Alhamdulillaah, the kids all fasted yaumul Arafah today.
Alhamdulillaah, the house is over 60% decluttered and I can walk around the house with peace on my mind.
Alhamdulillaah the baby is alive and kicking.
Tomorrow is Eid and tonight H has a presentation at the masjid after Isya for his AlFurqaan Quran program. (I just found out he is in a program that actually has a name)
Alhamdulillaah we got ourselves a chore chart and the house is much much cleaner and organized than it was weeks ago!
Our sheets are now being washed every week, the stairs dusted every day, bathtub, and sink scrubbed every day, laundry done thrice a week and most amazingly, the bookshelves in the living room have nothing on them for two weeks now! (when they used to piled up with junk before). Flylady is again welcome in our house. Ironic that I dropped her when I was pregnant with J and I'm picking her up again when I'm pregnant now.
May this continue for good insyaallah. This house (translate into kids and I & hubby) needs to run like a well-oiled machine especially with a new member of our family coming insyaAllah.
S made a newsletter cover and H made our next Seats of Scholars flyer. N's designs are still pretty kiddish, and I had to tell her she would make a great children's newsletter/magazine cover designer.
Starting January, H will be taking a hand sewing class, S continue her machine sewing class and a cake decorating class, H is in a basketball league and will be taking a pottery class with N. Hubby's driving schedule is full and that is not even including the dugsi yet.
January 25 is their Spelling Bee, for which they haven't actually studied. I am thinking of finishing up their school as fast as we can and then just focus on Quran memorization, insyaAllah.
Well, I guess with all that coming, we had maybe better focus on the Eid tomorrow for now.
Eid Mubarak everyone!
Friday, December 29, 2006
Monday, December 18, 2006
Dua After Azan
"Dua, dua!" I hollered. The azan was just called.
"H made dua to memorize the Quran before he's 10," said S after they were done.
"Masyaallah, and since that's one of the best times to make dua, you just might get it insyaallah," I said.
"Yeah, but I still want candy and everything," H added.
"Sure," I said.
He's currently working on Surah Luqman after finishing his Ar-Rahman. I was just telling him yesterday about Imam Ahmad Hanbal memorising the Quran before the age of 10. Never thought he would take it to heart and make it his own aspiration. This time though, he chose Bukhaatir instead of our usual Saad Al-Ghamidee.
"H made dua to memorize the Quran before he's 10," said S after they were done.
"Masyaallah, and since that's one of the best times to make dua, you just might get it insyaallah," I said.
"Yeah, but I still want candy and everything," H added.
"Sure," I said.
He's currently working on Surah Luqman after finishing his Ar-Rahman. I was just telling him yesterday about Imam Ahmad Hanbal memorising the Quran before the age of 10. Never thought he would take it to heart and make it his own aspiration. This time though, he chose Bukhaatir instead of our usual Saad Al-Ghamidee.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Flyer Frenzy
The kids have been in a flyer frenzy recently, with the Leadership Conference coming up in January. In my attempt to introduce them to new skills I volunteered them to make posters/flyers for the event.
H already made one for our Seats of Scholars most recent class: Profile of Courage; Story of Imam Ahmad Ibn Hambal.
Next in line was S, and she made 5 flyers by herself, with some final finishing touches by me.
N did one too.
Unplanned, the event coordinator made a poster competition out of it all. The poll was closed this morning, and one of S's flyer won. Suffice it to say she's happy about it.
The Winning Poster by S
At least now, the kids have somewhat acquired poster-making skills, and found a way to fill their time, alhamdulillah.
Quran Milestones passed:
H finished memorizing his Surah Ar-Rahman last weekend.
S finished her Al Mursalat last weekend and is now working on Al Insaan.
N finished her Al Balad and is now working on Al Fajr.
S's other posters:
H's poster:
N's poster:
H already made one for our Seats of Scholars most recent class: Profile of Courage; Story of Imam Ahmad Ibn Hambal.
Next in line was S, and she made 5 flyers by herself, with some final finishing touches by me.
N did one too.
Unplanned, the event coordinator made a poster competition out of it all. The poll was closed this morning, and one of S's flyer won. Suffice it to say she's happy about it.
The Winning Poster by S
At least now, the kids have somewhat acquired poster-making skills, and found a way to fill their time, alhamdulillah.
Quran Milestones passed:
H finished memorizing his Surah Ar-Rahman last weekend.
S finished her Al Mursalat last weekend and is now working on Al Insaan.
N finished her Al Balad and is now working on Al Fajr.
S's other posters:
H's poster:
N's poster:
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Laundering by hand
I scrunched up the dirty tablecloth and proceeded to dunk it in the washer for washing. Then it struck me how uneconomical that is; to use the electricity and water just for washing a meager tablecloth by itself.
I decided to wash it by hand myself and climbed the stairs. It had occurred to me as I was trudging up the stairs that I probably am not in the best condition to bend down, squat and scrub away at the tablecloth in the bathtub. I saw H and motioned him to come near.
"I'm going to teach you how to wash this ok?"
He nodded, excited. Apparently, he wasn't aware of the elbow grease involved in laundering by hand, as I had encountered growing up in a boarding school.
"When I was younger I had to do this," I told him.
I turned on the faucet and soaked the tablecloth, handed him the red brush (which we had brought from Malaysia since we couldn't find any here) and told him to scrub it.
"Do I put soap?" he asked.
I nodded.
I soon left him with his 'chore'.
A few minutes later, we heard him chattering away to himself.
"...and then you wash all the soap off..."
"This is COOL!"
"This is COOL!"
I popped in and saw that he had gone in the bathtub, water runnning, and soap suds all over the place. What do you expect when you give a child soap and water in the bathroom? I chuckled and told him to make sure the bathrugs stay dry.
He closed the shower curtain and I told the girls to close the bathroom door so his chattering won't distract our salat.
I checked on him again, and voila! He had changed from his long sleeved shirt and long pants to his sleeveless shirt and denim shorts. To top it off, he was completely drenched! He looked at me with a big happy grin on his face, both arms up in the air like a V, and white soap suds dotting his crown. I couldn't help but exhale a surprised "Ya Allah!"
"Did you rinse the tablecloth?" I asked. (At least the job was done, what do you expect from a six year old?)
"Yeah!"
"Here, let me show you how to rinse it really dry," I said.
"But I did rinse it," came his answer, his expected answer to every correction I give him, be it in Quran recitation or secular stuff.
I showed him anyway, while he tried to brush the soap suds on his spiky hair away.
"So you think you can wash the tablecloth from now on?" I asked him when everything was done and cleaned. (The tablecloth was really clean, by the way. He did a good job!)
He nodded.
"Good," I said, and shooed him off for his Seerah lesson with HH, who was already waiting in their room.
So I guess I got myself a chatty launderer! It's good entertainment too. Two in one.
I decided to wash it by hand myself and climbed the stairs. It had occurred to me as I was trudging up the stairs that I probably am not in the best condition to bend down, squat and scrub away at the tablecloth in the bathtub. I saw H and motioned him to come near.
"I'm going to teach you how to wash this ok?"
He nodded, excited. Apparently, he wasn't aware of the elbow grease involved in laundering by hand, as I had encountered growing up in a boarding school.
"When I was younger I had to do this," I told him.
I turned on the faucet and soaked the tablecloth, handed him the red brush (which we had brought from Malaysia since we couldn't find any here) and told him to scrub it.
"Do I put soap?" he asked.
I nodded.
I soon left him with his 'chore'.
A few minutes later, we heard him chattering away to himself.
"...and then you wash all the soap off..."
"This is COOL!"
"This is COOL!"
I popped in and saw that he had gone in the bathtub, water runnning, and soap suds all over the place. What do you expect when you give a child soap and water in the bathroom? I chuckled and told him to make sure the bathrugs stay dry.
He closed the shower curtain and I told the girls to close the bathroom door so his chattering won't distract our salat.
I checked on him again, and voila! He had changed from his long sleeved shirt and long pants to his sleeveless shirt and denim shorts. To top it off, he was completely drenched! He looked at me with a big happy grin on his face, both arms up in the air like a V, and white soap suds dotting his crown. I couldn't help but exhale a surprised "Ya Allah!"
"Did you rinse the tablecloth?" I asked. (At least the job was done, what do you expect from a six year old?)
"Yeah!"
"Here, let me show you how to rinse it really dry," I said.
"But I did rinse it," came his answer, his expected answer to every correction I give him, be it in Quran recitation or secular stuff.
I showed him anyway, while he tried to brush the soap suds on his spiky hair away.
"So you think you can wash the tablecloth from now on?" I asked him when everything was done and cleaned. (The tablecloth was really clean, by the way. He did a good job!)
He nodded.
"Good," I said, and shooed him off for his Seerah lesson with HH, who was already waiting in their room.
So I guess I got myself a chatty launderer! It's good entertainment too. Two in one.
Starting with the Quran
Ever since the girls started going to dugsi, our lives have really changed, in the sense that I am learning more about the different people around me. Again I have to stress that this enriching experience is one that I will treasure for the rest of my life. That is why I love staying here in the midst of a multitude of different cultures. However, the difference between living here and in Malaysia, is the fact that the Muslims here are in a melting pot of their own, but in Malaysia we're all basically from the same mold. That variety in the Muslim world itself, is what makes these experiences so rich and it only increases my love for our Muslims sisters and brothers as a whole, alhamdulillah. I would love for my children to continue growing up in this environment, though it does render us both, parents and children in a continuous learning process. Nevertheless, I do believe it opens our eyes and widens our perception. I can better tolerate differences and will not immediately jump to judgments of other people, and in fact will try my best to see it from their perspectives while keeping my own or sometimes adjusting my own. Nothing better for tightening the bond between Muslims of different backgrounds, insyaallah.
The first time I went to the dugsi to pick up the girls, it was just after the dugsi was done. As I stepped in the masjid, Ifound myself facing a hoard of yelling, running and shoving teenage girls, mostly taller and bigger than my pregnant self. Of course my pregnancy wasn't that obvious with my attire. I literally was fearful for my and the baby's well being, as I found myself constantly struggling in my slow amble to dodge these girls who found it normal to shove people out of their ways.
As I made my way out of the foyer into the musalla area, younger girls came to me with bright faces and asked,
"Are you looking for S?"
"Are you S's mom?"
I nodded. Obviously finding my daughter was easy there, as we were the only non Somali in the masjid. We prayed Zuhr there and I couldn't help but notice that while we were praying, well, at least, while I was praying, a girl in front of me kept turning back to look at me. I suppose she was making sure the 'Chinese-looking' lady was actually praying and is a Muslim. I couldn't help but smile at the thought. It was funny yet somewhat endearing and cute. As I headed out with N alongside me, a girl about the age of ten, asked me,
"Are you her sister?"
"No, I'm her mom," I replied.
She looked taken aback and let out a surprised, "Ohh."
One thing I have to say about the Somalis : they are very friendly and warm people. If my girls were in a school full of Arabs, they would probably get a totally different treatment from the Arabs. Just one day in the dugsi, and my girls were already swarmed by these other girls who quickly became their friends. They are so friendly, just like their older counterparts who are my dearest sisters in Islam.
As H put it,
"They now have a group of their own at break time."
I do worry about bad influences as the girls came home one week telling me that two bigger girls got int trouble for passing notes in class, and the teacher, H, read out their notes out loud. Apparently it was about Hanna Montana, whom I know practically NOTHING about, but it bothered me that my kids were talking about it as if they knew the person so well. I dug more into what happens at the dugsi, but after further digging, I simply found out that my girls aer in a group of innocent girls insyaallah. Those girls who are TV-addicts are the ones whom are forced to go every week by their parents and the way of life is most probably not enforced at home. I am too familiar with that.
S is miserable though about her Quran memorization assignments. Yesterday I talked to R, who gave me some pointers on what to do about that.
1. Continuously play Quranic recitation by different qaris so they develop a love for hearing it.
2. Focus on listening to it as one would listen to music (well of course you also have to observe the ettiquettes)
3. Parents also have to be enthusiastic abuot memorising themselves.
Alhamdulillah, the kids are constantly 'chanting' Quran in the house, to the point that N would actually accidentally memorize something she wasn't assigned to memorize but would fail to memorize her own assignments.
I've also started to constantly have them read the Quran after either Zuhr or Asr. So far, after a few weeks, I have seen encouraging improvements in their pace and tajweed alhamdulillah. H does read faster than N though. I still have to learn to adapt and have more patience with N. She is so different than S and H.
I also was recently told that 4th grade is the turning point.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"It's when things start to get serious, as you have probably noticed," said HB.
I nodded agreeably. I have felt that since this school year started, and being told that only reinforces that belief. I am now in a frenzy trying to find S a planner. It's time for her to be more independent, though she already is masyaallah. However, if I'm to have this baby insyaallah, she'd better be more independent.
Saad al Ghaamidi seems to be our favorite Qari in the house. I tried the others but the girls kept shaking their heads and I have to revert back to Saad al Ghaamidi.
Our venture in this Quran odyssey started significantly last summer and I have to say attending AlMaghrib's Route 114 by Muhammad Faqih has really changed how I see the Quran, alhamdulillah. H is flourishing in his Quran class at the masjid, and as chatty and goofy as ever. So goofy and crazy that he actually goes out of the house in subzero temperature wearing a short sleeveed T-shirt and knee-length shorts!
"You're not going out of the house like that anymore," I told him.
Talk about being American. Well, he doesn't have to be that American!
The first time I went to the dugsi to pick up the girls, it was just after the dugsi was done. As I stepped in the masjid, Ifound myself facing a hoard of yelling, running and shoving teenage girls, mostly taller and bigger than my pregnant self. Of course my pregnancy wasn't that obvious with my attire. I literally was fearful for my and the baby's well being, as I found myself constantly struggling in my slow amble to dodge these girls who found it normal to shove people out of their ways.
As I made my way out of the foyer into the musalla area, younger girls came to me with bright faces and asked,
"Are you looking for S?"
"Are you S's mom?"
I nodded. Obviously finding my daughter was easy there, as we were the only non Somali in the masjid. We prayed Zuhr there and I couldn't help but notice that while we were praying, well, at least, while I was praying, a girl in front of me kept turning back to look at me. I suppose she was making sure the 'Chinese-looking' lady was actually praying and is a Muslim. I couldn't help but smile at the thought. It was funny yet somewhat endearing and cute. As I headed out with N alongside me, a girl about the age of ten, asked me,
"Are you her sister?"
"No, I'm her mom," I replied.
She looked taken aback and let out a surprised, "Ohh."
One thing I have to say about the Somalis : they are very friendly and warm people. If my girls were in a school full of Arabs, they would probably get a totally different treatment from the Arabs. Just one day in the dugsi, and my girls were already swarmed by these other girls who quickly became their friends. They are so friendly, just like their older counterparts who are my dearest sisters in Islam.
As H put it,
"They now have a group of their own at break time."
I do worry about bad influences as the girls came home one week telling me that two bigger girls got int trouble for passing notes in class, and the teacher, H, read out their notes out loud. Apparently it was about Hanna Montana, whom I know practically NOTHING about, but it bothered me that my kids were talking about it as if they knew the person so well. I dug more into what happens at the dugsi, but after further digging, I simply found out that my girls aer in a group of innocent girls insyaallah. Those girls who are TV-addicts are the ones whom are forced to go every week by their parents and the way of life is most probably not enforced at home. I am too familiar with that.
S is miserable though about her Quran memorization assignments. Yesterday I talked to R, who gave me some pointers on what to do about that.
1. Continuously play Quranic recitation by different qaris so they develop a love for hearing it.
2. Focus on listening to it as one would listen to music (well of course you also have to observe the ettiquettes)
3. Parents also have to be enthusiastic abuot memorising themselves.
Alhamdulillah, the kids are constantly 'chanting' Quran in the house, to the point that N would actually accidentally memorize something she wasn't assigned to memorize but would fail to memorize her own assignments.
I've also started to constantly have them read the Quran after either Zuhr or Asr. So far, after a few weeks, I have seen encouraging improvements in their pace and tajweed alhamdulillah. H does read faster than N though. I still have to learn to adapt and have more patience with N. She is so different than S and H.
I also was recently told that 4th grade is the turning point.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"It's when things start to get serious, as you have probably noticed," said HB.
I nodded agreeably. I have felt that since this school year started, and being told that only reinforces that belief. I am now in a frenzy trying to find S a planner. It's time for her to be more independent, though she already is masyaallah. However, if I'm to have this baby insyaallah, she'd better be more independent.
Saad al Ghaamidi seems to be our favorite Qari in the house. I tried the others but the girls kept shaking their heads and I have to revert back to Saad al Ghaamidi.
Our venture in this Quran odyssey started significantly last summer and I have to say attending AlMaghrib's Route 114 by Muhammad Faqih has really changed how I see the Quran, alhamdulillah. H is flourishing in his Quran class at the masjid, and as chatty and goofy as ever. So goofy and crazy that he actually goes out of the house in subzero temperature wearing a short sleeveed T-shirt and knee-length shorts!
"You're not going out of the house like that anymore," I told him.
Talk about being American. Well, he doesn't have to be that American!
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