I awoke to the whimpers of Baby Z. H who was already up and about came in and began to churn out his usual chatter. I instinctively tuned him out in my groggy state. Somehow, I went back to sleep and awoke to H's panic report:
"Ummi, there's a truck next to our space and the van's not there!"
"Uh oh, call Abi and tell him," I said, and went right back to sleep.
"Ummi, Abi's coming home. He said, 'Oh no' and said he'll becoming home soon."
This time I really woke up and dashed for the window to look at the missing van.
"Ya Allah! Call Abi!" I exclaimed.
There stood a moving truck, a long white moving truck in the parking space next to ours, totally blocking any view we would have of our blue van.
"H, of course you can't see the van! The truck is blocking it! Go call Abi now!"
Mirth percolated up my throat
"He's not picking up!" he yelled back.
"H! He's probably on the way home now, and you made him come back home for nothing!"
I was half laughing and half scolding him. He looked sheepish and indignant.
"No, it's not blocking. The van's gone!"
He can't be serious! I thought.
"Ok, go outside and see if the van's there. Go! Now!" I urged him.
"Noo..the van's not there!" he insisted.
"Go and look, quick! H! you just made Abi come home for nothing!" I chortled.
He ran out barefeet, peeked next to the moving truck, and from his widened grin I knew I was right. He ran back with a very sheepish grin.
"Ohh H, you're in trouble. Abi's gonna come home and be mad that you wasted his time," I chuckled as I left him to go back to bed.
I lay back down with Baby Z, who was wide awake, looking at his surrounding.
"Look at your silly brother, Z," I said to him.
A wide smile formed on his face, his eyes looking straight at H who was standing over me, sheepish grin never having left his face.
"Look H, he's laughing at his silly brother."
I don't know what went through H's mind, but when hubby came back, he was under the school table in his room.
"Who wants me home?! Who wants me home?!"
I got up and met hubby coming up the stairs feigning anger. H remained under the table quietly.
I chuckled.
"Just tell me you want me home!" boomed hubby as H giggled under the table.
"Well, now that I'm home, recite to me Al-Insaan," said hubby.
Tsk, tsk, tsk, H and his antics.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
So adorable!
"I can't bear to NOT look at this baby!"
"He's such an adorable baby!"
"I love his cheeks."
"I love all of him!"
Hubby had left us in the van in the parking lot while he dashed into K Mart to get me some nursing pads. The kids, as usual were enamored by the sleeping Baby Z.
Baby Z is almost 2 months old, and their fascination with him is still fresh, mashaallah.
I woke up one morning and found two kids sitting quietly at the foot of my bed, looking at their baby brother.
S even asked if she could change Baby Z's diaper. I only let her put it on because I have beun to wash him in the bathroom, Malaysian style, instead of doing it on the changing table. It's quicker and easier to do it with water like we did with all the kids.
Yesterday, as I struggled to take a nap, S put Baby Z to sleep. It was the longest nap he took yesterday. We had even dubbed him 'The king of crybaby' because he would wake up after only a short while of what seemed like deep sleep.
Baby Z on the other hand, I think have begun to realize the fact that he has lder siblings who like to hover over him.
We went to the library yesterday. N was the only one who remembered to pick some books to read to Baby Z.
"He's such an adorable baby!"
"I love his cheeks."
"I love all of him!"
Hubby had left us in the van in the parking lot while he dashed into K Mart to get me some nursing pads. The kids, as usual were enamored by the sleeping Baby Z.
Baby Z is almost 2 months old, and their fascination with him is still fresh, mashaallah.
I woke up one morning and found two kids sitting quietly at the foot of my bed, looking at their baby brother.
S even asked if she could change Baby Z's diaper. I only let her put it on because I have beun to wash him in the bathroom, Malaysian style, instead of doing it on the changing table. It's quicker and easier to do it with water like we did with all the kids.
Yesterday, as I struggled to take a nap, S put Baby Z to sleep. It was the longest nap he took yesterday. We had even dubbed him 'The king of crybaby' because he would wake up after only a short while of what seemed like deep sleep.
Baby Z on the other hand, I think have begun to realize the fact that he has lder siblings who like to hover over him.
We went to the library yesterday. N was the only one who remembered to pick some books to read to Baby Z.
Friday, June 08, 2007
A Day at the 'Beach'
Yesterday Baby Z spent a day at the 'beach' napping!
If only he would nap like that at home, I repeatedly said to myself.
I think it hit 90 degrees yesterday, and I wasn't too keen on bringing him out for the graduation BBQ held by the Malaysians.
However, hubby was going with the kids anyway, since they wanted to play with the sand, and I thus had a choice of staying home or going with them. My initial plan was to stay home and catch a few winks, but just as I lay in bed next to Baby Z, he woke up and refused to go back to sleep.
"I'm going then. I'm not going to stay home with a crying baby all by myself," I told hubby.
Sleepy and tired, I was in no state to be with Baby Z all by myself. I would bear the heat and as it was quite late in the afternoon, I figured it was okay as long as we kept him in the shade.
He whimpered a bit in the van. By the time we were at the park, he was fast asleep and continued to do so while the kids played in the sand.
Due to his continuous waking up the day before, I had started writing down the times he started sleeping and the times he woke up to see if he was getting at least 15 hours of sleep. However, as soon as I saw him snoozing at the beach, at the BBQ, and it was very windy too, I said to myself,
"Forget it. He has 15 hours of sleep inshaallah!"
And today, subhanallah, (I hope it's not temporary), just before I walked in the bathroom, I took a peek at him in the room. He was falling asleep all by himself! He woke up when I came out though but at least that was a good 10 minutes at least that he slept.
And just now, in his bassinet, I lay him on his right, rubbed his back while Saad AlGhamidi recited Yusuf, and before long, he was sound asleep. Before, I had to recite Yusuf to him and rock him to sleep and even then, it wasn't that easy for him to find a comfortable position and fall asleep.
I really hope this is not temporary. I made the dua yesterday and allahu akbar today it was easy. Now maybe we're getting somewhere with my trying to figure out how in heaven I am going to homeschool the kids with Baby Z! I dread August.
If only he would nap like that at home, I repeatedly said to myself.
I think it hit 90 degrees yesterday, and I wasn't too keen on bringing him out for the graduation BBQ held by the Malaysians.
However, hubby was going with the kids anyway, since they wanted to play with the sand, and I thus had a choice of staying home or going with them. My initial plan was to stay home and catch a few winks, but just as I lay in bed next to Baby Z, he woke up and refused to go back to sleep.
"I'm going then. I'm not going to stay home with a crying baby all by myself," I told hubby.
Sleepy and tired, I was in no state to be with Baby Z all by myself. I would bear the heat and as it was quite late in the afternoon, I figured it was okay as long as we kept him in the shade.
He whimpered a bit in the van. By the time we were at the park, he was fast asleep and continued to do so while the kids played in the sand.
Due to his continuous waking up the day before, I had started writing down the times he started sleeping and the times he woke up to see if he was getting at least 15 hours of sleep. However, as soon as I saw him snoozing at the beach, at the BBQ, and it was very windy too, I said to myself,
"Forget it. He has 15 hours of sleep inshaallah!"
And today, subhanallah, (I hope it's not temporary), just before I walked in the bathroom, I took a peek at him in the room. He was falling asleep all by himself! He woke up when I came out though but at least that was a good 10 minutes at least that he slept.
And just now, in his bassinet, I lay him on his right, rubbed his back while Saad AlGhamidi recited Yusuf, and before long, he was sound asleep. Before, I had to recite Yusuf to him and rock him to sleep and even then, it wasn't that easy for him to find a comfortable position and fall asleep.
I really hope this is not temporary. I made the dua yesterday and allahu akbar today it was easy. Now maybe we're getting somewhere with my trying to figure out how in heaven I am going to homeschool the kids with Baby Z! I dread August.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Chinese Baby
"He looks like a Chinese baby!" S commented as she readied herself to snap a photo of Baby Z.
I had taken to bringing him out for as many mornings as I can to get his does of Vitamin D from the golden ball. Once I do, we usually go to the playground. 15 minutes is the tops and then we walk back home.
Baby Z is beginning to look more and more Chinese I suppose.
"He's sleepy," S said.
"How do you know?" I asked.
"His eyes look like crescents."
I took a picture of Baby Z sleeping on his side, and when I looked at the photo, the first thing that came to my mind was Abdulbary Yahya.
Hubby is even calling him, "Hey there you Chinese Muslim!"
I wonder where he got the Chinese look from?
I had taken to bringing him out for as many mornings as I can to get his does of Vitamin D from the golden ball. Once I do, we usually go to the playground. 15 minutes is the tops and then we walk back home.
Baby Z is beginning to look more and more Chinese I suppose.
"He's sleepy," S said.
"How do you know?" I asked.
"His eyes look like crescents."
I took a picture of Baby Z sleeping on his side, and when I looked at the photo, the first thing that came to my mind was Abdulbary Yahya.
Hubby is even calling him, "Hey there you Chinese Muslim!"
I wonder where he got the Chinese look from?
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Souvenir for Big Brother
"Eww!" they screamed in unison.
They gathered around it, and recoiled at the sight. On the floor of their room lay the item of attention: Baby Z's belly stump. It had fallen right on their bedroom floor.
"Pick it up," I said.
"Eww!" they chorused again.
I emitted a chuckle and left them with the item of disgust.
A while later I came back, it was gone.
Big Bro H had put it in a huge ziploc bag and placed the ziploc bag in his three ring binder.
"See!" he exclaimed, proud of his own little souvenir from his baby brother, whom he has been waiting for to play soccer with.
I wonder how long that stump will survive in his binder. Of all of them, I never thought he would be the one to claim possession of the 'Eww' inducing item of disgust out of love for his new brother. Well, baby brothers can do wonders, I guess.
They gathered around it, and recoiled at the sight. On the floor of their room lay the item of attention: Baby Z's belly stump. It had fallen right on their bedroom floor.
"Pick it up," I said.
"Eww!" they chorused again.
I emitted a chuckle and left them with the item of disgust.
A while later I came back, it was gone.
Big Bro H had put it in a huge ziploc bag and placed the ziploc bag in his three ring binder.
"See!" he exclaimed, proud of his own little souvenir from his baby brother, whom he has been waiting for to play soccer with.
I wonder how long that stump will survive in his binder. Of all of them, I never thought he would be the one to claim possession of the 'Eww' inducing item of disgust out of love for his new brother. Well, baby brothers can do wonders, I guess.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
New?
"It doesn't feel like he's new," she said.
"Huh?"
I didn't understand the statement.
"It doesn't feel like Z is new," she repeated.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"There's not a lot of new stuff that we have to get," she replied.
"You mean you feel like we've had him all along?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"Why do you feel that way?"
"Because we used to get stuff for you when you were pregnant."
That coming from my eldest, the biggest help in the house. I had thought she meant that it felt like we have had Baby Z all along, even when he was in my belly, which was sweet. I had wanted a Z if it was a boy and for some time we even started to call the baby Z. On the other hand, we had trouble finding a girl name if it was a girl. The kids didn't like the name Rayyanah, which hubby wanted to spell Raeyyana, or something of that variation, to make it unique. I loved the name, and was about to embark on another girl name search towards the end of the pregnancy. I picked Rumaysa, but we didn't really agree as a family.
Alhamdulillah, Allah made it easy. Out came a boy. Z it was then.
I asked N and H if they felt like Z was new. H said yes and N said. "A little bit new."
In a way, I suppose we have had Z all along, though I keep calling him H and sometimes J.
"Huh?"
I didn't understand the statement.
"It doesn't feel like Z is new," she repeated.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"There's not a lot of new stuff that we have to get," she replied.
"You mean you feel like we've had him all along?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"Why do you feel that way?"
"Because we used to get stuff for you when you were pregnant."
That coming from my eldest, the biggest help in the house. I had thought she meant that it felt like we have had Baby Z all along, even when he was in my belly, which was sweet. I had wanted a Z if it was a boy and for some time we even started to call the baby Z. On the other hand, we had trouble finding a girl name if it was a girl. The kids didn't like the name Rayyanah, which hubby wanted to spell Raeyyana, or something of that variation, to make it unique. I loved the name, and was about to embark on another girl name search towards the end of the pregnancy. I picked Rumaysa, but we didn't really agree as a family.
Alhamdulillah, Allah made it easy. Out came a boy. Z it was then.
I asked N and H if they felt like Z was new. H said yes and N said. "A little bit new."
In a way, I suppose we have had Z all along, though I keep calling him H and sometimes J.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
As weeks go by
Week 2, Baby Z attended his first Juma'ah prayer, as his doctor visit happened to be just before the Juma'ah prayer started at a nearby location. While hubby and H prayed, I nursed a hungry Baby Z at far end of the rented gymnasium. His first Juma'ah, he was too busy eating.
Week 3, Baby Z had his first outing as we bruoght my mother downtown for sightseeing. He also sent his Grandma to the airport at the end of this week. Of course he was oblivious to the whole farewell thing. Baby Z also slept through his brother's soccer game.
Week 4, Baby Z was weighed and had gained 26 oz in 15 days. A whopping 7 lbs 11 oz. Alhamdulillah. I was worried he wasn't gaining what with all the spitting up. He also attended his first waleemah this week. This was where someone insisted he was small, didn't look like a one-month old baby and looked fragile as he was mistaken for a girl.
Week 5, mainly because of Baby Z we ditched going to the Malaysian Midwest Games, so hubby went by himself. We spent an interesting weekend by ourselves at home. Baby Z attended his second waleemah. Oh boy, does this mean anything?
Week 6, Baby Z is becoming increasingly hooked and used to having Surah Yusuf recited to him to lull him to sleep.
H has started to call him Chubby.
S is crazy about picking him up all the time.
N kisses him every chance she gets.
S seldom talks to him, just as she resolutely refuses to practice her surah aloud.
When we discussed it over dinner, H said,
"Because she's embarassed."
N constantly says,
"Z! Z!"
while H will actually talk to him, though not in Motherese.
H: What happened to you and Chubby?
N: "His faraj looks funny. It hangs. Is there something wrong with it?"
Me: "How come you guys don't go to the masjid as often as you did when I was pregnant?"
S smiled and replied,
"Because of Z."
N keeps asking about the 'next baby'.
N: "How old will Zeyd be when the newborn comes out?"
Me: "What?"
N repeats her question, I still don't understand, but finally does.
Me: "I don't know."
H: "Ask Abi, he knows."
Me thinking to myself, this boy thinks the world of his father.
When hubby left for Dekalb, Illinois during the Memorial weekend for the Midwest games, H kept asking,
"When will Abi come back?"
"Is he coming back tomorrow?"
"Can I call him?"
After hubby told him over the phone that he was going to home in 45 minutes, H said,
"I wonder how he calculated it."
I still can't believe we have 7 years difference between H and Baby Z. I must be very old.
Week 3, Baby Z had his first outing as we bruoght my mother downtown for sightseeing. He also sent his Grandma to the airport at the end of this week. Of course he was oblivious to the whole farewell thing. Baby Z also slept through his brother's soccer game.
Week 4, Baby Z was weighed and had gained 26 oz in 15 days. A whopping 7 lbs 11 oz. Alhamdulillah. I was worried he wasn't gaining what with all the spitting up. He also attended his first waleemah this week. This was where someone insisted he was small, didn't look like a one-month old baby and looked fragile as he was mistaken for a girl.
Week 5, mainly because of Baby Z we ditched going to the Malaysian Midwest Games, so hubby went by himself. We spent an interesting weekend by ourselves at home. Baby Z attended his second waleemah. Oh boy, does this mean anything?
Week 6, Baby Z is becoming increasingly hooked and used to having Surah Yusuf recited to him to lull him to sleep.
H has started to call him Chubby.
S is crazy about picking him up all the time.
N kisses him every chance she gets.
S seldom talks to him, just as she resolutely refuses to practice her surah aloud.
When we discussed it over dinner, H said,
"Because she's embarassed."
N constantly says,
"Z! Z!"
while H will actually talk to him, though not in Motherese.
H: What happened to you and Chubby?
N: "His faraj looks funny. It hangs. Is there something wrong with it?"
Me: "How come you guys don't go to the masjid as often as you did when I was pregnant?"
S smiled and replied,
"Because of Z."
N keeps asking about the 'next baby'.
N: "How old will Zeyd be when the newborn comes out?"
Me: "What?"
N repeats her question, I still don't understand, but finally does.
Me: "I don't know."
H: "Ask Abi, he knows."
Me thinking to myself, this boy thinks the world of his father.
When hubby left for Dekalb, Illinois during the Memorial weekend for the Midwest games, H kept asking,
"When will Abi come back?"
"Is he coming back tomorrow?"
"Can I call him?"
After hubby told him over the phone that he was going to home in 45 minutes, H said,
"I wonder how he calculated it."
I still can't believe we have 7 years difference between H and Baby Z. I must be very old.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Watching the baby
Baby Z and I went home on Sunday. I was excited for the kids. They had been waiting for this baby for quite some time. They were even skeptical over whether there was going to be a baby, after what happened with Julaybib. So the homecoming was pretty special, alhamdulillah a contrast from my homecoming with Julaybib, which was also around noon.
Hubby, my mother, S and H went to the organic store, so it was just N, me and Baby Z at home. I was exhausted, as I didn't have enough sleep the night before as Baby Z cried and only let me sleep for about one hour total.
N was sitting on our bed, looking at Baby Z. She seemed fascinated by him. As I drifted off to sleep, I told her,
"Just watch him, ok."
A few hours later, hubby came back.
"N, what're you doing? Let Ummi rest. Come," hubby whispered to her.
"But ummi said to look at the baby," she replied.
Apparently, she had spent the hours just sitting there and literally watching him sleep, never taking her eyes off him.
That was April 22. After a few weeks, everytime I wake up in the morning, it was her big eyes, long hair that hovers over me. She made it her routine to pop in my room first thing in the morning to look at Baby Z.
Safe to say, they are all in love with Baby Z.
Hubby, my mother, S and H went to the organic store, so it was just N, me and Baby Z at home. I was exhausted, as I didn't have enough sleep the night before as Baby Z cried and only let me sleep for about one hour total.
N was sitting on our bed, looking at Baby Z. She seemed fascinated by him. As I drifted off to sleep, I told her,
"Just watch him, ok."
A few hours later, hubby came back.
"N, what're you doing? Let Ummi rest. Come," hubby whispered to her.
"But ummi said to look at the baby," she replied.
Apparently, she had spent the hours just sitting there and literally watching him sleep, never taking her eyes off him.
That was April 22. After a few weeks, everytime I wake up in the morning, it was her big eyes, long hair that hovers over me. She made it her routine to pop in my room first thing in the morning to look at Baby Z.
Safe to say, they are all in love with Baby Z.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Friday, April 20, 11:14 am
Baby Z was born alhamdulillah. He waited for his father to get there from a 6 hour drive from St Louis before coming out.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
All Puffed Up
All three of them now help me with my socks and shoes.
S helped me with my shoes at the shoe rack in the masjid foyer without me asking her to.
"Is this your daughter?" asked the lady behind me.
"Yes," I replied.
"Maa shaa Allah! Jazakillah khair! You help your mother!" she exclaimed at S.
"Need any help?"
That's the question I always hear from S nowadays.
I lay in bed yesterday because my feet and hands were swollen, and I had N and H massaging my feet.
Lunch time came. S boiled some eggs as we had nothing no meat dishes. Last weekend was a very eventful weekend as we hosted our first AlMaghrib class as a reinstated Qabeelat! Allahu Akbar! So hubby didn't have time to cook between all the running around registering people, handling financial aid money, getting tea, restraining late people from entering the auditorium, cleaning up after the event.
I stayed in bed when N and H left me to go downstairs and eat lunch. H came up with a plate of rice and a nicely peeled boiled egg for me. I didn't even ask for it, thinking I would go downstairs when I am able to.
So I had lunch in bed yesterday.
Today me feet and hands swelled again, of course and N and S massaged my feet for me. I fell asleep and they cleaned the house and did what I told them to do.
Masha Allah. Alhamdulillah. I can ask for nothing more.
S helped me with my shoes at the shoe rack in the masjid foyer without me asking her to.
"Is this your daughter?" asked the lady behind me.
"Yes," I replied.
"Maa shaa Allah! Jazakillah khair! You help your mother!" she exclaimed at S.
"Need any help?"
That's the question I always hear from S nowadays.
I lay in bed yesterday because my feet and hands were swollen, and I had N and H massaging my feet.
Lunch time came. S boiled some eggs as we had nothing no meat dishes. Last weekend was a very eventful weekend as we hosted our first AlMaghrib class as a reinstated Qabeelat! Allahu Akbar! So hubby didn't have time to cook between all the running around registering people, handling financial aid money, getting tea, restraining late people from entering the auditorium, cleaning up after the event.
I stayed in bed when N and H left me to go downstairs and eat lunch. H came up with a plate of rice and a nicely peeled boiled egg for me. I didn't even ask for it, thinking I would go downstairs when I am able to.
So I had lunch in bed yesterday.
Today me feet and hands swelled again, of course and N and S massaged my feet for me. I fell asleep and they cleaned the house and did what I told them to do.
Masha Allah. Alhamdulillah. I can ask for nothing more.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Positive Reinforcement
N will never fail to wake me up for Asr after our naps. We have taken to forcing them to nap now because Isha is getting later and they also wake up at Fajr and do not go back to sleep afterwards.
H went with hubby to the Hayl meeting and a picnic afterwards so it was just us ladies in the house. We took a nap few hours after Zuhr and right when the azan was called, N came to my room and woke me up. It took me a while to wake up and I told them to pray first. They did. As I was trying to get up, I heard N reciting the Quran.
Today is Sunday. They didn't have any To Do Lists to abide by on the weekends. Sure, they have chores on Saturday, but Sundays they're usually free. Subhanallah! I suppose it has become a routine that it's so hard to shake off. Quran after Asr. They even resisted the urge to go and play outside before they read the Quran. S checked N's recitation. Right after N was done, they both left the house.
"What time should we come back?" shouted S before she closed the front door.
"6:30!" I croaked.
They came home around that time, while I was cooking and mopping the kitchen.
I felt bad for not offering them any praise when they did the above, because right when I went into the bathroom to shower, the bathtub was slippery with spilled shampoo: N's doing.
Of course she got some scolding. I told her to clean the bathtub after Maghrib. She did.
Sometimes I feel so evil. The times when they do praiseworthy acts are when I should have opened my mouth. The times when they do 'kid-expected' acts are when I should withhold my tongue and act with wisdom.
However, subhanallah, you can't help but love the purity and innocence Allah bestows in our children at such tender ages. You can't help but (yes, despite our faults and failure to abide by 'wise-parenting') feel blessed when the children behave in ways that just blow you away, in a nice way.
As I lay in bed and listened to N's halting recitation, corrected by S, I made dua in my heart,
"Oh Allah, please keep their purity and keep them away from bad influences and the path to the fire. Please make them among the saaliheen."
Now, I should make this dua,
"Oh Allah, please give me wisdom and insight that will brings us closer to You." Ameen.
H went with hubby to the Hayl meeting and a picnic afterwards so it was just us ladies in the house. We took a nap few hours after Zuhr and right when the azan was called, N came to my room and woke me up. It took me a while to wake up and I told them to pray first. They did. As I was trying to get up, I heard N reciting the Quran.
Today is Sunday. They didn't have any To Do Lists to abide by on the weekends. Sure, they have chores on Saturday, but Sundays they're usually free. Subhanallah! I suppose it has become a routine that it's so hard to shake off. Quran after Asr. They even resisted the urge to go and play outside before they read the Quran. S checked N's recitation. Right after N was done, they both left the house.
"What time should we come back?" shouted S before she closed the front door.
"6:30!" I croaked.
They came home around that time, while I was cooking and mopping the kitchen.
I felt bad for not offering them any praise when they did the above, because right when I went into the bathroom to shower, the bathtub was slippery with spilled shampoo: N's doing.
Of course she got some scolding. I told her to clean the bathtub after Maghrib. She did.
Sometimes I feel so evil. The times when they do praiseworthy acts are when I should have opened my mouth. The times when they do 'kid-expected' acts are when I should withhold my tongue and act with wisdom.
However, subhanallah, you can't help but love the purity and innocence Allah bestows in our children at such tender ages. You can't help but (yes, despite our faults and failure to abide by 'wise-parenting') feel blessed when the children behave in ways that just blow you away, in a nice way.
As I lay in bed and listened to N's halting recitation, corrected by S, I made dua in my heart,
"Oh Allah, please keep their purity and keep them away from bad influences and the path to the fire. Please make them among the saaliheen."
Now, I should make this dua,
"Oh Allah, please give me wisdom and insight that will brings us closer to You." Ameen.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
You're Famous!
I'm discovering more and more that H is truly a very bubbly character that would benefit from some submerging at times. One day he was so chatty and jumpy that I actually told hubby to drag him along when he goes out to play soccer with the brothers.
I was frowning in front of the computer, with a stack of books piled up high on the table, writing up my writing-related Curriculum Vita. The frown accompanied the task, as I didn't have much to fill up my CV.
"Can you get me the ' _________' book, please?" I asked out loud.
I have only been published in two 'books' so far and I needed those very badly for CV purposes. One of these books is in my possession and the kids just love reading my pieces in it.
The book sat on the table for a while, and pretty soon, it caught H's attention.
"Wow! Ummi! You're famous!" he suddenly exclaimed.
"You're a famous pregnant woman!" he added exuberantly. It was as if he just found sunken treasure in the middle of the Atlantic.
"No, ummi's a famous pregnant author," N piped in, in her calm and controlled manner.
I let out a very amused chuckle. To be called an author by my daughter when I am not even one is just downright hilarious but cute nevertheless.
All the while, I thought to myself, "I hate to disappoint these kids."
"I'm not famous," I said, as H kept jumping in excitement at the 'realization'.
"Yes you are! You're in a book!" he replied.
I chuckled.
The next day, I asked him,
"I'm in this magazine too. Am I famous too?"
"You are?!" he exclaimed.
"Where? where?"
Both S and H rushed to me to look for my name.
"Yeah! You're famous!" said H, with a serious nod.
Oh boy, then an obituary would probably make me famous too, huh? (just as long as my name is displayed)
I was frowning in front of the computer, with a stack of books piled up high on the table, writing up my writing-related Curriculum Vita. The frown accompanied the task, as I didn't have much to fill up my CV.
"Can you get me the ' _________' book, please?" I asked out loud.
I have only been published in two 'books' so far and I needed those very badly for CV purposes. One of these books is in my possession and the kids just love reading my pieces in it.
The book sat on the table for a while, and pretty soon, it caught H's attention.
"Wow! Ummi! You're famous!" he suddenly exclaimed.
"You're a famous pregnant woman!" he added exuberantly. It was as if he just found sunken treasure in the middle of the Atlantic.
"No, ummi's a famous pregnant author," N piped in, in her calm and controlled manner.
I let out a very amused chuckle. To be called an author by my daughter when I am not even one is just downright hilarious but cute nevertheless.
All the while, I thought to myself, "I hate to disappoint these kids."
"I'm not famous," I said, as H kept jumping in excitement at the 'realization'.
"Yes you are! You're in a book!" he replied.
I chuckled.
The next day, I asked him,
"I'm in this magazine too. Am I famous too?"
"You are?!" he exclaimed.
"Where? where?"
Both S and H rushed to me to look for my name.
"Yeah! You're famous!" said H, with a serious nod.
Oh boy, then an obituary would probably make me famous too, huh? (just as long as my name is displayed)
Friday, March 16, 2007
Switching Roles
"Aww that's so nice!" exclaimed the nurse as she opened the door and saw hubby and N helping me with my shoes.
Few weeks ago, we were getting ready to go out. My usual trouble: putting on my socks. Help!
S helped me. I didn't really feel it then.
Today, I had to clip my toenails, but I was having trouble.
"Need any help?" asked S. She was in the midst of cleaning her room. I relented. I never imagined what happened next would happen, at least not now.
S clipped my toenails. She's 9. I'm 30. My 9 year-old daughter clipped my toenails. I remember clipping her nails while she was sleeping when she was an infant.
Socks are next. Both of my daughters, aged 9 and 8, sat at my feet and slipped on my socks with a lot of difficulty.
As they were huffing and puffing with my socks, it took me a few minutes to be taken back to the time when I was the one huffing and puffing at their little feet!
A guffaw escaped me. They both looked at me, puzzled.
"When you were small, this was what I had to do every time I had to put on your socks or shoes. Now you're doing it for me. Mashaallah!" I explained.
May Allah preserve their innocence and purity and make them among the saaliheen. Ameen.
Few weeks ago, we were getting ready to go out. My usual trouble: putting on my socks. Help!
S helped me. I didn't really feel it then.
Today, I had to clip my toenails, but I was having trouble.
"Need any help?" asked S. She was in the midst of cleaning her room. I relented. I never imagined what happened next would happen, at least not now.
S clipped my toenails. She's 9. I'm 30. My 9 year-old daughter clipped my toenails. I remember clipping her nails while she was sleeping when she was an infant.
Socks are next. Both of my daughters, aged 9 and 8, sat at my feet and slipped on my socks with a lot of difficulty.
As they were huffing and puffing with my socks, it took me a few minutes to be taken back to the time when I was the one huffing and puffing at their little feet!
A guffaw escaped me. They both looked at me, puzzled.
"When you were small, this was what I had to do every time I had to put on your socks or shoes. Now you're doing it for me. Mashaallah!" I explained.
May Allah preserve their innocence and purity and make them among the saaliheen. Ameen.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Where do I begin?
A lot has been going on lately.
I discovered that H's personality is way different than the girls' such that he needs to be around people, hence why he savors going to the masjid with hubby every day.
Hubby bought him and S new watches. I had to contend hearing him tell me the time every single minute.
Just today he said to me, "A.M said there are five qalqalahs, da, ba, qaf, ja and..." and he couldn't remember one more.
I was pretty impressed that he caught on that pretty quick.
Today I told them to count their money as we were transferring their money from their money boxes to empty jars.
I had trouble with N, who seemed quite confused by the one dollar stack of coins I told her to make. While H counted his, and S hers, I sat with N and guided her throughout the counting. On paper, she does pretty well, but when it came to the real thing, she was lost.
Alhamdulillah though, we are done with school. N just has Math and Science to deal with. H just has Science and S naturally has Science, History, Math, Literature and Writing to finish. She however is working independently alhamdulillah.
I had to go through a non stress test last week because I told the doc the baby's movement was decreasing.
S came in with me and stayed for the whole half hour.
"So should the baby's heartbeat be high or low when s/he moves?" I asked her as we both looked at the machine blinking the baby's heart rate and graphing it.
"High," she answered.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because it's like it's running."
Well, high it was, up to 170 something. All was good alhamdulillah but I don't think S is going to come and stay with me for the upcoming non stress tests I have to undergo every week from now. Half an hour seemed to be too long for her as she kept reading the time off her watch to me.
They've been leaving me home alone lately, claiming that they like to pray at the masjid than at home.
"When the baby's here inshaallah, are you still going to leave me?" I asked them.
"No," they chorused.
"I want to play with the baby."
"I want the baby to play soccer with me." Guess who said that one?
Well, we'll see. When the baby wakes them up at night, we'll see if they still want to stay home with me and the baby.
Time flies by so quickly. My firstborn is almost 10 and I'm having inshaallah my fifth. At the same time that I will probably be dealing with pre pubescent issues with S, I will also be dealing with infant, and toddlerhood issues with the baby if everything goes well inshaallah. What a way to look forward to my parenting milestones. Subhanallah.
I discovered that H's personality is way different than the girls' such that he needs to be around people, hence why he savors going to the masjid with hubby every day.
Hubby bought him and S new watches. I had to contend hearing him tell me the time every single minute.
Just today he said to me, "A.M said there are five qalqalahs, da, ba, qaf, ja and..." and he couldn't remember one more.
I was pretty impressed that he caught on that pretty quick.
Today I told them to count their money as we were transferring their money from their money boxes to empty jars.
I had trouble with N, who seemed quite confused by the one dollar stack of coins I told her to make. While H counted his, and S hers, I sat with N and guided her throughout the counting. On paper, she does pretty well, but when it came to the real thing, she was lost.
Alhamdulillah though, we are done with school. N just has Math and Science to deal with. H just has Science and S naturally has Science, History, Math, Literature and Writing to finish. She however is working independently alhamdulillah.
I had to go through a non stress test last week because I told the doc the baby's movement was decreasing.
S came in with me and stayed for the whole half hour.
"So should the baby's heartbeat be high or low when s/he moves?" I asked her as we both looked at the machine blinking the baby's heart rate and graphing it.
"High," she answered.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because it's like it's running."
Well, high it was, up to 170 something. All was good alhamdulillah but I don't think S is going to come and stay with me for the upcoming non stress tests I have to undergo every week from now. Half an hour seemed to be too long for her as she kept reading the time off her watch to me.
They've been leaving me home alone lately, claiming that they like to pray at the masjid than at home.
"When the baby's here inshaallah, are you still going to leave me?" I asked them.
"No," they chorused.
"I want to play with the baby."
"I want the baby to play soccer with me." Guess who said that one?
Well, we'll see. When the baby wakes them up at night, we'll see if they still want to stay home with me and the baby.
Time flies by so quickly. My firstborn is almost 10 and I'm having inshaallah my fifth. At the same time that I will probably be dealing with pre pubescent issues with S, I will also be dealing with infant, and toddlerhood issues with the baby if everything goes well inshaallah. What a way to look forward to my parenting milestones. Subhanallah.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Up the Walls
I have been eyeing the kitchen walls for a long time. Three pairs of grubby little hands have made their marks and I keep telling myself,
"I need to get that scrubbed soon," but of course I never did.
I frequently scrub down the fridge, washer, dryer, stove hood, and oven door but not the walls. To see something smudgy turn clean is truly therapeutic, so today I thought I would save myself some therapeutic exercise and pass it down to those grubby little hands.
"S, why don't you guys use that dish rag and scrub down the walls. You see here, where there are smudges and compare that to the area that is clean? I want it to be all like that. Can you guys do that? I'm going to take a nap."
S started, then H followed.
"Wow! Masyaallah! Look at that! It's clean! It's like before and after! Isn't it nice to see it turn clean?" I exclaimed, partly a natural surprised reaction and partly as an encouragement for them to keep doing it.
I shouldn't have worried for pretty soon after, all three of those pairs of grubby hands were scrubbing down the walls, heater, windows in the house! At one point they were actually fighting over who would scrub the windows.
Ahhh.....good little workers who have finished their school early today. What a reward for finishing school early.
Maybe by the time I wake up from my nap, the house will look like new.
"Ummi, can we do the beds?"
Well, they might be taking this a little too far. I hope they don't scrub me down while I'm napping.
"I need to get that scrubbed soon," but of course I never did.
I frequently scrub down the fridge, washer, dryer, stove hood, and oven door but not the walls. To see something smudgy turn clean is truly therapeutic, so today I thought I would save myself some therapeutic exercise and pass it down to those grubby little hands.
"S, why don't you guys use that dish rag and scrub down the walls. You see here, where there are smudges and compare that to the area that is clean? I want it to be all like that. Can you guys do that? I'm going to take a nap."
S started, then H followed.
"Wow! Masyaallah! Look at that! It's clean! It's like before and after! Isn't it nice to see it turn clean?" I exclaimed, partly a natural surprised reaction and partly as an encouragement for them to keep doing it.
I shouldn't have worried for pretty soon after, all three of those pairs of grubby hands were scrubbing down the walls, heater, windows in the house! At one point they were actually fighting over who would scrub the windows.
Ahhh.....good little workers who have finished their school early today. What a reward for finishing school early.
Maybe by the time I wake up from my nap, the house will look like new.
"Ummi, can we do the beds?"
Well, they might be taking this a little too far. I hope they don't scrub me down while I'm napping.
Changes needed
It was a battle between mother and daughter, that's for sure. She had to change some stuff because the colors were not in great contrast such as it would impede reading. Here is the final product:
I have to admit. I think her green is more appealing than my white.
I have to admit. I think her green is more appealing than my white.
Monday, February 26, 2007
N's Seats of Scholars Flyer
N finally got the chance to do a flyer for Seats of Scholars. So far H has been hogging the flyer-making, so now it's her turn.We've been moving along quite nicely with regards to OHVA alhamdulillah. I expect us to finish by March insyaallah.
H and N now read half a page of the mushaf in 5 minutes and the recitation is much much smoother, Masyaallah.
I had posted this post when N and S came back from the masjid with their Abi.
"Your flyer, N. Do you think it looks nice?" I asked her.
She shook her head.
"No, I don't like the red," she replied.
I never expected a negative response. Well she is one tough cookie to deal with when it comes to art. She has to have her way. Reminds me of someone else I know only too well. So I told her,
"Ok, just change the colors, don't move anything or change the size. I spent a long time fixing it."
She fiddled with it.
"How's that green, Ummi?" she asked me, after changing the Seats of Scholars font color to dark green.
"No,"I said.
She fiddled once more. Finally she's done. This is what she came up with. Looks like she managed to assert her green in there despite my protests. Oh, well I did tell myself I'd let her do the flyer this time. Quell that urge to fix it! Quell it!
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
A Piece of Cake!
S attended a cake decorating class every Tuesday for 6 weeks. For the last week, the teacher said she was supposed to bring a frosted cake to class and that they were going to decorate it with a Valentine theme.
S had told me, "We can make the cake on Sunday.""Good idea," said hubby.
However, that weekend, she forgot to remind me and as for me, of course I don't remember. So came Tuesday, we had to do it last minute as I was busy trying to finish off the lessons for the day. When we did start baking, it was too late. She baked the cake herself mostly. The frosting didn't turn out good either. I made two batches and both ended up in the trash. It was a frustrating and tiring day for me and poor S, I finally told her,
"You're not going to the class since your cake is not even done yet."
She complied with no complaints. However, it was probably due to my snappy nature that day.
As I got over the frustration, I thought,
The wisdom behind it is, they were going to decorate the cake with a Valentine theme anyway.
When S told me they were going to do that, we knew what she was supposed to do: decorate it anyway she liked, but not with a Valentine theme. One thing I notice about S is, despite her being so quiet around other people, when it comes to the deen, she does speak up. Alhamdulillah. In her writing class, the teacher said that everyone will do something with a Christmas theme. S went up to the teacher and told her she doesn't celebrate Christmas. This coming from a girl who wouldn't speak otherwise.
So she didn't go to the class and it was the last class too. Nevertheless, I told her that the next day she and her siblings can decorate the cake on their own. That they did, and what a great job they did too, masyaallah! I was actually surprised how well S wrote with frosting (because from experience I know it takes quite a while to master) and even N and H wrote their own names on the cake. For first timers, they did pretty good, even better than some adults in fact. Alhamdulilah.
So, have a slice o' cake, will you?
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
A snapshot of the Days of Our Lives
Fajr:
Zuhr
Asr
Maghrib
Isya
In my haste to finish their syllabus as soon as we can, I am no longer picking up the phone during the day(which I shouldn't be doing in the first place anyway). My whole day is spent sitting in front of the computer. It's hectic, hectic, hectic but insyaallah worth it. It gets especially hard because the days are short. It gets harder for me too as time progresses. The hardest part is the Quran, because one kid takes up so much time and patience that I'm usually drained of those by the time I have to move on to the other kid. For now, I am focusing on H. I have to do something about N. S alhamdulillah is with her father after Fajr. How will I cope post-baby?
Laa yukallifullahi nafsan illaa wus'ahaa.
May Allah make it easy. Ameen. Inna maal usri yusra. Inna maal usri yusra.
- Wake S up for Fajr.
- S most times do Quran/memorization with hubby
- Breakfast
- 8:30 : school starts
- juggle between 3 kids - some major juggling here
- 12:30: lunch (if no food cooked, major pain - my menu planning has gone down the drain)
Zuhr
- S & N pray, not H.
- sometimes Quran with N, sometimes H too
- continue with school
Asr
- SNH pray.
- sometimes Quran with H, and a session on Luqman
- sometimes continue school
- sometimes rushing for the extrcurricular classes
- sometimes or most times have to cook
Maghrib
- SNH pray
- sometimes rush to masjid for their Quran classes
- H gets ready to go to masjid with hubby for Isya if there are no Quran classes after maghrib
Isya
- S&H pray
- come home from masjid
- sometimes if didn't have time to eat dinner before Maghrib, eat dinner after Isya
- sometimes do surah for N
- get ready for bed
- clean room
In my haste to finish their syllabus as soon as we can, I am no longer picking up the phone during the day(which I shouldn't be doing in the first place anyway). My whole day is spent sitting in front of the computer. It's hectic, hectic, hectic but insyaallah worth it. It gets especially hard because the days are short. It gets harder for me too as time progresses. The hardest part is the Quran, because one kid takes up so much time and patience that I'm usually drained of those by the time I have to move on to the other kid. For now, I am focusing on H. I have to do something about N. S alhamdulillah is with her father after Fajr. How will I cope post-baby?
Laa yukallifullahi nafsan illaa wus'ahaa.
May Allah make it easy. Ameen. Inna maal usri yusra. Inna maal usri yusra.
Improvements
Alhamdulillah I see improvements in the kids' Quran reading/recitation. When we first started out it took a painful half to one hour for N or H to finish reading half a page of the normal mushaf. It was really painful, especially with N's very soft voice. It was as if she was hoarding gold in there.
Her voice is still soft but at least her reading is a lot faster and smoother. Now it takes her about 10 minutes to read half a page, and H 5 minutes to read half a page.
As for her voice, I am forcing both her and S to recite louder, even to the point of tears, because mumbling really doesn't help. H on the other hand, has been transformed by AM. Hubby said AM has probably given up telling the girls to read louder. So it seems I have to take matters into my own hands if I want the girls' tarteel to improve. They need to recite louder. Here is where I can be a mean teacher.
Everyday, Surah Luqman is on H's To Do list. SOmetimes I only do review and sometimes I help him memorize a new ayat. That takes painfully long to do too; from half an hour to 45 minutes for one short ayah. Today, he is reduced to crying. I made sure he got it before letting him go, despite the crying, so he could feel a sense of accomplishment, rather than being let go when he couldn't do it, which in itself could send a wrong message or plant the wrong conditioning.
"You have one a half more page to finish the surah, H," I said to him.
I still remember him reciting a part of the ayah he was having trouble with in his sleep when he was (I think) doing Mutaffifeen. He was on the couch, working on it when he fell asleep. We were stil in the living room, going about our business when all of a sudden he recited the ayah he was having trouble with, but his eyes were still closed. It stopped me right in my tracks and for a while I thought he was awake, but he went on sleeping after that short recitation.
Now, he keeps reciting, "Inna shirka la zulmun adheem," as part of his daily self chatter.
What a character. Who would have thought this baby of mine whom we had dubbed 'German-speaking' due to his unintelligible babyish babble would recite the Quran so nicely now, even when he couldn't pronounce the American R. Alhamdulillah. I guess I don't care if he cannot ever pronounce the American R as long as he can recite Quran well.
May Allah preserve His Kalaam in this boy's heart. Ameen.
May both hubby and I be clothed with clothes of Jannah for raising a son/daughter/s hafidh. Ameen.
Her voice is still soft but at least her reading is a lot faster and smoother. Now it takes her about 10 minutes to read half a page, and H 5 minutes to read half a page.
As for her voice, I am forcing both her and S to recite louder, even to the point of tears, because mumbling really doesn't help. H on the other hand, has been transformed by AM. Hubby said AM has probably given up telling the girls to read louder. So it seems I have to take matters into my own hands if I want the girls' tarteel to improve. They need to recite louder. Here is where I can be a mean teacher.
Everyday, Surah Luqman is on H's To Do list. SOmetimes I only do review and sometimes I help him memorize a new ayat. That takes painfully long to do too; from half an hour to 45 minutes for one short ayah. Today, he is reduced to crying. I made sure he got it before letting him go, despite the crying, so he could feel a sense of accomplishment, rather than being let go when he couldn't do it, which in itself could send a wrong message or plant the wrong conditioning.
"You have one a half more page to finish the surah, H," I said to him.
I still remember him reciting a part of the ayah he was having trouble with in his sleep when he was (I think) doing Mutaffifeen. He was on the couch, working on it when he fell asleep. We were stil in the living room, going about our business when all of a sudden he recited the ayah he was having trouble with, but his eyes were still closed. It stopped me right in my tracks and for a while I thought he was awake, but he went on sleeping after that short recitation.
Now, he keeps reciting, "Inna shirka la zulmun adheem," as part of his daily self chatter.
What a character. Who would have thought this baby of mine whom we had dubbed 'German-speaking' due to his unintelligible babyish babble would recite the Quran so nicely now, even when he couldn't pronounce the American R. Alhamdulillah. I guess I don't care if he cannot ever pronounce the American R as long as he can recite Quran well.
May Allah preserve His Kalaam in this boy's heart. Ameen.
May both hubby and I be clothed with clothes of Jannah for raising a son/daughter/s hafidh. Ameen.
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