to me," I said.

S was the first one.

"Is H doing his surah?" I asked her, dreading her answer.

She paused. My heart beat faster. I wasn't too keen on shouting to him from the kitchen for him to do his surah. It was either the muscle of the voice box, or the rest of the muscles in my body. Despite my eagerness to tone up, I wasn't that eager to put my lazy muscles to good use by running up the stairs. I'd rather exercise my voice box muscles.

"Well, he's playing with his car while listening," she answered.

Well, at least he's not reading or totally ignoring our orders, I thought. I let it go. Inside, I sighed with relief at not having to do a larynx workout.

Once S was done, I let her go play outside. H was next. Surah An-Naaziat is his current assignment. He fumbled with the first 5 ayah. I made faces at him. He giggled. I prodded him when he made mistakes. His recitation became garbled with an weepy whine. I ignored him. His recitation returned to normal. Gee, I'm getting good at this. Just ignore his impending cries, and he'll snap back to reality.

With the dryer roaring and the water gushing out of the faucet, I hollered for him to raise his voice. Weird how they can shout in your ears but recite the Quran in such soft voices.

When he was done, I hailed N. She sat on the chair and started reciting her An-Naba. I was frying boneless chicken cubes. Facing spitting hot oil that was threatening to adorn me with pock marks, I strained to listen to her recitation. I hate frying but I was also left with a somewhat dead brain this afternoon. I think forgoing lunch everyday for a week was not such a great idea. I didn't do it on purpose though. I gues my brain was too busy trying to figure things out I didn't even have any appetite. So I opted for the dumb choice. Oh well, alhamdulillah I didn't get any second degree burn or worse on my face. I already have one on my hand.

When I looked at the clock, it was 8:20pm. I ushered her out so she could play before maghrib came in. They played outside. I finished frying the chicken pieces, mopped the oil-splattered floor, and yelled for them to take their shower. Such is the life of a mother. Very honorable, eh.

At any rate, I have it better now than I did a few years back where S was reduced to tears struggling to memorize her surahs. We struggled in pain in the beginning of this summer but Alhamdulillah Allah came to our aid.

Since I have temporarily abandoned my memorization due to my monthly guest, I was subtly reminded today when N softly recited part of Surah Yusuf. As she recited it, I joined in. Pretty soon I was reciting what I memorized. Aghast, I realized that I had forgotten the most recent ayat. Immediately I turned to the computer and played Sa'd Ghamidee's recitation. I secured that one ayah today. Jazakillah khair N, for reminding me.