Shifaa and Jiddu

I love how this little kid constantly remembers my baba at random moments.  Like the other day when she said, "Giddu wahashni aweeee!"  Or the day she said, "Sumayya, right Giddu 3agooz wa tita shabaab?" hahaha, this is how he used to always joke, and the little kiddo understands his sense of humor....


A few days ago, Sumayya asked me to make her some tea (herbal tea).  Shifaa chimed up, "I want 2irfa bil-laban (I want cinnamon and milk)."  I questioned her (everytime she says something about baba, i question her to see what she's thinking.  I want to hear more,) "Why? How do you know 2irfa bil-laban?"

Shifaa: "Giddu used to drink 2irfa bil-laban.  Remember?  One time he told me, 'Shifaa, come and taste this (ta3ali du'ee).'" 

I laughed.

She asked for it with cold milk b/c the little kiddo doesn't like warm milk, very particular with her taste.  I gave her some.  She said she couldn't taste the cinnamon.  I told her it had to be warmed up.  She allowed me to warm it.  Then tasted it and said, 'I don't like warm milk,' and left it.  Sumayya ended up finishing it. 

That was all fine with me.  I'm happy she refreshed a memory with me. 

ShibShib

I was cleaning out the old apartment's bathroom cabinet and came upon an old pair of flip flops.  Laughed and had to share with Saif. Baba would come over and insist on knowing why I didn't have a pair of sandals/flip flops for the bathroom. That was one place he HAD to wear flip flops.  During one of his visits, he brought me a special pair of old flip flops lying around the house.  As soon as he left that day, I stored them in that bathroom cabinet.  On his next visit, he opened the bathroom door and exclaimed, "Feen il shibshib?"
Lol, this was a while later, so I had forgotten about them, and he had expected to see them lying there, as they had been a while ago.  I couldn't remember where I had stored them, so he went back to the living room and borrowed Saif's crocs.  Allah yirhamak Baba.  Love you and miss having you walk around my house.

With Every New Step

I guess with every new step we take in our lives we'll miss Baba all over again.  Two days ago I moved into a new place... And I missed Baba all over again.  I wanted him to come excitedly and check it out, to comment on the location, what it looked like.  To go up and down the stairs and tell me what he thought.  I woke up in the middle of the night really missing you and wishing to have you in this tiny new stage in my life baba.  Wishing for your comments and thoughts... Missing you, but know you are in a greater world than where we are now. 

Love,
Fatima

Trader Joe's Guy

I was shopping with Shifaa in Trader Joe's today when one of the Morroccan/Algerian clerks smiled and waved at me from afar.  "How's the Hajji?" he asked. 

With about five people between us, I just smiled, shook my head and moved towards him. "Alhamdulillah." 
"I haven't seen him in so long," he said, with a smile and a perplexed look on his face. 
"He passed away," I said, and teared up. 
"SubhanaAllah." He was silent for a bit.  "When?" 
"Four weeks ago." 
"When?"  He scratched his head and asked again.
"October 2nd."
He was silent for a bit and shook his head.  "I only knew him for a short while, bas kaan 3zeez 3la al qalb.  3athamaAllahu ajrakum." 
I couldn't stop the tears, said thank you and moved away. 
SubhanaAllah Baba.  People are still asking about you.  You touched everyone's lives.  CVS store clerks and Trader Joes' salesmen.  May Allah accept from you and keep these people remembering you and making duaa' for you.
A smile here, a greeting there, a minute to converse with these people who you didn't know as anything but Muslim.  You searched for them, read their nametags, asked them where they were from and picked your brethern out from the crowds.  May Allah accept. Love.

fatima

Salaam Baba

I've been dreaming about you during these last few weeks... Nothing that I believe is significant.  But I'm always thinking about you.  And for some weird reason, each time, we know you're going to die, but you're alive at that moment, and we hug and are happy.

This last time you finally looked healthy.  Not thin and frail like you did in your last couple of months, like I saw you in my first two dreams.  Maybe your memory is getting farther from my mind, and that's why I'm not seeing the real you.  But the real you is alive inside of me.

Last time you actually came back from death.  Ridiculous, I know.  But in the dream everyone told us it could never happen, but it did.  And you were alive, after being gone for a couple of hours in the hospital, alive, sitting in your bed, and having a regular conversation with mama and I.  Except that it wasn't that regular.  It was one of our discussions, again, about having visitors.  Again, mama wanted to keep everyone at bay, but you and I wanted to give people a chance to come in and say their good byes to you.  Weird, but that's what I dreamt.  And in the dream, I knew something wasn't normal, but it was real to me, and possible.  And I was happy to see you talking and in full health.

I miss you so much baba.  I'm so sorry I didn't give you more of myself.  Allah yirhamak.  I ask Allah SWT to accept you with the saaliheen and to grant me the chance to meet with you in the highest station in Jannah.  You pushed yourself to the utmost, and I plan to take a little bit of your energy and channel it into my daily life.  I haven't reached your determination, but I thank you for giving me a push, with your death.  Allah yirhamak.  Miss you.

fatima

Today

I didn't think I could still cry, but today I thought of my father on my drive to my daughter's class, and I cried.  I cried because I had hope that I wasn't totally a bad daughter.  I hugged him whenever I saw him.  I tried.  But my life has been a life of regrets this week.  I wish I spent more time with him. I wish I took him with me on more trips.  I wish I took more pics of him, more videos, captured more moments.  I wish I conversed with him.  I wish I lived on my knowledge that he wouldn't be with me for much longer.

I knew it was his last Ramadan with me. I knew he didn't have much longer with me.  I knew he was slowly dwindling away in front of me.  But I did not act on it.  What is wrong with me? What is wrong with humans?  When does knowledge become action?  When do we turn thoughts into behaviors?  It's a learning experience for me.  I'm trying to not just be regretful, but to churn it into something useful. 

He used to pray in the middle of the night when he was so tired.  Fast during the days of Ramadan when he was already malnourished and weeks from dying.  Read Qur'an after fajr when a few winks of sleep would've felt so good.  Go to the masjid for Fajr prayer when he was so dizzy he could hardly drive.  Make tayammum and pray when he was on his death bed and hardly cognizant of what he was saying or doing.  Allah yirhamuh.  That's his legacy to me.  To keep on driving when I want to quit, when I want to sleep, when I want to rest.  My time for sleep will come, but now is my time for action. 

Truly I hope that he has rested in his final sleep.  I miss him so much, and I wish and I wish and I wish, but I shouldn't.  I'm a believer, and I know that my Lord's call is the true call, and his decrees are an article of belief for me.  O Allah, let me grow closer to You in my museeba.  Let me pray for him and meet him again where he is happy to see me, and not embarrassed of my end.  Allahumma ighfir lahu warhamhu ya rabba3alameen. 

Kids and Death

I'm not sure if I followed the right steps with giving my kids the full picture of death, but I let them visit my father in the hospital in his last days, and we let them kiss him good by when he was breathing his last breaths and looked so different than they ever knew him.  We let them say good bye after he'd been washed and was in his kafan.  We did not take them to the burial, but we took them with us yesterday when we visited his grave to say salaam.

They've said things that show they understand his passing, although they might not fully understand it.  Shifaa has said, 'Giddu can't move, he's lying in the box, under the ground, he can only hear us. I miss him, he bought me the video Al Jarra..." 

But today she said something that almost made me cry.  She told my brother, "Where are you going to sleep when Giddu comes back?"  She repeated it twice, not realizing that he isn't coming back.  Allah yirhamuh wa yijama3na beehi filjannah...

Baba Passed Away Oct 2nd

We spent a week in the hospital after my father was admitted on Sept 24th.  It was an agonizing week, and every time I tried to think of possibly writing down his progress, I couldn't.  By Wednesday, I couldn't read, write or think while I sat with him in the hospital.  I was so worried about him.  I want to come back and record as much as I can but in the meantime, here is a quick timeline.

• Friday: Admitted in ER. 
• Saturday: Test after test run.
• Sunday: Seen by a couple docs (Primary Care, Cardiologist, Nephrologist, GI doc and finally, at evening time, oncologist). Up to this point, everyone was saying it was the lymphoma and they couldn't start treating him until the oncologist decided what to do.  We were worried crazy, that they'd just leave him to the lymphoma to choke him up.  The oncologist finally came on Sunday evening, 48 hours after baba was admitted, and turned the tables on us.  It's an infection of the liver, Hepatitis B, that's doing all this.  The lymphoma is in 3rd or 4th place. Even if  you don't treat it for another 3 months while you get the liver in order, you're fine.  Some hope for us!
• Monday: nothing new.  Some albumin to bring down edema.  Didn't do anything. 
• Tuesday:  baba is still walking to the bathroom, although it's a struggle, nothing has changed and they haven't given him anything new that we know of.  Stupid primary care doctor tells us, "You want to start chemo now when you've waited for four years?!" (she said this sunday, actually).  Baba tells a physical therapy doctor friend of his, "It's getting harder," when he asks how he's doing today. *tears*
• Wednesday morning: Asks us to bring his bills for the month. We spend an hour and a half with him fully alert telling us what to do, where to write the bill, how to balance the check book, etc.  He tries to move himself up in bed, but his body has become so heavy, he's unable to adjust himself in bed.  He asks to use bathroom, and we tell him to wait it out, let his body rest (*tears* little did we know he wouldn't be able to get up on his own after this). 
• After this my mom, sister and kids leave.  Baba starts praying, but towards end of the prayer, he slips into a sleep that is weird.  He's sitting up, his eyes roll up into his head and he stays that way for twenty minutes.  I start crying and balling and can't control myself.  He finally falls asleep with his eyes closed and stays that way for a couple hours.  I don't know why, but my heart feels something ominous and I can't concentrate on reading Qur'an, going online, doing anything.  
• A nurse/something comes to the door a few hours later and tells me that Nakka (the primary care) has told me about the new plan to move baba to ICU.  What?! I just saw her and she mentioned nothing.  I ask her if we have a choice in this, and she tells me that usually a doctor does what she sees fit.  I tell her that I want time to think about this.  I start calling my siblings, balling, and texting my father's doctor.  I see it as the end. ICU reminds me of how I saw Amu Bashir Allah yirhamuh.  Nakka calls me and tells me that baba is slipping and he needs this.  I don't like listening to her. My siblings tell me to move baba.  Mama starts wailing and saying this is the end and she called Muh and my great aunt to tell them to come b/c baba is dying.  I didnt' realize she would face reality. The GI doctor (a family friend) tells me that it's not the end, there's hope, they started him on hepatitis medicine and if it reaches the point of no hope, he'll let me know.  I get a bit of hope, put on a strong face and tell my dad that they're moving him to ICU, and inshaAllah it'll be temporary till he gets better.  He says, "No, I don't want to be moved. There are no private bathrooms there."
• Ammu Dawood arrives, alhamdulillah, after I text him that baba is doing worse and hangs out with us while they move baba to CV-ICU (b/c they didn't have beds in medical ICU).  It's good to have someone there during this time.  Baba can't move at all by this time.  But I now have some hope b/c of the GI doc's words.
• During quick moments when Abu Hamda was moving baba to ICU, he ordered NPO (no food or drink).  I questioned this.  He told me baba  is becoming more encephalatic, and they feared he'd forget how to swallow and choke on water or food, which would be dangerous.  I know he is not at  that point yet, and am angry.
• He's not allowed to drink or eat anything, not even put on an IV for next 20 hours.  Only ice chips.  Poor baba.  He can't understand why, neither can we.  After this, he completely loses his appetite. 

• Thursday:  A few docs come in and say baba's liver and kidney numbers are a little down (good thing) although still abnormally high.  We have greater and greater hope.  Alhamdulillah. It'll be a long road to recovery, but it'll happen.  Then a critical care doctor comes in and tells baba to his face:"You don't have much longer to live."  This is the first doctor to say it.  Baba takes it to heart, and maryam feels a need to let baba know that all those doctors know nothing and he will get better.  Baba says, "So why is he telling me that I'll die?"  Baba starts giving us his wasaya.  Maryam and I tell him, you'll be fine.  We don't give him much of a chance to think it out and tell us.  He reminds us to pick up his last check from his work, but we don't want to deal with the ppl who fired my father and expect him to walk in from his deathbed to sign a check before they give it to him.  Baba insists.  We take the number of the HR guy down.  
• Baba is talking clearly today when the stupid doctor walks in. We complain of the NPO (no food rule) and they allow him to have clear liquids and then start increasing his diet.  He drinks and eats a bit.  But by end of day, stops wanting anything. 
• Muhammed arrives.  Baba calls Saif, Mo and I and starts giving us wasaya.  "Lama yigee il wafaah...".  He's seriously thinking of this doctor's words.  I want to hear what he has to say.  I don't know if it will affect his spirits.  he talks a little and then Saif reminds him that he needs to record everything and to put my mom's name on house deed in order for it to be approved in Virginia.  
• Baba has a great nurse who picks him up and puts him on a bedside commode every time he expresses the need.  He's exhausted after the effort.  
• During one of these moments, a nutritionist comes and asks me what baba likes to eat.  She tells me that his most recent weight is 109 lbs.  I'm shocked.  
• They start him on a clear liquid diet and progress.  But baba has lost his appetite and wants no more than  a few sips of water, and what we beg him to swallow.  
• Thursday looks like a better day.  The doctors tell us that numbers are better. Maybe things will slowly improve. 
• 6 pm rolls around and baba asks me to put in his hearing aids.  "People start visiting at this time," he says cheerfully.  I want to cry.  At 6:30 they'll close the doors for visiting and he'll be left alone again.  *tears*.  
• 8 pm nurse comes in and starts asking routine questions, "What's your name? DOB? Where are you?"  I hate it when they do this, and baba has rebelled in the past.  Today he answers, a little sheepishly, taking a few seconds longer.  She tells him it's ok, if you don't know, I'll help you along.  I want to cry. 
• When she leaves, he calls me to his side and asks me to recite Al Fatiha.  I laugh a bit. "Al Fatiha?"  I'm thinking my typical response to Baba's silly questions, 'O, Baba.'  But not today.  I get alarmed, and realize something different is happening.  I put my hand on his forehead, feel his dried skin and the blood pulsing so strongly through his head.  I read Al Fatiha.  Then he asks me to recite Al Ikhlas.  I'm still racking my brains trying to understand what he wants.  Maybe he wants to hear the evening athkar.  So instead of Ikhlas, I start reading Ayat Al Kursi.  He stops me, "No, Al Ikhlas."  I read it, keeping my hands on his beloved head.  Then he says, "Read me a rak'a from prayer."  I start freaking out b/c he's used words that don't really make sense.  He insists and says it again.  So I start reciting what we say when we make ruku'.  This is what he wants.  I figure that perhaps I am leading him in prayer, and start reciting the rest of what we would say in prayer.  Once I finish the sujood recitation (or was it tashahud?) I start doing it all over again, completing the second rak'a of prayer.  But he stops me.  "That's it," he motions.  "Shukran."
• I walk out of the room shaken to my core.  He's losing his memory and he realizes it.  He's testing himself.  He has a glimpse of what it's like not to know what you're saying.  He's reassuring himself he still remembers salah.  My siblings and tens of visitors are waiting in the waiting room, laughing, conversing.  I can't stand it.  "Go lead baba in prayer now, Saif.  He's waiting for you."  I'm scared.  The doctors have been hinting that he'll lose his cognizance, but seeing it with my own eyes is so hard.
• I go home Thursday night happy that I get one more weekday with my father, by myself.  
• to be contd'.
• 8 pm visitors start coming in droves.  Baba is tired, but smiles and tries to say a few words.  He keeps on talking in

Allah Yishfeek Baba

My dad is critically sick, and we're waiting.  Some days it looks good and there's hope and this is another bad episode and things will get better.  And then quickly a doctor with no etiquette or feeling will come in and dash all hope...

Going From Rich Health Insurance to Being of the Uninsured.

My father has two Masters' degrees and was on his way to receiving his Ph.D over 30 years ago when he lost funding and stopped in the middle of his studies.  He's a highly educated man who worked as an academic advisor for over 22 years with the same office. 
In July, he was laid off.  Just like that in a matter of minutes. "Today is your last day and here are your pay checks. Please collect your items."

How hurtful is that to someone who has worked in the same location/office for over 22 years?!  The indignity of it. 

Now, on to one of the side effects of losing your job- losing your health insurance.  He was given 6 weeks to decide if he wanted to continue with the same health insurance benefits and pay his own way ($1700 a month just for him,  $5000 total for him and his family; inconceivable amounts for a sick man who has no prospect of getting another job).  This is what COBRA is- a blessing if you have the income.  Baba would've continued with the best health insurance that anyone could've dreamed of. 

We thought it would be necessary to keep my father on this health insurance because of his lymphoma (cancer) and heart issues, but reality struck in and my father/brother decided to switch my father to my brother's insurance plan which would be much less.  Alhamdulillah for that benefit.

But for some weird technical reasons, my mom's insurance papers went through quickly and my father's stalled. We bugged my brother for days to call them and get it straightened out NOW b/c my chronically sick father was refusing to go to the doctor for any reason till he had his insurance papers in hand. 

Towards the middle of Sept, my father starting exhibiting serious symptoms that required a doctor's visit, but he brushed it aside.  When his eyes starting turning yellow, my sister insisted he had to see a doctor.  He agree, but not for his yellow eyes/skin, only for his bloody stools and only to a doctor friend of his who might charge us a lower office visit bill. 

That doctor wanted us to go to ER immediately, but baba resisted b/c of the insurance. I texted my brother and asked him to call his insurance and aggressively demand coverage for a month in which we'd applied much earlier.  The next morning we took my father for a CT scan and blood tests to be paid for out of pocket.  The doctors decided it was an emergency and we really had to go in. We were ready for it, and prepared my father for it.  On our way there my brother called and told us that the insurance would cover this month, alhamdulillah.

But oh, the woes of the uninsured in America.  To have to wait till you're absolutely sure that your body has reached the point of an emergency to seek medical care... Never wanting to be charged thousands for only a possibility...

Expecting

I'm expecting my third child alhamdulillah. I hope I am not hurting the baby in any way b/c I think that I don't need to be as careful with my diet/prenatals as docs ask me to be.

On a side note, a couple months ago when I found out I was expecting, I had this weird feeling that Allah SWT was bringing in a child and taking away my father at the same time.  Only Allah knows the future, and I have stopped this thinking, but I always have this thing where I think if I have two of one thing, the first one will go away.  

Road Trip

So, I need to write a bunch of posts about our trip around the US... with two little ones, ages 4.5 years and 3 years, one of them just 2 weeks into her 2nd potty training foray...

Guess what?  It went WELL!  Alhamdulillah, we drove almost 7,000 miles, and it went wellllll....

Itinerary:

• April 1st: Drove from DC to Milwaukee, WI in 13 hours for a CAM conference. 2 nights
• Drove 10 hours to Oacoma, South Dakota. 1 night. 
• Drove 4 hours to Mt. Rushmore NP.  Lovely, was snowing lightly, had clear, fresh mountain air, saw a group of mountain goats....  (2 hours).
• Drove to Rawlins, Wyoming (6-7 hours).  By this point, it was blizzarding/freezing.... 
• Got up early the next morning and drove through a crazy, blinding blizzard to Zion, Utah.  Had more than one scare that we would be stopped due to highway closures and sent back to Wyoming, miss our Zion reservation.... But we barely made it out of the snow storm alhamdulillah.  (8 hours?)
• Zion, Utah!  Two nights. (or three?)
• Drove to Grand Canyon from there and spent three nights.  We met my bro, Muh., and his family there on the second day.  
• Drove from GC towards Houston.  First night spent in New Mexico.  
• Next morning drove to White Sands Natl Monument.  Had dinner that evening in El Paso. 
• Spent the night in Texas. Next morning drove down to Austin for a strawberry picking trip, then visit to Saif's second cousin, then to Khala Firyal's, then on to Houston. 
• Spent 5 nights in Houston.  The girls had a BLAST.  ABSOLUTE BLAST with their cousins alhamdulillah. 
• Drove 4 hours to Lousiana after that for a swamp tour. 
• Spent one night, then on to TN.  Stopped in Alabama for dinner at Fatemah's house. 
• Made it to Smoky Mountains next afternoon (after a cave tour in Chattanooga).  Spent two nights. 
• Then drove straight through, 8 hours, to good ole' VA and home. 

Three week road trip alhamdulillah in 2010. 

Story of Mus'ab and Kids' Anecdotes

I've been telling my 3 and 4 year old the story of Mus'ab ibn Umair recently and they love it subhanaAllah. 
And to make things relevant, they've started incorporating him in their everyday jargon!

Shafshouf's last couple of comments:

today:  Me: "Shifaa, go get your brush so I can brush your hair.  You need to look neat before you go out to Juma'ah (and always!)."

Shifaa: "But Sayyidna Mus'ab didn't comb his hair..."

Me: ?@#($&$&%^  "Yes he did."

Shifaa: "What color was his comb?"

and yes, i did answer that. i told her it was probably brown or beige, the color of wood or rock or bone (which i didnt mention), b/c that's what they used to make combs out of back then.


And the other day while I was telling them his story (for the nth time), I mentioned the part where his mother would imprison him in his room, and tie him down so he wouldn't be able to go out and associate with the Prophet (as) and the Muslims.  Shifaa's processing of this info?  "She put him in time-out."
Uh-oh! Is that what she feels like when she's in time-out?! lol. 

Scents- Fun Science for Preschoolers

So, I mentioned this book (More Mudpies to Magnets) in an earlier post.  I found this experiment in it, and my kids had an absolute blast with it. And we've only just finished part one.

Grab a bunch of food items from your kitchen, some wax paper, cups/containers, water, hammer, and cutting board.  For food items, we grabbed: celery, lemon, onion, basil, parsley, red pepper and a hyacinthus flower bud.  We sat on the floor and each child chose a food item, placed it in the piece of wax paper, and pounded it with the hammer. We then proceeded to scoop the item into a cup/container and to pour just enough water over it to cover it.  And that's it!  Tomorrow we'll do part two (something about guessing the food item from just the scent without the item in it).  But my kids both had a blast pounding, smelling, scooping... 
Alhamdulillah, it's a blessing to find a good, wholesome, interesting activity to do with them from items I have in my kitchen!  Wish I had my camera...

Science for 4 Year Olds: Magnets

This experiment actually works for kids of all ages, but it was great with my four year old.  I put together a whole bunch of super-random items that could/couldn't be magnetic.  The list included scissors, nails, parts from a screwdriver, screws, coins (from america and around the world!), paper clips, pine cone, plastic cap, metal baby spoon with covered plastic end, etc.

And then I gave her a medium sized magnet and let her hypothesize what she thought would be attracted to the magnet and what she thought wouldn't be.  She had a blast discovering unexpected things.  Like that the sparkly marble wasn't magnetic.  Her hypothesis was that anything sparkly/lustrous was iron/steel.  I thought that was interesting.

And then there were a few things that took even me by surprise.  Like the fact that a nickel is not attracted to a magnet, but an Jordanian coin is.  Interesting, wonder why?  And the fact that the magnet will stick to the plastic cap if a paper clip is under it.  Neat!  And the plastic coated baby spoon that stuck to the magnet from both ends!

A fun extension to this experiment is to tie a string to a paper clip, and let your child hold the string/clip over a magnet and watch it twirl and dance, feel the magnetic force...

Sadness, Depression and Musa (as)

I was sitting at home yesterday, the third day into our Snowmageddon 2010, the third day of not really talking to anyone but my two little ones.  (My hubby is away on a business trip).  And I tend to get a bit sad, depressed when I'm alone like that, but alhamdulllah I've been holding up fairly well this storm.  Last night, I was trying to memorize some lines from Surat al Qasas, and read over the story of Prophet Moses (as) when he was in the utmost point of sadness, loneliness and depression that a person could be in.  He'd just heard news that the tyrant of Egypt had issued an 'arrest/assassination' warrant against him, he'd just left his country, his place of familiarity, he'd just left everything behind, and he felt bad, guilty, depressed over the man he had accidently killed.
He was in his utmost point of need, of being alone.  At that time, he reached out to Allah SWT, to his Lord, Savior, and Creator and said, "O Allah, save me from the wrong doing people."  And "O Allah, I am truly needy  of what you have brought down for me of good."

The call out to Allah, in the middle of our darkness.  Reaching out with our hands and our needs to Him, and He answering our call instantaneously.  What better story to illustrate it for us than the story of Musa alayhisaalam, in his darkest hour of need, calling our to His Lord and Creator, and never holding back from striving for ihsan, for good in his actions.  Right in the middle of this depression, of this intense sadness, he got up, and went forth in action.  He saw the two young women in need of help with their sheep, and he came to their help, then turned back to his Lord for His help. 

Alhamdulillahi rabil 3alameen.

So Why is Baba Still At Work

Hubby is on a long-ish business trip, and we're stuck at home in the snow, alhamdulillah.  So yesterday, Shifaa asked me if our neighbors were at work (at 10 am in the blizzard).  I said matter of factly, of course not, everyone is home now. It's time to go to bed.
A few seconds of silence passed and then my three year old asked, 'So why is baba still at work?'

Aaaah.  my baby understands everything subhanaAllah and i really have to be careful of what i tell her and not dismiss her as a little kid.

Science for Kids

So, I noticed in my search engine that most of the hits I get to my blog is from an old post I had on an impromptu science experiment I designed for my then three year old.  I'll refer you to a couple of great books my sister in law referred me to:
Mudpies to Magnets by Elizabeth Sherwood and some others
and
More Mudpies to Magnets by the same authors.

and then for great activities:
Slow and Steady, Get Me Ready (activities for kids ages 0-5 years). 

Enjoy the wonders of seeing the world through the eyes of a child!

Kid's Eye View

There are so many blessings to being around a child.  It's as if Allah SWT not only wants to keep the human race going, but also to keep our wonder and interest in the world alive. 

I grew up hating the snow.  To me, it feels cold and slippery and I'm forced to stay locked in for days on end.  But subhanaAllah, this year has been different for me. I am now a mother of a four year old who is so eager to go out and enjoy the white snow and ice.  She forced me out this morning, into the DC area's 'Snowmageddon' of 2010; and I'm so happy she did.  I felt so refreshed out there.  It was so peaceful, and while I cleaned my car, I felt a rejuvenating spirit run through me.  It felt good, refreshing, serene.  No cars on the road, I could let my daughters play in the parking lot in peace.  I did my thing, and tried to uncover the mounds of white snow from my big, black car, and they did their thing in peace, sliding, packing, digging.  My chest feels full of fresh air, and now I'm home in warm, dry weather, ahamdulillah.  Wishing the hubby were here, is the only thing, but I suspect he's glad to be out of it.

tabtabi 3leeha

i had a moment about ten days ago, in the middle of the night where i imagined i heard one of my kids throwing up. sure enough, my older daughter came to my room and told me, "Mama, Shifaa bit-kuh.  Mahtagaki ti tabtabi 3la dahraha."  "Mama, Shifaa is coughing. She needs you to pat her on her back."
That erased my annoyance, and i got up to check on baby, who had indeed thrown up in the middle of the night, and laid her head in it.  I cleaned, and bathed, and laundered, and felt bad for baby who was still trying to wonder what that water that came up was.

Alhamdulillah, five days later, she's back to normal. Took much longer than I expected, but alhamdulillah for the blessing of health!

Note to Self

I need to stop yelling at my husband, especially in front of his parents.  This month I've done it two times too much, and apparently, it is the trigger that pulls hubby's anger.  I've never seen him angry at me before, but this time, I was able to pull it.  And I feel bad, b/c it was really bad behavior on my part that led to it.  All goes back down to having good khuluq, good manners.  It's what enters you solidly into Jannah, and its' absence is what leads to fights and social problems galore.

So, what is triggering my stupid behavior? Not sure, but I'm pretty sure I haven't been like this in the last 9 years of our marriage.  Sometimes I think he's more sensitive too... don't know. But I still shouldn't be losing my temper so easily.

And then yesterday, when I was trying to 'make' up with him and get him to talk to me, I was pushing him for a reaction. I couldn't figure out why I was mad, couldn't figure out why I wanted to find a fault with him.  He forgot that I don't like peanut buster parfaits.... wow, what a reason to blow up at him in front of everyone.  but it was more like, I was kind of joking (in a very weird way) and hoping he'd joke back, but he didn't.  And then when i was trying to apologize i was more importantly trying to find a reason in his actions for my actions. trying to blame him.  To at least put partial blame on him.   And so i cried and i used the card that i was cooking for your family and washing their dishes, etc.  how stupid of me. i told myself not to say that, b/c i'm not doing it for him or them, i should be doing it for Allah's pleasure.  I hope Allah doesn't blow all my ajr for saying that little line.  O Allah forgive me and allow me to be true to my feelings, not to overexaggerate, to be razeena in my words and actions.

My Resolutions

Yesterday was the first day of the new year, 2010.  And two weeks ago was the first day of the new year, 1431.  Yet it felt weird b/c I didn't feel any real excitement.  Just another day in the year.  But this is when people 'turn a new page,' and make new resolutions to change their lifestyle for the better.  Why doesn't this really ring with me?

Because I just went through two dramatic, life-changing training sessions in the last three months.  Twenty nine days of training during Ramadan and 14 intense days of all-day/all-night training during my once in a lifetime Hajj experience.  Those are the ultimate training sessions that really help you turn a wish, a resolution, a desire into a habit and a reality.  Twenty nine days of praying that extra sunnah, 14 days of temper control in a crowd of three million, ten nights of nightly prayers, twenty nine days of avoiding gossip...

Alhamdulillah.  Now, I'll just use this occasion to remind myself of those resolutions and renew my intentions and my will, with His help.