Alas! I have decided to move this blog over to Wordpress because Wordpress provides more organization and features (especially file sharing) that I want to use for the purpose of this particular blog. I will stop posting here on blogger, and will inshallah continue posting on the new site. It's still a move in progress though, so please bear with all the incompleteness.
Jazakum allah khair for your visits, announced or not, and wonderful comments. I had started this blog not intending to garner an audience. It's more of a homeschooling journal for our family, since I was too lazy to write it manually or type it on Microsoft word, and blogging seemed to be the way to go, convenient and nice-looking. But, over the years, people have come and gone, and if anything, I just hope that if there are benefits to be gained from the blog, that it will be like sadaqah jariah for me. Anything bad that may come out of it, may Allah forgive me.
Anything expressed in this blog, I intend as a way to document our homeschooling experience, and you will not find everything nice and dandy, for it will also include my dilemmas, and problems especially in parenting and homeschooling. They are not means of complaining or bragging in order to get responses, but merely as documentation of the hardships and also good days that we go through. I really truly appreciate those who drop by, giving me the honor of having some 'relationships' and online support (somewhat), which I never intended to have, but greatly welcome nonetheless.
And with that, I welcome you to the new site (still under construction):
nadiaschooldays.wordpress.com
Wassalamu alaykum warahmatullah wabarakaatuh.
Monday, June 16, 2008
A Seerah Weekend
Last weekend was the first weekend of Seerah. On Friday, we headed to Kottman Hall around 6:45 pm. H had expressed interest in taking the class, but we didn't enroll him. I urged him to come in during Free Friday.
Throughout the weekend though, I urged him to sit outside and listen in and come in and sit by me to listen. He managed to, and so did the girls, at some point. The rest of the time, they were playing outside in the hallway and in the garden.
The class mashaallah was amazing. I'm so glad I decided to take it in the end. It provided an eman boost and a LOT to reflect on. It's Seerah, but Sheikh Abdulbary connected it to our current life here in the West and related it to our situations. That makes it full of gems to take home, alhamdulillah.
As is usual after any AlMaghrib classes I take, the kids clamor and ask me,
"Tell us stories!"
I was exhausted but I managed to tell them some, but I also urged them to sit in and listen when they can muster enough stillness so as not to distract the rest of the class.
I aksed H last night,
"Do you still wanna go to Saudi when you're bigger, to learn Islam?"
He nodded and said,
"But cellphones are not allowed."
I burst out laughing. He had told me before, when I was bustling in the kitchen,
"In Saudi Arabia, cellphones are not allowed."
"Where'd you hear that?"
"Khalid Yassin said it in the talk."
He had attended the talk by Khalid Yassin at the masjid with hubby.
When he responded like that last night, I asked him, chuckling,
"Why are you so hung up on cellphones anyway? We don't even have any."
Later on I told hubby and he said,
"Cellphones are not allowed during weddings."
Being a child, I guess H misunderstood it and generalized it to cellphones not being allowed in Saudi Arabia period.
I had a good laugh out of it though.
It has been a while since we dragged the kids along to AlMaghrib classes. When hubby and I were involved directly with the qabeelah, we attended the meetings, hubby manned the registration tables, and so the kids were better able to experience being involved in a dawah project. Now, hubby and I have kind of tapered off in terms of being involved directly in Columbus dawah projects, well, except that hubby is still highly involved in masjid dawah projects. Seats of Scholars is lying dormant for now, so I haven't been doing anything much. In a way I miss it, because when we were involved in dawah projects, the kids are also inadvertently involved, or at least they see us being busy with the dawah projects. I even induce them to help out with tasks they could manage, age-wise, like making flyers, and helping out in general (usually to call brothers for sisters or passing messages).
Since Seats of Scholars have also been lying dormant for a while, S is not doing her email reminders much, and H is not updating the website much. We need to pick that up again real soon inshaallah.
Being in the AlMaghrib atmosphere last weekend was a boost to me spiritually alhamdulillah and brings back nice memories of bringing back Hayl to Columbus, working with Hayl as a family (literally), and I realized that it's quite simple to train our children to make dawah, if we also do them, by involving ourselves in dawah projects that can take many forms. And I feel so grateful to Allah for having been given the opportunities to take part in many dawah projects run by many different organizations here in the United States, and for having been able to also do them as a family. Walhamdulillah.
Throughout the weekend though, I urged him to sit outside and listen in and come in and sit by me to listen. He managed to, and so did the girls, at some point. The rest of the time, they were playing outside in the hallway and in the garden.
The class mashaallah was amazing. I'm so glad I decided to take it in the end. It provided an eman boost and a LOT to reflect on. It's Seerah, but Sheikh Abdulbary connected it to our current life here in the West and related it to our situations. That makes it full of gems to take home, alhamdulillah.
As is usual after any AlMaghrib classes I take, the kids clamor and ask me,
"Tell us stories!"
I was exhausted but I managed to tell them some, but I also urged them to sit in and listen when they can muster enough stillness so as not to distract the rest of the class.
I aksed H last night,
"Do you still wanna go to Saudi when you're bigger, to learn Islam?"
He nodded and said,
"But cellphones are not allowed."
I burst out laughing. He had told me before, when I was bustling in the kitchen,
"In Saudi Arabia, cellphones are not allowed."
"Where'd you hear that?"
"Khalid Yassin said it in the talk."
He had attended the talk by Khalid Yassin at the masjid with hubby.
When he responded like that last night, I asked him, chuckling,
"Why are you so hung up on cellphones anyway? We don't even have any."
Later on I told hubby and he said,
"Cellphones are not allowed during weddings."
Being a child, I guess H misunderstood it and generalized it to cellphones not being allowed in Saudi Arabia period.
I had a good laugh out of it though.
It has been a while since we dragged the kids along to AlMaghrib classes. When hubby and I were involved directly with the qabeelah, we attended the meetings, hubby manned the registration tables, and so the kids were better able to experience being involved in a dawah project. Now, hubby and I have kind of tapered off in terms of being involved directly in Columbus dawah projects, well, except that hubby is still highly involved in masjid dawah projects. Seats of Scholars is lying dormant for now, so I haven't been doing anything much. In a way I miss it, because when we were involved in dawah projects, the kids are also inadvertently involved, or at least they see us being busy with the dawah projects. I even induce them to help out with tasks they could manage, age-wise, like making flyers, and helping out in general (usually to call brothers for sisters or passing messages).
Since Seats of Scholars have also been lying dormant for a while, S is not doing her email reminders much, and H is not updating the website much. We need to pick that up again real soon inshaallah.
Being in the AlMaghrib atmosphere last weekend was a boost to me spiritually alhamdulillah and brings back nice memories of bringing back Hayl to Columbus, working with Hayl as a family (literally), and I realized that it's quite simple to train our children to make dawah, if we also do them, by involving ourselves in dawah projects that can take many forms. And I feel so grateful to Allah for having been given the opportunities to take part in many dawah projects run by many different organizations here in the United States, and for having been able to also do them as a family. Walhamdulillah.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
It's difficult being a parent
Hubby and I have been trying to coax H to resume going to the masjid for the hifdh with AM, but he's been consistently refusing. Today, we went from one store to the next, looking for shoes for S to wear for her horse-riding lesson that will commence on Tuesday, next week inshaallah.
We ended up at Kohl's.
Of course, being me, I fretted about his firm refusal to go.
"So you're going tonight to AM, right H?"
He shook his head.
"No."
"Why?"
Let's just say it took quite some prodding to get to the core of the issue.
"You don't like going to the masjid?"
"No, it's so long!"
"You mean from Maghrib to Isha?"
He nodded.
"AM used to have free time, but not anymore."
It dawned on hubby then, what the issue was.
Apparently, before this, when H used to enjoy and look forward to going to the masjid, AM used to give them regular breaks where they could play, but not anymore.
We mulled over it, and I was reminded of the lecture I heard about parenting where you have to have positive association with acts of ibadah for children, so they will always look forward to it. In H's case, the positive association is gone. As a result, he no longer wants to go to the masjid.
Hubby said he will talk to AM about it, and as we went home, he said,
"No wonder there are not that many kids now coming to the masjid."
I had asked H, when he revealed the true reason he didn't want to go anymore,
"If AM gives you breaks like before, would you go?"
He nodded.
"You would do the Quran memorization and play?"
He nodded.
So it's not about memorizing the Quran, it's about 'just apples and no donuts'. Muhammad AlShareef uses this analogy of apples and donuts in dawah techniques, where apples refer to the hard core dawah issues (healthy) and donuts refer to the 'fun' stuff incorporated into any dawah event/activity. When it comes to attracting youths, the balance of apples and donuts is pretty important, especially today's generation.
I was worried that it was about Quran memorization, and felt a huge relief wash over me when I found out it wasn't. I have to say it felt pretty good to find out what the issue is.
Most times, parents don't take enough time to prod into matters pertaining to their children (well at least, in my experience) to find out why their children are acting up/refusing to do something. In Stephen's Covey 7 Habits, he talks about seeking to understand and then be understood. A lot of conflicts happen between parents and children when parents assume things about their children, thus not seeking to sincerely understand them. Subhanallah, we could have just forced him to go despite his adamant refusal. We could have dragged him to the masjid kicking and screaming. For all my unwise parenting moments, I can safely say that for this particular instance, inshaallah, Allah has guided me with some semblance of parental wisdom, Alhamdulillah!
Tonight he did go.
When the time came for them to go, hubby asked him,
"H, do you wanna go with the van, or the bike?"
H was playing downstairs at the time, not even ready to go to the masjid. I was trying to read as much as I could of a library book, and so I didn't look at him, but I sensed some hesitation. Alhamdulillah, he finally answered,
"Bicycle!"
When they came back, I asked him,
"So did you have fun at the masjid?"
He shook his head, but at least he wasn't sullen or physically rebelling about having to go.
That was one issue we had to deal with, alhamdulillah.
Another one came up while H and hubby were at the masjid. The kids are in the summer reading program, and today, they went to redeem their prizes, and it involved a dice. I suddenly felt uneasy about it as I was making wudhu' for Maghrib and I told the girls.
"I don't feel good about the dice today. Did you remember about the dice?"
"Yeah, I remember, but how are we going to get the bugs?"
Then, came the comment or remark that shook up my parenting world,
"It's difficult being a Muslim. You can't have tattoos, and dice."
Let me just say that I was speechless after that remark S made. Only Allah knows how much my heart felt like it was wrung out. Immediately I thought,
"Ya Allah! This is it! I'm going through what most Muslim parents go through!"
Earlier today even, as we drove through town, I was thinking to myself,
"The years ahead are probably going to be rough. The kids are growing, entering new stages, different and unfamiliar stages in their lives. I'm in for a bumpy ride."
H's issue with the masjid had triggered that train of thought in me, and S's remark just put an exclamation mark at the back of that caboose.
I gave a short response, consisting of
"That's because we're living in a kuffar country."
"Then when are we going to move to a better place?" asked N.
"I don't know. Make dua."
"I know it's difficult. It's difficult for adults too."
"No, it's more difficult for kids."
"Well, yes, but adults have a hard time too, you know. Abi could have gotten a job easily all this time and we could have been rich. There are banks and insurance companies telling him to come, but he refused because they're deep in riba'. If he had worked for them, we probably would have been rich and won't have the problem of staying here, but then, our dua might not be accepted because our source of money is haram, and whatever we eat is haram, nauzubillah. So it's difficult for adults too."
My dismay was beginning to make me angry, so I held my tongue, and stopped talking. My thoughts unraveled, and I thought of the best way to respond. I thought,
"I need to talk to them."
I didn't know what I was going to say, but I knew I had to talk to them about it, soon. I made dua that Allah give me wisdom to handle it, and for Allah to give them wisdom to bear this.
While S took her shower, I called N to my room while I nursed Baby Z.
"N, what S said just now, about how difficult it is to be a Muslim. Do you..."
I was lost for words. I had no plan, I didn't know what or how I was going to go about discussing it. I was jumping in blind.
"Agree?" she finished my sentence.
I nodded.
"Yeah."
"How is it difficult to be a Muslim?"
She prattled about some negative stuff, and it was as if a lightbulb lit up in my head,
Instead of asking her what's making it difficult, why not ask her what's fun about being a Muslim?
(Being proactive instead of reactive)
So I did. I turned the question to,
"Okay, what can you do and have you done that's fun, as a Muslim?"
It got the wheels turning, and before long, she was churning out our travels to Texas, Pennsylvania, Eid, cats, Baby Z, etc.
By the time she was done, I added to her list, and we concluded that
Hey, there are a lot of things that Muslims can do.
When we were done, I shooed her out, and hailed S.
"S, N and I were talking about the difficult being a Muslim, and we came up with...with what N?"
"A lot of cool stuff," replied N as she left the room.
So I did another 'session' with S. She listed Pennsylvania, cats, frogs, Baby Z, kissing him, hugging him, playing outside, reading, Muslim parties, eating, getting a flat tire, museums, petting animals, etc.
I did note that both mentioned our travels to Pennsylvania. Subhanallah, they seem to really cherish those trips to children's museums on our trip that happened only because of hubby's conference.
We also concluded that Muslims can do a lot of things, but with her, I added something extra.
"Even for adults, it's difficult. Some adults would say why is it that the kuffar have a good life, they live in mansions, and look at their country, so clean and modern, while Muslim countries are dirty and the people are rude, and poor. I had a friend who said that.."
"What did you tell her?" S interjected.
"I don't remember..." (I really don't remember!)
"But..basically, Allah has said in the Quran, if one asks for something good here on earth, he will get it, and if he doesn't ask for any good in the hereafter, he won't get anything. And which is more lasting? Here or the hereafter?"
I continued with moer analogies...
"You know, if you're thirsty, and you drink water because you're thirsty, and then let's say you're not thirsty, and you drink anyway. Which one feels better?"
"The first one," she said.
"So it's like that, if we live an enjoyable life here on earth, when we go to jannah, it might not....feel..."
"Worth it?"
"Yeah, kind of. But you know what I mean, right?"
"Because of that suffering, Allah will compensate us."
And I told her about the pricking of the thorn, of how our sins are erased for any pain we feel.
"I'm so scared of the punishment in the grave, that I think, oh, let me have a lot of pain now so I won't have any sins to be punished for in the grave."
"And here on earth, let's say you drink Cincau, for example, you drink it again, and it tastes the same, right? But in jannah, let's say you eat a fruit, the first time you eat it, it's SOOO good, and the second time you eat it, ahhh...the third time you eat it, it's even better! The fourth time you eat it, awesome! The fifth time you eat it, WHOA!"
S was giggling from all the expressions I manufactured with each bite of that fruit, and I joined her.
We really covered a lot during that talk, alhamdulillah.
I am reminded of what Sheikh Yaser Birjas said in the class Code of Scholars: Usul Al Fiqh last August. That we Muslims just have to be more creative and not feel restricted in not being able to do this and that. Instead we should focus on the halal things we are allowed to do. This is where we parents come in and provide these halal alternatives - part of our job description.
After we prayed Isha, N said,
"Ummi, let's hurt ourselves."
"Huh?"
"So we'll get rewarded and won't have any sins."
Aaahhh...this girl has been eavesdropping.
We ended up at Kohl's.
Of course, being me, I fretted about his firm refusal to go.
"So you're going tonight to AM, right H?"
He shook his head.
"No."
"Why?"
Let's just say it took quite some prodding to get to the core of the issue.
"You don't like going to the masjid?"
"No, it's so long!"
"You mean from Maghrib to Isha?"
He nodded.
"AM used to have free time, but not anymore."
It dawned on hubby then, what the issue was.
Apparently, before this, when H used to enjoy and look forward to going to the masjid, AM used to give them regular breaks where they could play, but not anymore.
We mulled over it, and I was reminded of the lecture I heard about parenting where you have to have positive association with acts of ibadah for children, so they will always look forward to it. In H's case, the positive association is gone. As a result, he no longer wants to go to the masjid.
Hubby said he will talk to AM about it, and as we went home, he said,
"No wonder there are not that many kids now coming to the masjid."
I had asked H, when he revealed the true reason he didn't want to go anymore,
"If AM gives you breaks like before, would you go?"
He nodded.
"You would do the Quran memorization and play?"
He nodded.
So it's not about memorizing the Quran, it's about 'just apples and no donuts'. Muhammad AlShareef uses this analogy of apples and donuts in dawah techniques, where apples refer to the hard core dawah issues (healthy) and donuts refer to the 'fun' stuff incorporated into any dawah event/activity. When it comes to attracting youths, the balance of apples and donuts is pretty important, especially today's generation.
I was worried that it was about Quran memorization, and felt a huge relief wash over me when I found out it wasn't. I have to say it felt pretty good to find out what the issue is.
Most times, parents don't take enough time to prod into matters pertaining to their children (well at least, in my experience) to find out why their children are acting up/refusing to do something. In Stephen's Covey 7 Habits, he talks about seeking to understand and then be understood. A lot of conflicts happen between parents and children when parents assume things about their children, thus not seeking to sincerely understand them. Subhanallah, we could have just forced him to go despite his adamant refusal. We could have dragged him to the masjid kicking and screaming. For all my unwise parenting moments, I can safely say that for this particular instance, inshaallah, Allah has guided me with some semblance of parental wisdom, Alhamdulillah!
Tonight he did go.
When the time came for them to go, hubby asked him,
"H, do you wanna go with the van, or the bike?"
H was playing downstairs at the time, not even ready to go to the masjid. I was trying to read as much as I could of a library book, and so I didn't look at him, but I sensed some hesitation. Alhamdulillah, he finally answered,
"Bicycle!"
When they came back, I asked him,
"So did you have fun at the masjid?"
He shook his head, but at least he wasn't sullen or physically rebelling about having to go.
That was one issue we had to deal with, alhamdulillah.
Another one came up while H and hubby were at the masjid. The kids are in the summer reading program, and today, they went to redeem their prizes, and it involved a dice. I suddenly felt uneasy about it as I was making wudhu' for Maghrib and I told the girls.
"I don't feel good about the dice today. Did you remember about the dice?"
"Yeah, I remember, but how are we going to get the bugs?"
Then, came the comment or remark that shook up my parenting world,
"It's difficult being a Muslim. You can't have tattoos, and dice."
Let me just say that I was speechless after that remark S made. Only Allah knows how much my heart felt like it was wrung out. Immediately I thought,
"Ya Allah! This is it! I'm going through what most Muslim parents go through!"
Earlier today even, as we drove through town, I was thinking to myself,
"The years ahead are probably going to be rough. The kids are growing, entering new stages, different and unfamiliar stages in their lives. I'm in for a bumpy ride."
H's issue with the masjid had triggered that train of thought in me, and S's remark just put an exclamation mark at the back of that caboose.
I gave a short response, consisting of
"That's because we're living in a kuffar country."
"Then when are we going to move to a better place?" asked N.
"I don't know. Make dua."
"I know it's difficult. It's difficult for adults too."
"No, it's more difficult for kids."
"Well, yes, but adults have a hard time too, you know. Abi could have gotten a job easily all this time and we could have been rich. There are banks and insurance companies telling him to come, but he refused because they're deep in riba'. If he had worked for them, we probably would have been rich and won't have the problem of staying here, but then, our dua might not be accepted because our source of money is haram, and whatever we eat is haram, nauzubillah. So it's difficult for adults too."
My dismay was beginning to make me angry, so I held my tongue, and stopped talking. My thoughts unraveled, and I thought of the best way to respond. I thought,
"I need to talk to them."
I didn't know what I was going to say, but I knew I had to talk to them about it, soon. I made dua that Allah give me wisdom to handle it, and for Allah to give them wisdom to bear this.
While S took her shower, I called N to my room while I nursed Baby Z.
"N, what S said just now, about how difficult it is to be a Muslim. Do you..."
I was lost for words. I had no plan, I didn't know what or how I was going to go about discussing it. I was jumping in blind.
"Agree?" she finished my sentence.
I nodded.
"Yeah."
"How is it difficult to be a Muslim?"
She prattled about some negative stuff, and it was as if a lightbulb lit up in my head,
Instead of asking her what's making it difficult, why not ask her what's fun about being a Muslim?
(Being proactive instead of reactive)
So I did. I turned the question to,
"Okay, what can you do and have you done that's fun, as a Muslim?"
It got the wheels turning, and before long, she was churning out our travels to Texas, Pennsylvania, Eid, cats, Baby Z, etc.
By the time she was done, I added to her list, and we concluded that
Hey, there are a lot of things that Muslims can do.
When we were done, I shooed her out, and hailed S.
"S, N and I were talking about the difficult being a Muslim, and we came up with...with what N?"
"A lot of cool stuff," replied N as she left the room.
So I did another 'session' with S. She listed Pennsylvania, cats, frogs, Baby Z, kissing him, hugging him, playing outside, reading, Muslim parties, eating, getting a flat tire, museums, petting animals, etc.
I did note that both mentioned our travels to Pennsylvania. Subhanallah, they seem to really cherish those trips to children's museums on our trip that happened only because of hubby's conference.
We also concluded that Muslims can do a lot of things, but with her, I added something extra.
"Even for adults, it's difficult. Some adults would say why is it that the kuffar have a good life, they live in mansions, and look at their country, so clean and modern, while Muslim countries are dirty and the people are rude, and poor. I had a friend who said that.."
"What did you tell her?" S interjected.
"I don't remember..." (I really don't remember!)
"But..basically, Allah has said in the Quran, if one asks for something good here on earth, he will get it, and if he doesn't ask for any good in the hereafter, he won't get anything. And which is more lasting? Here or the hereafter?"
I continued with moer analogies...
"You know, if you're thirsty, and you drink water because you're thirsty, and then let's say you're not thirsty, and you drink anyway. Which one feels better?"
"The first one," she said.
"So it's like that, if we live an enjoyable life here on earth, when we go to jannah, it might not....feel..."
"Worth it?"
"Yeah, kind of. But you know what I mean, right?"
"Because of that suffering, Allah will compensate us."
And I told her about the pricking of the thorn, of how our sins are erased for any pain we feel.
"I'm so scared of the punishment in the grave, that I think, oh, let me have a lot of pain now so I won't have any sins to be punished for in the grave."
"And here on earth, let's say you drink Cincau, for example, you drink it again, and it tastes the same, right? But in jannah, let's say you eat a fruit, the first time you eat it, it's SOOO good, and the second time you eat it, ahhh...the third time you eat it, it's even better! The fourth time you eat it, awesome! The fifth time you eat it, WHOA!"
S was giggling from all the expressions I manufactured with each bite of that fruit, and I joined her.
We really covered a lot during that talk, alhamdulillah.
I am reminded of what Sheikh Yaser Birjas said in the class Code of Scholars: Usul Al Fiqh last August. That we Muslims just have to be more creative and not feel restricted in not being able to do this and that. Instead we should focus on the halal things we are allowed to do. This is where we parents come in and provide these halal alternatives - part of our job description.
After we prayed Isha, N said,
"Ummi, let's hurt ourselves."
"Huh?"
"So we'll get rewarded and won't have any sins."
Aaahhh...this girl has been eavesdropping.
Seerah: The Shepherd's Path
I was busy writing out an email to hubby and the kids, laying out possible plans for this weekend, thinking that this weekend will be just like any other weekend. After I hit the send button, I realized,
I'm taking Seerah!! inshaallah.
Sheikh Abdulbary is teaching this one, and he's renowned for his stories, mashaallah. At first I didn't want to take it, because last class's experience with plugged ducts was really not fun, and with hubby's knee, I wasn't sure if he could even lift Baby Z's car seat in the process of lugging him to me and taking him back home again throughout both weekends. But inshaallah, I will be taking the class.
As I was looking through AlMaghrib's seminar webpage, I noticed a new class: Beautiful Patience: Tafseer Surah Yusuf. Mashaallah! I haven't been keeping up with AlMaghrib's progress, that this is really news to me! Sabrun Jameel, I need that sorely. I wonder if we'll still be here for me to be able to continue taking AlMaghrib classes...or in the UK, since it's already there now, alhamdulillah.
H is resuming going to AM for his Quran memorization inshaallah, starting tonight. Hubby said to him this morning,
"AM and me are buddies. Who else's kids dad play soccer with the sheikh?"
When AM talked to hubby about H's hesitance to come to the masjid for hifdh, AM said that it might be because H was having trouble with Surah Talaq, such that he had to work on the same ayah for weeks.
One time, before this, AM asked H why he didn't come to the hifdh program anymore, and H replied,
"I'm doing it with my father."
Suffice it to say, hubby was embarrassed when AM told him about it.
So inshaallah, H is resuming it with AM tonight.
In the meantime, I'd better quickly review that Seerah timeline on the wall in the living room. Interestingly, I'm not that excited about this upcoming class, such that I actually forgot about it.
May Allah make it easier this time around with nursing Baby Z and avoiding plugged ducts inshaallah. Ameen.
I'm taking Seerah!! inshaallah.
Sheikh Abdulbary is teaching this one, and he's renowned for his stories, mashaallah. At first I didn't want to take it, because last class's experience with plugged ducts was really not fun, and with hubby's knee, I wasn't sure if he could even lift Baby Z's car seat in the process of lugging him to me and taking him back home again throughout both weekends. But inshaallah, I will be taking the class.
As I was looking through AlMaghrib's seminar webpage, I noticed a new class: Beautiful Patience: Tafseer Surah Yusuf. Mashaallah! I haven't been keeping up with AlMaghrib's progress, that this is really news to me! Sabrun Jameel, I need that sorely. I wonder if we'll still be here for me to be able to continue taking AlMaghrib classes...or in the UK, since it's already there now, alhamdulillah.
H is resuming going to AM for his Quran memorization inshaallah, starting tonight. Hubby said to him this morning,
"AM and me are buddies. Who else's kids dad play soccer with the sheikh?"
When AM talked to hubby about H's hesitance to come to the masjid for hifdh, AM said that it might be because H was having trouble with Surah Talaq, such that he had to work on the same ayah for weeks.
One time, before this, AM asked H why he didn't come to the hifdh program anymore, and H replied,
"I'm doing it with my father."
Suffice it to say, hubby was embarrassed when AM told him about it.
So inshaallah, H is resuming it with AM tonight.
In the meantime, I'd better quickly review that Seerah timeline on the wall in the living room. Interestingly, I'm not that excited about this upcoming class, such that I actually forgot about it.
May Allah make it easier this time around with nursing Baby Z and avoiding plugged ducts inshaallah. Ameen.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
A Myriad of Possibilities
"They said that you should apply for grad school if we want to continue to stay here."
I had considered grad school before, maybe once, maybe twice, but the thought of going to school with kids at home brought me back to my undergrad days, where I spent two years of undergraduate life with two pregnancies and two daughters.
The experience might not be the same as a working mother, but I would say it's a totally different experience altogether. And before anyone says there are Ph.D mothers who do the same thing, let's remember that the requirements for an undergraduate studies are very different from that of graduate programs (where family is somewhat expected and considered).
S wasn't fully breastfed because my pumping experience was horrendous. N alhamdulillah was fully breastfed since our loads were somewhat lighter towards our senior years, but her delivery was right in the midst of midterms and group projects. Not fun.
Thinking back, I somewhat feel bad for not being there 100% with S and N, especially S, whom we dropped from one babysitter to the next, and whom we swaddled really tightly so she would sleep and I could study and complete my programming assignments.
Only H received my full mothering. The thought of leaving them again rather rattled me, in a way. I can't leave Baby Z, even though he's pretty big now. No. Not with his allergies, and those wonderful early years...I can't miss that!
"What about the kids?"
"We can send them to Sunrise, if it's here."
I'm stubborn. I still want to homeschool them. But how can I, if I go to school? I can barely handle it now.
I started looking into graduate programs, and I made istikharah.
I can't. I just can't.
So here I am, doing job searches for hubby, until my eyes are glazed over. We have roughly 6 more months till we have to leave if he doesn't get anything.
Rabbana aatina fi dunya hasanah wa fil aakhirati hasanah wa qina 'adhzaab annaar. Ameen.
I had considered grad school before, maybe once, maybe twice, but the thought of going to school with kids at home brought me back to my undergrad days, where I spent two years of undergraduate life with two pregnancies and two daughters.
The experience might not be the same as a working mother, but I would say it's a totally different experience altogether. And before anyone says there are Ph.D mothers who do the same thing, let's remember that the requirements for an undergraduate studies are very different from that of graduate programs (where family is somewhat expected and considered).
S wasn't fully breastfed because my pumping experience was horrendous. N alhamdulillah was fully breastfed since our loads were somewhat lighter towards our senior years, but her delivery was right in the midst of midterms and group projects. Not fun.
Thinking back, I somewhat feel bad for not being there 100% with S and N, especially S, whom we dropped from one babysitter to the next, and whom we swaddled really tightly so she would sleep and I could study and complete my programming assignments.
Only H received my full mothering. The thought of leaving them again rather rattled me, in a way. I can't leave Baby Z, even though he's pretty big now. No. Not with his allergies, and those wonderful early years...I can't miss that!
"What about the kids?"
"We can send them to Sunrise, if it's here."
I'm stubborn. I still want to homeschool them. But how can I, if I go to school? I can barely handle it now.
I started looking into graduate programs, and I made istikharah.
I can't. I just can't.
So here I am, doing job searches for hubby, until my eyes are glazed over. We have roughly 6 more months till we have to leave if he doesn't get anything.
Rabbana aatina fi dunya hasanah wa fil aakhirati hasanah wa qina 'adhzaab annaar. Ameen.
Monday, June 09, 2008
You're just making an excuse
I've been lamenting over the lack of motivation to exercise, and everything I look in the mirror, the silent laments start their run, and I tell myself.
"Tomorrow I'm going to exercise."
However, the sheer will power that drove me to force myself to workout half an hour everyday in my heydays of 'a young momma with three small youngins under the age of 4' is gone, or maybe buried under the layers of unsightly fat I now own. Since hubby busted his knee, I do not have a tennis partner for the Tennis Sundays. I thought I could play with the kids, but, let's face it, we end up picking up balls more than playing. Even though that burns calories, it also burns my patience. Hubby has been telling me to put up an advert in the masjid saying something like,
"Need a female tennis partner to play with on Sundays after Fajr."
I don't think I will do such a thing, though in desperation, I was tempted to.
I thought of rollerblading since S just got new used rollerblades as gift from hubby, and I thought of biking, but these remain as thoughts so far. I thought of jumproping in the house, but alas, our jumprope is either discarded or missing somewhere, and though I can easily make a Chinese jumprope from the bag of rubber bands we have, I lack the motivation to do so.
This morning, after nursing Baby Z for his morning nap, I went downstairs with the intent to exercise to the video cassettes that we have, and as I walked through the living room, I announced this to the kids.
"I want to exercise but I'm so lazy. You have to help me move."
"Ok, we will. We'll exercise with you!"
I haven't worked out in the house for a long time, and the last time I did, the shoes that I wore specifically inside the house has grown slippery, so I slightly recalled wearing it outside.
"Do you guys remember if I wore this outside?"
"No, you didn't."
"Eh, I think I did. See the bottom's dirty."
"You're just making an excuse, Ummi," H said, as I went upstairs to wash the soles in the bathtub.
"Hmm, now it's wet. H can you please put this outside so it'll dry?"
He did, and I continued,
"Hmm...now I can't exercise, 'cause my shoes are wet."
"I think I'll just do Pilates. You wanna do it with me?"
"Yeah!"
So I did, with H next to me, grunting and giggling, making me lose control and giggle too. While I pushed on, he stopped, complaining that it was too difficult.
I was happy I pushed myself to exercise, because I do feel better, not as sluggish, but I only hope this will not be a 'one-time' thing. Tomorrow, I don't have an 'excuse' since my shoes are dry, though I do have minor surgery tomorrow (which I'm not too happy about).
But to my announcement, N asked me,
"Why do you wanna be thin again?"
Hmm...am I that fat?
"Tomorrow I'm going to exercise."
However, the sheer will power that drove me to force myself to workout half an hour everyday in my heydays of 'a young momma with three small youngins under the age of 4' is gone, or maybe buried under the layers of unsightly fat I now own. Since hubby busted his knee, I do not have a tennis partner for the Tennis Sundays. I thought I could play with the kids, but, let's face it, we end up picking up balls more than playing. Even though that burns calories, it also burns my patience. Hubby has been telling me to put up an advert in the masjid saying something like,
"Need a female tennis partner to play with on Sundays after Fajr."
I don't think I will do such a thing, though in desperation, I was tempted to.
I thought of rollerblading since S just got new used rollerblades as gift from hubby, and I thought of biking, but these remain as thoughts so far. I thought of jumproping in the house, but alas, our jumprope is either discarded or missing somewhere, and though I can easily make a Chinese jumprope from the bag of rubber bands we have, I lack the motivation to do so.
This morning, after nursing Baby Z for his morning nap, I went downstairs with the intent to exercise to the video cassettes that we have, and as I walked through the living room, I announced this to the kids.
"I want to exercise but I'm so lazy. You have to help me move."
"Ok, we will. We'll exercise with you!"
I haven't worked out in the house for a long time, and the last time I did, the shoes that I wore specifically inside the house has grown slippery, so I slightly recalled wearing it outside.
"Do you guys remember if I wore this outside?"
"No, you didn't."
"Eh, I think I did. See the bottom's dirty."
"You're just making an excuse, Ummi," H said, as I went upstairs to wash the soles in the bathtub.
"Hmm, now it's wet. H can you please put this outside so it'll dry?"
He did, and I continued,
"Hmm...now I can't exercise, 'cause my shoes are wet."
"I think I'll just do Pilates. You wanna do it with me?"
"Yeah!"
So I did, with H next to me, grunting and giggling, making me lose control and giggle too. While I pushed on, he stopped, complaining that it was too difficult.
I was happy I pushed myself to exercise, because I do feel better, not as sluggish, but I only hope this will not be a 'one-time' thing. Tomorrow, I don't have an 'excuse' since my shoes are dry, though I do have minor surgery tomorrow (which I'm not too happy about).
But to my announcement, N asked me,
"Why do you wanna be thin again?"
Hmm...am I that fat?
Allergic Reactions
Last Friday:
A part of our baseboard was broken and we have been having broken paint chips as a result. To make the story short, Baby Z got hold of one chunk of broken wall and chewed it. The girls were supposed to watch him, but had run to the kitchen because they didn't do what they were supposed to do before then. Result: they received severe scolding from my, and resulted in them having to clean the whole house while the rest of us napped. I called the pediatrician and the Poison center, since I was concerned about the ingestion of lead, but inshaallah all is fine.
Last Saturday:
S gave Baby Z some soy-free, wheat-free, dairy-free cookies we had bought for him. He ate two. He had an allergic reaction which includes coughing, wheezing, and a flare up of hives. Suffice it to day, I was scared, especially with the wheezing. The on call pediatrician left us a message (he called while we were making salat Asr) and said,
"If the allergic reaction involves breathing difficulty, please call the squad and have them evaluate, but if it's only a rash, bring the child to the nearest urgent care."
Hubby gave Baby Z a bath, I nursed him, he fell asleep, the wheezing subsided, the hives remained, but at least while he was sleeping, he wasn't making it worse by scratching. After he woke up, his hives were gone and his wheezing had stopped, ALHAMDULILLAH! No squad and no urgent care.
Sunday:
S played with a stray kitten around Buckeye Village. We had company at the time, and when I went upstairs, S was making wudhu' for Maghrib in the bathroom. When she turned to face me, her face was horribly covered in hives, especially around the eyes. It was a while before they went down completely. I hope she's not allergic to horses too.
We had a weekend of allergic reactions...subhanallah. I have never dealt with allergic reactions before. We have none in my side of the family. Let's just say it was pretty scary, though maybe N's febrile seizure was scarier.
A part of our baseboard was broken and we have been having broken paint chips as a result. To make the story short, Baby Z got hold of one chunk of broken wall and chewed it. The girls were supposed to watch him, but had run to the kitchen because they didn't do what they were supposed to do before then. Result: they received severe scolding from my, and resulted in them having to clean the whole house while the rest of us napped. I called the pediatrician and the Poison center, since I was concerned about the ingestion of lead, but inshaallah all is fine.
Last Saturday:
S gave Baby Z some soy-free, wheat-free, dairy-free cookies we had bought for him. He ate two. He had an allergic reaction which includes coughing, wheezing, and a flare up of hives. Suffice it to day, I was scared, especially with the wheezing. The on call pediatrician left us a message (he called while we were making salat Asr) and said,
"If the allergic reaction involves breathing difficulty, please call the squad and have them evaluate, but if it's only a rash, bring the child to the nearest urgent care."
Hubby gave Baby Z a bath, I nursed him, he fell asleep, the wheezing subsided, the hives remained, but at least while he was sleeping, he wasn't making it worse by scratching. After he woke up, his hives were gone and his wheezing had stopped, ALHAMDULILLAH! No squad and no urgent care.
Sunday:
S played with a stray kitten around Buckeye Village. We had company at the time, and when I went upstairs, S was making wudhu' for Maghrib in the bathroom. When she turned to face me, her face was horribly covered in hives, especially around the eyes. It was a while before they went down completely. I hope she's not allergic to horses too.
We had a weekend of allergic reactions...subhanallah. I have never dealt with allergic reactions before. We have none in my side of the family. Let's just say it was pretty scary, though maybe N's febrile seizure was scarier.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
'Dogged' & Grossed
"Where are we going?"
"Aahhhhh tell ussss!!!"
Hubby, as usual, told the kids that we would go somewhere, but didn't say where exactly. Of course, this sparked the ultimate curiosity in them, especially because the day that he said it, we didn't end up going there.
Today however, we did, and when we did get there, I think S was pleasantly surprised.
She has been lamenting over not getting to ride horses or touch or pet them for ages. Her love for horses seems overwhelming, and not wanting to deprive her of the opportunity, I googled horse-riding lessons in Columbus, Ohio.
We had missed the spring session, and I was hoping we could join the summer session, albeit being 30 dollars more in cost. In short, we signed her up today, onsite, since the owner is pretty bad at replying emails and returning phone calls. We decided to just go there and sign her up.
Hubby got out and tried to find the owner, who was working in the barn, and from our van, we could see a little dog following him, sniffing his legs.
"Look at the dog!"
"He's following Abi!"
Hubby came back and said that the summer session is still not filled, and I went with him to ask the owner some questions about paraphernalia for S to wear to the lessons. As soon as I reached the table where the lady was sitting, and this was outdoor, not indoor, out of nowhere, two dogs the size of a very small ponies greeted me with their snouts. Two smaller dogs followed suit, and on reflex, I screamed. I truly screamed, and upon instinct, I moved away from the, which only made them dog me more, whcih led to me screaming more.
As I moved away, I whimpered for hubby to come to my rescue, but he merely stood watching me and said,
"Don't run. If you run, they'll go after you."
Backed against the wall of the building, I held on to the forms, looked at the van, which contained the kids, while the four dogs sniffed me. I couldn't seem to stop screaming. of course the owner called them off, but I had already made a fool of myself.
"I'm sorry, I'm just not used to dogs," I said to her, thinking that she might be offended at my response to her gentle dogs.
"Oh, I'm sorry too. They won't hurt you, but in the beginning they can be pretty obnoxious."
We managed to sign S up for riding lessons, which will commence June 17 inshaallah, and when we walked back to the van, which had the door open, we found the great hound returning from our van.
"Did you all laugh at me?" I asked the kids.
"You screamed!"
"The hound came and sniffed Abi's crutches."
At home, I asked the kids again.
"Did I look silly screaming like that?"
"Yeah, you were standing with the papers in your hand, screaming!"
"Oh yeah, what would you have done if it was you?"
"I would have just stood there," replied S, and N nodded.
"How about you, H?" I asked H, who was busy playing a game on the computer.
"Err.. I don't know," he said, without looking at me, but I could see his cheeks bulging from a smile.
"H was chased by a dog once at the park. He ran and screamed," S said, laughing.
"When the hound came to the van, H hid in the trunk."
So! H jumped to the back of the van!
"I think, if it was him, he would have made his roller coaster face and screamed like mad," I said, reminiscing his roller coaster face when we went on the Calypso at Cedar Points a few years back.
Apparently, my fear, tendency to chatter, and squeamishness when it comes to the inner human body have all been passed down to my first son.
Hubby's MRI results showed an ACL tear, and I googled the surgical procedure on Youtube. When I found it, I called the kids to watch. H, being 'me' ran off shrieking, covering his mouth, when the animation showed a long metal stick being inserted into the knee. N remained beside me and watched it without so much as a cringe. S wasn't there, but for the rest of the evening, I went after them, describing the procedure as grossly as I could as loud as I could, while S and H screamed as loud as they could to drown out my voice.
Suffice it to say, I really had fun grossing them out.
"And they would drill the bones...drrrrrrrr!!"
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!"
"Okay, okay,..come..get ready for maghrib."
"Aaaahhhh!!"
"I'm not saying anything!"
"Aaaaaah!!!"
"I'm done."
...
"Ooh this big metal stick, they stuck it through the knee..."
"AAAAAAHH!!!!"
That's for laughing at me, kids.
"They would slice out the tendon and then staple the tendons together..."
Mwahahahahahahahahahahahahahah!
"Aahhhhh tell ussss!!!"
Hubby, as usual, told the kids that we would go somewhere, but didn't say where exactly. Of course, this sparked the ultimate curiosity in them, especially because the day that he said it, we didn't end up going there.
Today however, we did, and when we did get there, I think S was pleasantly surprised.
She has been lamenting over not getting to ride horses or touch or pet them for ages. Her love for horses seems overwhelming, and not wanting to deprive her of the opportunity, I googled horse-riding lessons in Columbus, Ohio.
We had missed the spring session, and I was hoping we could join the summer session, albeit being 30 dollars more in cost. In short, we signed her up today, onsite, since the owner is pretty bad at replying emails and returning phone calls. We decided to just go there and sign her up.
Hubby got out and tried to find the owner, who was working in the barn, and from our van, we could see a little dog following him, sniffing his legs.
"Look at the dog!"
"He's following Abi!"
Hubby came back and said that the summer session is still not filled, and I went with him to ask the owner some questions about paraphernalia for S to wear to the lessons. As soon as I reached the table where the lady was sitting, and this was outdoor, not indoor, out of nowhere, two dogs the size of a very small ponies greeted me with their snouts. Two smaller dogs followed suit, and on reflex, I screamed. I truly screamed, and upon instinct, I moved away from the, which only made them dog me more, whcih led to me screaming more.
As I moved away, I whimpered for hubby to come to my rescue, but he merely stood watching me and said,
"Don't run. If you run, they'll go after you."
Backed against the wall of the building, I held on to the forms, looked at the van, which contained the kids, while the four dogs sniffed me. I couldn't seem to stop screaming. of course the owner called them off, but I had already made a fool of myself.
"I'm sorry, I'm just not used to dogs," I said to her, thinking that she might be offended at my response to her gentle dogs.
"Oh, I'm sorry too. They won't hurt you, but in the beginning they can be pretty obnoxious."
We managed to sign S up for riding lessons, which will commence June 17 inshaallah, and when we walked back to the van, which had the door open, we found the great hound returning from our van.
"Did you all laugh at me?" I asked the kids.
"You screamed!"
"The hound came and sniffed Abi's crutches."
At home, I asked the kids again.
"Did I look silly screaming like that?"
"Yeah, you were standing with the papers in your hand, screaming!"
"Oh yeah, what would you have done if it was you?"
"I would have just stood there," replied S, and N nodded.
"How about you, H?" I asked H, who was busy playing a game on the computer.
"Err.. I don't know," he said, without looking at me, but I could see his cheeks bulging from a smile.
"H was chased by a dog once at the park. He ran and screamed," S said, laughing.
"When the hound came to the van, H hid in the trunk."
So! H jumped to the back of the van!
"I think, if it was him, he would have made his roller coaster face and screamed like mad," I said, reminiscing his roller coaster face when we went on the Calypso at Cedar Points a few years back.
Apparently, my fear, tendency to chatter, and squeamishness when it comes to the inner human body have all been passed down to my first son.
Hubby's MRI results showed an ACL tear, and I googled the surgical procedure on Youtube. When I found it, I called the kids to watch. H, being 'me' ran off shrieking, covering his mouth, when the animation showed a long metal stick being inserted into the knee. N remained beside me and watched it without so much as a cringe. S wasn't there, but for the rest of the evening, I went after them, describing the procedure as grossly as I could as loud as I could, while S and H screamed as loud as they could to drown out my voice.
Suffice it to say, I really had fun grossing them out.
"And they would drill the bones...drrrrrrrr!!"
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!"
"Okay, okay,..come..get ready for maghrib."
"Aaaahhhh!!"
"I'm not saying anything!"
"Aaaaaah!!!"
"I'm done."
...
"Ooh this big metal stick, they stuck it through the knee..."
"AAAAAAHH!!!!"
That's for laughing at me, kids.
"They would slice out the tendon and then staple the tendons together..."
Mwahahahahahahahahahahahahahah!
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Life is an Open Secret
Hubby brought home Life is an Open Secret home a few days ago, from the OSU library, because I was asking for it. Kak Bina, my high school senior, is the author, and when I saw the book lying on the side table in the living room, I picked it up and read it immediately.
It is a very interesting and enjoyable read, and, mashaallah, Kak Bina really provoked some personal reflections in me, alhamdulillah. What is enjoyable about her book are the stories included in each chapter. I couldn't help but chuckle at some of them, jokes she had shared, and some of them I actually read out loud to the family.
I finished reading it the second day, after which I said to the kids,
"Now you can read it if you want."
They were already intrigued and curious as to the contents of the book, after I shared some of the jokes and stories with them out loud. It wasn't long before I found S reading it, pretty intently too.
"Do you like the book?" I asked her.
"I like the stories."
"Do you understand them?"
"Yeah."
Mashaallah. I had told hubby that we need to buy those Islamic fiction even if they seem to adultish for the kids, because S seems to be reading years ahead of her age. Everytime I see her read, and ask her comprehension, I think to myself,
"That Glenn Doman bit I did on her really makes a difference."
A few posts ago, I have come to the realization that maybe teaching kids to read an an earlier age is not that significant, but every time I see S reading, I am moved to think otherwise. I do think it does make a difference. Maybe it is not significant in terms of the ability to read, but maybe the significance is in the experience of reading itself, and where it can take that person. I think it even affects her Quran reading, compared to N and H. Allaahu Aalim.
Today, H picked up the book and started to read it, though he interrupted my reading numerous times with,
"What's labor?"
"Is this first person or third person?"
"The person writing this, is it a girl or a boy?"
"Are the stories true?"
To be honest, I was rather annoyed by the incessant questions, as I was feeling rather on the egde with regards to finding time for my writing today, especially. However, I am just thankful he is showing interest in reading it, just because it's not exactly a children's book.
I sure hope we get to purchasing that list of Islamic books, fiction and non fiction I had emailed hubby months ago, inshaallah.
It is a very interesting and enjoyable read, and, mashaallah, Kak Bina really provoked some personal reflections in me, alhamdulillah. What is enjoyable about her book are the stories included in each chapter. I couldn't help but chuckle at some of them, jokes she had shared, and some of them I actually read out loud to the family.
I finished reading it the second day, after which I said to the kids,
"Now you can read it if you want."
They were already intrigued and curious as to the contents of the book, after I shared some of the jokes and stories with them out loud. It wasn't long before I found S reading it, pretty intently too.
"Do you like the book?" I asked her.
"I like the stories."
"Do you understand them?"
"Yeah."
Mashaallah. I had told hubby that we need to buy those Islamic fiction even if they seem to adultish for the kids, because S seems to be reading years ahead of her age. Everytime I see her read, and ask her comprehension, I think to myself,
"That Glenn Doman bit I did on her really makes a difference."
A few posts ago, I have come to the realization that maybe teaching kids to read an an earlier age is not that significant, but every time I see S reading, I am moved to think otherwise. I do think it does make a difference. Maybe it is not significant in terms of the ability to read, but maybe the significance is in the experience of reading itself, and where it can take that person. I think it even affects her Quran reading, compared to N and H. Allaahu Aalim.
Today, H picked up the book and started to read it, though he interrupted my reading numerous times with,
"What's labor?"
"Is this first person or third person?"
"The person writing this, is it a girl or a boy?"
"Are the stories true?"
To be honest, I was rather annoyed by the incessant questions, as I was feeling rather on the egde with regards to finding time for my writing today, especially. However, I am just thankful he is showing interest in reading it, just because it's not exactly a children's book.
I sure hope we get to purchasing that list of Islamic books, fiction and non fiction I had emailed hubby months ago, inshaallah.
Too much
I made a mistake yesterday, which led to meltdown on my part, at the end of the day. After that promising 'outdoor Arabic', I was encouraged to do everything else that we had talked about. I should have been wise about it, and not try to do everything at once.
I was only supposed to handle N's Quran reading, with the tafseer, but since hubby hasn't been doing the reading with S and H, I did it with them, with tafseer. At the time, it wasn't overwhelming, but at the end of the day, the repeat of nursing Baby Z for one hour, only to have him fresh and alert at the end of the hour led to my outburst.
I felt like I was doing everything, and even that, I wasn't even handling the memorization bit of the Quran with the kids. Meltdown description? Well, let's just say I retreated to my air-conditioned room, under the covers, while Baby Z screamed his lungs off, S and H sulked over their quarrel (which combined with Baby Z's reluctance to sleep, eventually led to my frayed nerves being lighted up), and N took in everything in her own stride. Hubby came home from the masjid to Baby Z's wails, and thought the kids were playing with him.
"Don't play with Z anymore. Go to sleep!"
I guess, it was only until he noticed that I was missing did he realize that something was amiss.
"Is Ummi mad?" he asked the kids.
After brooding on this, I remembered this mistake I had once also done before; doing tafseer with all of them. I had told myself, to learn from that mistake, and only do tafseer with one of them, and have the others listen. I can still recall the difficulties of scheduling lessons with the kids when Baby Z was younger, because of his nursing schedule. I had tried nursing him while teaching the kids, but that had robbed him of his much needed sleep. So I moved to the room, nursing him there till he falls asleep, but he always takes an hour to nurse before falling asleep. I couldn't train him to fall asleep by himself because of his eczema and allergies. When he starts scratching, that's it, I'm back to square one.
I had told the kids,
"The Prophet sallallaahu alayhi wasallam said that the best deed is that done continuously even if little. So the best deed is not necessarily someone praying 20 rakaah at night, but only that one night, but maybe praying 2 rakaah each night, but every night."
I explained to them how the best deed is not one that is done the most, but one that is done with consistency, and further explained to them why I had cut down their Quran reading to half a page per person (except for S) instead of a full page (to save me from burnout and stopping it altogether).
"But you read many pages when you were small," said H, reminding me of what I had told them of my childhood Quran reading experiences.
My Ustaz wouldn't tell me how much I would be reading each time, but would just tell me to read until he felt it was enough.
"Yeah, I sure did."
I couldn't come up with any explanations or elaborations.
Now, thinking back, I could probably have said,
"But he wasn't doing everything. Right now, I am."
I was only supposed to handle N's Quran reading, with the tafseer, but since hubby hasn't been doing the reading with S and H, I did it with them, with tafseer. At the time, it wasn't overwhelming, but at the end of the day, the repeat of nursing Baby Z for one hour, only to have him fresh and alert at the end of the hour led to my outburst.
I felt like I was doing everything, and even that, I wasn't even handling the memorization bit of the Quran with the kids. Meltdown description? Well, let's just say I retreated to my air-conditioned room, under the covers, while Baby Z screamed his lungs off, S and H sulked over their quarrel (which combined with Baby Z's reluctance to sleep, eventually led to my frayed nerves being lighted up), and N took in everything in her own stride. Hubby came home from the masjid to Baby Z's wails, and thought the kids were playing with him.
"Don't play with Z anymore. Go to sleep!"
I guess, it was only until he noticed that I was missing did he realize that something was amiss.
"Is Ummi mad?" he asked the kids.
After brooding on this, I remembered this mistake I had once also done before; doing tafseer with all of them. I had told myself, to learn from that mistake, and only do tafseer with one of them, and have the others listen. I can still recall the difficulties of scheduling lessons with the kids when Baby Z was younger, because of his nursing schedule. I had tried nursing him while teaching the kids, but that had robbed him of his much needed sleep. So I moved to the room, nursing him there till he falls asleep, but he always takes an hour to nurse before falling asleep. I couldn't train him to fall asleep by himself because of his eczema and allergies. When he starts scratching, that's it, I'm back to square one.
I had told the kids,
"The Prophet sallallaahu alayhi wasallam said that the best deed is that done continuously even if little. So the best deed is not necessarily someone praying 20 rakaah at night, but only that one night, but maybe praying 2 rakaah each night, but every night."
I explained to them how the best deed is not one that is done the most, but one that is done with consistency, and further explained to them why I had cut down their Quran reading to half a page per person (except for S) instead of a full page (to save me from burnout and stopping it altogether).
"But you read many pages when you were small," said H, reminding me of what I had told them of my childhood Quran reading experiences.
My Ustaz wouldn't tell me how much I would be reading each time, but would just tell me to read until he felt it was enough.
"Yeah, I sure did."
I couldn't come up with any explanations or elaborations.
Now, thinking back, I could probably have said,
"But he wasn't doing everything. Right now, I am."
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Outdoor Arabic
We had a meeting again yesterday, to discuss how and when we're going to do Arabic, Tajweed, Memorization, and Quran.
"Who wants to be the scribe?" I exclaim.
"Me!"
"Me!"
"Me!"
"Ok, I'll ask again. Who raises his/her hand first gets to be the scribe. Ok, ready?"
"Who wants to be the scribe?"
"Ok, N's the scribe."
At the end of the meeting, we decided :
1. Arabic will be done outdoors, dictation-style, vocabulary-focused, in the mornings when we take our morning walks
2. Memorization will be done throughout the week
3. Review of memorized surahs will be done sub'ee-style between Zuhr and Asr
4. Quran reading will be done whenever I am available
5. Tajweed will be done between Zuhr and Asr (I just need 15 minutes for it)
So today, we commenced our Arabic at the 'big' playground in Buckeye Village.
The only thing that puts a damper on our schedule planning is Baby Z's schedule. His schedule has really taken some wild turns. I was beginning to think that he is settling down into a regular schedule, but apparently, I was proved wrong. I would spend an hour nursing him to sleep, only to have him alert and fresh at the end of the hour. Subsequently, I gave up trying to put him to sleep at the appropriate times, and only waited until he is somewhat sleepy, lest I spend hours nursing him to sleep but to no avail.
This morning, we had another one of those sessions where I nursed him both sides, for one hour total, and at the end, he started scratching his neck, and woke up.
"Kids! Take him, you guys go first, I'll catch up!"
I hollered to the kids in frustration, and proceeded to the bathroom to take my shower.
So they went ahead, all four of them, to the playground, while I showered and ate breakfast. When I got there, Baby Z was sitting demurely in his stroller, happy as a lark, and the kids were swinging.
"Where'd you guys want to do it? At that table over there?"
They were all excited to do the Arabic dictation. So, under the late morning sun, we all sat at the picnic table, and did our outdoor Arabic. The kids took out their folders containing loose leaf handwriting papers, and I opened our Gateway to Arabic Book 1 for some vocabulary. Meanwhile, Baby Z sat in his stroller, minding his own business, that is, until he began to stand up and gestured to be picked up.
While saddling him on my hips, I dictated the Arabic words to the kids. Fascinated by his surroundings, Baby Z pointed to everything, uttering soft babbles. Straddling him across my tummy, I held his back and swung him around like a helicopter propeller, to which he squealed in utter delight. After a while, he grew heavier in my arms, the kids' demand for more words, and having to check their spelling tired me. This was easier in theory than in practice, at least because of Baby Z. That is basically the summary of my experience homeschooling with a nursing baby; it's a vicious continuous cycle of juggling challenge, in fact, the ultimate juggling challenge, at least in my life experience.
Nevertheless, we did get our outdoor Arabic, plus some Quranic vocabulary. I guess I'll settle with that for now.
"Who wants to be the scribe?" I exclaim.
"Me!"
"Me!"
"Me!"
"Ok, I'll ask again. Who raises his/her hand first gets to be the scribe. Ok, ready?"
"Who wants to be the scribe?"
"Ok, N's the scribe."
At the end of the meeting, we decided :
1. Arabic will be done outdoors, dictation-style, vocabulary-focused, in the mornings when we take our morning walks
2. Memorization will be done throughout the week
3. Review of memorized surahs will be done sub'ee-style between Zuhr and Asr
4. Quran reading will be done whenever I am available
5. Tajweed will be done between Zuhr and Asr (I just need 15 minutes for it)
So today, we commenced our Arabic at the 'big' playground in Buckeye Village.
The only thing that puts a damper on our schedule planning is Baby Z's schedule. His schedule has really taken some wild turns. I was beginning to think that he is settling down into a regular schedule, but apparently, I was proved wrong. I would spend an hour nursing him to sleep, only to have him alert and fresh at the end of the hour. Subsequently, I gave up trying to put him to sleep at the appropriate times, and only waited until he is somewhat sleepy, lest I spend hours nursing him to sleep but to no avail.
This morning, we had another one of those sessions where I nursed him both sides, for one hour total, and at the end, he started scratching his neck, and woke up.
"Kids! Take him, you guys go first, I'll catch up!"
I hollered to the kids in frustration, and proceeded to the bathroom to take my shower.
So they went ahead, all four of them, to the playground, while I showered and ate breakfast. When I got there, Baby Z was sitting demurely in his stroller, happy as a lark, and the kids were swinging.
"Where'd you guys want to do it? At that table over there?"
They were all excited to do the Arabic dictation. So, under the late morning sun, we all sat at the picnic table, and did our outdoor Arabic. The kids took out their folders containing loose leaf handwriting papers, and I opened our Gateway to Arabic Book 1 for some vocabulary. Meanwhile, Baby Z sat in his stroller, minding his own business, that is, until he began to stand up and gestured to be picked up.
While saddling him on my hips, I dictated the Arabic words to the kids. Fascinated by his surroundings, Baby Z pointed to everything, uttering soft babbles. Straddling him across my tummy, I held his back and swung him around like a helicopter propeller, to which he squealed in utter delight. After a while, he grew heavier in my arms, the kids' demand for more words, and having to check their spelling tired me. This was easier in theory than in practice, at least because of Baby Z. That is basically the summary of my experience homeschooling with a nursing baby; it's a vicious continuous cycle of juggling challenge, in fact, the ultimate juggling challenge, at least in my life experience.
Nevertheless, we did get our outdoor Arabic, plus some Quranic vocabulary. I guess I'll settle with that for now.
Monday, June 02, 2008
A Monday Morning Walk
"You wanna go out?"
"No," the girls chorused from their room.
They're too engrossed in crocheting dolls since a few days ago. I still am amazed at S's ability to read the crochet instructions, when I myself find them rather...hyroglyphicsish. When we entered the library last weekend, as usual, my gaze would fall upon the display shelf on the right, and quickly, I would scan it, looking for interesting non fiction books. Summers ago I used to indulge in reading fictions, but I can't even finish reading the non fiction books I have now, so the fiction will just have to sit in the back burner (if I ever get to them that is). I spotted the book Toys to Crochet, and pointed it out to the kids. The girls took it, and really took to it right away. Before long, S had her crochet needles out, and was crocheting away.
Yesterday, she showed me the doll she is making. Let's just say,
"This girl has some talent!"
Mashaallah!
Only H wanted to go out, so after heating a small bowl of nasi goreng for myself, and fishing for an abaya, hijab, and socks, we went outside, H on his bike, me walking pushing Baby Z in his stroller. H was about to take me to the creek, the talked-about creek where they saw beavers, frogs and tadpoles. On the way, as H biked in front of me, I said to him,
"Hmm, maybe we can go to Big Lots. But Oh, I didn't bring my money."
In all honesty, I was just looking for some exercise. I have been cooped up in the house, in front of the computer so much, that it's just ridiculous. I know I have to exercise and at least have some fresh air, but the books and writing are too compelling to leave behind. What with struggling finding time to write, I couldn't leave the house willingly. This morning, I made sure I did.
Walking all the way to Big Lots sounded appealing to me, because of the potential calories I would burn, and the possible muscle building that might occur. So, we decided to go, even without money. As we neared the traffic lights, H remarked,
"Where would I put my bike?"
This is what happens when you do something on impulse. I'm not a naturally impulsive person, I love planning. So what happened next, was a result of a lack of planning on my part.
"I can go home and get my bike lock."
I let him go, and waited with Baby Z under the cool shade of the a tree. Baby Z adores being out, and in his silent manner, he observed everything around him, pointing every now and then. It reminded me of the times when I used to take the three kids out in the mornings when they were respectively 3, 2, and almost 1 year old.
After a few minutes, I saw H approaching on his bike.
"S's coming!"
I groaned inside. My impulsive plan did not include lugging all four kids to the store. That's just work.
"How about N? Is she coming?"
"No."
"No, she's not leaving N at home by herself. Go back and tell her she's not coming," I said to H, feeling irritation creeping up my neck.
"If N comes can she go?" asked H. He probably feels bad for his sister.
"No, tell her, if she wants to go, we can go later with the van."
H rushed back, and came back to me with
"She still wants to go. And N's coming too."
I feel the irritation growing. What was supposed to be simple mother with two children has turned into mother with four children to watch and mind while crossing the road.
Well, we ended up just that: a mother with four children around her skirt.
On the way back home, I asked them to show me the creek. Boy, was I surprised to find out that the creek was actually more of a sewer.
"That's not a creek! It's a sewer!"
It was also fenced, and as I followed S through brambles and bushes, I found myself standing outside the compounds of Buckeye Village. It was a child's heaven, though I also found myself being rather scared. As S dodged branches, and crawled under bushes, I hesitated. I was holding the camcorder, but my hesitation was due to an irrational fear of snakes and unexpected animals pouncing on me. Seriously, being an adult is not fun. When I was S's age, I used to romp around my father's orchard, chasing the geese, chickens, dodging ninjas between the tapioca trees and chicken hut, running around the man made fish pond where biawaks (type of lizard) have been spotted eating the fish, and pretending I was in the jungle. But now, I'm scared to even crawl through some harmless bushes to see the 'rooms' the kids had found.
I was disappointed with myself. I could't seem to get over the fear. Maybe I've been reading too much. However, I did do one thing that I haven't done for quite some time; ride a bike. Personally I hate riding bikes, for reason I don't wish to disclose here, but boy was I tempted to this morning, in the heat of the moment. Actually I just wanted to see if I could get on it without looking too ridiculous. As soon as I got on it, it felt fearfully high, and I asked S how she managed.
She proceeded to push me, but I screamed, and begged her to stop. She then proceeded to show me how, and indignantly I responded,
"I know how to ride a bike!"
Well, let's just say, I got on it, pedaled, and pedaled all the way home, taking a route where the least number of people could see me. I did pass by the child care center where the children were paying outside on the way. As I pedaled, I began to think,
"Hmm...this is quite fun. It's good exercise too."
Since my rollerblades are now gone, maybe...maybe...
"No," the girls chorused from their room.
They're too engrossed in crocheting dolls since a few days ago. I still am amazed at S's ability to read the crochet instructions, when I myself find them rather...hyroglyphicsish. When we entered the library last weekend, as usual, my gaze would fall upon the display shelf on the right, and quickly, I would scan it, looking for interesting non fiction books. Summers ago I used to indulge in reading fictions, but I can't even finish reading the non fiction books I have now, so the fiction will just have to sit in the back burner (if I ever get to them that is). I spotted the book Toys to Crochet, and pointed it out to the kids. The girls took it, and really took to it right away. Before long, S had her crochet needles out, and was crocheting away.
Yesterday, she showed me the doll she is making. Let's just say,
"This girl has some talent!"
Mashaallah!
Only H wanted to go out, so after heating a small bowl of nasi goreng for myself, and fishing for an abaya, hijab, and socks, we went outside, H on his bike, me walking pushing Baby Z in his stroller. H was about to take me to the creek, the talked-about creek where they saw beavers, frogs and tadpoles. On the way, as H biked in front of me, I said to him,
"Hmm, maybe we can go to Big Lots. But Oh, I didn't bring my money."
In all honesty, I was just looking for some exercise. I have been cooped up in the house, in front of the computer so much, that it's just ridiculous. I know I have to exercise and at least have some fresh air, but the books and writing are too compelling to leave behind. What with struggling finding time to write, I couldn't leave the house willingly. This morning, I made sure I did.
Walking all the way to Big Lots sounded appealing to me, because of the potential calories I would burn, and the possible muscle building that might occur. So, we decided to go, even without money. As we neared the traffic lights, H remarked,
"Where would I put my bike?"
This is what happens when you do something on impulse. I'm not a naturally impulsive person, I love planning. So what happened next, was a result of a lack of planning on my part.
"I can go home and get my bike lock."
I let him go, and waited with Baby Z under the cool shade of the a tree. Baby Z adores being out, and in his silent manner, he observed everything around him, pointing every now and then. It reminded me of the times when I used to take the three kids out in the mornings when they were respectively 3, 2, and almost 1 year old.
After a few minutes, I saw H approaching on his bike.
"S's coming!"
I groaned inside. My impulsive plan did not include lugging all four kids to the store. That's just work.
"How about N? Is she coming?"
"No."
"No, she's not leaving N at home by herself. Go back and tell her she's not coming," I said to H, feeling irritation creeping up my neck.
"If N comes can she go?" asked H. He probably feels bad for his sister.
"No, tell her, if she wants to go, we can go later with the van."
H rushed back, and came back to me with
"She still wants to go. And N's coming too."
I feel the irritation growing. What was supposed to be simple mother with two children has turned into mother with four children to watch and mind while crossing the road.
Well, we ended up just that: a mother with four children around her skirt.
On the way back home, I asked them to show me the creek. Boy, was I surprised to find out that the creek was actually more of a sewer.
"That's not a creek! It's a sewer!"
It was also fenced, and as I followed S through brambles and bushes, I found myself standing outside the compounds of Buckeye Village. It was a child's heaven, though I also found myself being rather scared. As S dodged branches, and crawled under bushes, I hesitated. I was holding the camcorder, but my hesitation was due to an irrational fear of snakes and unexpected animals pouncing on me. Seriously, being an adult is not fun. When I was S's age, I used to romp around my father's orchard, chasing the geese, chickens, dodging ninjas between the tapioca trees and chicken hut, running around the man made fish pond where biawaks (type of lizard) have been spotted eating the fish, and pretending I was in the jungle. But now, I'm scared to even crawl through some harmless bushes to see the 'rooms' the kids had found.
I was disappointed with myself. I could't seem to get over the fear. Maybe I've been reading too much. However, I did do one thing that I haven't done for quite some time; ride a bike. Personally I hate riding bikes, for reason I don't wish to disclose here, but boy was I tempted to this morning, in the heat of the moment. Actually I just wanted to see if I could get on it without looking too ridiculous. As soon as I got on it, it felt fearfully high, and I asked S how she managed.
She proceeded to push me, but I screamed, and begged her to stop. She then proceeded to show me how, and indignantly I responded,
"I know how to ride a bike!"
Well, let's just say, I got on it, pedaled, and pedaled all the way home, taking a route where the least number of people could see me. I did pass by the child care center where the children were paying outside on the way. As I pedaled, I began to think,
"Hmm...this is quite fun. It's good exercise too."
Since my rollerblades are now gone, maybe...maybe...
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Unmotivated Child
I was reading a back issue of Home Education Magazine, and came across a question-answer article titled Stifled by Excellence. The questioner was a homeschooling dad who is troubled by his unmotivated 13 year old daughter who has been homeschooled by her mother who is a perfectionist. Her mother has given up in pushing her daughter to 'do school', and handed over the task to the father. The father was asking how he could change his daughter to have crave learning.
The problem sounds a little bit like the problem I was having with my kids, who would groan whenever I tell them to 'do school'. I had read about how 'public-school-at-home' deemed as homeschooling is actually detrimental to the status of traditional homeschooling in America, but in the chaos of 'schooling' my kids, I had not enough time to ponder over the matter. I knew in the depths of my heart that the 'school' I was imposing on my children are in a way making them hate 'learning'. In this way, they are no different than kids who go to school. But I was too caught up in worries of not having official records to show for their schooling when we go back to Malaysia, if we do (which I hope not for simplicity's sake- with regards to their schooling). Plus, hubby said that we could not afford to homeschool them the traditional way, and to keep doing the 'umbrella program' because the computer and other materials are free. So I did stick with it, until recently, thanks to the arrival of Baby Z, who made me rethink everything, and research everything again, with fresh eyes, and a new open mind.
The advice given to this problem is that of common sense. Well, it seems common sense to me now, at least. Instead of focusing to change the child, the father is advised to change himself first, build a relationship with his daughter, let his daughter pursue and discover her interests, and allow her to make mistakes. And instead of focusing on perfection and doing school, she should be allowed to explore the world at her own pace so she might discover her true interests. A love of learning is developed when it is not forced. That is true. I can say that from observation of my children and my own experience.
This morning, the three kids and I went out to play tennis, while Baby Z napped at home, with hubby to watch him. After tennis, which was not that productive because the morning was somewhat hot since we went a little late, around 10 am, so we headed for the library. Since the kids were already engrossed in their little 'research' and Powerpoint presentations, they were excited when I told them they could check out books. I grabbed my reserved book from the reserve shelf, and looked for the kids in the children's section.
They were nowhere to be seen. Suffice it to say, I was a little concerned, and headed for the van, thinking that they might be there, but they were not. So I went back to the library, and looked for them again. In my head, I was already thinking of child abduction. Lo and behold, I found them in the non fiction aisle in the adult section. The library had recently revamped its aisles, so all the non fiction books were put in the adult section.
I held my tongue, which was about to say,
"Where'd you guys go?! I was looking for you!"
Worry is commonly replaced by anger once the cause for worry is gone, isn't it? Especially when it concerns your loved ones.
I truly think the unschooling concept about allowing children to explore their own interest has a lot of merit. I already see it in action in my kids now. Alhamdulillah.
I also read another article about homeschoolers worrying about formal credentials. It was interesting to note that this is what most people worry about when considering unschooling in the complete sense. (The definition of unschooling plays an important role in this discussion). In the article, it was said that formal credentials such as degrees, diplomas, certificates and such are so prestigious today that none will dare to question their worth. However, in essence, when looking for a job, informal credentials are what will distinguish you from all the other people with the same formal credentials. Plus, it makes more sense to hone your strengths in developing your informal credentials than to put your nose to the grindstone to gather the formal credentials, while not knowing what your true interests are. This was true for me. I went into my major, just like everybody else, not having my heart in it, but only doing so because it was the normal thing to do.
Nevertheless, it doesn't hurt to attain those formal credentials if you already know your interests beforehand. I only attained 'formal credentials' in my areas of interests after I graduated from college. I won't say my time in college is a waste, because it was what has shaped me into who I am today, but you have to admit that there are some things in life that you could have approached in a better way in order to optimize and maximize the output, here and in the hereafter.
The problem sounds a little bit like the problem I was having with my kids, who would groan whenever I tell them to 'do school'. I had read about how 'public-school-at-home' deemed as homeschooling is actually detrimental to the status of traditional homeschooling in America, but in the chaos of 'schooling' my kids, I had not enough time to ponder over the matter. I knew in the depths of my heart that the 'school' I was imposing on my children are in a way making them hate 'learning'. In this way, they are no different than kids who go to school. But I was too caught up in worries of not having official records to show for their schooling when we go back to Malaysia, if we do (which I hope not for simplicity's sake- with regards to their schooling). Plus, hubby said that we could not afford to homeschool them the traditional way, and to keep doing the 'umbrella program' because the computer and other materials are free. So I did stick with it, until recently, thanks to the arrival of Baby Z, who made me rethink everything, and research everything again, with fresh eyes, and a new open mind.
The advice given to this problem is that of common sense. Well, it seems common sense to me now, at least. Instead of focusing to change the child, the father is advised to change himself first, build a relationship with his daughter, let his daughter pursue and discover her interests, and allow her to make mistakes. And instead of focusing on perfection and doing school, she should be allowed to explore the world at her own pace so she might discover her true interests. A love of learning is developed when it is not forced. That is true. I can say that from observation of my children and my own experience.
This morning, the three kids and I went out to play tennis, while Baby Z napped at home, with hubby to watch him. After tennis, which was not that productive because the morning was somewhat hot since we went a little late, around 10 am, so we headed for the library. Since the kids were already engrossed in their little 'research' and Powerpoint presentations, they were excited when I told them they could check out books. I grabbed my reserved book from the reserve shelf, and looked for the kids in the children's section.
They were nowhere to be seen. Suffice it to say, I was a little concerned, and headed for the van, thinking that they might be there, but they were not. So I went back to the library, and looked for them again. In my head, I was already thinking of child abduction. Lo and behold, I found them in the non fiction aisle in the adult section. The library had recently revamped its aisles, so all the non fiction books were put in the adult section.
I held my tongue, which was about to say,
"Where'd you guys go?! I was looking for you!"
Worry is commonly replaced by anger once the cause for worry is gone, isn't it? Especially when it concerns your loved ones.
I truly think the unschooling concept about allowing children to explore their own interest has a lot of merit. I already see it in action in my kids now. Alhamdulillah.
I also read another article about homeschoolers worrying about formal credentials. It was interesting to note that this is what most people worry about when considering unschooling in the complete sense. (The definition of unschooling plays an important role in this discussion). In the article, it was said that formal credentials such as degrees, diplomas, certificates and such are so prestigious today that none will dare to question their worth. However, in essence, when looking for a job, informal credentials are what will distinguish you from all the other people with the same formal credentials. Plus, it makes more sense to hone your strengths in developing your informal credentials than to put your nose to the grindstone to gather the formal credentials, while not knowing what your true interests are. This was true for me. I went into my major, just like everybody else, not having my heart in it, but only doing so because it was the normal thing to do.
Nevertheless, it doesn't hurt to attain those formal credentials if you already know your interests beforehand. I only attained 'formal credentials' in my areas of interests after I graduated from college. I won't say my time in college is a waste, because it was what has shaped me into who I am today, but you have to admit that there are some things in life that you could have approached in a better way in order to optimize and maximize the output, here and in the hereafter.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Powerpoint Craze!
Well it seems like everyone is doing his/her Powerpoint presentation today. I woke up to find the kids on the computer, working on their 'current interest'; H - monkeys, N - cats, S -horses.
My urge to use the computer had to be suppressed because I didn't want to shoo them off while they're doing something rather 'beneficial' (at least to my schooled mindset). H and N had started on their Powerpoint files yesterday, and S, seeing both of them glued to the computer, followed suit, and shooed N off the computer upstairs, claiming that N had used the computer all day yesterday to work on PPT. Fancy that! Usually you shoo your sibling off the computer because you want to play a computer game!
I looked at N's PPT, and it turned out that she had merely googled the different breed of cats, copied and pasted the information about them in her PPT slides. So we talked about plagiarism, (again). The next time I looked at it, she had changed some things, but S said,
"No, she only changed a few words."
We talked about plagiarism again.
"But I don't know what to write," lamented N.
"See here, the graph. Maybe you can write, oh, this cat is very gentle, from looking at the docility level from the graph," I said.
After that I think she got the idea.
As for H, he's on a roll with his monkey business!
"Ummi, do you know the difference between ape and monkeys?"
"No."
"Apes don't have tails!"
"Oh!" Now, I really didn't know that. That was news to me. Pretty interesting!
I found dictionary.com opened as tabs on the browser. Apparently, they were looking up words they don't understand from what they were reading on their subject matter.
"Ummi, what's mutilated?"
"Oh, it means when you cut off limbs, and pieces of your body. Hamzah Abdul Mutallib was mutilated because Hind ripped his liver out."
He looked at me, glasses sliding down his nose, giving him that old professor look, and nodded.
"Colobus is Greek for mutilated."
Ahh...I received another interesting piece of information.
Were I to write down all that they're doing now, educationalesed of course, it would probably look like this:
S:
Science: Hands on experience observing wildlife in a nearby creek. Learned to distinguish a groundhog from a beaver. Observed a beaver/groundhog hole. Looked up information about beavers/groundhogs in books and the internet. Used the dictionary to look up words she doesn't know.
Math: Measured out ingredients for making pizza. Used the timer. Counted her savings, and updated it on her online ledger, subtracting and adding new amounts.
Technology: used Microsoft Powerpoint. Looked up information on the internet. Used the online dictionary. Found images on the internet, related to her research, and manipulated them in her Powerpoint slides.
and so on...except I didn't really keep track of all the resources they used. I can see how this might work already.
But for now it seems that we're having Powerpoint Mania. Good thing I didn't let them play outside yesterday, and they're already sick and tired of the computer games.
My urge to use the computer had to be suppressed because I didn't want to shoo them off while they're doing something rather 'beneficial' (at least to my schooled mindset). H and N had started on their Powerpoint files yesterday, and S, seeing both of them glued to the computer, followed suit, and shooed N off the computer upstairs, claiming that N had used the computer all day yesterday to work on PPT. Fancy that! Usually you shoo your sibling off the computer because you want to play a computer game!
I looked at N's PPT, and it turned out that she had merely googled the different breed of cats, copied and pasted the information about them in her PPT slides. So we talked about plagiarism, (again). The next time I looked at it, she had changed some things, but S said,
"No, she only changed a few words."
We talked about plagiarism again.
"But I don't know what to write," lamented N.
"See here, the graph. Maybe you can write, oh, this cat is very gentle, from looking at the docility level from the graph," I said.
After that I think she got the idea.
As for H, he's on a roll with his monkey business!
"Ummi, do you know the difference between ape and monkeys?"
"No."
"Apes don't have tails!"
"Oh!" Now, I really didn't know that. That was news to me. Pretty interesting!
I found dictionary.com opened as tabs on the browser. Apparently, they were looking up words they don't understand from what they were reading on their subject matter.
"Ummi, what's mutilated?"
"Oh, it means when you cut off limbs, and pieces of your body. Hamzah Abdul Mutallib was mutilated because Hind ripped his liver out."
He looked at me, glasses sliding down his nose, giving him that old professor look, and nodded.
"Colobus is Greek for mutilated."
Ahh...I received another interesting piece of information.
Were I to write down all that they're doing now, educationalesed of course, it would probably look like this:
S:
Science: Hands on experience observing wildlife in a nearby creek. Learned to distinguish a groundhog from a beaver. Observed a beaver/groundhog hole. Looked up information about beavers/groundhogs in books and the internet. Used the dictionary to look up words she doesn't know.
Math: Measured out ingredients for making pizza. Used the timer. Counted her savings, and updated it on her online ledger, subtracting and adding new amounts.
Technology: used Microsoft Powerpoint. Looked up information on the internet. Used the online dictionary. Found images on the internet, related to her research, and manipulated them in her Powerpoint slides.
and so on...except I didn't really keep track of all the resources they used. I can see how this might work already.
But for now it seems that we're having Powerpoint Mania. Good thing I didn't let them play outside yesterday, and they're already sick and tired of the computer games.
Vaccine Resources
From the book: Vaccine Guide Risks and benefits for Children and Adults by Randall Neustaedter OMD
I thought I'd jot down the resources mentioned at the end of the book for future references.
Resources:
National Vaccine Information Center
National Center for Homeopathy
Council for Homeopathic Certification
Homeopathic Educational Services
Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System
Books:
What Your Doctor May Not Tell You about Children's Vaccinations
A Shot in the Dark
Immunization: The Reality Behind the Myth
Vaccines: Are They Really Safe and Effective?
Websites:
Updates to the Vaccine Guide
Vaccine Information & Awareness (VIA)
Center for Disease Control
Practitioner Directories:
Directory of naturopathic physicians
American Association of Oriental Medicine members
Members of the California State Oriental Medical Association
Now I can return this book to the library.
I thought I'd jot down the resources mentioned at the end of the book for future references.
Resources:
National Vaccine Information Center
National Center for Homeopathy
Council for Homeopathic Certification
Homeopathic Educational Services
Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System
Books:
What Your Doctor May Not Tell You about Children's Vaccinations
A Shot in the Dark
Immunization: The Reality Behind the Myth
Vaccines: Are They Really Safe and Effective?
Websites:
Updates to the Vaccine Guide
Vaccine Information & Awareness (VIA)
Center for Disease Control
Practitioner Directories:
Directory of naturopathic physicians
American Association of Oriental Medicine members
Members of the California State Oriental Medical Association
Now I can return this book to the library.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Left on Their Own
We have been having blissful days of unschooling. Our daily schedule is roughly like this now:
Fajr -> Quran -> breakfast -> feed Baby Z breakfast -> play outside -> lunch -> feed Baby Z lunch -> chores ->Zuhr -> naptime -> reading/computer games -> Asr -> play outside -> dinner -> feed Baby Z dinner -> maghrib -> Isha -> bedtime
Well, the kids' schedule that is. Playing outside seems to provide them with a lot of hands on science lessons in the animal kingdom. Like always, they come back and chatter excitedly about the animals they found in the creek; frogs, beavers, groundhogs, fish.
Recently, they came home and told me they had built their home out of twigs and branches, and that each of them have their own rooms. I have yet to see this place. It reminds me of Bridge to Terabithia.
When they're home, they're either reading or playing computer games. I have to admit, I got hooked up on Pacman too at times, such that they had to tell me to stop. Nevertheless, after a while, they tired of playing computer games, and would go outside either to explore or play with the neighbor. For a while, they stayed indoors, prompting me to ask them,
"You guys are not playing outside today? How come?"
"There's nothing to do outside. We just ride our bikes and that's it."
I thought to myself,
"It's high time I get my behind off the computer chair and take them somewhere. It's summerish anyway."
Today, we went out in the morning. We were supposed to leave the house at 8:30 a.m. (my chosen time), but we ended up leaving around 9:45, what with all the eating, bathing Baby Z, getting the stuff in the van, nursing him. Alhamdulillah we weren't rushing. We did some grocery shopping, went to the library, and another library, and went back home.
H and N were forbidden from going out after Asr today because I had to remind them (not too patiently at that) to do their chores, when it is well known that chores come naturally after lunch.
"Can I do my orangutan essay on Powerpoint?" H asked me as I was cleaning the kitchen after dinner.
"You want to do an essay?"
"For fun?"
"Yeah."
I paused for a few seconds before exclaiming,
"Yeah! Go ahead! That's very good!"
"Me too!" chimed N, who was silently finishing her dinner.
"On cats?" I asked.
"Yes."
Before dinner, she brought the encyclopaedia of cat breeds to me to show me the different cats. This is her 'current interest'.
She was even reading a non fiction book on the History of cats, earlier today, that I remember thinking,
"Hmm...she seems to be the one most thriving in unschooling. S and H are obedient and submissive in schooling, but in unschooling, they don't seem to have that much 'fire', but N seems to flourish."
I was reading Christian Unschooling today, and one thing struck me regarding math. Consumer math (making change, balancing checkbooks, etc) can be learned naturally in daily life, or with some assistance. The author of the book said that she focuses on consumer math, and for the other types of math, if her children wish to pursue them later on, it will be up to them.
It kind of makes sense. I don't use the calculus I learned in college. I could have used that time to enhance my writing skill (something I'm interested in, only, I didn't realize I was interested in writing because of the schooling mindset plus the societal expectations that ruled all of the schooled children's lives).
So, I guess we will continue this relaxed experimental unschooling, and see how it goes. So far, I think the kids have learned a lot, all on their own, mashaallah. A take home message I got today from my reading about unschooling:
You're mostly a facilitator rather than a teacher. A huge difference indeed!
Fajr -> Quran -> breakfast -> feed Baby Z breakfast -> play outside -> lunch -> feed Baby Z lunch -> chores ->Zuhr -> naptime -> reading/computer games -> Asr -> play outside -> dinner -> feed Baby Z dinner -> maghrib -> Isha -> bedtime
Well, the kids' schedule that is. Playing outside seems to provide them with a lot of hands on science lessons in the animal kingdom. Like always, they come back and chatter excitedly about the animals they found in the creek; frogs, beavers, groundhogs, fish.
Recently, they came home and told me they had built their home out of twigs and branches, and that each of them have their own rooms. I have yet to see this place. It reminds me of Bridge to Terabithia.
When they're home, they're either reading or playing computer games. I have to admit, I got hooked up on Pacman too at times, such that they had to tell me to stop. Nevertheless, after a while, they tired of playing computer games, and would go outside either to explore or play with the neighbor. For a while, they stayed indoors, prompting me to ask them,
"You guys are not playing outside today? How come?"
"There's nothing to do outside. We just ride our bikes and that's it."
I thought to myself,
"It's high time I get my behind off the computer chair and take them somewhere. It's summerish anyway."
Today, we went out in the morning. We were supposed to leave the house at 8:30 a.m. (my chosen time), but we ended up leaving around 9:45, what with all the eating, bathing Baby Z, getting the stuff in the van, nursing him. Alhamdulillah we weren't rushing. We did some grocery shopping, went to the library, and another library, and went back home.
H and N were forbidden from going out after Asr today because I had to remind them (not too patiently at that) to do their chores, when it is well known that chores come naturally after lunch.
"Can I do my orangutan essay on Powerpoint?" H asked me as I was cleaning the kitchen after dinner.
"You want to do an essay?"
"For fun?"
"Yeah."
I paused for a few seconds before exclaiming,
"Yeah! Go ahead! That's very good!"
"Me too!" chimed N, who was silently finishing her dinner.
"On cats?" I asked.
"Yes."
Before dinner, she brought the encyclopaedia of cat breeds to me to show me the different cats. This is her 'current interest'.
She was even reading a non fiction book on the History of cats, earlier today, that I remember thinking,
"Hmm...she seems to be the one most thriving in unschooling. S and H are obedient and submissive in schooling, but in unschooling, they don't seem to have that much 'fire', but N seems to flourish."
I was reading Christian Unschooling today, and one thing struck me regarding math. Consumer math (making change, balancing checkbooks, etc) can be learned naturally in daily life, or with some assistance. The author of the book said that she focuses on consumer math, and for the other types of math, if her children wish to pursue them later on, it will be up to them.
It kind of makes sense. I don't use the calculus I learned in college. I could have used that time to enhance my writing skill (something I'm interested in, only, I didn't realize I was interested in writing because of the schooling mindset plus the societal expectations that ruled all of the schooled children's lives).
So, I guess we will continue this relaxed experimental unschooling, and see how it goes. So far, I think the kids have learned a lot, all on their own, mashaallah. A take home message I got today from my reading about unschooling:
You're mostly a facilitator rather than a teacher. A huge difference indeed!
Monday, May 26, 2008
What was my part about?
I have been skimping on N's Quran lately. We're supposed to do the reading, checking tajweed, and tafsir Ibn Kathir for half a page after Asr or Maghrib, and do memorization with meaning and some Arabic keywords after Zuhr.
So, last Sunday, after Fajr, I felt unexpectedly fresh, and I told N to get the mushaf and read with me. The day before, I had asked her to get her mushaf while waiting for Rh to do her '20-minute wudhu' (Rh, if you're reading, this is dedicated for you ;)), but she dawdled, and we blew that slice in time. So since she didn't read on Friday and Saturday, I made sure we read that Sunday. And since S and H haven't been reading with their father, I read with them too.
We ended up sitting in our prayer garments, and H is in his thawb, for about 2 hours that morning!
N went first, reading half a page of her portion in Surah Al-A'raaf. Then H read his one page portion in Surah An-Nisaa'. S then read her one page portion in Surah Hud. I then proceeded to read the verses they read and do the tafsir of each portion.
While waiting for S and H to be done, N laid in bed with her prayer garment, and fell asleep. When I was going over her portion, she was still sleeping.
"N's sleeping!" said S.
"That's ok. Leave her," I said.
Since the kids wake up for Fajr now, and stay up for Isha', we have a sleep problem. These kids do not want to go back to sleep after Fajr, and recently when I asked why, they said,
"Because we usually do Quran after fajr."
"Yeah, and then by the time we're done, we're hungry."
"And germy-breathed," quipped H, flashing his artificial dimple.
So when N slept, I was somewhat relieved, for even with their daily two hour or so nap, they still don't have enough sleep.
By the time we were done, Baby Z had a really full diaper, was fidgety because he had been romping around the room ever since we prayed Fajr, getting no breastmilk or food, and the time was 8:30 a.m. N happened to wake up while I was doing the Tafsir on S's portion, on when a group of angels came to Prophet Ibrahim alahis salam and then Prophet Lut alahis salam.
After S took Baby Z downstairs to feed him, I told N,
"You missed your part, N. You slept."
"No, I didn't," she replied.
"Yes you did."
She was so sleepy she didn't even realize she had fallen asleep. I'm sure it was a sound quality sleep, inshaallah. I put away the Tafsir books on the table, and she came to me and asked,
"What was my part about?"
To be honest, after all the elaboration on the story of Prophet Lut alahis salam, I had forgotten about what hers was about, and I didn't expect her to actually ask me what she missed, subhanallah!
I looked it up.
"Oh, it was about how when nations after nations are thrown into the hellfire, the newer nation will blame the earlier nations for misleading them."
And she went downstairs, satisfied, catching up with what she had missed. When she finished surah Al An'aam and started on Al A'raaf, I told her,
"Oh, N, this surah is interesting. It tells about some people who will be sitting on a wall and are able to see both hell and jannah."
Ever since then, she has been excited to listen to the tafsir, though she has always had a fascination for listening to the meaning before. In a few more verses, we will come to that part of the Surah.
Now, whenever I do the Tafsir with N, I ask the others to come and sit and listen too. Doing it in small chunks each time, I think, helps prevent burn out.
However, as soon as I looked at the time when we were done, I said out loud,
"We have been sitting here for 2 hours! Will never do this again."
Even though it's good, it's a tad unrealistic for us to do this everyday, because at some point, Baby Z might not cooperate waiting to be bathed, fed, and nursed so long, and long sessions may very well lead to burn out to the speaker and the listeners. Short sessions, I have found, work better with kids, as they retain the material longer and better.
"Stop before they ask you to stop," is my motto for any lessons with the kids.
So, last Sunday, after Fajr, I felt unexpectedly fresh, and I told N to get the mushaf and read with me. The day before, I had asked her to get her mushaf while waiting for Rh to do her '20-minute wudhu' (Rh, if you're reading, this is dedicated for you ;)), but she dawdled, and we blew that slice in time. So since she didn't read on Friday and Saturday, I made sure we read that Sunday. And since S and H haven't been reading with their father, I read with them too.
We ended up sitting in our prayer garments, and H is in his thawb, for about 2 hours that morning!
N went first, reading half a page of her portion in Surah Al-A'raaf. Then H read his one page portion in Surah An-Nisaa'. S then read her one page portion in Surah Hud. I then proceeded to read the verses they read and do the tafsir of each portion.
While waiting for S and H to be done, N laid in bed with her prayer garment, and fell asleep. When I was going over her portion, she was still sleeping.
"N's sleeping!" said S.
"That's ok. Leave her," I said.
Since the kids wake up for Fajr now, and stay up for Isha', we have a sleep problem. These kids do not want to go back to sleep after Fajr, and recently when I asked why, they said,
"Because we usually do Quran after fajr."
"Yeah, and then by the time we're done, we're hungry."
"And germy-breathed," quipped H, flashing his artificial dimple.
So when N slept, I was somewhat relieved, for even with their daily two hour or so nap, they still don't have enough sleep.
By the time we were done, Baby Z had a really full diaper, was fidgety because he had been romping around the room ever since we prayed Fajr, getting no breastmilk or food, and the time was 8:30 a.m. N happened to wake up while I was doing the Tafsir on S's portion, on when a group of angels came to Prophet Ibrahim alahis salam and then Prophet Lut alahis salam.
After S took Baby Z downstairs to feed him, I told N,
"You missed your part, N. You slept."
"No, I didn't," she replied.
"Yes you did."
She was so sleepy she didn't even realize she had fallen asleep. I'm sure it was a sound quality sleep, inshaallah. I put away the Tafsir books on the table, and she came to me and asked,
"What was my part about?"
To be honest, after all the elaboration on the story of Prophet Lut alahis salam, I had forgotten about what hers was about, and I didn't expect her to actually ask me what she missed, subhanallah!
I looked it up.
"Oh, it was about how when nations after nations are thrown into the hellfire, the newer nation will blame the earlier nations for misleading them."
And she went downstairs, satisfied, catching up with what she had missed. When she finished surah Al An'aam and started on Al A'raaf, I told her,
"Oh, N, this surah is interesting. It tells about some people who will be sitting on a wall and are able to see both hell and jannah."
Ever since then, she has been excited to listen to the tafsir, though she has always had a fascination for listening to the meaning before. In a few more verses, we will come to that part of the Surah.
Now, whenever I do the Tafsir with N, I ask the others to come and sit and listen too. Doing it in small chunks each time, I think, helps prevent burn out.
However, as soon as I looked at the time when we were done, I said out loud,
"We have been sitting here for 2 hours! Will never do this again."
Even though it's good, it's a tad unrealistic for us to do this everyday, because at some point, Baby Z might not cooperate waiting to be bathed, fed, and nursed so long, and long sessions may very well lead to burn out to the speaker and the listeners. Short sessions, I have found, work better with kids, as they retain the material longer and better.
"Stop before they ask you to stop," is my motto for any lessons with the kids.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Party!
Hubby left for Illinois Friday afternoon, and Ummi had herself some girlish fun. We invited Rh to come and sleep over, called Auntie Sh, and planned a picnic for Saturday.
With some broiled marinated chicken drumsticks, Fried rice, and Auntie Sh's Pad Thai, we headed off for Whetstone Park of Roses and sat at the picnic table by the casting pond. H brought hubby's rollerblades and they all took turns skating around the pond while the women ate and took turns watching the babies.
The weather was nice, not too hot, not too cold. We should do this more often.
I recall the picnic I had with the kids at Upper Arlington Library. That was quite some time ago, when S wasn't even wearing hijab yet. She skated too at the time while we sat at the table, eating our Biryani. I love picnics like that. The kids love it too.
Hubby though is the practical kind of guy, no picnics - "too much of a hassle" he says. As far as I remember, we have never had a picnic as a whole family. It has always been me and the kids. When my mother came, she had a picnic with the kids too, right here in Buckeye Village.
On Friday though, as I watched the kids skating outside the house, I asked them,
"Where're my rollerblades?"
Once I was pregnant with Baby Z, I stopped rollerblading, and for a while forgot about it. S's friend, M, used to come over and use my rollerblades. When I asked them where my rollerblades were, they said,
"M borrowed it."
"You mean she never returned it?!"
I was dismayed. M's family has recently moved back to Algeria, and she never returned my blades. Poof! Just like that. Subhanallah!
Suffice it to say, I was very dismayed, and mourned the loss of my rollerblades, now that I am able to use it again. Inna lillaaahi wainna ilaihi raaji'oon.
Today, we had the Somali sisters over for a gathering that was long overdue. All in all, it has been a really fun weekend, an all girls weekend.
The only thing that struck a sad chord in me was N's apparent attachment to hubby.
While we were praying, Rh came and got something from the table. After we were done, N said to me,
"Abi's here."
"No he's not."
"Yes, while we were praying, he took something from the table."
I had to convince her that that was Rh, and not her father. When I asked her if she missed her father, she nodded.
Today, when she woke up from her nap, she came down to the kitchen to me, and the first thing she asked was,
"Is Abi home yet?"
When she knew that hubby was not going to be home until later tonight, inshaallah.
As for the other two, they denied missing hubby, as expected. H just said,
"I want to see if he got a medal for the swimming."
With a stretched ligament, their father placed fourth in the swimming event. Upon hearing the news from Sh, I exclaimed,
"All the other swimmers must be so bad!"
With some broiled marinated chicken drumsticks, Fried rice, and Auntie Sh's Pad Thai, we headed off for Whetstone Park of Roses and sat at the picnic table by the casting pond. H brought hubby's rollerblades and they all took turns skating around the pond while the women ate and took turns watching the babies.
The weather was nice, not too hot, not too cold. We should do this more often.
I recall the picnic I had with the kids at Upper Arlington Library. That was quite some time ago, when S wasn't even wearing hijab yet. She skated too at the time while we sat at the table, eating our Biryani. I love picnics like that. The kids love it too.
Hubby though is the practical kind of guy, no picnics - "too much of a hassle" he says. As far as I remember, we have never had a picnic as a whole family. It has always been me and the kids. When my mother came, she had a picnic with the kids too, right here in Buckeye Village.
On Friday though, as I watched the kids skating outside the house, I asked them,
"Where're my rollerblades?"
Once I was pregnant with Baby Z, I stopped rollerblading, and for a while forgot about it. S's friend, M, used to come over and use my rollerblades. When I asked them where my rollerblades were, they said,
"M borrowed it."
"You mean she never returned it?!"
I was dismayed. M's family has recently moved back to Algeria, and she never returned my blades. Poof! Just like that. Subhanallah!
Suffice it to say, I was very dismayed, and mourned the loss of my rollerblades, now that I am able to use it again. Inna lillaaahi wainna ilaihi raaji'oon.
Today, we had the Somali sisters over for a gathering that was long overdue. All in all, it has been a really fun weekend, an all girls weekend.
The only thing that struck a sad chord in me was N's apparent attachment to hubby.
While we were praying, Rh came and got something from the table. After we were done, N said to me,
"Abi's here."
"No he's not."
"Yes, while we were praying, he took something from the table."
I had to convince her that that was Rh, and not her father. When I asked her if she missed her father, she nodded.
Today, when she woke up from her nap, she came down to the kitchen to me, and the first thing she asked was,
"Is Abi home yet?"
When she knew that hubby was not going to be home until later tonight, inshaallah.
As for the other two, they denied missing hubby, as expected. H just said,
"I want to see if he got a medal for the swimming."
With a stretched ligament, their father placed fourth in the swimming event. Upon hearing the news from Sh, I exclaimed,
"All the other swimmers must be so bad!"
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Pizza! Pizza! Bellisimo!
This morning, after Fajr, N memorized a new du'a.
"I want a short one," she said, so I looked for a short one, and found them:
What to say when something pleases you,
Al7amdulillahi lathzee bi ni'matihi tatimmu assaali7aat
and what to say when something displeases you,
Al7amdulillah 'alaa kulli 7haal
As review, I presented scenarios to her, (made up ones) and she would respond appropriately.
"What if you get money?
"What if .."
"I have to feed Z," she intercepted (as something that would displease her)
At one point I said to her,
"What if suddenly you get pizza?"
And somehow later on during the day, H told me that hubby said he is going to eat pizza at the Midwest Games, and H added,
"Can we go?"
That's how much pizza we don't get to eat at home. So I told him that we can make our own, dough and everything.
We all took our naps after Zuhr, and I happened to fall asleep later than that because Baby Z was not that sleepy, and romped about the bed while I shielded myself with a pillow. So when the kids woke up, I was still sleeping. When my eyes fluttered open, I thought to myself,
"What is this smell, it's like something's in the oven. They can't be making pizza. They don't have the recipe. I'm too sleepy, I'll just tell them to make it some other time. We don't even know if we have pizza sauce,"
and I went back to sleep, the smell of 'something in the oven' still lingering in the house.
When I did wake up for good, N came in the room and told me that they had made pizza and even eaten it for dinner.
"All of it? Where'd you get the recipe? The cheese? Who grated it? Did you find Pizza sauce? You already ate it? You made it all on your own?"
Suffice it to say I was in complete disbelief. When I went downstairs, there was the pizza, half eaten, and looking perfect! Mashaallah!
Apparently, they had googled the recipe from the Internet, and forgoed mine. They grated the cheese themselves, found the pizza sauce in the can, made the dough, shaped it, lathered the sauce and topped it, baked it, ate it, all without burning the house down! Alhamdulillah!
N said, that H said,
"Ummi didn't even have to check if we're burning the house down!"
The impressive thing is, they even cleaned up after themselves, and did the dishes!
What a pity I can't take a bite, due to Baby Z's wheat and dairy allergy. But otherwise, I commended their work, very well done, mashaallah! It reminds me of my lovely sister-rellas cleaning my house from top to bottom while I was napping during my pregnancy with Baby Z. When I woke up, the sister-rellas were all gone, and all I got was a love note from them. Ahhh...such lovely sisters! I will never forget that.
So now...I have to be careful what I tell the kids they can make. I might be in for another surprise, provided they don't burn the house down.
Al7amdulillahi lathzee bini'matihi tatimmu as saali7aat.
"I want a short one," she said, so I looked for a short one, and found them:
What to say when something pleases you,
Al7amdulillahi lathzee bi ni'matihi tatimmu assaali7aat
and what to say when something displeases you,
Al7amdulillah 'alaa kulli 7haal
As review, I presented scenarios to her, (made up ones) and she would respond appropriately.
"What if you get money?
"What if .."
"I have to feed Z," she intercepted (as something that would displease her)
At one point I said to her,
"What if suddenly you get pizza?"
And somehow later on during the day, H told me that hubby said he is going to eat pizza at the Midwest Games, and H added,
"Can we go?"
That's how much pizza we don't get to eat at home. So I told him that we can make our own, dough and everything.
We all took our naps after Zuhr, and I happened to fall asleep later than that because Baby Z was not that sleepy, and romped about the bed while I shielded myself with a pillow. So when the kids woke up, I was still sleeping. When my eyes fluttered open, I thought to myself,
"What is this smell, it's like something's in the oven. They can't be making pizza. They don't have the recipe. I'm too sleepy, I'll just tell them to make it some other time. We don't even know if we have pizza sauce,"
and I went back to sleep, the smell of 'something in the oven' still lingering in the house.
When I did wake up for good, N came in the room and told me that they had made pizza and even eaten it for dinner.
"All of it? Where'd you get the recipe? The cheese? Who grated it? Did you find Pizza sauce? You already ate it? You made it all on your own?"
Suffice it to say I was in complete disbelief. When I went downstairs, there was the pizza, half eaten, and looking perfect! Mashaallah!
Apparently, they had googled the recipe from the Internet, and forgoed mine. They grated the cheese themselves, found the pizza sauce in the can, made the dough, shaped it, lathered the sauce and topped it, baked it, ate it, all without burning the house down! Alhamdulillah!
N said, that H said,
"Ummi didn't even have to check if we're burning the house down!"
The impressive thing is, they even cleaned up after themselves, and did the dishes!
What a pity I can't take a bite, due to Baby Z's wheat and dairy allergy. But otherwise, I commended their work, very well done, mashaallah! It reminds me of my lovely sister-rellas cleaning my house from top to bottom while I was napping during my pregnancy with Baby Z. When I woke up, the sister-rellas were all gone, and all I got was a love note from them. Ahhh...such lovely sisters! I will never forget that.
So now...I have to be careful what I tell the kids they can make. I might be in for another surprise, provided they don't burn the house down.
Al7amdulillahi lathzee bini'matihi tatimmu as saali7aat.
Correction to the previous post
Jazakillah khair Anis for making me read it again. I noticed a needed correction on my part. Here it is:
The fatwa says prizes for competition is not allowed in anything except archery, swimming, camel and horse races, because they are for the purposes of jihad.
Here is the ruling that I did not link to, it's pertaining to the permissibility of playing soccer. Allahu Aalim.
_________________________________________
Alhamdulillah though, I do not think hubby and H (inshaaallah) are doing all the haram things, but my reservations about the Midwest Games have more to do with the occasion itself. And just to make it clear, we are in no position to say something is haram or halal blatantly, for this is actually hanging a huge responsibility on our necks, astaghfirulah if I did or conveyed that in any way. I was just reading from Tafsir Ibn kathir to the kids after Maghrib from Surah Al A'raaf, from ayah 31-34.
This chunk talks about Allah refuting what the Arabs said concerning making tawaf around the Kaabah naked. They claimed that Allah commanded them to do so, whereas Allah commanded us to wear the adornments He had created for us, Libas(covering the necessary areas) and Rish(extra for adornment).
I think, with regards to the soccer mentioned above, it refers to those who are fanatic about it. There is also one ruling where the scholar said to assess how much time we are devoting to it, compared to everything else. Allaahu Aalim.
The fatwa says prizes for competition is not allowed in anything except archery, swimming, camel and horse races, because they are for the purposes of jihad.
Here is the ruling that I did not link to, it's pertaining to the permissibility of playing soccer. Allahu Aalim.
_________________________________________
Playing soccer is permissible subject to certain conditions.
1 – That it should not be for money, whether it is paid by the two teams, one of them or by a third party, because it is not permissible to give prizes except for competitions which help prepare one for jihad, because the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said: “There should be no (money) prizes for competitions except archery competitions and races with camels and horses.” Narrated by al-Tirmidhi (1700), al-Nasaa’i (3585), Abu Dawood (2575) and Ibn Maajah (2878); classed as saheeh by al-Albaani in Saheeh Abi Dawood.
Some scholars added to these three anything that helps in jihad and propagating Islam, such as competitions in knowledge of Qur’aan, hadeeth and fiqh, in which is permissible to offer prizes.
Therefore it is not permissible to give or take the prizes that are given to those who win soccer matches and tournaments between two or more teams, and they come under the heading of forbidden betting.
2 – The game should not be accompanied by anything haraam, such as uncovering the ‘awrah. The man’s ‘awrah is the area from the navel to the knee, and it is well known that most of those who play this game uncover their thighs, but this is haraam and is not permitted.
3 – The game should not lead to anything that is haraam, such as missing prayers, or missing Jumu’ah prayer or prayers in congregation. Unfortunately we say that many of those who play this game in clubs miss the prayers because of the matches. It is well known that delaying the prayer beyond its time with no excuse is a major sin, and it is narrated from a number of scholars that the one who does that deliberately is a kaafir, so we must be very careful.
This has to do with the game itself. But if there are tournaments on which money is spent and people are distracted by them, and waste time because of them, and they provoke factionalism and both Muslims and kaafirs, righteous and evildoers are glorified to the extent that a player becomes a role model for one’s sons and daughters, then this definitely should not be allowed, because among the ummah there are enough calamities, ignorance and backwardness to distract them from games on which millions of the people’s wealth are spent.
Shaykh Muhammad ibn Ibraaheem (may Allaah have mercy on him) said: The basic principle concerning such games and sports is that they are permissible if they serve an innocent purpose, as was referred to by Ibn al-Qayyim in his book al-Faroosiyyah and as was mentioned by Shaykh Taqiy al-Deen Ibn Taymiyah and others. If that is done as training for jihad and attack and retreat, or for physical fitness, or to ward off chronic diseases and strengthen the spirit, then it comes under the heading of permissible things, if the one who does it has a sound intention. In all cases it is essential that there be no harm caused to bodies or minds, and that it does not lead to the grudges and hatred that usually occur between players, and that it does not distract them from things that are more important, and that it does not prevent them from remembrance of Allaah (dhikr) or prayer.
But whoever thinks about these sports as they are played nowadays will find that they are involve evil things which dictate that they should be disallowed, in addition to the fact that it is in the nature of the game to create factionalism and stir up resentment and hatred between the victors and the losers, this team and that team, as is quite apparent. They are also accompanied by physical danger for the players as the result of collisions and fisticuffs. Games hardly ever end without one of them breaking a bone or being injured or losing consciousness. This is why ambulances are always present.
The games also continue during the times of prayer, which results in people not praying or offering the prayer late.
The players also uncover their ‘awrah, which is forbidden. The man’s ‘awrah is the area from the navel to the knee. But you will find that their clothes end at mid-thigh, and some of them are shorter than that. It is well known that the thigh is part of the ‘awrah because of the hadeeth: “Cover your thigh for the thigh is part of the ‘awrah.” Narrated by al-Tirmidhi (2797) and classed as saheeh by al-Albaani. And the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said to ‘Ali: “Do not uncover your thigh and do not look at the thigh of anyone, living or dead.” Narrated by Abu Dawood (4015). And Allaah knows best.
End quote from Fataawa al-Shaykh Muhammad ibn Ibraaheem, vol. 8, question no. 1948.
And he (may Allaah have mercy on him) said:
Playing football nowadays is accompanied by reprehensible things which mean that playing it should be disallowed. These things may be summed up as follows:
1 – It is proven to us that play continues during the times of prayer, which results in the players and spectators missing prayers or prayers in congregation, or they delay performing prayers until the time for them is over. Undoubtedly any action that interferes with performance of prayers on time or leads to missing prayers in congregation with no valid shar’i excuse is haraam.
2 – The nature of this game leads to factionalism, stirring up fitnah and hatred. These results are the opposite of what Islam promotes of tolerance, friendship and brotherhood, and cleaning hearts and souls of hatred, resentment and grudges.
3 – The game involves physical danger for the players as a result of collisions and injuries. Usually the players do not end the game without some of them falling on the pitch unconscious or with broken arms or legs. Nothing is more indicative of that than the fact that there must always be an ambulance present throughout the game.
4 – The purpose behind allowing sports is to make people become physically active and to train them for fighting and to ward off chronic disease. But playing football nowadays has no such aim. As well as the things mentioned above, it is now also taking people’s money for false purposes, let alone the danger of physical injury and the generation of hatred in the hearts of players and spectators, and the stirring up of fitnah. It has even gone so far that some spectators attack some players, which could go as far as murder, as happened in a match a few months ago. This alone is sufficient reason to disallow it. And Allaah is the source of strength. End quote.
He also said:
If it is done in an organized manner [as in the clubs] it seems that it should be banned altogether, because people becomes deeply involved in it and that prevents people from remembering Allaah, and it more akin to gambling. They call it “sport” but it is just a game, and matters of jihad are not like this, and even if the players have some agility and nimbleness, they are not able to strive hard in any other field.
It also involves other things. Some of them offer prizes for it, and this is gambling. Islam does not allow prizes for anything except competitions which support the religion and strengthen one for that. If it strengthens Islam then it is permissible to engage in competitions. In the hadeeth it says: “There should be no (money) prizes for competitions except archery competitions and races with camels and horses.” And this applies by analogy with these three to anything that supports Islam. End quote. Question no. 1950.
He also said: As for one or two people playing with a ball in an unorganized fashion, there is nothing wrong with that, because it does not involve anything haraam. And Allaah knows best. End quote. Question no. 1949.
_________________________________Alhamdulillah though, I do not think hubby and H (inshaaallah) are doing all the haram things, but my reservations about the Midwest Games have more to do with the occasion itself. And just to make it clear, we are in no position to say something is haram or halal blatantly, for this is actually hanging a huge responsibility on our necks, astaghfirulah if I did or conveyed that in any way. I was just reading from Tafsir Ibn kathir to the kids after Maghrib from Surah Al A'raaf, from ayah 31-34.
 |
| 31: |
| Muhsin Khan: O Children of Adam! Take your adornment (by wearing your clean clothes), while praying and going round (the Tawaf of ) the Ka'bah, and eat and drink but waste not by extravagance, certainly He (Allah) likes not Al-Musrifun (those who waste by extravagance). |
 |
| 32: |
| Muhsin Khan: Say (O Muhammad SAW): "Who has forbidden the adoration with clothes given by Allah, which He has produced for his slaves, and At-Taiyibat [all kinds of Halal (lawful) things] of food?" Say: "They are, in the life of this world, for those who believe, (and) exclusively for them (believers) on the Day of Resurrection (the disbelievers will not share them)." Thus We explain the Ayat (Islamic laws) in detail for people who have knowledge. |
 |
| 33: |
| Muhsin Khan: Say (O Muhammad SAW): "(But) the things that my Lord has indeed forbidden are AlFawahish (great evil sins, every kind of unlawful sexual intercourse, etc.) whether committed openly or secretly, sins (of all kinds), unrighteous oppression, joining partners (in worship) with Allah for which He has given no authority, and saying things about Allah of which you have no knowledge." |
I think, with regards to the soccer mentioned above, it refers to those who are fanatic about it. There is also one ruling where the scholar said to assess how much time we are devoting to it, compared to everything else. Allaahu Aalim.
To Go or Not To Go?
That is the question.
Hubby still wants to go to the Midwest Games. I don't want to, for many reasons, but my reasons are strengthened especially after reading the ruling about playing soccer and games in general.
The kids want to go, but I told them yesterday,
"These are my reasons:
1. The fatwa says competition is not allowed in anything except archery, swimming, camel and horse races, because they are for the purposes of jihad.
2. Will the trip be blessed then if we go, considering the nature of the Midwest Games.
3. Abi cannot even go to the masjid anymore with his crutches but he wants to go the 7 hour drive there
4. If the trip is not blessed, I don't want you kids involved
5. If we go, since Abi can't do anything, I have to do everything."
We agreed that if hubby still wants to go he can go by himself, without us. I prayed istikharah yesterday, and the kids know this.
Even though they badly want to go, when I explained my reasons, they agreed.
Hubby then mentioned his reason, and my suspicion was confirmed; he wants to go because he wants to participate, and the kids know this too. The only reason I agreed to go in the first place was because it would give us a chance to listen to the audio lectures in that long trip, and we would get somewhat of a 'vacation' on the side. However, it does not seem beneficial to me anymore, especially after reading that ruling, which actually leaves my heart at an unease since H has been in the soccer league for a few years now.
Alhamdulillah ala kulli haal indeed. If it wasn't for this, I wouldn't have been pressed to seek it out in the first place. Thanks finie.
So, to go or not to go? If it is good for me, Allah will bless it and facilitate it, if not, Allah will remove it from me. Oh Allah please give us guidance. Oh Allah please give me patience and wisdom to handle this. Ameen.
Hubby still wants to go to the Midwest Games. I don't want to, for many reasons, but my reasons are strengthened especially after reading the ruling about playing soccer and games in general.
The kids want to go, but I told them yesterday,
"These are my reasons:
1. The fatwa says competition is not allowed in anything except archery, swimming, camel and horse races, because they are for the purposes of jihad.
2. Will the trip be blessed then if we go, considering the nature of the Midwest Games.
3. Abi cannot even go to the masjid anymore with his crutches but he wants to go the 7 hour drive there
4. If the trip is not blessed, I don't want you kids involved
5. If we go, since Abi can't do anything, I have to do everything."
We agreed that if hubby still wants to go he can go by himself, without us. I prayed istikharah yesterday, and the kids know this.
Even though they badly want to go, when I explained my reasons, they agreed.
Hubby then mentioned his reason, and my suspicion was confirmed; he wants to go because he wants to participate, and the kids know this too. The only reason I agreed to go in the first place was because it would give us a chance to listen to the audio lectures in that long trip, and we would get somewhat of a 'vacation' on the side. However, it does not seem beneficial to me anymore, especially after reading that ruling, which actually leaves my heart at an unease since H has been in the soccer league for a few years now.
Alhamdulillah ala kulli haal indeed. If it wasn't for this, I wouldn't have been pressed to seek it out in the first place. Thanks finie.
So, to go or not to go? If it is good for me, Allah will bless it and facilitate it, if not, Allah will remove it from me. Oh Allah please give us guidance. Oh Allah please give me patience and wisdom to handle this. Ameen.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Will we get to keep the crutches?
Saturday, May 17, around 6 p.m., I was lounging in the living room, reading, when I noticed a burly man with shaggy blond hair parking his car right in front of our apartment. I peeked in through the lacy curtains, and heard him say,
"F," and my ears perked up. He was mentioning hubby's name.
Few seconds later, hubby appeared from the passenger seat, one leg bent, and limping.
I thought to myself, "Oh no! What happened?! It must be bad because hubby is not one to need help such as that with simple sprains. This must be bad!"
Well, I urged him to go to the ER, against his soccer buddies' advice.
"Just go on Monday. You'll be waiting for hours if you go today," they said.
My motherly instinct was appalled at the advice, and hubby, being a man, of course agreed with his buddies. I insisted on at least calling a doctor or the ER to ask if he needs to go or what to do and how to take care of his leg.
"Yes, sir, yes!" was the reply of the ER nurse, when he called and asked if he should go.
It turned out he has a stretched ligament. We were actually thinking it must be a torn ligament. We were expecting the worst, with surgery, so alhamdulillah, it was a stretched ligament, though they skipped the X-ray because a trauma just came in, so hubby's case became low priority.
Hubby came back with a knee brace, and silver metal crutches, which I didn't see until much later, because it was maghrib when he came home and we were busy getting ready to pray.
So, our tennis Sundays are no more. We stayed home the whole day yesterday.
The kids were pretty awed I suppose by all that happened. When hubby was at he ER, Sh called me to update me on hubby's condition, since T had driven hubby to the ER. It was then that I found outhe had a stretched ligament. I told the kids. Naturally, we went a-googling.
ACL, PCL, LCL, MCL, we got it down to a pat, at least H did, and when hubby came home with home care instructions that also included an explanation of the injuries, the terms referring to the four ligaments above were already familiar to H, as I heard him state with utmost confidence,
"Oh yeah, I saw that!"
Before hubby came home, we talked about hubby's future with soccer.
"Abi can't ride the bike? Then I can't go to the masjid with the bike anymore."
"Are you sad if Abi can't play soccer anymore?" I asked H.
"Yes, because then he can't practice with me anymore."
I also expressed my disdain at hubby's involvement in soccer, that after a certain point becomes a burden to me. H said to me,
"You say that because you never played soccer. It's fun."
He's right. Maybe I've never been able to put myself in hubby's shoes. They're too big.
H, as is typical of any boy his age, bombards hubby with his questions.
"Will we get to keep it after you're done with it?" referring to the crutches.
"Will we get to play with knee brace too?"
H probably thinks all this is 'cool'.
The only thing I feel sorry for the kids for is that we most probably have to forgo our planned trip to Southern Illinois University for the Malaysian Midwest games since hubby is in no shape to drive a 7-hour journey with his crutches, and I'm not going to drive, no thank you! We had already bought blank papers for them to use on the trip, and they had already created their own handmade 'notebooks' using those papers.
I told them last night,
"Maybe if we go, something bad will happen to us, and so that is why this happened. Allah is saving us from a worse thing."
To which hubby added,
"Your mom doesn't want me to play soccer next week. Allah loves her so much that..."
and I burst out laughing. I did tell him not to play soccer next week if he could help it because I had two articles to submit by this weekend, and I was also studying for an exam that alhamdulillah I took last weekend. Hubby had been sneaking out to play soccer day after day, which I personally think is going overboard, and let's just say, it felt like Iowa all over again to me.
Well, it seems like, now, he's not going anywhere, for a while, and in the meantime, I'm going to have to bear a lot more manual labor which hubby used to take care of. Alhamdulillah ala kulli hal. Maybe I'll lose more weight this way.
"F," and my ears perked up. He was mentioning hubby's name.
Few seconds later, hubby appeared from the passenger seat, one leg bent, and limping.
I thought to myself, "Oh no! What happened?! It must be bad because hubby is not one to need help such as that with simple sprains. This must be bad!"
Well, I urged him to go to the ER, against his soccer buddies' advice.
"Just go on Monday. You'll be waiting for hours if you go today," they said.
My motherly instinct was appalled at the advice, and hubby, being a man, of course agreed with his buddies. I insisted on at least calling a doctor or the ER to ask if he needs to go or what to do and how to take care of his leg.
"Yes, sir, yes!" was the reply of the ER nurse, when he called and asked if he should go.
It turned out he has a stretched ligament. We were actually thinking it must be a torn ligament. We were expecting the worst, with surgery, so alhamdulillah, it was a stretched ligament, though they skipped the X-ray because a trauma just came in, so hubby's case became low priority.
Hubby came back with a knee brace, and silver metal crutches, which I didn't see until much later, because it was maghrib when he came home and we were busy getting ready to pray.
So, our tennis Sundays are no more. We stayed home the whole day yesterday.
The kids were pretty awed I suppose by all that happened. When hubby was at he ER, Sh called me to update me on hubby's condition, since T had driven hubby to the ER. It was then that I found outhe had a stretched ligament. I told the kids. Naturally, we went a-googling.
ACL, PCL, LCL, MCL, we got it down to a pat, at least H did, and when hubby came home with home care instructions that also included an explanation of the injuries, the terms referring to the four ligaments above were already familiar to H, as I heard him state with utmost confidence,
"Oh yeah, I saw that!"
Before hubby came home, we talked about hubby's future with soccer.
"Abi can't ride the bike? Then I can't go to the masjid with the bike anymore."
"Are you sad if Abi can't play soccer anymore?" I asked H.
"Yes, because then he can't practice with me anymore."
I also expressed my disdain at hubby's involvement in soccer, that after a certain point becomes a burden to me. H said to me,
"You say that because you never played soccer. It's fun."
He's right. Maybe I've never been able to put myself in hubby's shoes. They're too big.
H, as is typical of any boy his age, bombards hubby with his questions.
"Will we get to keep it after you're done with it?" referring to the crutches.
"Will we get to play with knee brace too?"
H probably thinks all this is 'cool'.
The only thing I feel sorry for the kids for is that we most probably have to forgo our planned trip to Southern Illinois University for the Malaysian Midwest games since hubby is in no shape to drive a 7-hour journey with his crutches, and I'm not going to drive, no thank you! We had already bought blank papers for them to use on the trip, and they had already created their own handmade 'notebooks' using those papers.
I told them last night,
"Maybe if we go, something bad will happen to us, and so that is why this happened. Allah is saving us from a worse thing."
To which hubby added,
"Your mom doesn't want me to play soccer next week. Allah loves her so much that..."
and I burst out laughing. I did tell him not to play soccer next week if he could help it because I had two articles to submit by this weekend, and I was also studying for an exam that alhamdulillah I took last weekend. Hubby had been sneaking out to play soccer day after day, which I personally think is going overboard, and let's just say, it felt like Iowa all over again to me.
Well, it seems like, now, he's not going anywhere, for a while, and in the meantime, I'm going to have to bear a lot more manual labor which hubby used to take care of. Alhamdulillah ala kulli hal. Maybe I'll lose more weight this way.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Bubbles in the Air!
Here I am, busy putting clocks on my blog. Baby Z is napping, I'm supposed to be studying, the kids are all downstairs up to something.
I trust them enough not to wonder what they're doing and continually ask,
"What are you guys up to now?"
Since we went to the library yesterday, they got more books, and for the time being are occupied enough not to play games on the computer.
"If we have books to read, we won't be playing games," S reasoned.
These past few days they have been spending a lot of time on the computer, playing games, much to hubby's and my consternation. Alhamdulillah though, they only go to the permitted websites.
Yesterday, we babysat a neighbor's son, because their newborn is in NICU (May Allah heal the baby. Ameen). He brought his own CD Arthur game, and we let him play it on the computer downstairs while we prayed Maghrib and Isha upstairs. At one point he asked H to go to Cartoon Network website, and I only knew because H said to him,
"We're not allowed."
I was there, and curious about the exchange that just happened, which I didn't really hear, I asked H,
"What's not allowed?"
"Cartoon Network."
Alhamdulillah. Alhamdulillah. The child knows, and abides by it, mashaallah.
Today, just now, H came upstairs, and I excitedly showed him my new clocks on the blog. After peering at the screen for a few measly seconds, uttering a mild "Oh," he exclaimed,
"Ummi, we made bubbles. You wanna see it?"
"With what?" I asked.
"With Ajax."
They're playing with my dishwashing liquid. Hey!
"Yeah, sure," I replied.
He bounded downstairs and came back in a flash with a yellow plastic bowl filled with the buble solution, and a twist tie formed into a bubble blower ring. Dipping the bubble blower into the solution, he then proceeded to blow huge firm bubbles in the room.
"They're so firm too! They don't break, they even bounce on the floor!" he expressed with enthusiasm.
"Mashaallah!"
Apparently, N had started making bubbles, and they had tried it first with the handsoap, but it dodn't really work.
"Hmm..why do you think it didn't work that well?" I asked H.
"Hmm..maybe it was too creamy..Oh yeah! it's too creamy," he concluded.
"Hmm, hey maybe you can test other soaps, and write down your results and compare which soap makes the best bubbles!" I was overcome with excitement as well.
"Yeah, that' like Zoom," he said.
"And you have your hypotheses, your materials, experiments, and then you can write down your results! Get a notebook," I suggested.
Within a few minutes, we I'm typing, H is busy with blue, red plastic bowls, a measuring spoon to measure the amount of soap, and the soaps he's testing.
Ahh...another unschooling moment. Hubby, take note.
I trust them enough not to wonder what they're doing and continually ask,
"What are you guys up to now?"
Since we went to the library yesterday, they got more books, and for the time being are occupied enough not to play games on the computer.
"If we have books to read, we won't be playing games," S reasoned.
These past few days they have been spending a lot of time on the computer, playing games, much to hubby's and my consternation. Alhamdulillah though, they only go to the permitted websites.
Yesterday, we babysat a neighbor's son, because their newborn is in NICU (May Allah heal the baby. Ameen). He brought his own CD Arthur game, and we let him play it on the computer downstairs while we prayed Maghrib and Isha upstairs. At one point he asked H to go to Cartoon Network website, and I only knew because H said to him,
"We're not allowed."
I was there, and curious about the exchange that just happened, which I didn't really hear, I asked H,
"What's not allowed?"
"Cartoon Network."
Alhamdulillah. Alhamdulillah. The child knows, and abides by it, mashaallah.
Today, just now, H came upstairs, and I excitedly showed him my new clocks on the blog. After peering at the screen for a few measly seconds, uttering a mild "Oh," he exclaimed,
"Ummi, we made bubbles. You wanna see it?"
"With what?" I asked.
"With Ajax."
They're playing with my dishwashing liquid. Hey!
"Yeah, sure," I replied.
He bounded downstairs and came back in a flash with a yellow plastic bowl filled with the buble solution, and a twist tie formed into a bubble blower ring. Dipping the bubble blower into the solution, he then proceeded to blow huge firm bubbles in the room.
"They're so firm too! They don't break, they even bounce on the floor!" he expressed with enthusiasm.
"Mashaallah!"
Apparently, N had started making bubbles, and they had tried it first with the handsoap, but it dodn't really work.
"Hmm..why do you think it didn't work that well?" I asked H.
"Hmm..maybe it was too creamy..Oh yeah! it's too creamy," he concluded.
"Hmm, hey maybe you can test other soaps, and write down your results and compare which soap makes the best bubbles!" I was overcome with excitement as well.
"Yeah, that' like Zoom," he said.
"And you have your hypotheses, your materials, experiments, and then you can write down your results! Get a notebook," I suggested.
Within a few minutes, we I'm typing, H is busy with blue, red plastic bowls, a measuring spoon to measure the amount of soap, and the soaps he's testing.
Ahh...another unschooling moment. Hubby, take note.
Iman
"Why doesn't N read the Quran?"
S asked this morning, right after she was done reading the Quran with hubby. I was slumped against the bookshelf, still in my prayer garment, and N was prostrate with sleepiness on the floor.
I snapped.
"S, don't be like that. It's not a good trait to have. If you read the Quran you get reward from Allah. It's not a punishment. If N doesn't read it, she's the one who's losing. If you want her to read it because you want her to get the reward too, it's very good, but the way you keep asking is as if you read it, then everyone else has to read it too."
Believing in the ghaib. That's probably what's lacking. At this age, maybe they don't appreciate the fact that everytime they do a good deed, they get oodles of points, or maybe they should, and if they should, then it's me who is lacking in my responsibility of teaching them. (Now we know the solution, don't we? Sigh)
Baby Z has been on a biting rampage ever since he attained four pearly whites, and I have been the one suffering as a result. I don't remember being bitten so much with H, or the girls. On top of biting when he's done nursing, which is usually not done on purpose, he also buries his face in my lap and starts biting whatever flesh he can get between his top and bottom incisors. However, that doesn't bother me as much as him biting his source of milk.
My doctor's words kept playing in my head,
"I stopped nursing mine at 13 months because I was tired of being bitten. You don't have to feel like you have to breastfeed him longer you know."
Hubby was not too happy with that piece of unsolicited advice.
As I lay on my side, nursing him one day, I thought to myself,
"I have less than a year to go inshaallah. Oh Allah, please make him one of the righteous who will benefit the ummah."
Belief in the ghaib. That's what keeps us going.
S asked this morning, right after she was done reading the Quran with hubby. I was slumped against the bookshelf, still in my prayer garment, and N was prostrate with sleepiness on the floor.
I snapped.
"S, don't be like that. It's not a good trait to have. If you read the Quran you get reward from Allah. It's not a punishment. If N doesn't read it, she's the one who's losing. If you want her to read it because you want her to get the reward too, it's very good, but the way you keep asking is as if you read it, then everyone else has to read it too."
Believing in the ghaib. That's probably what's lacking. At this age, maybe they don't appreciate the fact that everytime they do a good deed, they get oodles of points, or maybe they should, and if they should, then it's me who is lacking in my responsibility of teaching them. (Now we know the solution, don't we? Sigh)
Baby Z has been on a biting rampage ever since he attained four pearly whites, and I have been the one suffering as a result. I don't remember being bitten so much with H, or the girls. On top of biting when he's done nursing, which is usually not done on purpose, he also buries his face in my lap and starts biting whatever flesh he can get between his top and bottom incisors. However, that doesn't bother me as much as him biting his source of milk.
My doctor's words kept playing in my head,
"I stopped nursing mine at 13 months because I was tired of being bitten. You don't have to feel like you have to breastfeed him longer you know."
Hubby was not too happy with that piece of unsolicited advice.
As I lay on my side, nursing him one day, I thought to myself,
"I have less than a year to go inshaallah. Oh Allah, please make him one of the righteous who will benefit the ummah."
Belief in the ghaib. That's what keeps us going.
The Struggle
"Why doesn't N read the Quran?"
I've been skimping on sleep lately, as I have to finish writing up two articles with a deadline, and am studying for the Chain of Command exam I am retaking, so I was horrendously groggy this morning after Fajr.
I had the kids take a Learning Style assessment from the book 'Discover Your Child's Learning Style', and for the question,
At what time of the day are you most tired , all the kids answered After Fajr.
This is no surprise to me, as I 've seen their grogginess, and I can attribute it to lack of sleep. Since the days are longer, and they all pray Fajr and Isha', they only have about 7 hours of sleep each night. We have them take napes nowadays because of that, but their naps only add about 2 hours to their total horus of sleep, which I believe is still not enough for children their age.
I asked N when she wants to read her Quran and do her surah memorization.
"After Fajr," she replied, with regards to the Quran.
"Are you sure?" I asked, recalling that she had answered 'After fajr' as her most unenergetic time of the day.
She nodded.
So for her, how is my complete responsibility now with regards to Quran, we settled on post Fajr and post Zuhr for her quran and memorization respectively. Hubby handles the other two, alhamdulillah.
Yesterday, she was so groggy, and wasn't cooperating much when reading her quran. Since I myself have been lacking sleep too, my patience wasn't exactly fully recharged, and I snapped. Thinking it wise to change the time and forgo all the snapping and misery in the early mornings, I told her,
"We have to change the time. You're not strong enough to fight the grogginess. If we keep this up, I'm just going to be angry and you're going to be miserable."
So, we are now moving it to after Asr. If we for some reason (which are many, such as... anything to do with Baby Z) can't do it after Asr, we will do it after Maghrib.
It has really been quite a struggle for both N and me. I need more practice in patience. I had 11 years, and I'm not quite sure if my patience level have increased in all those years. Patience with hubby, maybe. Patience with kids, I'm not so sure.
I've been skimping on sleep lately, as I have to finish writing up two articles with a deadline, and am studying for the Chain of Command exam I am retaking, so I was horrendously groggy this morning after Fajr.
I had the kids take a Learning Style assessment from the book 'Discover Your Child's Learning Style', and for the question,
At what time of the day are you most tired , all the kids answered After Fajr.
This is no surprise to me, as I 've seen their grogginess, and I can attribute it to lack of sleep. Since the days are longer, and they all pray Fajr and Isha', they only have about 7 hours of sleep each night. We have them take napes nowadays because of that, but their naps only add about 2 hours to their total horus of sleep, which I believe is still not enough for children their age.
I asked N when she wants to read her Quran and do her surah memorization.
"After Fajr," she replied, with regards to the Quran.
"Are you sure?" I asked, recalling that she had answered 'After fajr' as her most unenergetic time of the day.
She nodded.
So for her, how is my complete responsibility now with regards to Quran, we settled on post Fajr and post Zuhr for her quran and memorization respectively. Hubby handles the other two, alhamdulillah.
Yesterday, she was so groggy, and wasn't cooperating much when reading her quran. Since I myself have been lacking sleep too, my patience wasn't exactly fully recharged, and I snapped. Thinking it wise to change the time and forgo all the snapping and misery in the early mornings, I told her,
"We have to change the time. You're not strong enough to fight the grogginess. If we keep this up, I'm just going to be angry and you're going to be miserable."
So, we are now moving it to after Asr. If we for some reason (which are many, such as... anything to do with Baby Z) can't do it after Asr, we will do it after Maghrib.
It has really been quite a struggle for both N and me. I need more practice in patience. I had 11 years, and I'm not quite sure if my patience level have increased in all those years. Patience with hubby, maybe. Patience with kids, I'm not so sure.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Monday Night LIVE!
Baby Z has been depriving hubby and me of sleep these past few days. Since he still sleeps with us, his night wakings are not unusual, and thinking of logistics and the possibility of moving, I'm not that eager to change this habit of his. The other three pretty much stopped waking up at night after one year, and I separated them from us when they were past one year old. With Baby Z, however, we don't even have enough space in the house to even attempt to separate him.
Last night, as I nursed him lying down, I felt wetness on his back, and to my groggy dismay, I found that his diaper was full and beyond. I woke hubby up, and he changed Baby Z's diaper, which was almost like a mini bath, since he soiled himself pretty much. Baby Z was already sleeping before hubby carried him to the bathroom, but after the wash, Baby Z was as fresh as the morning dews.
I looked at the clock on the wall. It was 2 a.m. I nursed him, after which he sat up and began to babble, flapping his arm up and down in excitement. Suffice it to say, it was a long night for hubby and me.
Baby Z crawled to and fro from one end of the bed to the other, giving us heart attacks lest he fell. I couldn't help but fall asleep, to be awoken by his super hyper screams of playfulness and being stepped on. He was 'knocking' on the wall behind us when I looked up and realized that the night light had cast a shadow, and he was playing with that shadow.
Truth be told, the thought of jinn possession crossed my mind. Baby Z is a pretty quiet and mild mannered baby. To hear him so animated and loud at such an hour was perplexing. After about an hour or so of romping and frolicking on the bed, hubby and me being part of his night playground paraphernalia, Baby Z threw himself on the pillow I had on my chest (for protection, because he was using my chest as a base to do push ups) and cried a little. Suddenly, all was still. I lifted my head to look at him, strewn across my tummy, facing my feet. He was falling asleep. I coaxed him to come and lie down next to me. Resuming his cries, he did finally make his way to my head and threw himself on the pillow next to me. He must have really exhausted all energy, romping about the bed, because from there on, he fell asleep all the way till morning.
As for hubby and me, we resumed sleeping after Fajr this morning. Thanks a lot Baby Z!
Last night, as I nursed him lying down, I felt wetness on his back, and to my groggy dismay, I found that his diaper was full and beyond. I woke hubby up, and he changed Baby Z's diaper, which was almost like a mini bath, since he soiled himself pretty much. Baby Z was already sleeping before hubby carried him to the bathroom, but after the wash, Baby Z was as fresh as the morning dews.
I looked at the clock on the wall. It was 2 a.m. I nursed him, after which he sat up and began to babble, flapping his arm up and down in excitement. Suffice it to say, it was a long night for hubby and me.
Baby Z crawled to and fro from one end of the bed to the other, giving us heart attacks lest he fell. I couldn't help but fall asleep, to be awoken by his super hyper screams of playfulness and being stepped on. He was 'knocking' on the wall behind us when I looked up and realized that the night light had cast a shadow, and he was playing with that shadow.
Truth be told, the thought of jinn possession crossed my mind. Baby Z is a pretty quiet and mild mannered baby. To hear him so animated and loud at such an hour was perplexing. After about an hour or so of romping and frolicking on the bed, hubby and me being part of his night playground paraphernalia, Baby Z threw himself on the pillow I had on my chest (for protection, because he was using my chest as a base to do push ups) and cried a little. Suddenly, all was still. I lifted my head to look at him, strewn across my tummy, facing my feet. He was falling asleep. I coaxed him to come and lie down next to me. Resuming his cries, he did finally make his way to my head and threw himself on the pillow next to me. He must have really exhausted all energy, romping about the bed, because from there on, he fell asleep all the way till morning.
As for hubby and me, we resumed sleeping after Fajr this morning. Thanks a lot Baby Z!
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