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.

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?

'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!

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.

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...

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

We'll Die Muslims

May 11, 2008, yesterday, Mother's Day. It was a rainy Sunday, and I was quite disappointed not being able to have our usual Tennis Sunday. Hubby went back to sleep, and I bustled in the kitchen.

As hubby was doing the dishes after lunch, the tornado siren went off. I turned to look at the kids, and S's expression was that of bewilderment.

"But it's not Wednesday..." she said, referring to the weekly drill usually on Wednesday noons.

"Turn on the TV! Turn on the TV!"

We turned it on. Thinking back, it's pretty funny how we seem to have gotten out of touch with the television. I found myself fumbling with the remote, not remembering which button was for what.

We saw an area of dark red surrounded by yellow and then green. It was to the north of us though.

The kids huddled around the TV, and H exclaimed,

"Let's take cover!"

"No, we have to pray Zuhr first," I said, seeing that the storm was moving northeast, and we were safely to the southeast of it, alhamdulillah, though of course, a funnel cloud can easily form elsewhere with no warning.

"Make du'a," I said, as they chattered rather excitedly about the prospect of a tornado coming our way.

"We should take our wallets...you know, in case everything else is destroyed," H offered a slice of wisdom. As he said that, he looked around the living room.

"Where should we go?"

"In the office, under the stairs, since we don't have a basement," I said.

"You can go and nap under the stairs," suggested hubby, as after Zuhr is their naptime. We have taken to having them take naps because they wake up for Fajr and stay up till Isha, which are respectively becoming earlier and later as we approach summer.

N readily took her pillow, with an assortment of her cuddly toy cats, and headed for the storage room under the stairs we call the 'office', or what used to be my office.

Alhamdulillah though, even though they kept the siren on for a good while, the storm had moved northeast and away from us, and we napped the afternoon away, biiznillah. I remember saying the du'a for rain earlier in the morning as I nursed baby Z for his morning nap. Subhanallah, the kids had forgotten the du'a for when there is thunderstorm. That should be something we should work on next inshaallah.

Later on in the day, H said to me,

"S had a good dream about tornado. Maybe that means we're gonna die Muslims!"

I couldn't help smiling yet rendered speechless by this analysis of H's. He seemed to at ease with the issue of death, and his pleasure to die as a Muslim was rather refreshing. I'm not sure if he truly understood, but, well, maybe he does, in his own way. Maybe he does, mashaallah.

At night, S said, as she lay in bed, while I tidied up the computer table,

"Today was Mother's Day. Maybe the tornado was because Allah was angry at them."

"For what?" I asked, rummaging in the semi darkness for scattered pens and markers strewn across the table.

"For celebrating Mother's Day," she continued.

Again, I was speechless.

"Erm...I don't know about that," I replied.

This morning, I read this on the news. Allahu Akbar, Alhamdulillah for protecting us from such destruction. I remember the days in Iowa when we would be visited by potential funnel clouds, especially in the summer. I have witnessed hail, which completely left my small flower garden in a beautiful yet destructed state, and alhamdulillah not more.

Bookmark Frenzy!

Thanks to Farhana, we have our next 'community project': bookmark-making, to sell in the Book, Bake & BBQ Fair, with proceeds going to the Islam in Colombia project.

We had bought the card stock months ago, in utter enthusiasm of plunging into the art of bookmark-making! Finally, now that we're done with OHVA, and freer to pursue other learning and activities, we dabbled in the art of making bookmarks.

H's Masjid bookmark, with a message inside

S and N's rocket bookmark

My Lampshade and Balloon, a perfect leftover from making the Tennis Racquet

My lemonade and ice cream bookmarks

S's umbrella, tree, and my baby bottle

My blue abaya and H's READ bookmark

I had a certain picture in my head regarding the kinds of bookmarks we were going to make, but I thought I would dabble with it first, before having the kids make it. So, one afternoon, after Asr, as they all dashed outside, taking Baby Z with them, I took the card stock we had bought, a pencil, an eraser, an arts and crafts knife, and a pair of scissors, and settled on the floor of the kids' room. I had googled my way on the internet, looking for ideas to make novel bookmarks, but found none that are to my liking or satisfaction, so I decided to just let the creativity take me away.

With a silver, black, or grey hijab, this would make a really elegant attire

I was feeling rather whimsical, so the first thing I made was the silver purse. It has been awhile since I had drawn anything, so I was pretty happy with my first bookmark. As I sat there trying to come up with more whimsical ideas for bookmarks, someone barged in through the front door. Of course that was someone bringing Baby Z. My 'freedom' was coming to a close.

"Huh? What's that? That's a bookmark?"

"Yeah, what do you think it is?" I asked, wondering if it even looked like something identifiable.

Well, it only took my that purse to open the gates of other possible ideas, and as the kids came inside one by one, enticed by my bookmarks, I told them to brainstorm for more ideas. The ideas came out gushing, like an opened dam. My next bookmark was a lampshade, and because my hands haven;t been doodling for years, I had to employ N's hand. She drew a lampshade for me, and the difference between hers and mine was so significant, that S said,

"N's lamp is better than yours."

Indeed it is, mashaallah!

Our bookmark-making frenzy lasted for a few fun days, but by the time we were out of energy and patience, we had quite a lot. The ideas were still gushing, but my eye for detail, or rather my tolerance for detailed work was exhausted by the tennis racket. The kids on the other hand, getting a late start, lingered on making woven designs, which are actually rather pretty.

S and N's woven bookmarks

S's intricate woven design

When I came into their room, they were all huddled at the table, head down, fingers busy working with the dwindling card stock we had bought at Jo Ann.

Suffice it to say, it has been a fun endeavor for all of us. Those card stock were really worth buying. Today, I decided that we should start to prepare them for mailing. While the kids were designing and making their bookmarks, I heard comments such as,

"Will people buy this?"

"I don't think anyone will want to buy this!"

"That doesn't look like a bookmark!" they exclaimed, pointing to my cup of mocha bookmark, which I had so much fun making.

Cuppa mocha bookmark

My Sports Bookmark Frenzy (that tennis racquet really required a lot of patience)

I had wanted to make a baju kurung bookmark, after making the blue abaya bookmark, but, like I said, my tolerance for detailed work is spent, and I'm ready to mail in the big envelope of bookmarks now.
Next Project inshaallah : Muslimah Doll Project

A Taste of Jannah - not even close...

H now has soccer practice every Wednesday at 6 p.m. Last Wednesday, the rest of us tagged along. We brought out 'tree hunting' kit comprising of ziploc bags for 'specimens', crayons to make bark rubbings with, ruler, sketch books, index cards, and not to forget, our Eyewitness Tree Field Guide from the library! We also brought along the camera and camcorder, without which, I wouldn't be able to put up these fabulous photos, alhamdulillah!

While hubby and H went to the field, S and N left for the playground, leaving me with Baby Z in the van. I nursed him till he was satisfied, and then we went to join the rest of the family. Baby Z got his subsequent swing experience, and had this solemn expression throughout.


We then decided to go to the duck pond and do some tree hunting, the girls and I, and we wheeled Baby Z along. We happened to have a board book for him and so absorbed was he in his book, that it took quite some time for me to have him look at me, and the surroundings! Too busy counting, I suppose. Wahid, Isnain, Thalaatha....

The girls climbed some trees, while I looked through the field guide.


East Siberian Crap Apple blossoms

Malus Purpurea blossoms

N did some bark rubbings and we collected some flowers to examine, and voila! We pinpointed two trees: the East Siberian Crab Apples tree and the Malus Purpurea! Amazing! Subhanallah!

Malus Purpurea

By the end of it all , it started to drizzle and as hubby honked at us to come in the van, we scrambled in. It was a nice spring evening, alhamdulillah. May we be reunited in Jannah to enjoy splendors that no eyes have seen, no ears have heard, and no tongue has tasted. Ameen. No rushing to go home either...

The Hidden Gifts of the Introverted Child

I was browsing the shelf in the non fiction section of the library when I saw 'The Hidden Gifts of the Introverted Child' on the spine of a book. With my right index finger, I pulled the book out of its resting place by the top part of its spine. With a load of books stuffed in Baby Z's stroller basket, I wheeled him and the books back to the children's section where hubby and the kids were waiting .

I was having problems of demotivation in N, which has been driving me crazy, and that is such an understatement. I knew she was different than the other two. I knew she needed special attention. But I have failed to give her that special attention, time and time again, because of all the hustle and bustle a 'school-at-home' creates, unfortunately. I have been pressured to rush her to finish her lessons, and I think, in a way, it has demotivated her because no matter how fast she does her work, she'll always be slower than the other two.

It's interesting to read that in schools, 'speed' is usually associated with 'smart'.I know that only too well, especially in math. It's also interesting to note that Math is not an introvert's strong point. I know that only too well too. I had requested that H be moved up to 3rd grade Language Arts so I could teach him and N at the same level at the same time, but whenever we do comprehension and I ask the questions, H would always be the first one to answer, while N lingers, still thinking of the question. I had once stopped doing Language Arts with them both. They had to be separated because H's speed seemed to be burying N's insights.

Introverts need enough sleep and cannot function well without it. Sure, this is true for most people, but introverts have a harder time with it. I can say that from experience, and from contrasting hubby's and my sleep requirements.

Introverts become drained being around people, even if they enjoy that social occasion. I have always thought myself strange and weird, believing that maybe I needed to change myself. I did notice that I always am exhausted after entertaining people in my home, and if hubby were to suggest me calling someone on the phone right away after that, I would fend off the suggestion and say,

"I'm really tired. I don't feel like talking to anyone for hours again."

Extroverts on the other hand, derive energy from being around people. They need to be around people, and can't stand being alone too much. Introverts need their own space to recharge.

The author talks about how the brains of introverts and extroverts work differently, which contributes to the different temperaments. As I was reading this, I thought about the four temperaments or personalities mentioned in the Quran in Surah An-Nisaa [4:69]:

	.

69: Muhsin Khan: And whoso obeys Allah and the Messenger (Muhammad SAW), then they will be in the company of those on whom Allah has bestowed His Grace, of the Prophets, the Siddiqun (those followers of the Prophets who were first and foremost to believe in them, like Abu Bakr As­Siddiq ÑÖì ), the martyrs, and the righteous. And how excellent these companions are!

In History of the Khulafa, taught by Muhammad Alshareef, this ayah was mentioned, and he related it to the four types of personalities: the prophets, the siddiqun (truth seeker), shuhadaa'/martyrs (physical doer), and the saaliheen/righteous (helpers). The siddiqun are those who are seekers of knowledge, love learning, and usually are on self discovery. The shuhadaa' are usually great daa'eis who are great at giving speeches, and have great personas and aura, and maybe these are the extroverts. The saaliheen are people who like to go out and help and serve other people. So, in a Muslim ummah, we can use these different personalities to do dawah by using the strengths of each personality and applying them via teamwork. Mashaallah! In our community here, among the sisters I'm around, I see these three personalities at work, mashaallah.

Obviously, the world we live in now is an extrovert world, and introverts are so often undervalued and misunderstood. Since introverts are also more sensitive and are more prone to feeling guilt and shame, they will more likely conclude that something is wrong with them, and try to be more like an extrovert. Needless to say, to exhort a an introvert child to be more like an extrovert is a huge mistake, for it will affect her self esteem in general. From experience, I have to say that is true. Teachers in school also undervalue introverts, and it's only teachers who do reach out to those introverts who are able to recognize the hidden gifts of the introverted children. I have one such teacher in elementary school, with whom I always spent my P.E. mornings in the classroom, chatting. While the rest of the class were outside, doing P.E., I stayed inside, and she would talk to me. Suffice it to say, she is my favorite teacher.

Moving on to the Hidden Gifts of the Introverted Child, and how to nurture and tend to these gifts:

The Hidden Gifts of the Introverted Child

1. Introverts Have Rich Inner Lives

Innies have a rich inner world that is filled with continuous thoughts. Their minds are always 'busy' thinking. As parents and adults dealing with introverts, we should help introvert children express these thoughts and feelings, so they realize the depth and richness of their interiority. Introverts tend to do their own thing instead of swaying with 'the other prairie grass'. I do notice that a lot in N. She will do her own thing regardless of what other kids are doing. But adults need to bring out these rich minds so these innie kids will learn to trust and value their own thoughts, rather than think that maybe they should be like the other 'normal' kids.

On the other hand, this busy inner world can make them feel alone, as they are very capable of reflections and looking into themselves and thinking 'big stuff'. Having one-on-one conversations with them where we tell them our thoughts and ask for their responses would make them feel less isolated. As an Innie myself, I can affirm that I do truly enjoy one-on-one conversations with people who do show a genuine interest, like my dear elementary school teacher I mentioned above. I have also noticed that N takes to people who do show an interest rather easily. She expresses her delight in them coming over, and can be very compassionate and thoughtful in ways you would never expect.

Hooking them up with pen-pals would also help them express their thoughts and feelings while giving them enough space and time to respond. Innies can take some time to respond, as their brains take a longer pathway to process information. So as adults, we should pause while waiting for them to respond to us, and not rush them. A constant reminder for me when dealing with N.


2. Innies Know How to Smell the Roses

Definitely. Hubby is an extrovert. Well at least I think he lies on the extrovert end of the spectrum. He is also the Type A kind of person, which has affected us all as a family in many ways. Our motto seems to be, "Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!". I have learned to live with this lifestyle over the years, but apparently, it has proved to be too much for N, who is always the last one to get ready, and would always be rushed everywhere we go. It's exasperating to us, but from her perspective, I suppose it's exasperating having to rush all the time too!

When I do spend time with N, just her and and Baby Z, the world does seem quieter and slower. Once hubby, S and H enter through the front door though, our quiet and slow-moving world is often crushed by the fast-paced world again. So I do truly savor those quiet and relaxing moments with N.

Innies notice details that most other people just pass by without thinking about. They tend to relish the little things in life that busy people overlook. So in a way, introverted children bring life to a family by bringing in the rich little pleasures that Allah has created for us to reflect upon and enjoy. So, as parents, we should slow down and learn to smell the roses with our innie children. Maybe, Allah gave us innies so we would stop and smell the roses! Subhanallah...

3. Innies Have a Love of Learning

So you can tell that having an innie child for a homeschooler is actually a pleasure and maybe a boon! I always find myself having inner conversations in my head, which sometimes, embarassingly escape auditorily. I was caught having a conversation with myself by my parents, in the bathroom, in front of a mirror, much to my horror and embarasment. I still have those conversations today, and sometimes, my kids might catch me mouthing words with facial expressions to match.

"Ummi's talking to herself again!" they would say.

I see that in N too. I would hear her talking to herself in a very soft voice. Since we're all so busy to mind her, it's kind of difficult to notice her doing this unless you're in the room just with her, or she happens to pass by you while she's doing this.

In the book, the author says that Innies generally have a love for writing and reading, and a high precentage of them goes to college, as their learning style fits those required in higher education. Ns forte is writing, and I did figure out, even before reading the book, that one way to effectively communicate with her is through writing. I find that true for me too. I find writing to be a better way of expressing how I feel to people than verbal conversation. Ever since the kids have an email account, I would sometimes send them email. Hubby would scoff,

"Why do you email them? Just tell them. You're already at home with them!"

He emails them from his office. I laugh at his remark, but I do it because I know that sometimes it's hard to say what you feel in spoken words. On the other hand, once you get an innie to talk about a topic he has an interest in, it's like turning on an 'information fountain', as termed by the author. I think my friends would concur with that with regards to me and my lengthy emails.

So as parents, we should encourage this trait in our innies by paying attention to what he is interested in and going to the library to find books on those topics. You could also talk with them about the books they are reading. They need an outlet for all this inner information milling about in their minds.


4. Introverts Think Outside the Box

The author says that innies are creative problem solvers. They in short, are able to think of creative ways to solve problems. I have done the sit, discuss problem and brainstorm solutions process with the kids. Thinking back, I suppose N does have a lot of good ideas. It always amazes you how a quiet person can contribute in mind-blowing ways, and that is very true with regards to N.

In order to appreciate this gift in an innie, parents can ask their opinions on a dilemma. Parents should also help them use this gift to solve their own problems, by maybe asking them to draw a picture, write poetry or story to express their thoughts and feelings that are troubling. You could also be very surprised at what you see in this inner world of you innie child!

Indeed I have received more than a glimpse of N's inner world through her poems and stories and continuous drawings. It is mind-blowing to say the least.


5. Introverts Excel in the Creative Arts

Being creative is strongly related to the ability to think outside the box and having a rich inner world. Introverts are found in artists, dancers, musicians, writers. As a child, I was discouraged from dabbling much in drawing or painting, though I found it very enjoyable and therapeutic. I felt that drawing and painting enables me to escape from this world that sometimes feel constricting into my own world. I think it might be the same for N too. Subhanallah...no wonder she spends so much time drawing, doodling, and writing poems and stories.

As parents, we should encourage these creative expressions in our innies by making accessible arts supplies, taking them to flea markets, etc, and allow them freedom to create without criticism. I used to enjoy my visits to my grandfather's house, who was an art teacher. Every time I visit, he would take out art supplies, and I would paint to my heart's content. He would show me how to mix the paint colors to get the right tone and shade, and how to do the strokes on paper. In school though, I seldom get A for artwork, because I always felt constricted by what we had to draw. I always felt that I wanted the freedom to draw whatever I wanted to draw, and not what someone wanted me to draw. The only A I received I think, was on a potato stamping print that I did. Now, my drawing days are 97% over, and writing has taken over.


6. Introverts Have a High Emotional IQ

A woman dropped her carton of eggs, resulting in a huge mess of yolks and slippery egg whites on the floor of a local grocery store. We happened to walk past the lady, when I suddenly noticed N;s facial expression. She had seen the woman drop her eggs, and as I watched N, her face took on an expression emanating empathy to the point that she looked like she was about to cry. I quickly told hubby, and hubby asked N,

"You're sad that the woman dropped her eggs, N?"

I believe N nodded.

Another time, she offered to give our neighbor one of her favorite toy in return for that neighbor sharing with us their food. I was surprised by her generosity.

Innies are emphatic by nature, and may be wise well before their years. The author says though that the brain's emotional center is thelast to fully develop, so the parents should help nurture this skill over a longer period of time. So basically, acknowledge these traits in our innies and encourage it, for emotional IQ is a kind of intelligence that is crucial to a person's well being, more than the kind of intelligence mostly talked about now today.


7. Introverts are Gifted at the Art of Conversation

Contrary to the myths of introverts being shy, not good at working in groups, introverts are gifted at the art of conversation. They might not be gregarious in a gruop setting, and may seem reserved, but from personal experience an observations, introverts do take some time to warm up to people. My mother told me about my younger sister, how she may seem reserved and aloof, but once she gets to know a person, she is very amiable.

All my children are like this. They are slow to warm up to new people, and it may take a whole visit for them to actually hook up with our new guests, and at the time that the guests have to leave, only do they begin to appear animated. I was like this too. In my adulthood, I have learned to overcome this trait by training myself to be bubbly, though it can be exhausting.

Introverts have a lot to say when they are allowed time to get comfortable and say it. When having a chat with N, I find myself blown away by her insights and thoughts, mashaallah. You would never know all of this is going on inside her quiet self. Though I should know better since I am an introvert myself. Introverts usually make very good friends because they remember what friends say, keep confidences and pick up cues.

The author says that innies excel in one-on-one relationships and often choose careers that rely on it. As parents, we should help our innies better their conversational skills by complimenting these abilities in them, their ability to listen, pick up cues, remember what people say, being genuinely interested in people, and having deep conversations. Having written that, I do realize that I have tried so hard to be 'like other people' that sometimes I don't remember what friends say and have trouble keeping up with personal relationships on a one-on-one basis. Subhanallah.
You learn something new everyday, don't you?


8. Introverts Enjoy their Own Company

"The good thing is, she knows how to entertain herself," was what the psychiatrist said to my dad, when my dad referred me to his friend for 'evaluation', because I was the 'trouble child' who doesn't speak much to my family members.

N spends a lot of time by herself, and it doesn't bother her one bit. Introverts enjoy solitude. I can attest to that wholeheartedly, which sometimes or okay I admit, most of the time envelop me with guilt, when people keep calling me to have a chat. Most of the time, I don't really feel like talking. I would rather be stuck at home doing my own thing.

In a way it is liberating not to depend on being around people to have fun, and this is what parents should cherish in their innie children. Tell your innies that enjoying one's own company is a gift and that there is nothing wrong with it. Parents should also teach their innies how to balance and assess their social time, that they might need to recharge themselves before joining any social activities.

What we have done is tell the kids to bring books when we're going anywhere where there will be social functions or where they might get bored. I'm not sure if that really caters to an innie's need for solitude, maybe not fully, but at least partially. Realistically, it's kind of difficult to cater to each child's different needs when you are living in a foreign country where you don't have family members to drop your lone child off at when the rest of the family needs to go somewhere that lone child doesn't want to go to.


9. Introverts Are Refreshingly Modest

Innies do not like to be the center of attention. They prefer to be in the background. In this extovert world, in a typical classroom, innies might not be among those who raise their hands excitedly unable to keep their answer in their mouths much longer. Innies might not be among those who are antsy to go to the front of the class and be in the school play. Innies might not be among those who are eager to do show and tell. However, they might be among those who enjoy working in a project and contribute to group projects in a way that doesn't force them to be in the limelight. In fact, receiving attention might even make them uncomfortable.

So as parents to innie children, let them know it's okay to not want to be in the limelight. On the other hand, innies do like to be acknowledged for their accomplishments, so make sure their little achievements are praised in private.


10.Introverts Develop Healthy Habits

Because Innies know how to stop and smell the roses, they are generally more prone to pay attention to their health. They avoid taking high risk 'adventures' that usually land extrovertsin trouble. They are also not the Type A kind of person, so naturally Innies have more longevity.

Studies have shown that some personality traits affect health, and innies are able to say no to themselves, better disciplined in taking care of themselves and manage illnesses better than extroverts. I see this in myself in contrast to hubby. Hubby would go all out in his sports activities, even if it meant he would fall and hurt himself, where I would always be the timid one, well let's put it in a nicer way (for me) : the more cautious one. I would also be more strict on putting myself to bed at a certain time because I know that if I don't have enough sleep I would not function well, whereas he would be flexible in his sleeping time and just 'manage' even with red bloodshot eyes. This has been a self struggle for me to be honest, as I need to sleep on time, yet that is the only time I have to spend with him. However, my lack of sleep has taken a toll on me recently, and I have managed to put myself to sleep on time these past few weeks regardless of hubby's turning in time. I had to sacrifice time with him in order to get my 'health' back because if I lose my 'health', I would be no good to anyone in this family.

As parents of Innies, you need to encourage these healthy behaviors in your innies. Sometimes innies will say they want to go to bed, and I've had this happen with N, but sometimes she does refuse to go to bed early despite looking like a zombie. One suggestion that the author offers is to talk to them about why their bodies need certain foods to encourage them to eat healthier.


11. Introverts Are good Citizens

Innies are said to generally have strong inner values (religious), and are more cautious, so they are probably less likely to break rules. Innies often think before they act, say no to themselves, and are guided by their inner compasses. So as parents, we should acknowledge these qualities in our innie children.


12.Introverts Are Good Friends

The author says that because innies are usually not everybody's friends, they tend to preserve the friends that they do have longer and better. Innies are said to be loyal, caring, and sensitive to others' feelings. They make take time to warm up but once they do, it's there to stay.

So generally, these innie children should be told of these hidden gifts, and not forced to turn into extroverts. Rather, they should be encouraged to utilize and manage their introvert gifts to thrive in this extrovert world. The author also suggests talking to children about different temperaments, so they would appreciate differences in people, and also maybe provide them with interpersonal skills. I personally think that this is a good way to train children to be tolerant of other people, especially those that are different from them. An applicable way of doing this is to discuss the temperaments of book characters for example. Winnie the Pooh, is he an innie or an outie? Piglet? Tigger? Definitely an outie. Eeyore? Definitely an innie.

Both extroverts and introverts have good and bad qualities and gifts, hidden or apparent, and both extroverts and introverts need to learn to use their introvert and extrovert sides. I find this book to be very refreshing, as I personally have struggled in the extrovert world, and once I became a parent, I also found myself struggling with my introvert kids.

After receiving comments from people about my children's reserved nature, I finally came to my own conclusion that being quiet is not bad in itself, and that we don't all have to be like that. Ahh..if only I was told that when I was a child. So I told my children that it is okay to not be like other kids, to the point that S responded to me, when I praised her for being 'cooperative' in her STEP class by participating in class discussions,

"I don't really care."

She didn't really care about being 'normal' in a classroom setting, but just did it because her teacher and I talked about it and decided that she has to 'cooperate'. I then sat her down and made a deal that she would raise her hand twice a month at least to fulfill this requirement, but that privately, I don't really mind that she doesn't. After dealing to the point of frustration with this issue, both her and myself, I made sure I told them that they don't have to be like other kids. That they're not weird. I realized that my children do have rich inner lives and that they do get along with people they are well acquainted with. I have also learned not to mind people's comments and unwanted advice so much, for I have also come to realize, even before reading this book, that we introverts do have a lot to offer the world, but in our own ways.

And from an Islamic perspective, all these different temperaments and personalities are celebrated, as apparent in the ayah, because each temperament has its own strengths, and it's those strengths that we should focus upon to derive the most benefit, for Allah created all the differences so we could get to know one another and benefit from one another. Subhanallah!

Self-initiated Activities

I had bought these books containing science experiments and activities for homeschoolers, but have never been really able to do much of them due to our filled schedule with OHVA lessons. With OHVA lessons coming to a close, alhamdulillah, those books are getting a breath of fresh air.

H has been conducting his own experiments, as evident from the frequent surprises I get when I open my freezer. Unfortunately I have had to chuck his experiments of frozen mud, snow balls, and what not to make more space for the chicken and meat.

He was the first to be done with his OHVA lessons, so he was the first to be' 'let out' of 'school' so to speak. He came to me one day with an empty soda bottle, and asked what to mix together to make the bottle cap pop open.

"Baking soda and vinegar," I said.

"Oh...I have some books on science experiments you can read," I added, as I remembered those books sitting dormantly in the metal cabinets.

"Yeah!" H exclaimed in glee.

I never thought I would actually make use of those books. Throughout the years, I have eyed them, flipped through them, only to put them back in the cabinets, and proceed to finish up their school lesson plans. Finally, after all these years, I'm able to hand them to the kids, and give those pages some breathing room.

Before long, all three were up to something, and before I knew it, they had tried out several experiments from the books.

"Look Ummi, we made play clay!"

A hotdog, a long sandwich, a burger and a normal loafbread sandwich!

I had noticed my saucepan sitting on the kitchen table, covered with a quilted cloth. When I peeked inside, I only saw green water. I left it alone though. What they showed me was a green blob of clay they had made all by themselves by following the instructions from the book. Voila! Self-initiated activities! No work on my part! Is this great or is this great?

H made a Y boomerang, and N tried out a blind spot experiment, which she claimed was a 'lie' after all. The kids are really artists with clay, especially N and S. They had created a living jungle, complete with trees, food, a garden, all from clay. Even I don't have that dexterity or skill to mold such things from clay. Alhamdulillah their creativity has not been inhibited, like mine.

H and N are in a ceramics class, and recently, N gave me a 'Daisy Bowl' which she had made especially for me. H gave me a vase, in which he put some blossoms from one of those trees I am also oohh and aahing over.


H's vase for Ummi from the ceramics class

Now, S has also finished her OHVA lessons, except for a few more of History, and she has one more test in the series of Ohio Achievement Tests, whereas N has two tests next week, and is at present finishing up her math, literature and composition inshaallah.