N passed a milestone recently: she can now ride her two wheeler, alhamdulilah. Yes, it all happened after we had Baby Z, such that when I was recovering in post partum, N asked me,
"Ummi, can you teach me to ride the bike?"
In the end, S and H helped her. They pushed her, and pretty soon she was cycling on her own.
I would peek out the window and see the three of them on the sidewalk; N on her bike, H on his, and S pushing N from behind. N also had her big fall where she scraped her knee real bad that she didn't even show it to me.
"Can I go to the masjid with Abi now?" she asked one time.
S and H had that opportunity, but she never did. Now that she can ride her two wheeler, she is asking for that opportunity.
Maybe I need to write a new story now, as she is no longer Left Behind.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Why is Ummi Always Angry?
"Why do you think I'm always angry?"
"Because you're with us all the time," offered H.
"So what's the solution?"
"You go to school," hubby chipped in.
"Keep the house clean," replied H.
I thought about it. Hubby has suggested they go to school so many times before, but I never acceded to it. In fact whenever he would, it struck an obstinate chord in me. I know myself, because I have experienced it before. If they go to school and they come home with some bad influence, I would be more troubled than I would if their room is messy. I would worry, and I would berate myself, so I tell myself, I will bear this and fix myself, and may Allah help me.
"Because you're with us all the time," offered H.
"So what's the solution?"
"You go to school," hubby chipped in.
"Keep the house clean," replied H.
I thought about it. Hubby has suggested they go to school so many times before, but I never acceded to it. In fact whenever he would, it struck an obstinate chord in me. I know myself, because I have experienced it before. If they go to school and they come home with some bad influence, I would be more troubled than I would if their room is messy. I would worry, and I would berate myself, so I tell myself, I will bear this and fix myself, and may Allah help me.
Don't shout from Two Rooms away
One of the tips in The No-Cry Discipline Solution is not to yell commands from two rooms away for example, which I always do. The proper way is to get down at their eye level, touch their shoulders, make eye contact, and calmly give your command. That's what Muhammad Alshareef said in his 21 TeachingTechniques too. That is the sunnah, (hadith of man who committed zina) subhanallah!
So now I try to make conscious attempts not to do this, but it's a tad more difficult than I thought it would be, especially if I'm nursing and can't get up. So what I do is, call them to come to me. I guess so far it works this way.
Another tip is make sure you follow through after each command. I remember, growing up, my father used to holler commands at me and I would not heed them until he got angry. I think a lot of parents go through this with their children. It's a dangerous cycle to establish and in the book, it says to break this cycle and set a new pattern.
When you tell a child to pick up his toy, make sure he does. If he doesn't, go to him, take his hand and tell him again. If he doesn't make him do it, but in a calm manner (easier said than done, eh mommies?) And I have three!
I have known this too, but in times of hecticness, I always fail to follow through. Solution; think before you open your mouth!
Only issue your command if you're sure you can follow through, otherwise withold it.
Reality: sometimes it's not easy when you have a crying baby you are trying to put to sleep, and you have three children who need to take a shower, and you try to do this. In times of hurry, sometimes commands are issued like torpedos and the cycle happens.
Ah...it's an ongoing test, isn't it?
So now I try to make conscious attempts not to do this, but it's a tad more difficult than I thought it would be, especially if I'm nursing and can't get up. So what I do is, call them to come to me. I guess so far it works this way.
Another tip is make sure you follow through after each command. I remember, growing up, my father used to holler commands at me and I would not heed them until he got angry. I think a lot of parents go through this with their children. It's a dangerous cycle to establish and in the book, it says to break this cycle and set a new pattern.
When you tell a child to pick up his toy, make sure he does. If he doesn't, go to him, take his hand and tell him again. If he doesn't make him do it, but in a calm manner (easier said than done, eh mommies?) And I have three!
I have known this too, but in times of hecticness, I always fail to follow through. Solution; think before you open your mouth!
Only issue your command if you're sure you can follow through, otherwise withold it.
Reality: sometimes it's not easy when you have a crying baby you are trying to put to sleep, and you have three children who need to take a shower, and you try to do this. In times of hurry, sometimes commands are issued like torpedos and the cycle happens.
Ah...it's an ongoing test, isn't it?
Parenting 102
My ongoing problem and battle with the kids: keeping their room clean, and the whole house for that matter.
I reminisce the time when they were all under the age of 3. The house was CLEAN! Their toys fit one plastic tub. Now, oh boy, we had to throw some of their toys, and for some odd reason, the toys keep reproducing. Everytime I go into their room, I get so agitated, and I told them,
"You have to keep your room clean. You know, did you notice how I always get angry when your room is messy? It's because shaytaan like mess and that's why I get angry. My head is a mess too!"
It's my fault. I didn't really teach them to put their toys away once they are done playing with it. I only taught them to dump their toys in the toy tub every time before nap and bedtime. They didn't really grasp the concept of putting one toy away once they were done playing with it before taking out another toy.
So now, what do I do? I try this again and again, and again.
"Keep your room clean. You know how to do that? Once you're done with something, put it away right away so your room doesn't get messy in the first place. Trust me, you won't even have to clean up if you keep doing this."
But it happens again and again, and again. I think part of the reason is because they're all crammed into one room. There is an imbalance of workload between the three of them.
I am currently reading the book, Beyond Sibling Rivalry. I notice that S and H always fight. After reading the book, I think I know why for sure, even though I kind of guessed it before.
S feels that it is unfair that H is treated like a baby mostly by me. She feels it's unfair that she has to do a lot but N and H don't. It is true. I have depended on her a lot, especially in situations where I was in a hurry. I even realize that her name slips off my tongue so easily when I need help. Poor S. I have taught her to be independent ever since I realized N was in my tummy. So she resents that fact and takes it out on H. She doesn't take it out on N that much, I think, because N is quieter, but H is more verbal, and somewhat annoying to her.
So to fix this, I have to start watching what I do in terms of handing them workloads. I also notice S is very quick to point out any unfairness. Before, when she used to do this, I would reply with something curt, to get the job done. Now, I keep my mouth shut, and treat it as a reminder.
I also finished reading, How To Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen so Kids Will Talk, and I tried out some of their techniques.
Acknowledging feelings is one thing I have been doing more of. When the kids express their feelings, instead of negating them, or advising them, I would acknowledge those feelings. I had a nice talk with H and N when I did this, separately of course.
With N it was about hijab.
"You feel like you don't want to wear it sometimes, do you?"
"I feel like I don't want to wear it ever," she said.
I held my tongue and carefully phrased me next sentence.
"I know, me too. You know, sometimes I feel like I want to take it off and feel the wind in my hair. I never get to."
I could see her eyes lighting up and she began to pay more attention. I was nursing Baby Z at this time. I continued.
"But you know what?"
"What?"
"If I do take it off, I might feel cool now, but I will be hot forever. You know where?"
"In Naar," she replied.
"So I can take it off now if I want, but when I think about it, I think, 'hmmm, maybe not' because then I might be hot in Naar forever, just to be cool here for a while. So I just have to wear it."
"In the book Frog and Toad, they talk about willpower," she suddenly said.
"What's willpower?" I asked her.
"It's when you really want to do something but you can't do it, then you have lots of willpower."
"Oh, so do you have to lots of willpower to keep wearing your tudung*?"
"Yes."
After that conversation, she left the room, and later on, she asked me,
"Ummi can you tell S what we talked about?"
"You tell her," I said.
"No, you tell her."
"Maybe next time," I said.
One deep conversation was enough for one night for me. With S, I have other issues to iron out.
My conversation with H occured in the van in the masjid parking lot, while we were waiting for hubby to come. Somehow we got to talking about video games and basically the conversation went on the same route, except that the focus of the conversation was that you get more reward if you withhold yourself from doing something if you really want to do it rather than not doing something because you don't want to do it anyway.
"If I don't drink alcohol because I don't like it anyway, I get rewarded. But if I really want to drink it, but I stop myself, then I get even more reward," I said.
"So, if let's say you hang out with your friends and they ask you to watch TV or play video games a lot, and you say no when you really want to,..." I began.
"I get more reward," he chipped in.
"Yeah, I know it's hard, but in Jannah you can ask Allah for whatever you want," I said.
I was actually surprised that he understood immediately the concept of more reward for patience of withholding desires. H might be a little difficult to convince because sometimes he would resort to agreeing with what we say just to make the conversation flow. Or he would stubbornly disagree despite anything you say. So the trick with him is to engage him in the conversation.
With S, just last night, it was very hectic around maghrib time. I had a headache, Baby Z peed on the bed, we had to do emergency laundry. Tempers were running short on hubby's side. Mine too but I was too tired to get all worked up.
"Don't even mention ice cream tonight!" hubby hollered at the kids, because N had spilled sirap on the table. (Let's just say the kitchen was a big mess, it has been a very long and hot day, and the whole house was very messy too)
S blamed it on her siblings. She cried. I told her to quiet down in anger. After we prayed though, I told hubby to retract his words on S.
I called her to my room and said,
"You feel it's unfair that you always do a lot but N and H don't."
She didn't answer. She cried and nodded emphatically.
"I feel it's unfair too," I said.
"Go and eat your ice cream," I said.
With S, it's more of an emotional roller coaster. At least I hope, she won't be filled with so much resentment to her siblings so as to foster more ill feelings, inshaallah.
This is not easy for me. I wasn't raised this way, so it's a totally new experience for me. Biiznillah I can do it. Allah, give us patience and wisdom to parent our children. Now all I have to do is relay all this to hubby since he doesn't read.
I reminisce the time when they were all under the age of 3. The house was CLEAN! Their toys fit one plastic tub. Now, oh boy, we had to throw some of their toys, and for some odd reason, the toys keep reproducing. Everytime I go into their room, I get so agitated, and I told them,
"You have to keep your room clean. You know, did you notice how I always get angry when your room is messy? It's because shaytaan like mess and that's why I get angry. My head is a mess too!"
It's my fault. I didn't really teach them to put their toys away once they are done playing with it. I only taught them to dump their toys in the toy tub every time before nap and bedtime. They didn't really grasp the concept of putting one toy away once they were done playing with it before taking out another toy.
So now, what do I do? I try this again and again, and again.
"Keep your room clean. You know how to do that? Once you're done with something, put it away right away so your room doesn't get messy in the first place. Trust me, you won't even have to clean up if you keep doing this."
But it happens again and again, and again. I think part of the reason is because they're all crammed into one room. There is an imbalance of workload between the three of them.
I am currently reading the book, Beyond Sibling Rivalry. I notice that S and H always fight. After reading the book, I think I know why for sure, even though I kind of guessed it before.
S feels that it is unfair that H is treated like a baby mostly by me. She feels it's unfair that she has to do a lot but N and H don't. It is true. I have depended on her a lot, especially in situations where I was in a hurry. I even realize that her name slips off my tongue so easily when I need help. Poor S. I have taught her to be independent ever since I realized N was in my tummy. So she resents that fact and takes it out on H. She doesn't take it out on N that much, I think, because N is quieter, but H is more verbal, and somewhat annoying to her.
So to fix this, I have to start watching what I do in terms of handing them workloads. I also notice S is very quick to point out any unfairness. Before, when she used to do this, I would reply with something curt, to get the job done. Now, I keep my mouth shut, and treat it as a reminder.
I also finished reading, How To Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen so Kids Will Talk, and I tried out some of their techniques.
Acknowledging feelings is one thing I have been doing more of. When the kids express their feelings, instead of negating them, or advising them, I would acknowledge those feelings. I had a nice talk with H and N when I did this, separately of course.
With N it was about hijab.
"You feel like you don't want to wear it sometimes, do you?"
"I feel like I don't want to wear it ever," she said.
I held my tongue and carefully phrased me next sentence.
"I know, me too. You know, sometimes I feel like I want to take it off and feel the wind in my hair. I never get to."
I could see her eyes lighting up and she began to pay more attention. I was nursing Baby Z at this time. I continued.
"But you know what?"
"What?"
"If I do take it off, I might feel cool now, but I will be hot forever. You know where?"
"In Naar," she replied.
"So I can take it off now if I want, but when I think about it, I think, 'hmmm, maybe not' because then I might be hot in Naar forever, just to be cool here for a while. So I just have to wear it."
"In the book Frog and Toad, they talk about willpower," she suddenly said.
"What's willpower?" I asked her.
"It's when you really want to do something but you can't do it, then you have lots of willpower."
"Oh, so do you have to lots of willpower to keep wearing your tudung*?"
"Yes."
After that conversation, she left the room, and later on, she asked me,
"Ummi can you tell S what we talked about?"
"You tell her," I said.
"No, you tell her."
"Maybe next time," I said.
One deep conversation was enough for one night for me. With S, I have other issues to iron out.
My conversation with H occured in the van in the masjid parking lot, while we were waiting for hubby to come. Somehow we got to talking about video games and basically the conversation went on the same route, except that the focus of the conversation was that you get more reward if you withhold yourself from doing something if you really want to do it rather than not doing something because you don't want to do it anyway.
"If I don't drink alcohol because I don't like it anyway, I get rewarded. But if I really want to drink it, but I stop myself, then I get even more reward," I said.
"So, if let's say you hang out with your friends and they ask you to watch TV or play video games a lot, and you say no when you really want to,..." I began.
"I get more reward," he chipped in.
"Yeah, I know it's hard, but in Jannah you can ask Allah for whatever you want," I said.
I was actually surprised that he understood immediately the concept of more reward for patience of withholding desires. H might be a little difficult to convince because sometimes he would resort to agreeing with what we say just to make the conversation flow. Or he would stubbornly disagree despite anything you say. So the trick with him is to engage him in the conversation.
With S, just last night, it was very hectic around maghrib time. I had a headache, Baby Z peed on the bed, we had to do emergency laundry. Tempers were running short on hubby's side. Mine too but I was too tired to get all worked up.
"Don't even mention ice cream tonight!" hubby hollered at the kids, because N had spilled sirap on the table. (Let's just say the kitchen was a big mess, it has been a very long and hot day, and the whole house was very messy too)
S blamed it on her siblings. She cried. I told her to quiet down in anger. After we prayed though, I told hubby to retract his words on S.
I called her to my room and said,
"You feel it's unfair that you always do a lot but N and H don't."
She didn't answer. She cried and nodded emphatically.
"I feel it's unfair too," I said.
"Go and eat your ice cream," I said.
With S, it's more of an emotional roller coaster. At least I hope, she won't be filled with so much resentment to her siblings so as to foster more ill feelings, inshaallah.
This is not easy for me. I wasn't raised this way, so it's a totally new experience for me. Biiznillah I can do it. Allah, give us patience and wisdom to parent our children. Now all I have to do is relay all this to hubby since he doesn't read.
Ham
"H, of all the people you meet, who do you like to hang out with?"
"Zk and AR."
"Sometims AR listens to me more, and Zk if I say I want to play something he doesn't listen to me."
"Oh, how old is AR?"
"Ten."
"How about your other friends, like at soccer and stuff?"
"Oh, them? I don't really have friends at soccer."
"But who do you like? What about at the Tuttle Park programs?"
"Not really. They always talk about ham sandwich and stuff. It's annoying."
"Oh, they do?"
"Yeah, one time, they gave me one, but I didn't take it."
"Then this one boy he said 'I don't like ham," and I said 'me neither'."
"So who do you like more, Muslims or non Muslims?"
"Muslims."
"Zk and AR."
"Sometims AR listens to me more, and Zk if I say I want to play something he doesn't listen to me."
"Oh, how old is AR?"
"Ten."
"How about your other friends, like at soccer and stuff?"
"Oh, them? I don't really have friends at soccer."
"But who do you like? What about at the Tuttle Park programs?"
"Not really. They always talk about ham sandwich and stuff. It's annoying."
"Oh, they do?"
"Yeah, one time, they gave me one, but I didn't take it."
"Then this one boy he said 'I don't like ham," and I said 'me neither'."
"So who do you like more, Muslims or non Muslims?"
"Muslims."
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Everything Happened!
I dropped N and H today off for their tennis camp. When I picked them up, H, in his excitement, let out a string of incomprehensible words, probably trying to tell us the day's events.
"What didn't happen?" I asked him.
He paused for a while, and answered,
"Everything happened!"
I burst out laughing halfway home while he and N talked about Chocolate Thunder and how fun it was. I have yet to find out what Chocolate Thunder is.
"We played games."
"How? You don't know how to hit the ball," I said.
"I always know how to hit the ball!" he said indignantly.
"How about you N?" I asked.
"He taught us," she replied.
Well, maybe hubby won't be too tired telling them to practice hitting the ball when we go for our tennis outing, which has yet to happen this summer.
"What didn't happen?" I asked him.
He paused for a while, and answered,
"Everything happened!"
I burst out laughing halfway home while he and N talked about Chocolate Thunder and how fun it was. I have yet to find out what Chocolate Thunder is.
"We played games."
"How? You don't know how to hit the ball," I said.
"I always know how to hit the ball!" he said indignantly.
"How about you N?" I asked.
"He taught us," she replied.
Well, maybe hubby won't be too tired telling them to practice hitting the ball when we go for our tennis outing, which has yet to happen this summer.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Z's First Hayl Meeting
Last Sunday Baby Z attended his first Hayl Meeting. Hubby had asked me repeatedly the night before if I wanted to go. I never answered because I didn't know how it was going to be Saturday night. However, Sunday morning, both Baby Z and I were awake at 8:30 am, so I thought, "Why not?"
We were 10 minutes late. Had to drop off SNH at Sh's house, pick up a brother, and deal with the stroller. B had already started the meeting when we got there, of course. As I sat down, Baby Z awoke. He wanted to nurse. I got out of the auditorium and sat in a nearby classroom.
As i turned on the lights, I couldn't help thinking about the Virginia Tech shooting. While he was nursing, I was thinking what it would be like were it to happen, nauzubillah. I guess that was the first time I have been in a campus classroom for quite some time. On saturday, we had some Indonesians over and over the course of our conv ersation, a sister mentioned of a research that found, that nursing mothers who are happy and smiling have healthier babies, because the quality of the milk is affected. Well, I hope to banish such sinister thoughts next time I nurse Baby Z, inshaallah.
As I struggled to burp him, he spit up big time. I went back inside the auditorium and lay him in his car seat. A few mionutes later, I heard a familiar sound from him. Apparently, he wanted a tour of the Hitchcock Hall, mainly the restroom. So I got up and took him to the restroom, which was on the first floor. That meant I had to go up one floor. He was smiling and cooing as I changed and talked to him. Yeah, sure, he was happy to get the tour.
We went back and I was able to remain in the auditorium for the rest of the meeting. As for Baby Z, as soon as we were getting into groups, he was passed around from one adoring fan to the other, suich that he wasn't able to take his nap. Later on at home, he napped for 3 straight hours! I had to wake him up because I was full.
Baby Z's first Hayl meeting. All the works.
We were 10 minutes late. Had to drop off SNH at Sh's house, pick up a brother, and deal with the stroller. B had already started the meeting when we got there, of course. As I sat down, Baby Z awoke. He wanted to nurse. I got out of the auditorium and sat in a nearby classroom.
As i turned on the lights, I couldn't help thinking about the Virginia Tech shooting. While he was nursing, I was thinking what it would be like were it to happen, nauzubillah. I guess that was the first time I have been in a campus classroom for quite some time. On saturday, we had some Indonesians over and over the course of our conv ersation, a sister mentioned of a research that found, that nursing mothers who are happy and smiling have healthier babies, because the quality of the milk is affected. Well, I hope to banish such sinister thoughts next time I nurse Baby Z, inshaallah.
As I struggled to burp him, he spit up big time. I went back inside the auditorium and lay him in his car seat. A few mionutes later, I heard a familiar sound from him. Apparently, he wanted a tour of the Hitchcock Hall, mainly the restroom. So I got up and took him to the restroom, which was on the first floor. That meant I had to go up one floor. He was smiling and cooing as I changed and talked to him. Yeah, sure, he was happy to get the tour.
We went back and I was able to remain in the auditorium for the rest of the meeting. As for Baby Z, as soon as we were getting into groups, he was passed around from one adoring fan to the other, suich that he wasn't able to take his nap. Later on at home, he napped for 3 straight hours! I had to wake him up because I was full.
Baby Z's first Hayl meeting. All the works.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Smoke!
My eldest daughter is asleep with Baby Z in her arms. My big boy H is napping without any lunch after a soccer game in the morning till noon. My middle daughter is upstairs waiting for me while I upload the photos from the camera onto the computer. And I'm gulping down lychee (that's my lunch).
The past few days hubby and I have been busy with Hayl AlMaghrib stuff and it has been really dragging for days. It isn't particularly easy trying to get everything by a looming deadline with a crying baby who wakes up every couple o' hours, incessant phone calls due to Hayl stuff, nursing demands from Baby Z, three other kids who have summer programs at scattered hours throughout the day, hubby's orders that the kids do Quran, which I have to supervise on top of everything else, my own sleepiness, and like icing on a cake, a neighbor's house that would have burned our apartment down had we not seen the smoke coming out of our oven.
We were lounging in the living room when we were disrupted by a very intense stench coming from the kitchen. As we had closed the living room window, it was obvious that the smell came from the kitchen window so we closed it. However the stench lingered. It smelled at first like BBQ but each time we went to the kitchen sink the stench grew worse. Just before maghrib, hubby noticed smoke coming from our kitchen. I opened the oven and peeked though I know we didn't have anything in it because I haven't been cooking for days. Smoke was coming out. Immediately hubby went out to look at our neighbor's house. It was filled with smoke!
I was holding Baby Z. Hubby ran next door, pried off their screen and unlocked their door through the window. Apparently and fortunately, no one was in. Smoke billowed out like a pot boiling over. He dashed inside. I stood at our door, still holding Baby Z, not quite knowing what to do. Afraid that hubby would be overwhelmed by the smoke, I grabbed the phone and proceeded to call 911, but thought twice about it.
"What if everything was ok? I would be wasting their time." I held back.
"J!"
"Sgl!" I called out. A sister was coming by to drop money for the P10, and she apparently saw all the smoke coming out of our neighbor's house. It probably looked like our apartment was smoking too.
"My husband's inside!" I yelled to her.
Well, to make a long story short, hubby took off his shirt to silence the smoke alarm while standing on the stair railing. (I know that is a precarious perch, for the railing is very very thin)
"They had a pot on the stove," he said, later on.
He reeked of smoke when he came in. It was maghrib (what I call hectic time in our house).
Apparently they had left a pot on the stove and it had burned.
Alhamdulillah hubby didn't go to the masjid yet, or our apartment might have been filled with smoke too, judging from the smoke coming out of our dormant oven!
Well, alhamdulillah all ended well. I was a little worried about hubby and smoke inhalation, but he was too busy with P10, I don't think he will see a doctor to have it checked.
The past few days hubby and I have been busy with Hayl AlMaghrib stuff and it has been really dragging for days. It isn't particularly easy trying to get everything by a looming deadline with a crying baby who wakes up every couple o' hours, incessant phone calls due to Hayl stuff, nursing demands from Baby Z, three other kids who have summer programs at scattered hours throughout the day, hubby's orders that the kids do Quran, which I have to supervise on top of everything else, my own sleepiness, and like icing on a cake, a neighbor's house that would have burned our apartment down had we not seen the smoke coming out of our oven.
We were lounging in the living room when we were disrupted by a very intense stench coming from the kitchen. As we had closed the living room window, it was obvious that the smell came from the kitchen window so we closed it. However the stench lingered. It smelled at first like BBQ but each time we went to the kitchen sink the stench grew worse. Just before maghrib, hubby noticed smoke coming from our kitchen. I opened the oven and peeked though I know we didn't have anything in it because I haven't been cooking for days. Smoke was coming out. Immediately hubby went out to look at our neighbor's house. It was filled with smoke!
I was holding Baby Z. Hubby ran next door, pried off their screen and unlocked their door through the window. Apparently and fortunately, no one was in. Smoke billowed out like a pot boiling over. He dashed inside. I stood at our door, still holding Baby Z, not quite knowing what to do. Afraid that hubby would be overwhelmed by the smoke, I grabbed the phone and proceeded to call 911, but thought twice about it.
"What if everything was ok? I would be wasting their time." I held back.
"J!"
"Sgl!" I called out. A sister was coming by to drop money for the P10, and she apparently saw all the smoke coming out of our neighbor's house. It probably looked like our apartment was smoking too.
"My husband's inside!" I yelled to her.
Well, to make a long story short, hubby took off his shirt to silence the smoke alarm while standing on the stair railing. (I know that is a precarious perch, for the railing is very very thin)
"They had a pot on the stove," he said, later on.
He reeked of smoke when he came in. It was maghrib (what I call hectic time in our house).
Apparently they had left a pot on the stove and it had burned.
Alhamdulillah hubby didn't go to the masjid yet, or our apartment might have been filled with smoke too, judging from the smoke coming out of our dormant oven!
Well, alhamdulillah all ended well. I was a little worried about hubby and smoke inhalation, but he was too busy with P10, I don't think he will see a doctor to have it checked.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Chatting with the kids
"Zk said Malaysians are stinky," said N.
"Huh?"
"No, no, he said 'what's this smell? did you fart?' and I said no, and he said, 'it smells malaysian'," H elaborated for my benefit.
I guffawed.
They told me funny stories of AM, the hafidh who is teaching them Quran at the masjid.
"He gives me the jitters," said S.
"Why?" I asked.
"His face looks scary!"
"One time he killed a bee and his face went like this."
"Did the kids laugh?" I asked.
"Duuh!" S replied.
"They did?" I asked.
"Yeah, you don't see that every day."
"So do you look at his face when you recite your surah?" I asked.
"Yeah, but now I just look down," said H.
He went on:
"I used to stare at him but I think he thinks that it's rude."
"How do you know he thinks it's rude?" I asked.
"Because he said to me, 'Blink!'"
"So now I look at him when he says the surah but when I say mine, I look at his lap."
I chuckled.
"Do you like him though?"
They nodded.
"If we move do you want to take him with us?" I asked. H had once expressed that if we move he would like to bring the masjid and its people with us so he won't be sad to leave Columbus.
"Do you like him or the Sheikh?
"Him."
"I thought you like the Sheikh?"
"No, the Sheikh just looks nice. AM looks scary but he's nice and funny too. He's only scary when we do the Quran. One time, when I said my part wrong, he said it out loud it my ear, I thought I couldn't hear anymore after that."
"One time he said that someone didn't so their surah and M laughed, then he said, 'you only laugh if you do something good' and then he did this funny face 'he he'."
The prospect of us leaving Columbus saddens me when I think of the bonds we have formed here. When H said that he would like to bring the masjid and some people with us if we move, it really struck me how attached he is to the masjid and its people, and I LOVE that, alhamdulillah!
Of course at first I laughed when he said it, but then I realized the implications of his suggestion.
Today, we dropped off S and N at M's house. I had talked to S about making friends, and it was not easy for her because as it is, she is lacking friends. However, I wasn't about to let her just pick up any friends just for having friends sake. I made her understand that you are who your friends are, and that when she actually acquires one, it'd better be a good one.
As for H, wel, boys will be boys, talks about farts, and Malaysians, and Muslims having pointy noses, and making fart sounds with armpits. I can rest assured that I will never be short of any source of entertainment in times of boredom; just chat 'em up!
"Huh?"
"No, no, he said 'what's this smell? did you fart?' and I said no, and he said, 'it smells malaysian'," H elaborated for my benefit.
I guffawed.
They told me funny stories of AM, the hafidh who is teaching them Quran at the masjid.
"He gives me the jitters," said S.
"Why?" I asked.
"His face looks scary!"
"One time he killed a bee and his face went like this."
"Did the kids laugh?" I asked.
"Duuh!" S replied.
"They did?" I asked.
"Yeah, you don't see that every day."
"So do you look at his face when you recite your surah?" I asked.
"Yeah, but now I just look down," said H.
He went on:
"I used to stare at him but I think he thinks that it's rude."
"How do you know he thinks it's rude?" I asked.
"Because he said to me, 'Blink!'"
"So now I look at him when he says the surah but when I say mine, I look at his lap."
I chuckled.
"Do you like him though?"
They nodded.
"If we move do you want to take him with us?" I asked. H had once expressed that if we move he would like to bring the masjid and its people with us so he won't be sad to leave Columbus.
"Do you like him or the Sheikh?
"Him."
"I thought you like the Sheikh?"
"No, the Sheikh just looks nice. AM looks scary but he's nice and funny too. He's only scary when we do the Quran. One time, when I said my part wrong, he said it out loud it my ear, I thought I couldn't hear anymore after that."
"One time he said that someone didn't so their surah and M laughed, then he said, 'you only laugh if you do something good' and then he did this funny face 'he he'."
The prospect of us leaving Columbus saddens me when I think of the bonds we have formed here. When H said that he would like to bring the masjid and some people with us if we move, it really struck me how attached he is to the masjid and its people, and I LOVE that, alhamdulillah!
Of course at first I laughed when he said it, but then I realized the implications of his suggestion.
Today, we dropped off S and N at M's house. I had talked to S about making friends, and it was not easy for her because as it is, she is lacking friends. However, I wasn't about to let her just pick up any friends just for having friends sake. I made her understand that you are who your friends are, and that when she actually acquires one, it'd better be a good one.
As for H, wel, boys will be boys, talks about farts, and Malaysians, and Muslims having pointy noses, and making fart sounds with armpits. I can rest assured that I will never be short of any source of entertainment in times of boredom; just chat 'em up!
Abi, Come Home!
I awoke to the whimpers of Baby Z. H who was already up and about came in and began to churn out his usual chatter. I instinctively tuned him out in my groggy state. Somehow, I went back to sleep and awoke to H's panic report:
"Ummi, there's a truck next to our space and the van's not there!"
"Uh oh, call Abi and tell him," I said, and went right back to sleep.
"Ummi, Abi's coming home. He said, 'Oh no' and said he'll becoming home soon."
This time I really woke up and dashed for the window to look at the missing van.
"Ya Allah! Call Abi!" I exclaimed.
There stood a moving truck, a long white moving truck in the parking space next to ours, totally blocking any view we would have of our blue van.
"H, of course you can't see the van! The truck is blocking it! Go call Abi now!"
Mirth percolated up my throat
"He's not picking up!" he yelled back.
"H! He's probably on the way home now, and you made him come back home for nothing!"
I was half laughing and half scolding him. He looked sheepish and indignant.
"No, it's not blocking. The van's gone!"
He can't be serious! I thought.
"Ok, go outside and see if the van's there. Go! Now!" I urged him.
"Noo..the van's not there!" he insisted.
"Go and look, quick! H! you just made Abi come home for nothing!" I chortled.
He ran out barefeet, peeked next to the moving truck, and from his widened grin I knew I was right. He ran back with a very sheepish grin.
"Ohh H, you're in trouble. Abi's gonna come home and be mad that you wasted his time," I chuckled as I left him to go back to bed.
I lay back down with Baby Z, who was wide awake, looking at his surrounding.
"Look at your silly brother, Z," I said to him.
A wide smile formed on his face, his eyes looking straight at H who was standing over me, sheepish grin never having left his face.
"Look H, he's laughing at his silly brother."
I don't know what went through H's mind, but when hubby came back, he was under the school table in his room.
"Who wants me home?! Who wants me home?!"
I got up and met hubby coming up the stairs feigning anger. H remained under the table quietly.
I chuckled.
"Just tell me you want me home!" boomed hubby as H giggled under the table.
"Well, now that I'm home, recite to me Al-Insaan," said hubby.
Tsk, tsk, tsk, H and his antics.
"Ummi, there's a truck next to our space and the van's not there!"
"Uh oh, call Abi and tell him," I said, and went right back to sleep.
"Ummi, Abi's coming home. He said, 'Oh no' and said he'll becoming home soon."
This time I really woke up and dashed for the window to look at the missing van.
"Ya Allah! Call Abi!" I exclaimed.
There stood a moving truck, a long white moving truck in the parking space next to ours, totally blocking any view we would have of our blue van.
"H, of course you can't see the van! The truck is blocking it! Go call Abi now!"
Mirth percolated up my throat
"He's not picking up!" he yelled back.
"H! He's probably on the way home now, and you made him come back home for nothing!"
I was half laughing and half scolding him. He looked sheepish and indignant.
"No, it's not blocking. The van's gone!"
He can't be serious! I thought.
"Ok, go outside and see if the van's there. Go! Now!" I urged him.
"Noo..the van's not there!" he insisted.
"Go and look, quick! H! you just made Abi come home for nothing!" I chortled.
He ran out barefeet, peeked next to the moving truck, and from his widened grin I knew I was right. He ran back with a very sheepish grin.
"Ohh H, you're in trouble. Abi's gonna come home and be mad that you wasted his time," I chuckled as I left him to go back to bed.
I lay back down with Baby Z, who was wide awake, looking at his surrounding.
"Look at your silly brother, Z," I said to him.
A wide smile formed on his face, his eyes looking straight at H who was standing over me, sheepish grin never having left his face.
"Look H, he's laughing at his silly brother."
I don't know what went through H's mind, but when hubby came back, he was under the school table in his room.
"Who wants me home?! Who wants me home?!"
I got up and met hubby coming up the stairs feigning anger. H remained under the table quietly.
I chuckled.
"Just tell me you want me home!" boomed hubby as H giggled under the table.
"Well, now that I'm home, recite to me Al-Insaan," said hubby.
Tsk, tsk, tsk, H and his antics.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
So adorable!
"I can't bear to NOT look at this baby!"
"He's such an adorable baby!"
"I love his cheeks."
"I love all of him!"
Hubby had left us in the van in the parking lot while he dashed into K Mart to get me some nursing pads. The kids, as usual were enamored by the sleeping Baby Z.
Baby Z is almost 2 months old, and their fascination with him is still fresh, mashaallah.
I woke up one morning and found two kids sitting quietly at the foot of my bed, looking at their baby brother.
S even asked if she could change Baby Z's diaper. I only let her put it on because I have beun to wash him in the bathroom, Malaysian style, instead of doing it on the changing table. It's quicker and easier to do it with water like we did with all the kids.
Yesterday, as I struggled to take a nap, S put Baby Z to sleep. It was the longest nap he took yesterday. We had even dubbed him 'The king of crybaby' because he would wake up after only a short while of what seemed like deep sleep.
Baby Z on the other hand, I think have begun to realize the fact that he has lder siblings who like to hover over him.
We went to the library yesterday. N was the only one who remembered to pick some books to read to Baby Z.
"He's such an adorable baby!"
"I love his cheeks."
"I love all of him!"
Hubby had left us in the van in the parking lot while he dashed into K Mart to get me some nursing pads. The kids, as usual were enamored by the sleeping Baby Z.
Baby Z is almost 2 months old, and their fascination with him is still fresh, mashaallah.
I woke up one morning and found two kids sitting quietly at the foot of my bed, looking at their baby brother.
S even asked if she could change Baby Z's diaper. I only let her put it on because I have beun to wash him in the bathroom, Malaysian style, instead of doing it on the changing table. It's quicker and easier to do it with water like we did with all the kids.
Yesterday, as I struggled to take a nap, S put Baby Z to sleep. It was the longest nap he took yesterday. We had even dubbed him 'The king of crybaby' because he would wake up after only a short while of what seemed like deep sleep.
Baby Z on the other hand, I think have begun to realize the fact that he has lder siblings who like to hover over him.
We went to the library yesterday. N was the only one who remembered to pick some books to read to Baby Z.
Friday, June 08, 2007
A Day at the 'Beach'
Yesterday Baby Z spent a day at the 'beach' napping!
If only he would nap like that at home, I repeatedly said to myself.
I think it hit 90 degrees yesterday, and I wasn't too keen on bringing him out for the graduation BBQ held by the Malaysians.
However, hubby was going with the kids anyway, since they wanted to play with the sand, and I thus had a choice of staying home or going with them. My initial plan was to stay home and catch a few winks, but just as I lay in bed next to Baby Z, he woke up and refused to go back to sleep.
"I'm going then. I'm not going to stay home with a crying baby all by myself," I told hubby.
Sleepy and tired, I was in no state to be with Baby Z all by myself. I would bear the heat and as it was quite late in the afternoon, I figured it was okay as long as we kept him in the shade.
He whimpered a bit in the van. By the time we were at the park, he was fast asleep and continued to do so while the kids played in the sand.
Due to his continuous waking up the day before, I had started writing down the times he started sleeping and the times he woke up to see if he was getting at least 15 hours of sleep. However, as soon as I saw him snoozing at the beach, at the BBQ, and it was very windy too, I said to myself,
"Forget it. He has 15 hours of sleep inshaallah!"
And today, subhanallah, (I hope it's not temporary), just before I walked in the bathroom, I took a peek at him in the room. He was falling asleep all by himself! He woke up when I came out though but at least that was a good 10 minutes at least that he slept.
And just now, in his bassinet, I lay him on his right, rubbed his back while Saad AlGhamidi recited Yusuf, and before long, he was sound asleep. Before, I had to recite Yusuf to him and rock him to sleep and even then, it wasn't that easy for him to find a comfortable position and fall asleep.
I really hope this is not temporary. I made the dua yesterday and allahu akbar today it was easy. Now maybe we're getting somewhere with my trying to figure out how in heaven I am going to homeschool the kids with Baby Z! I dread August.
If only he would nap like that at home, I repeatedly said to myself.
I think it hit 90 degrees yesterday, and I wasn't too keen on bringing him out for the graduation BBQ held by the Malaysians.
However, hubby was going with the kids anyway, since they wanted to play with the sand, and I thus had a choice of staying home or going with them. My initial plan was to stay home and catch a few winks, but just as I lay in bed next to Baby Z, he woke up and refused to go back to sleep.
"I'm going then. I'm not going to stay home with a crying baby all by myself," I told hubby.
Sleepy and tired, I was in no state to be with Baby Z all by myself. I would bear the heat and as it was quite late in the afternoon, I figured it was okay as long as we kept him in the shade.
He whimpered a bit in the van. By the time we were at the park, he was fast asleep and continued to do so while the kids played in the sand.
Due to his continuous waking up the day before, I had started writing down the times he started sleeping and the times he woke up to see if he was getting at least 15 hours of sleep. However, as soon as I saw him snoozing at the beach, at the BBQ, and it was very windy too, I said to myself,
"Forget it. He has 15 hours of sleep inshaallah!"
And today, subhanallah, (I hope it's not temporary), just before I walked in the bathroom, I took a peek at him in the room. He was falling asleep all by himself! He woke up when I came out though but at least that was a good 10 minutes at least that he slept.
And just now, in his bassinet, I lay him on his right, rubbed his back while Saad AlGhamidi recited Yusuf, and before long, he was sound asleep. Before, I had to recite Yusuf to him and rock him to sleep and even then, it wasn't that easy for him to find a comfortable position and fall asleep.
I really hope this is not temporary. I made the dua yesterday and allahu akbar today it was easy. Now maybe we're getting somewhere with my trying to figure out how in heaven I am going to homeschool the kids with Baby Z! I dread August.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Chinese Baby
"He looks like a Chinese baby!" S commented as she readied herself to snap a photo of Baby Z.
I had taken to bringing him out for as many mornings as I can to get his does of Vitamin D from the golden ball. Once I do, we usually go to the playground. 15 minutes is the tops and then we walk back home.
Baby Z is beginning to look more and more Chinese I suppose.
"He's sleepy," S said.
"How do you know?" I asked.
"His eyes look like crescents."
I took a picture of Baby Z sleeping on his side, and when I looked at the photo, the first thing that came to my mind was Abdulbary Yahya.
Hubby is even calling him, "Hey there you Chinese Muslim!"
I wonder where he got the Chinese look from?
I had taken to bringing him out for as many mornings as I can to get his does of Vitamin D from the golden ball. Once I do, we usually go to the playground. 15 minutes is the tops and then we walk back home.
Baby Z is beginning to look more and more Chinese I suppose.
"He's sleepy," S said.
"How do you know?" I asked.
"His eyes look like crescents."
I took a picture of Baby Z sleeping on his side, and when I looked at the photo, the first thing that came to my mind was Abdulbary Yahya.
Hubby is even calling him, "Hey there you Chinese Muslim!"
I wonder where he got the Chinese look from?
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Souvenir for Big Brother
"Eww!" they screamed in unison.
They gathered around it, and recoiled at the sight. On the floor of their room lay the item of attention: Baby Z's belly stump. It had fallen right on their bedroom floor.
"Pick it up," I said.
"Eww!" they chorused again.
I emitted a chuckle and left them with the item of disgust.
A while later I came back, it was gone.
Big Bro H had put it in a huge ziploc bag and placed the ziploc bag in his three ring binder.
"See!" he exclaimed, proud of his own little souvenir from his baby brother, whom he has been waiting for to play soccer with.
I wonder how long that stump will survive in his binder. Of all of them, I never thought he would be the one to claim possession of the 'Eww' inducing item of disgust out of love for his new brother. Well, baby brothers can do wonders, I guess.
They gathered around it, and recoiled at the sight. On the floor of their room lay the item of attention: Baby Z's belly stump. It had fallen right on their bedroom floor.
"Pick it up," I said.
"Eww!" they chorused again.
I emitted a chuckle and left them with the item of disgust.
A while later I came back, it was gone.
Big Bro H had put it in a huge ziploc bag and placed the ziploc bag in his three ring binder.
"See!" he exclaimed, proud of his own little souvenir from his baby brother, whom he has been waiting for to play soccer with.
I wonder how long that stump will survive in his binder. Of all of them, I never thought he would be the one to claim possession of the 'Eww' inducing item of disgust out of love for his new brother. Well, baby brothers can do wonders, I guess.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
New?
"It doesn't feel like he's new," she said.
"Huh?"
I didn't understand the statement.
"It doesn't feel like Z is new," she repeated.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"There's not a lot of new stuff that we have to get," she replied.
"You mean you feel like we've had him all along?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"Why do you feel that way?"
"Because we used to get stuff for you when you were pregnant."
That coming from my eldest, the biggest help in the house. I had thought she meant that it felt like we have had Baby Z all along, even when he was in my belly, which was sweet. I had wanted a Z if it was a boy and for some time we even started to call the baby Z. On the other hand, we had trouble finding a girl name if it was a girl. The kids didn't like the name Rayyanah, which hubby wanted to spell Raeyyana, or something of that variation, to make it unique. I loved the name, and was about to embark on another girl name search towards the end of the pregnancy. I picked Rumaysa, but we didn't really agree as a family.
Alhamdulillah, Allah made it easy. Out came a boy. Z it was then.
I asked N and H if they felt like Z was new. H said yes and N said. "A little bit new."
In a way, I suppose we have had Z all along, though I keep calling him H and sometimes J.
"Huh?"
I didn't understand the statement.
"It doesn't feel like Z is new," she repeated.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"There's not a lot of new stuff that we have to get," she replied.
"You mean you feel like we've had him all along?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"Why do you feel that way?"
"Because we used to get stuff for you when you were pregnant."
That coming from my eldest, the biggest help in the house. I had thought she meant that it felt like we have had Baby Z all along, even when he was in my belly, which was sweet. I had wanted a Z if it was a boy and for some time we even started to call the baby Z. On the other hand, we had trouble finding a girl name if it was a girl. The kids didn't like the name Rayyanah, which hubby wanted to spell Raeyyana, or something of that variation, to make it unique. I loved the name, and was about to embark on another girl name search towards the end of the pregnancy. I picked Rumaysa, but we didn't really agree as a family.
Alhamdulillah, Allah made it easy. Out came a boy. Z it was then.
I asked N and H if they felt like Z was new. H said yes and N said. "A little bit new."
In a way, I suppose we have had Z all along, though I keep calling him H and sometimes J.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
As weeks go by
Week 2, Baby Z attended his first Juma'ah prayer, as his doctor visit happened to be just before the Juma'ah prayer started at a nearby location. While hubby and H prayed, I nursed a hungry Baby Z at far end of the rented gymnasium. His first Juma'ah, he was too busy eating.
Week 3, Baby Z had his first outing as we bruoght my mother downtown for sightseeing. He also sent his Grandma to the airport at the end of this week. Of course he was oblivious to the whole farewell thing. Baby Z also slept through his brother's soccer game.
Week 4, Baby Z was weighed and had gained 26 oz in 15 days. A whopping 7 lbs 11 oz. Alhamdulillah. I was worried he wasn't gaining what with all the spitting up. He also attended his first waleemah this week. This was where someone insisted he was small, didn't look like a one-month old baby and looked fragile as he was mistaken for a girl.
Week 5, mainly because of Baby Z we ditched going to the Malaysian Midwest Games, so hubby went by himself. We spent an interesting weekend by ourselves at home. Baby Z attended his second waleemah. Oh boy, does this mean anything?
Week 6, Baby Z is becoming increasingly hooked and used to having Surah Yusuf recited to him to lull him to sleep.
H has started to call him Chubby.
S is crazy about picking him up all the time.
N kisses him every chance she gets.
S seldom talks to him, just as she resolutely refuses to practice her surah aloud.
When we discussed it over dinner, H said,
"Because she's embarassed."
N constantly says,
"Z! Z!"
while H will actually talk to him, though not in Motherese.
H: What happened to you and Chubby?
N: "His faraj looks funny. It hangs. Is there something wrong with it?"
Me: "How come you guys don't go to the masjid as often as you did when I was pregnant?"
S smiled and replied,
"Because of Z."
N keeps asking about the 'next baby'.
N: "How old will Zeyd be when the newborn comes out?"
Me: "What?"
N repeats her question, I still don't understand, but finally does.
Me: "I don't know."
H: "Ask Abi, he knows."
Me thinking to myself, this boy thinks the world of his father.
When hubby left for Dekalb, Illinois during the Memorial weekend for the Midwest games, H kept asking,
"When will Abi come back?"
"Is he coming back tomorrow?"
"Can I call him?"
After hubby told him over the phone that he was going to home in 45 minutes, H said,
"I wonder how he calculated it."
I still can't believe we have 7 years difference between H and Baby Z. I must be very old.
Week 3, Baby Z had his first outing as we bruoght my mother downtown for sightseeing. He also sent his Grandma to the airport at the end of this week. Of course he was oblivious to the whole farewell thing. Baby Z also slept through his brother's soccer game.
Week 4, Baby Z was weighed and had gained 26 oz in 15 days. A whopping 7 lbs 11 oz. Alhamdulillah. I was worried he wasn't gaining what with all the spitting up. He also attended his first waleemah this week. This was where someone insisted he was small, didn't look like a one-month old baby and looked fragile as he was mistaken for a girl.
Week 5, mainly because of Baby Z we ditched going to the Malaysian Midwest Games, so hubby went by himself. We spent an interesting weekend by ourselves at home. Baby Z attended his second waleemah. Oh boy, does this mean anything?
Week 6, Baby Z is becoming increasingly hooked and used to having Surah Yusuf recited to him to lull him to sleep.
H has started to call him Chubby.
S is crazy about picking him up all the time.
N kisses him every chance she gets.
S seldom talks to him, just as she resolutely refuses to practice her surah aloud.
When we discussed it over dinner, H said,
"Because she's embarassed."
N constantly says,
"Z! Z!"
while H will actually talk to him, though not in Motherese.
H: What happened to you and Chubby?
N: "His faraj looks funny. It hangs. Is there something wrong with it?"
Me: "How come you guys don't go to the masjid as often as you did when I was pregnant?"
S smiled and replied,
"Because of Z."
N keeps asking about the 'next baby'.
N: "How old will Zeyd be when the newborn comes out?"
Me: "What?"
N repeats her question, I still don't understand, but finally does.
Me: "I don't know."
H: "Ask Abi, he knows."
Me thinking to myself, this boy thinks the world of his father.
When hubby left for Dekalb, Illinois during the Memorial weekend for the Midwest games, H kept asking,
"When will Abi come back?"
"Is he coming back tomorrow?"
"Can I call him?"
After hubby told him over the phone that he was going to home in 45 minutes, H said,
"I wonder how he calculated it."
I still can't believe we have 7 years difference between H and Baby Z. I must be very old.
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