Parenting Thoughts

Parenting Lessons from the Qur'an- Experience

2012-01-01T19:05:00.000-08:00

My 9 month old son, Hasan, has reached the stage of the 'hot cup' tradition in our household. Once they become interested in reaching out and grabbing things, I have held each of my three children's hands and lightly let them touch my hot mug of tea. At the same time, I reinforce the concept of its being hot with the Arabic word for 'hot' and a sound that I make to indicate it is hot. It's my way of teaching my child, through hands on experience, a concept that I hope will protect them in the future.

I own a mus-haf (Qur'an) that includes meanings of Qur'anic words and random hadiths that relate to the verses I am reading. One of the hadiths that I came across a while ago and thought was so striking is one that relates a Qur'anic concept which not only condones a human's need for hands on experience but allows and more importantly reinforces that human need. There are at least three instances in the Qur'an that reinforce this concept and show the never ending mercy of Allah with us in this regard. It sets a great example for us as parents, when our gut reaction might be to say, "Because I told you so" when a child questions us on something. It shows us that it is an inherently human need to experience things with our own sight and physical touch, as opposed to learning about it through stories and lectures only. And more importantly, it shows us the infinite mercy and compassion of Allah SWT to treat us with such generosity when we question basic issues of faith.

In Surat al Baqara, we see the story of Prophet Ibrahim (pbuh), who asked Allah SWT to show him how he brings the dead back to life. Allah SWT questions him, 'Don't you believe?' Ibrahim replies, 'Yes, but just so that my heart is comforted.' And instead of condemning Ibrahim for a possible weakness, Allah SWT shows him physically how He is able to bring 4 birds back to life after Ibrahim has slaughtered them. O the infinite Kindness of Allah!

In another great example of hands-on experience, Musa (as) asks Allah SWT if he can see Him. Allah answers him that his physical senses will not be able to behold Allah's light, but He then goes on to show him this reality. When Allah reveals Himself to the mountain, it completely crumbles to dust, and Musa falls unconscience from the magnitude of the situation. He realizes what a great thing he has asked of Allah SWT and returns to Allah in forgiveness.
Again, these examples blow me away, not so much in that Allah SWT is showing us the human need for hands on experience, but more importantly, because He, in His Greatness, wants to comfort His messenegers hearts and faith, and does not condemn them for seeking a higher level of certainty (yaqeen). He doesn't condemn them for wanting to see with their own eyes what they hear with their ears and might even know with their hearts. And I for one, know that as a parent, this is one aspect that I need to work on with my children, and even with my spouse. I don't need to get angry and defensive when my child doesn't take my explanation for why she can't do something for granted. I need to spend more time explaining situations to her, more time allowing her to actually go outside and get cold without her coat on, more time to realize that if she

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I recently came upon a hadith that made me think about how the Qur'an addresses parenting issues in the most minute ways. This hadith dealt with the story of Musa (pbuh) in Surat al A'raf (verse 150) where Musa came back to his people and found them worshiping the golden calf. The Prophet (pbuh) said, "May Allah have mercy on Musa, (for) truly the one who experiences (with his own senses), is not like the one who (merely) hears (about an experience). His Lord informed him that his people had gone astray after him, but he did not throw down his books. Once he saw his people, and experienced (their sin) he threw down the books," Narrated by Ibn Abi Hatim. According to this hadith, Prophet Musa did not strongly react when he heard of his people's disobedience, because even though his mind knew, his heart did not feel it. Once he saw them in person disobeying Allah SWT, he angrily acted out, threw down his scrolls and proceeded to grab his brother, Haroon's, head and to pull him. As the hadith explains, nothing like some first hand experience to make you a believer.

Right before this story is narrated to us in Surat Al 'Araf, Allah SWT gives us another powerful example of the same lesson, a lesson on the inherent need of humans for personal, hands on experience. In verse 143 of the same Surah, we see Musa (pbuh) conversing with Allah SWT and asking him for the favor of seeing Him in His Majesty. Instead of rebuking Musa for this question, instead of humiliating him for making such a forward request, instead of merely dismissing him, Allah SWT tells Musa that his physical senses will not be able to behold Allah's light and then, He proceeds to allow Musa to experience this first hand. When Allah reveals Himself to the mountain, it crumbles to dust immediately, and Musa immediately loses consciousness. This story amazes me on so many different levels, most importantly in Allah Subhanahu wa ta'ala's patience with His servant's human need for personal experience, for hands on learning. As a parent, I can only walk away with great lessons on patience and forbearance from these examples.

In another classic example of this human need for first hand/hands on learning experiences, we see the story of Prophet Ibrahim (pbuh) in Surat Al Baqara when he asks Allah SWT to show him how he brings the dead back to life. Allah SWT questions him, 'Don't you believe?' Ibrahim replies, 'Yes, but just so that my heart is comforted.' Instead of condemning Ibrahim for a possible weakness, instead of rebuking him, instead of dismissing him, Allah SWT shows him physically how He is able to bring 4 birds back to life after Ibrahim has slaughtered them.

As a wife and mother, I need to walk away with many lessons from these stories. I need to walk away with a more forbearing attitude with my daughter when she questions my decisions. I need to walk away from controlling my husband's actions when he decides to something differently than I do. I need to let my infant son lightly touch the hot mug of tea in my hands to experience the heat coming from it, to realize that there is a reason I am not letting him play with it. I need to allow my preschooler daughter to question my knowledge, I need to allow her to experience first hand some of her mistakes and much more importantly, I need to do it with an open-heart and accepting attitude. I realize that many times it's much easier said than done, but what greater example can we have to follow than that of our Creator with His closest servants- Prophets Ibrahim and Musa (pbut).

Discovering Myself?

2011-11-18T04:12:00.000-08:00

I know, it sounds so tacky, but I need to write down things that I learn about myself so that I can help myself figure out what i like and what i want to do to develop myself inshaAllah.

I know that i'm pretty good at organizing events.
pretty good at marketing events/ideas/thoughts.
like working with youth.
ok/good at translating and have lots of experience with this.
good at navigating internet and using it.
good at playing competitive games with my kids (Spot It!)- this is important b/c i've been trying to find ways that i can do quality, fun time with the kids, and i feel bad that i'm not really into the craft scene.
i can read Qur'an with tajweed well alhamdulillah.
i'm not bad at reading and presenting on islamic topics, but i need a push. it's one of those things that i'd rather sit back and relax and not push myself to undergo the stress of it.

Trying New Things

2011-11-18T03:58:00.000-08:00

I can't say I'm on a roll yet, but for the last 4 mornings, I've woken up at 6/6:30 am, and stayed up for the rest of the day, and i LOVE my ME time. That's exactly what it is, I wake up, pray, and then sit and read a book in complete silence, without feeling like i'm ignoring a kid's needs. It's addictive and I can't get enough of it, and it ends too soon with (usually) Hasan waking up, or (today) Sumayya waking up with a loose tooth.

The only possible (downside) is that I can't stay awake past 9 pm, which i gotta work on. Esp when Saif stays up till 1, 2 and 3 am every night. But on an upside, I've actually made an effort to clean the kitchen up before I go to sleep the last 2-3 nights, and again, it's really difficult when you can't stay up, but it feels SO good after the fact. Props for that goes to my sis in law, Maha, who we just came back from visiting in Michigan.

And props for me waking up early goes to two 'things'. 1. ZenHabits blog (www.zenhabits.net)- who encourages early waking up and tells you to do ANYTHING you like to help you do it (props to Maha again for directing me to this site) and 2. the anything i like that helped me get up the first day or two.....WWF!!! That's Words With Friends, a scrabble type game on my Android. Thanks to Afnan for getting me hooked! I don't do this first thing in the morning anymore, but it helped get me to do it the first couple of days when I seriously needed a push.

My whole (motherhood) life, I've FEARED the idea of waking up early b/c I didn't think I'd have the energy to continue with my kids during the long day, but alhamdulillah, i'm doing well!!!!

And back to the final inspiration to stay on this course of waking up early: my ISLAM! which has always taught us that there is complete baraka in those early hours. Ya rabb, please help me stay the course and benefit from my early morning hours, with your thikr, praises and husn ibadah.

Mama Hekmat

2011-07-30T09:26:00.000-07:00

wish i could tell you baba that mama hekmat passed away, and console you and itrahham 3leeha together, but you and her are in it together now. I ask Allah SWT to bless her and gather her with all the good people, to accept her good deeds and mulitply them and to forgive her sins and overlook them. Ya Allah, ighfir laha warhamha wa anta khayrul rahimeen. Allahumma ameen.

July 22nd, 2011

2011-07-22T21:05:00.000-07:00

first july 22nd without my baba. Allah yerhamak. thinkin of deeja on this day, must be lonely for her.
had a short qiyam at the mascc and saw baba during his last ramadan standing there giving one of his last khawatir.
lots on my mind this ramadan, as baba vividly was a part of my memory last ramadan. will write more inshaAllah.

Where do Words Come From?

2011-07-11T20:07:00.001-07:00

Sumayya wants to know who named the animals with their specific names? ....

Who invented language? Was it when Allah SWT taught Adam the names of all things? Was that the teaching of the concept of speech and language?

Yellow Socks

2011-07-11T20:06:00.001-07:00

Yesterday Shifaa was visiting mama in the hospital. "Giddu Esam Allah yerhamu kaan laabi shurab abyad," she said as she noted Teta's white hospital socks.

The nurse noted that yellow socks denote that the patient is a fall risk....

Watermelon

2011-06-29T20:00:00.000-07:00

I was eating a watermelon a few minutes ago, and a pain washed over me. I remembered Tariq Dahmas's passing, and remembered how baba's appetite was taken away by the cold, unfeeling hospital staff and doctors who starved him to death when he had an amazing appetite, made him reach the point of not wanting a taste of anything within 5 days. Allah yakhudhum. They starved my father.

I still see the image of him gulping down that small, 4 oz bottle of Danone yogurt drink like a starving man, with no reservations, not even caring that we were all looking at him with shy eyes. He gulped it down like a starving man and wished for more. May you be swimming in a Paradise of sweet tasting, cool water ya Abi. May Allah take them for treating my father that way. Coming in the middle of the day, at 2 pm, and telling him not to eat anything or drink anything till the next morning so they could run a ct scan on him. And him muttering, 'la hawla wa la quwatta illa billah.' Another day of starvation for a man who was already down to 115 pounds. Another day of starvation, when he didn't need to. He could've done that stupid CT scan and have only fasted 8 hours before it, not 18. I hate them and the system for its cold hearted unfeelingness. And then, just three days later, we were begging him to take a spoon of soup, a sip of a drink. But he didn't care for food anymore. All he wanted was water. Irhamnee ya rab.

Tariq Dahmas Passed Away

2011-06-29T19:54:00.000-07:00

Allah yerhamuh. Saif and Muhammed's close childhood friend passed away yesterday at the age of 34 years from a brain tumor that took over his body. May Allah envelope him with his rahma ya rabb. My heart goes out to his family, his wife, his parents, his siblings, his best friends and everyone who was touched by him. I still hear his voice ringing in my ears from Saif's fone calls to him at random times, telling him of the latest prognosis. Allah yerhamu. He is now with his Creator.

Maryam is Engaged!

2011-06-13T07:19:00.000-07:00

alhamdulillah. been looking fwd to this day, and happy it's here, but defn worried for my lil sis. hope Allah gives her sa3ada in this life and hereafter. be happy maryam!

why worried? just always wondering if this is the guy that will be right for her. fear she looks for too much excitement in life and is too anal about marriage. Allah Kareem.

Scraps of Paper

2011-05-08T15:53:00.000-07:00

It's the little things that remind me of you; that i hold onto, in hopes of it triggering that memory, over and over and over again. I want to remember you; I want to remember every last moment of that week. I want to remember, and ponder, and tear up and hurt inside. I want my heart to feel; I want to remember you.

I want to remember you as i drive down the long empty highway. I want to think of you as i look into the horizon; the blue skies, the white clouds, the setting sun. I want to tear up and feel the ouch. I want to cry as i think of you, baba.

I dig into my pocket and pull out a piece of folded up paper, torn off of a master sheet. I'm taken aback; it's your insurance number, written in your handwriting. Or maybe it's mama's but you wrote it for me when i took her to an appointment, and i folded it up and put it in my pocket. Actually, it is your insurance number. That was the jilbab i wore on one of those short days i spent with you in the hospital. one of those last days. That note was written in your handwriting, your good, strong, solid penmanship. And I remember.

I remember the day before your passing, when you brought all your energy together, pulled together all your remaining wit, concentrated so so fully on signing your name, one. last. time. on that sheet of paper. that last will and testament that Muhammed and I just couldn't read out loud to you. Just couldn't. We tried. We passed it back and forth, each one of us thinking that he would be the one who could pull himself together. Reading two words and stopping as our voices shook and our eyes clouded over. The other one pulling the paper from the other, starting all over. And then you said, "Don't you know what it says? If it's good, then I'm find with it." And of course I cried more.

You summoned everything you still had to keep your thoughts straight, to stay awake, to think clearly in front of that notary public. You held your shaking hands steady, as steady as possible, and s l o w l y signed with that steady stroke- one. last. time. Esam. cursive, with the m stretc h i n g into a straight line that bent underneath into another line, a chair for the Abdallah. But that's where your energy dissipated and the Abdallah came out unsteady, almost gibberish, so unlike your beautiful handwriting. I cried. I still cry. thinking of how you signed every check of yours with such beauty. such itkan. perfection. pride. pride in your name, your father's name- your grandfather's name. beauty and pride.

and i hold on to that scrap of paper. it stays in my pocket for another day. another day when i will wear that jilbab once again, and absentmindedly stick my hand into that pocket, fingering a scrap of paper and wondering what it holds. Opening it up and bringing back a rush of memories. thinking, remembering, thanking God for that one more opportunity to remember, fingering it, and letting the mind roam.

fatima

Shifaa and Jiddu

2010-12-24T07:58:00.000-08:00

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

2010-11-05T14:37:00.000-07:00

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

2010-11-05T14:34:00.000-07:00

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

2010-10-29T20:24:00.000-07:00

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

2010-10-24T20:16:00.000-07:00

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

2010-10-12T20:12:00.000-07:00

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

2010-10-11T21:02:00.000-07:00

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

2010-10-09T07:36:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-27T15:46:00.001-07:00

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.

2010-09-27T15:45:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-27T15:33:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-15T19:40:00.000-07:00

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

2010-05-14T10:25:00.000-07:00

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

2010-02-11T21:07:00.000-08:00

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

2010-02-11T21:01:00.000-08:00

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)

2010-02-08T20:40:00.000-08:00

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

2010-02-08T20:31:00.001-08:00

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

2010-02-06T13:37:00.000-08:00

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

2010-02-06T13:32:00.000-08:00

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

2010-02-05T06:11:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-05T07:08:00.000-08:00

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

2010-01-02T08:04:00.000-08:00

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.

Hajj Chronicles III

2009-12-29T14:43:00.000-08:00

I loved my Hajj experience, alhamdulllah. I feel like Allah blessed me, beyond my imagination, and I hope to be forever a thankful slave.

I had the pleasure during my first Hajj experience to have a sheikh accompany our Hajj group and give us tidbits that were so on the spot, so perfect for Hajj. During our travel from Medina to Makkah, our sheikh told us something that stuck in my mind, 'Don't busy yourselves during tawaf staring at everything. Don't stare at the Ka'ba, don't stare at the skies around. But do stare at the people. Their faces will tell you stories...." And while he said this, a couple of the more experienced hujjaj around him shook their heads in agreement, with these moving, untold stories on their faces. And I wanted in on this. I wanted to see these stories in the faces of the hujjaj around me, making tawaf around the holiest of places.

And so I stared. I didn't need too much prodding to do it, from the first minute I arrived in the Holy Lands, I couldn't keep my eyes off the people. I was overwhelmed by the crowds around me, the people around me, the faces around me. I couldn't stop staring. Those first couple of days, I just couldn't keep my eyes in my Qur'an. I know that's not the best thing, but there is wisdom in Allah's creation, perfection in His creation, and it made me appreciate Him and His creation that much more.

And then I arrived in Makkah, and the stories that people's face told shook my heart, brought the tears to my eyes. Stories of struggle, love, dedication. Stories of pure servitude to Allah. Stories of His blessings on me. Stories of determination, sincerity. Stories of pure happiness and strength that came out of unknown sources.

There was that one young woman, a Southeast Asian, pushing a wheel chair with what I assumed was her husband and young toddler. It was hot, she was sweating and unshaded on the third floor of the Haram, and yet she was pushing her young husband and toddler, both bent over in deep sleep. I didn't know their story. I didn't know if she came to His house, asking Him to cure her seemingly healthy husband from some deathly disease. Pushing, praying, struggling to keep up her rites. May Allah reward her.

And then, the story of the old, African man, in ihram, struggling to make tawaf on the third floor of the Haram, through crowds that had already sat down in readiness for the upcoming prayer. He kept on stumbling over outstretched legs and folded laps, trying to finish his tawaf. And then he stumbled and a man ran up to him and screamed 'This is a mosque!' and pulled off his slippers... I couldn't stop the tears. I could stop the wrenching feeling that was overwhelming my heart. I couldn't help wondering how far this man had travelled, from which village or city. I couldn't help crying for him, perhaps leaving his family, his village behind for the first time. Seeing such crowds for the first time. Struggling to perform the Hajj in the most perfect way, all while perhaps being illiterate, or at least not having access to readily available sources on how to perform the Hajj.... How lucky I am, alhamdulillah. And for this, I must be forever a thankful servant.

And then, I was making sa'ee between the Mountain of Safa and Marwa during my tawaf il ifadah, the rite after which I would be considered a 'hajji', and could take off my state of ihram. I was walking, pretty tired out from a long walk to Makkah from Mina, from my tawaf and now my sa'ee. I was loving my physical state of ibadah. Appreciating the lessons of sa'ee, the state of remembering Him while I was exhausted to my bones, the state of appreciating Him while walking back and forth. And I approached the green lights, the distance within which it was sunnah for men to run. And I saw him. The man who served to move my heart to the core, to squeeze my heart and tears out. I saw an old, old man in ihram. Unable to walk without a walking stick. Unable to stand straight. And yet, he was running across that distance. Running, with a back bent at a 60 degree angle. Running with a walking stick held high in the air. And I couldn't help the tears. What love, what dedication, what sincerity to Allah SWT would move that man to run with his walking stick held high, with his back bent low?!

A couple of days later, in our farewell tawaf around the Ka'bah, I could almost swear I saw the same man again. But what is the possiblity of that?! What is the possiblity, that from three million hujjaj, coming from all over the world, from camps spread wide and forth around Mina, I would see that same man again?! We were bidding our farewell to the Ka'bah, with our final tawaf, on the third floor of the Haram, making thikr, remembering Him and asking Him. And I saw a man in front of me, doggedly making his tawaf on the third floor, the longest distance of tawaf. Determined, he was walking around with no wheel chair, on his own, with his long white beard flowing down, with his back bent at a 60 degree angle. And there was that walking stick, held up high off the floor, in determination to make that tawaf on his own, with no help from anyone or any thing. Walking, walking, walking for His sake. Praying for His strength, power, love and acceptance. Ya Allah, accept Him. He was walking in the crowds, but no one knew him. And yet, he did it lovingly for Your sake, for Your acceptance. Allahumma fa taqabbal.

Hajj Chronicles II

2009-12-29T13:52:00.000-08:00

It's the little things that people do, that have others praying for them, without them even realizing, and may be the reason they enter Paradise.

While we were sitting in the Haram in Makkah, on the third floor, I noticed people fidgeting in front of me, and then slowly I noticed the crowds flicking a large cockroach/cricket type bug around. When you're sitting in a crowd of a million, there's no place for this insect to go but onto another person. And so it got dangerously near me. And though I don't have a fear of insects, this one was pretty large, and I had no tissues on me to pick it up with. And so I ignored it, moved my feet and prayer rug around, and let it go on its merry way, bothering some other hajji.

A few seconds later, a young man came and picked up this insect with his own bare hands, to dispose of it God knows where. All I could do was pray for him. He had just saved one million other hajjis from discomfort; had helped save their concentration for prayer. May Allah reward him greatly. He did us all a favor and removed harm from his fellow Muslim's path.

Hajj Chronicles I - Kindess of a Stranger

2009-12-29T13:47:00.000-08:00

It started out when she smiled at me, so thankfully. It made me feel bad. Why was I so begrudging of this empty spot next to me? Why was I being so greedy with something that didn't belong to me. Why couldn't I just smile, graciously, when she asked me if there was any space next to me for her and her friend to pray in. Instead, I shook my head vigorously and mouthed, "No," and made the sign for 'one person' with my hand. Only one of you can come. And that, without a smile.

I was standing in the Haram, in the Holy Mosque, in Makkah. I was there for my first hajj, and my days were filled with love and worship. And yet, I had learned to fight for my spot when it was time for prayer. And that first day in Makkah, on the third floor, three rows back from the balcony overlooking the Ka'ba and the crowds, I was in bliss. But when I stood up to pray, I could only begrudgingly scoot over and make room for a sister. What scrooges we humans are.

A couple of days later, the crowds had swelled in Makkah, as more and more hujjaj arrived from Madina and from all over the world. I was continually being reminded by my sheikh to be patient, to flow with the crowd, to remember that I would be tested to my breaking point, and yet I must stand patient. And so I learned not to fight the crowds when one million of us were walking in every direction trying to get in for prayer. And I learned to let the crowd move me when prayers were over and we needed to head back to our hotel for sleep or food. And I learned to appreciate that most people around me were moving with the flow; weren't fighting it.

And then we tried to make it in for Maghrib prayer a couple of nights before Arafat. We were determined that within these 45 minutes, we'd make it in and not be praying outside our hotel lobby, or in the streets in front of the Haram. We struggled and walked and slipped through, but the only place that we could make it into was the basement of the Haram.

It was just minutes before Iqama, as we looked around for a spot. There were no spots. But if people just moved around a little, scooted their bodies over, I'd definitely make it in. So I headed for a relatively spacious line and asked a few women, in sign language, if I could pray next to them. 'No,' they vigorously shook their heads. I signed, 'Just move over a few inches and I'll be ok. ' Again, 'No. No room.'

I wasn't going to fight about it, so again, I started scanning the crowds for another possible line. But right then, a big, matronly woman from Mali, sitting right next to these women who had refused to move over for me, spoke to me. She waved her hands, 'Come over here, there's space.' And she scooted her self over and helped force me into that space. She then took my shoe bag from me and put it in front of her. I was unbelievably grateful to her. I was so thankful. I couldn't stop smiling. It felt so good to have this stranger save me from my wandering over outstretched legs and crowded spaces. And she had done it so graciously, with a smile, without me even asking her.

May Allah reward her. She made my Hajj. Not because she moved over for me when no one else would, not only because she did it without me asking her, not only because she did it so nicely, but because she taught me a lesson in kindness and generosity. These are the traits that Allah SWT wants us to have when He teaches us His names of Al Mannan and Al Kareem. You do good things. You do them generously, with a smile, with an open heart. You don't begrudge your daughter your time when she asks you for the umpteenth time to get her more milk. You don't begrudge your sister when you drive her out of your way because she doesn't have her car. You don't hold your friend up for a favor because you baby-sat her daughter. And you don't think you are generous because you moved over five inches for your sister to stand next to you, shoulder to shoulder, in prayer.

You remember His bounty on you for giving you that space, for giving you the ability to give it. O Allah, You are the Most Generous, the Most Kind. Give her more than I can ever give her and reward her for teaching me to be kind and generous with what I have.

Good Day

2009-12-29T13:22:00.000-08:00

Today, I had a good day alhamdulillah. And I want to share it with myself so that I inspire myself, reflect on what I did good, and keep it coming inshaAllah.

I actually started the day with a mistake, authu billah. I thought I had set my alarm for fajr, but I hadn't. So I missed fajr. And that's why I had some energy to get up at 8:30 when my daughters came a-visiting. The shaytan is a powerful force.

I got up with the little one, took her to the bathroom, and instead of coaxing her into bed with me, led her to the living room. We put on an exercise video (which I haven't done in ages!) and she ate her cereal. I took her out of her seat, dressed her, (while exercising, mind you!) and finished my video, alhamdulillah!!! That is something I have been meaning to start back up in so long.

Actually, I forgot! I started my day with reading my verses for memorization from Surat al Naml. Before I hit the Internet. High five to myself! Then exercise, alhamdulillah.

Then I sat her down for 10 minutes of Qur'an, and the story of Surat al Feel. Then we did a little bit out of her tracing book.... Now I felt good that I had given her this personal time, she doesn't get enough of it with her older sister. Than I set up her little cooking station and brought down my computer for Internet time.

Other good things did today:
- I had an impromptu measuring lesson for Sumayya today. She was throwing a ball, and I decided I'd teach her about measuring, and we'd measure how far she was throwing. We brought out some rulers and measuring tape and had a quick lesson. Then I let her measure a few things, and then throw her ball while Shifaa helped me spread out the measuring tape. Then we took a few random toys, measured them, drew them, wrote down their length and then put them in order! Alhamdulillah, drawing, tracing, math, and fun all at the same time. I'm happy when these ideas come to my mind, but they don't come often enough.

I also did an activity out of the Slow and Steady book for Sumayya's age (actually younger than Sum, older than Shifaa). Both kids enjoyed it (the one where you walk on a string, foot to foot, and pick up the ball, return it in the same fashion and throw it into a basket).

Kids are napping now... Time for GrowMama blog writing.

alhamdulillah. Ya Allah, give me energy always, and keep laziness away from me.

Samsouma is Reading!

2009-12-24T13:30:00.001-08:00

MashaAllah. I'm happy, b/c I don't even feel like I taught her. Very little direction on my part, but Allah blesses kids with the ability to think. Something that we're using that makes her love reading: BOB books. They're these simple books, with simple words and simple illustrations. And when she reads a sentence, she realizes that reading will lead her to discovering a story, and it's exciting for her!!! Alhamdulillah! Not just a chore anymore. Thanks to my sister in law for the tip.

Feelings Back From Hajj

2009-12-19T08:40:00.000-08:00

I got back from Hajj, my first Hajj, two weeks ago. Alhamdulillah, it was such a blessing from my Creator. Thank you, Allah for blessing me with Hajj this year. Now I have to remind myself not to let it be a passing period of ta3abud, with a rapid decline. work, work, struggle, love, give myself up to Him.

Hajj.... that hadith about how each of the manasik was prescribed for making more ibadah. never remember hearing of it, never remember reflecting on it.... But now that I got to attend Hajj, I understand it, I appreciate it, I love it. 'Truly, tawaf, rami and sa'ee were prescribed only for ibadah." for worship. To dedicate yourself to Allah SWT during that 3 hours of tawaf and sa'ee. you're doing a physical action that might push many ppl to their extreme, but through out it all, you're remembering Allah. You're praising Allah. You're thanking Allah. You're glorifying Allah. You're asking Allah. And asking. And hoping. And praying.
And it's so wonderful alhamdulillah. It's so wonderful. A rejuvenation. A revival. You get it in Ramadan, once a year. You get it in Juma'ah prayer, once a week. You get it in the seasons of ibadah. But nothing like full time immersion in ibadah during Hajj. Ya Allah, what a blessing. Full-time, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week of intense immersion in the ibadah of Allah SWT. You truly feel like those 4 hours of sleep are dedicated to making you stronger so that you can wake up and go worship Allah. You truly feel like that cup of juice you drink, that dinner you eat, is fully for the sake of strenghtening you for His worship. No frivolous bites, no overboard sleeping in. You're building up your reserve to hike out in the wee hours of the night to His sanctuary, struggling through crowds of hundreds of thousands, dedicated to Him, just like you and more than you, all going purely for His pleasure. Ya Allah, the beauty of it.

You struggle through the loving crowds, through the worshipping crowds, to your spot. You stand, and pray, and pray. You sit and read His words. read them and love them, You look around at His creation. The hundreds of thousands who are all here, all crying for His pleasure, reading for His pleasure, praying for His pleasure. Three million strong, all dedicating their days, health and money for Him?! It amazes me. It strengthens me. It leaves me in awe of Him and those who love Him. I thank Him for looking down at us with His pleasure and forgiveness. You are Most Kind, O Allah. You are Al-lateef. And I am Your humble servant, always seeking Your Love. Allahumma Ameen.

Thank You for giving us the chance.

What are the things I loved most about my experience?

The chance to worship him for 16 days non-stop. In all sorts of forms. While walking. While praying. While sitting. While circling. While stoning. While watching. While seeing. Creative ways. non-traditional ways. Re-discovering ways. Strengthening ways. Alhamdulillah. Stay strong, O self.
I didn't know I could just worship Allah for so long, and love it. Thank you, Ya Allah. When I went off for Hajj, I took my Qur'an with me, and knew I was going to read it. After my first couple of hours in Medina, I thought, 'Wow, I can finish reciting the entire Qur'an on this trip.' And I told my husband, and he was like, 'duh.' But it hadn't occured to me before, than in 14 days, I'd have more than enough time to dedicate to reading. And patience. That's what I always struggle for. And love for it. Not just quick recitation. Did I finish reciting? No. :( I fell two juz's away from it. I was distracted by looking at the people around me. And I was tested in Mina with not being able to fully concentrate in such tight quarters. I missed the expanseness of the Holy Haram. I missed the open skies. But that is one of the beauties of Hajj. To test you in the most crowded situations, in the toughest situations, when you're physically spent, can't walk one more step, can't keep your eyes open one more minute.... and still you pray, and you recite, and you ask. That is Hajj. to make ibadah throughout all forms of testing and exertion. Next time I will complete it, inshaAllah. Next time I'll have that knowledge in my mind, that goal, and I will reach it. This time I went without even thinking about it. And knowledge is power. May this benefit someone out there.

I loved the people. I loved looking at everyone. I couldn't get my eyes full of gazing, and wondering and thinking, 'SubhanaAllah! SubhanaAllah! SubhanaAllah!' Truly. The first two days in Medina, I was like a staring freak. I couldn't stop looking around. I couldn't concentrate on my recitation. I was taking in all the crowds, and loving it. I felt like the white person staring at the foreigner Muslim hijabi entourage.

more to come...

Take One Step To Me...

2009-11-12T12:09:00.000-08:00

My four year old daughter walks up to me and holds out her pajamas. "Mama, fix them for me," she says, indicating that her pjs are inside out. I get really annoyed. "Sumayya, do them yourself," I tell her. She gets annoyed and throws a small tantrum. And then I remind her to stick her hand in the sleeves and pull her hand out; it'll fix itself that way. She gives it a sincere try, and sometimes it works for her. When it's really complicated, I jump at the first sign that she gave it a try and help her out. All I want is for her to show me that she's willing to try. Then I'll help her. It doesn't matter to me how simple, how feeble her try is (though at least somewhat sincere), I want to help her out. I want to help her out, I really do, but I want her to show me that she's trying.

And so it is with Allah SWT, though we can't compare ourselves to Him in any degree. All He wants us to do is try. Give it a try. Make the effort. Show that you sincerely want to succeed, that you sincerely want to do this thing. Take the first step. Move out of your hole. Pick up that book on time management, sign up for that course on self-control, set up a schedule for yourself, set the alarm for fajr... And then He'll give us a thousand chances, help us out in a thousand ways, pull us out of our rut, out of our hole, and to success.... Show that we really care, and then He'll give us the lifeline, the rest of the steps.

I promise myself to start working on my patience, on my time management, on my home management, so that He can help me. Find out tips for patience, read up on and start implementing time management strategies, spend those fifteen minutes a day cleaning...

O Allah , you are my Lord. Bless me and give me sincerity and all that is good.

Pumpkins and Acorns

2009-11-12T05:51:00.000-08:00

Something trivial and maybe insignificant, but I was on a trip with an American Muslim friend to a farm about a month ago. She bought a couple of gourds and squashes, and I asked her what she was going to cook with them. She told me, "No, they're for decoration."
For an instant, my heart closed up, and I thought, 'Huh, I thought she was religious." My mind instantly associated the gourd decor with Halloween.
But alhamdulillah, I had a window of understanding opened, and inshaAllah a bit of stereotyping removed.
I went to another farm a couple of weeks later, and on leaving, they had a few pumpkins and gourds up, and told each person to take one with them. But the pumpkins and gourds clearly said, "Not for cooking."
"Huh", I thought. "I guess I'll take them and put them out as decorations." Not Halloween, but a celebration of Allah's creation. Of His magnificent orange, and yellow and green creations. Of these smooth pumpkins, and amazingly textured gourds. Of the curves, the bumps, the melding of yellow into green, the curved into straight, the strength and the amazing beauty.

Just like I have my acorns and pinecones decorating, my flowers and my seashells, my water and my plants, I have my pumpkin and gourds. An experience for my daughters to bring in the colors of autumn, the colors of Allah's creation.

PS: (I guess my point is that some of us immigrant muslims grew up with this thought that pumpkins are bad, turkeys are bad. :) not that black and white, but you know what i mean. It's just another beautiful manifestation of our American culture, which slowly, we'll be able to come and put on as our own clothing, our own culture, and realize that it's about celebrating Allah SWT, celebrating His bounties, His ability to create people with different cultures. I really liked a friend's comment on Halloween&celebrating it, and she reminded us that this time of the year, October/November, is harvest time around many parts of the world. And for a world that was so dependent on the harvest for thousands of years, there is an amount of recognition placed on this harvest and His bounties on us during this time. Our connection to His earth and His creation.
Rabbi zidna 3lma.)

Getting Ready for Hajj

2009-11-12T05:36:00.000-08:00

It's four more days before I head out on the greatest journey of my life. Three weeks ago, I kept on saying, I nee/d to start reading, but I didn't find/make time. And I said, "Three weeks? That's plenty of time."
Now, predictably, I'm upset at myself that I put so much emphasis on preparing the materialistic and not the spiritual, not the knowlede-ful, ibadah-ful part of my hajj. But alhamduillah, today I woke up nice and early, and the girls are still asleep, and got to read Mamdouh Mohamed, 'Hajj&Umrah: from A to Z.' Basic, but so well put together and explained and to the point, may Allah reward him.

And subhanaAllah, everytime I read about tawaf al wadaa3 (the farewell tawaf), I cry. I only have a few short days in Makkah, and Mina, and Arafat and Medina, and bidding farewell before I've even started makes my heart yearn. Oh Allah, accept from us and don't let it be our final call to this land.

Some of my intentions for this hajj:
O Allah , accept from me my answer to your call to make hajj to Your Holy place. Accept it from me purely for your sake, and make it a blessed journey.

O Allah, I hope to use this journey as a way to practice my patience, to learn my patience, to strengthen my resolve and ability to be patient with my daughters, my mothers, everyone. Give me this patience in hajj so that I am not one of those who argue and fight. Give me this patience so that I am not an angry person. Give me this resolve inside of me, so that I always remember my niyyah to you, and patiently accept the bad character of people. I do not want to come back an angry, bottled up mother who yells at her young 4 year old and 2 year old. I want to smile in their face, handle their tantrums with love and a sincere hope that they grow up with the beautiful akhlaq that You and Your messenger taught us ya rabb al 3alameen.

O Allah, I intend to see Your servants from all over the world, so that I can count Your power and Your blessings on us. I want to get to know them, marvel in their differences, in their organization, their lack of it, their dedication to You, their knowledge of You, and their lack of knowledge of things. I want to say alhamdulillah and subhanaAllah. The greatness of the diversity that You have created.

O Allah, I want to visit the holy places that Your prophet visited, to remember that this land was inhabited by thousands of generations before me, ; that I am a nobody in this sea, and yet a somebody in Your eyes. I want to grow closer to you ya Allah. Please give me this taqwa.

I want to remember my closeness to you on my first visit to Your House, when I was not necessarily large in spirit, but You brought me close to You, in spite of me, and made me realize Your presence and Your closeness to me. Ya Allah, give me that taqwa, that knowledge on this trip so that it will carry me over for a lifetime.

Ya Allah, I want to come back a changed person, who does not go back to yelling, impatience, wasting time. Give me that patience, help me practice it in Hajj, and afterwards. Test me, but help me overcome that test.

Ya Allah, give me a love of my husband , and a closeness to him on this trip so that we may always remain connected and close.

Give me a reverance of Your house, your masha3ir, and understanding, and knowledge min ladunka ya rabb al 3alameen. I praise You for the few moments of understanding that You have given me, undeservingly, but because You are al Kareem, the Most Generous; moments of understanding that have held me over and pulled me through and kept me flying through the years. Give me the sincerity in every step I take and every thing I do.

O Allah, fill my heart with overflowing love for You.

Your servant,
fatima

Tired

2009-11-10T19:51:00.000-08:00

I want to write so much, but i'm so tired. Another day inshaAllah...

Hajj preparations: i'm buying so much and not spending enough time reading, writing, getting into it spiritually. five more days inshaallah.

Autumn Leaves and Kids

2009-11-01T20:56:00.001-08:00

I took Sumayya and Shifaa to the park the other day, in hopes they'd entertain themselves with all the fallen leaves. Sumayya, "How, mama?" Me, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAa."

So anyways, I later got the idea to have the girls grab their baskets, go outside and collect leaves of different colors and shapes. We did that, and could have spent alot more time on it, but it was raining that day. Today, we stayed home and actually did some things with those leaves, and I'm so happy alhamdulillah. I hardly ever feel like I'm doing something useful with Sumayya, so this was a good experience that I want to record so that I'll remember some other plans I have.

Basically we took a few different shapes of leaves and did markings of them on paper with the wide side of different colored crayons. Sumayya got the hang of it and actually wanted to keep on going, which is a rarity with her when it comes to artistic/crayon-associated projects. We also got into talking about the veins of the leaves, their job and compared them to human veins. Sumayya was interested mashaAllah. :)

Some other things hope to do inshaAllah:

Leaf/tree identification.
go out and collect many, many more leaves.
wax meltings of leaves and wax crayons shavings . (leaves/crayons between wax paper, iron to melt them together).
God's Characteristics: Al Musawwir (all the different leaf shapes out there, leaf colors, trees, etc!.) The qur'anic verse on " No leaf drops but He is aware of it...).
Leaf in basket collection: collect many more!
Rake up leaves and jump in! (this is when a child sized rake would be useful.... for eid?)

Now, maybe with getting her engrossed into leaves and playing with them at home, she'll have more ideas on how to play with them on her own out in the park... And that's basically how it works, if you know something, you have power over it, you're able to identify it, see it, know it, do something with it. But if its a big blob of nothing that you see everyday but don't 'know', don't have interaction with, you'll just pass by it everyday without taking it in....

Asbah ala kheerr..... time for sleep.

Getting Ready for Hajj

2009-10-27T12:19:00.000-07:00

Alhamdulillah, i'm heading for hajj this year, first time. i'm nervous. i wonder if i'll be able to fill my days with ibadah, or if i won't have the patience and iman to do that. i wonder if it will be accepted. i wonder if i forced myself and husband into it. But I thank Allah swt for giving me the opportunity and i hope to make the best of it and to do it for His sake and none else's.
and i'm especially thankful to my mum and sisters for taking care of the girls. i'll be making lots of dua'a for you guys. so keep patient to get the reward. :)

God is Most Gentle with His Servants-Allah Lateefun Bi'ibadiah

2009-10-20T21:50:00.001-07:00

I like to record serious events in my life that had an impact on me, even for a few seconds, just to be a constant, written reminder of how exactly I was feeling when it first happened-so I will not forget. Because humans are forgetful, even when death stares them in the face, and they see it, and it strips them of all their power; once it's passed, they forget.

Yesterday was the strongest near- death experience I've had; not the first one, but the scariest, the one that most left me weak to my bones, strained in my neck, unable to move.

I was visiting a friend in Germantown MD to console her on her mother in law's loss. Driving back home with two of my sisters, we found ourselves lost for a bit and following a longer route home. We were laughing and talking and having a good time togeher. At Democracy Blvd, off of 270 South, I noticed that the dark highway was unusually empty, and I was relieved. I hate driving at night on busy, unfamiliar roads, with night lights blinding me, and me not knowing if I'm changing lanes into an empty lane or whether the car is actually two lanes over.

Past that Democracy Blvd exit, I was stuck behind a slower moving truck, perhaps going at 50 mph. I finally broke free and switched over to the left lane, pressing on the gas and keeping a bit of a distance from the truck on my right, and inching a bit closer to the concrete highway median to my left. I noticed a car behind me, and some lights in front of me. Smiling, my mind made me understand that these lights were from the cars driving down the other side of the highway. It was dark, but there were two white headlights lighting my road.

And then my mind realized that my sister Maryam was moaning, 'Fatima, watch out.'

It clicked.

Those two headlights were heading straight down the dark highway towards me. I was going 70, it was going fast, steady, straight down that highway. I had just passed the truck to my right, but I had no other choice. I violently pulled my steering wheel to the right, then quickly back to the left to keep out of the truck's direct path. I had no idea what was happening around me, but my SUV swerved right and left and right and left till we had passed danger.

I was spent. I could not believe what had just happened. The truck behind me slowed down to 10 mph, the car behind me too. That's all i saw in the rearview mirror. I was shaken. I couldn't press the gas, i couldn't keep my hands steady. Slowly, those two cars overtook me and long passed me. But I stayed at my 30 mph on the highway speed. My voice shook as I talked to my sisters. We couldn't believe what had just happenend. We hashed and rehashed what had just happened. I tried to steady my shaking voice; I thought I was the only one so scared. Had to toughen up.

We called 911 and they switched us over to the police dispatch. He informed us that they had gotten 3 other calls on the same car. Good. But they hadn't yet done anything to stop him. What was he? How the hell did he get on the closed highway? What was he trying to do? Suicide? An automotive version of Russian roulette? Gang or fraternity initiation? Probably not drunk. He was heading straight down that lane. No swerving left or right. Steady.

By the time I got home to my parents, I thanked God that it wasn't three deaths at once. All I could think of was that a head on collision like that would have flipped my car far, far ahead and killed us all, starting with my kid sister in the back seat with no seat belt. All I could think of was, Allah Lateefun bi'ibadih. He saved me from a violent, ugly death. And He truly saved me. He guarded me from in front of me, from the right of me, from the left of me, from behind me. I swerved from that car's way, but I swerved right into another vehicle's path. I was going for the lesser of the two evils, for a seriously scratched up car, but God had better plans. He protected me, He gave me another chance to thank Him, to realize His Mercy, His Gentleness, His power.

alhamduilllah rabbil 3alameen.

I-270 Driver Going Wrong Direction

2009-10-20T21:26:00.000-07:00

Did anyone else see this scary seen on 270 South past Democracy Blvd around 10:40 pm on Monday night, October 20th 2009? If so, I'd like to touch base and see what you saw.
My sisters and I saw death barreling down on us, but were saved by our guardian angels and Most Gentle Creator.

Ramadan Memories...

2009-09-03T15:19:00.000-07:00

Ramadan Memories and Ramadan Spirit.

There is one memory that jumps to my mind when I think of Ramadan, and most importantly when I think of the spirit of Ramadan. I grew up in the States, so the one Ramadan that I spent in Egypt as an adult was a new experience. I was never sure if it beat my Ramadans back home in America, but this one memory of Ramadan in Egypt fills me with happiness and the spirit of racing to do good that Ramadan inspires in all of us... (wa fee thalika fal yatanafas il mutanafisun- And in that, let them compete).

One day, my husband and I were invited for Ramadan iftar at my second cousin's home near the Al Malik Al Salih (Pious King) metro stop in Old Cairo. I don't remember the metro ride, I don't even remember if it was the metro we took, but I do remember the rest of the story from the moment we stepped out of the metro station into the sandy, brown neighborhood streets of Al Malik Al Salih neighborhood.

It was dusk time, maghrib time, and the streets were yellow with the last rays of the setting sun. The sound of athan had just faded from the horizon, and the streets were quiet, minus the sound of honking cars and screaming merchants. And yet, in our faces were about 4 or 5 young men and boys, each one handing us a small cup full of milk and a plate covered with dates. I was overwhelmed at first; it took me a few seconds to realize they were offering me my iftar dates, my fast-breaker. They realized that it was iftar time, that these last lingering metro riders had probably not broken their fast; and they raced against each other to give my husband and I that first date and sip of milk, so they could receive the reward of feeding a fasting person.

Until today, I am overwhelmed with feelings every time I think of it. I have to be honest with you, I couldn't drink from that cup of milk because I was a bit spoiled and had no idea where that cup or that milk had been, and I can't even remember if I had the stomach to eat the uncovered dates. But until today, I ask Allah to reward those boys and men for giving me a taste of the spirit of Ramadan, a taste of the meaning of racing forth to do good deeds, a taste of competing with each other in all that is good.

Six Ramadans later, I remember their faces, their outstretched arms, their desire to feed me, and I say alhamdulillah for the spirit of goodness in our ummah.

May Allah bless this Ramadan for you and I, and may He increase our desire to give generously like the blowing wind.

Different Personalities...and the Bathroom

2009-08-20T07:21:00.000-07:00

SubhanaAllah, Allah blessed me with two different girls and two completely different personalities. I know this might be a bit too graphic, but you can really see their differences of style in the bathroom!

My oldest daughter is so outgoing; she does not understand the concept of shyness or embarrassment. I know, it still surprises me, but she totally gets that character trait from her father. MashaAllah, I should try to learn how to help her take advantage of it.... She can be sooo cute sometimes, and apparently so overbearing, as my sisters let me know.

But when she used to do #2 in her diaper as a baby, she used to do it in front of the whole world, not even thinking twice about it. And now as a four year old, she wants me to stay with her in the bathroom and converse while she's going full speed. I have to teach her to be on her own.

With my second daughter, it was a bigger challenge potty training her. She would hide whenever she wanted to use the bathroom, and though I remember my younger siblings doing that as well, it surprised me how children could understand the concept of hayaa'a, shyness/modesty/embarressment. And now that she uses the potty (only for #2), she'll make sure I leave her alone. "Mama, ruhi, wi2filee il baab." "Mama, go and shut the door."

hahaha, i love it, and subhanaAllah, she is generally a shy kid in public, if she is first being introduced to a new group of people.

Life of A Parking Space

2009-07-19T21:13:00.000-07:00

I stood outside with my daughters, one snowy and icy day, cleaning off our black SUV with the new, long, double sided snow brush my husband had sent us long distance through Amazon.
Just the day before, I had complained to him that he had thrown away my broken snow brush last summer when he was cleaning out our old Volvo, getting it ready to be detailed and sold. I told him not to throw it away, that one day I would wake up and find snow, and no brush to clean off that snow with.
And I was right, the season's first snow had falled and melted, and I had had to clean the car with the back of my coat sleeve. Now the second snow fall had arrived, and it was much hardier than the first one-no back of sleeves wipe would do the trick for me. And so I complained to my husband that night, as I stayed snowed in my apartment with my two little ones, trying to entertain them and remain sane.
"I'm stuck without a snow brush. Thanks hubby. What am I supposed to do tomorrow morning when I try to go out?!"
And so, my new snowbrush arrived the next day by mail. Nice, sleek and long.
And we stood outside in our apartment parking lot, me cornering my two year old so she wouldn't run out into the street and watching my 3.5 year old trying to clean the snow off the car with her new toy.

And we watched one parking spot, two cars down from ours, fill up with a white Camry after having stood empty for a while. Ten minutes later, its driver returned and drove away, leaving the spot empty again. Two minutes later, that spot filled up again-this time with a silver Passat. And within minutes, its driver had returned and drove away to another destination. And there I stood with my little sumy, brushing away at that snow, breaking up those clumps of ice. And in drove the third car, a navy blue Volvo V70 and parked. All within 20 minutes of my stand. Twenty minutes, three cars, one parking spot. And one on-looker who watched it all.

Standing in one spot, and seeing another spots dramatic, quick changes, all within minutes was symbolic to me. Amazing, changes come and go, pass by us, and we remain standing, watching, waiting, hoping.

Happiness

2009-07-05T07:05:00.000-07:00

I got a compliment from my almost four year old daughter the other day, and it lit up my world, brightened up my day. It was the first compliment I've gotten from her, and I didn't imagine that little children could notice these things, and that their appreciation would make me so happy.

I was walking outside our apartment door, ready to take my daughters and husband on a couple of trips before I went out alone to an old friend's baby shower. As I walked out the door in my purple jilbab and silver-lined, purple scarf, my little daughter looked up to me and said, 'You look beautiful, mama. I like what you're wearing." I smiled this deep, heart-felt smile. "Thanks, Samsoum." And it kept me smiling for the rest of the day. It gave me a bit of confidence in my step as I walked into the baby shower that day.

Thank you for giving me confidence, dear daughter, thank you for bringing a real smile to my face.
There's just something about a child's true, unadulterated honesty, something about a young one's compliments that can never be replicated by any adult compliment, for in a child's compliment you detect true appreciation, unadulterated by any feelings of being kind. 100% honesty. Children, the true brightness in our horizon.

Parenting at Almost Four

2009-05-25T19:24:00.000-07:00

Should not involve disciplining a rude kid. But already my almost four year old is testing me and trying me with her rude faces and retorts. I am at a loss to how to fix it. I have started disciplining her by taking away story time at night, and I'm not sure its working. She gets so upset when I do that, and cries her heart out and throws fits and fits, but I'm not sure it helps her act better the next day.

today was especially trying for me. I am exhausted by trying to get her to act right. Maybe I'm expecting too much? Maybe I'm caring about what others say about how she acts, and that's why I'm trying to control her behavior and actions? I used to let go, but now that she's older, I feel like ppl can only handle her so much b/c she's not a little 'cute' kid anymore. But if that's the case, that's wrong of me.
I need to be disciplining her for the right reason, not b/c of what others will say about her. But how do you get a kid to stop giving you nasty looks when they're upset, and retorting at you without slapping them? For the life of me, alhamdulillah, i've been able to keep that violence away, b/c i know its just my temper getting the best of me. but sometimes, oh how badly i want to slap those words out of her mouth or that look off of her face.

Ya rabbi, I ask you to help me raise this girl in the best of akhlaq. Forgive me if I treated my parents wrongly, and if this is my just punishment. Please forgive me, and lead these daughters of mine to the best of akhlaq so that you will be pleased with them and I can live with them.

what would make my daughter better?
I know if I had more fun with her, on a personal, playful level, she would probablylove me more and be so upset at upsetting me. maybe i need to do that, just play with her. instead of taking her places to play and thinking that's enough.

subhanaAllah. ya rabbi, sabbirnee 3layha.

Hurting My Kid

2009-04-27T20:06:00.000-07:00

aaah, i'm in pain right now, and i don't think i've ever hurt my daughter as much as i did today. i've never seen her cry such deep tears of upset and disbelief. i disclipined her today by taking away her bedtime story. she misbehaved and i gave her many chances, counted down, threatened etc. and then took her down to 1 story, and then she acted up again and i took away her one story. and i knew it would hurt me, b/c it would unsettle her before bed, which would make falling asleep harder for her, and yet i felt she would only learn if she saw that i would not change my mind. but she cried and cried her heart out and i'm so sad.

and to make it worse, she acts up usually when i don't give her enough activities during the day, and today i left her at my mom's from 4-9 pm, where they didnt have much to do. so i always feels bad when i feel like i didn't give her enough of my time of day, but i have this project i need to finish by next week and i'm no where close to finishing it... aaaahhhh. poor baby.

What is right? am i doing the right form of disciplining? i don't feel like this is going to hurt her long term, b/c i did warn her. and i'll shower her with love tomorrow to show her i love her, but that she can't act up in rude behavior. ... i don't know...

and i lost her today. and the worst thing is i didn't even notice till minutes later. we were at teh library and she was on the computer and i was doing puzzles with her sister. when i finally got up, i noticed she was gone. i went searching for her and found the librarian and another woman bringing her in, apparently she had been outside looking for me, thinking i had left her and gone to the park. and then the two women went off and started whispering, and i could just imagine them talking about this irresponsible foreigner who didn't care for her kid... subhanaAllah. alhamdulillah He protected her and me from feeling the fear of losing my daughter to human's moment of weakness and non-omniscense.

Small Science Experiment for 3 year old

2009-03-01T11:18:00.000-08:00

I kind of adapted this idea from a website I came upon for Montessori teaching and from the snowy/sleety weather we had last night.
While we were driving, a snow truck passed in front of us and sprayed us with some pebbles/salt grains. My daughter asked me about it and I explained that salt helps the ice melt more quickly and keeps ice from forming on the ground. She asked how, so I promised her that next morning we would do an 'experiment' to discover how. This excited her since she's been reading a mouse story , with the mouse getting dirty in one scene from a 'science experiment.' So she said excitedly, "tajruba 3ilmiyya?!" And I said, 'Yes!"

Today we took out two little bowls and two pieces of ice. I let my daughters take turns pouring salt on the 'experimental' ice cube. Then we moved around both bowls and got them little spoons to mix the ice. The ice with the salt melted very quickly! We learned about the different states of water, about different things that help ice melt more quickly.

quick fun!

Children's Innocence

2009-02-10T21:46:00.000-08:00

My heart hurts for my children, and I wish I could protect them from learning what meanness is.
The other day we were visiting with some older, generally well-behaved children and their parents. When we went home, my three year old told me that the 'older' boy (6? 8? year old 'A') had called her banana head. She was laughing when she said this. And I knew that she thought it was funny.
But I kept on thinking to myself that he meant it in a way to make people laugh, and b/c she was innocent , she wasn't hurt by him using her as a tool for humor. But I felt so bad. I was happy that she wasn't hurt, but I realized that one day it would dawn on her that people are mean, and words could hurt. My heart cries for my children, cries for the day they realize human meanness.

Ya Allah, give us strength in our bodies and spirits, and protect our children from evil.

Confessions of a Three Year Old

2009-01-23T21:14:00.000-08:00

I absolutely love them. I love my little daughter when she comes up to me and starts conversing with me, telling me as an after thought, about something that she did yesterday that she probably shouldn't have, or something that she did today that she probably shouldn't have.

"Mama, I ran to the bathroom because I needed it. I pee'ed in my pants, a little bit."
Me: "What?!"
"Just a little bit, mama, a very little bit."

She tells me the story so matter of factly, so full of confidence, so sure of my love, with no guilt, because she doesn't understand guilt yet, at least not fully.

I was sitting and listening to her chatter away, not really paying attention, till her new train of words caught my attention.

"Mama, yesterday I took that bottle and went into the room, shut the door and put some soap in my hands and my sisters's hands."
Me, "Yes?"
"Then my aunt came in the room and took it from me, and told me this doesn't belong to me."

"Oh, what was it?" Now I'm really paying attention because I realize she's telling me a real life story, and because I'm wondering what the heck she had taken out of the closet.

"That," she points to a bottle of antibacterial soap, a small bottle, the kind you don't have to wash with water.

She tells me this whole story in retrospect, something that happened in her day yesterday. But she's not confessing a sin, she's just telling me her daily happenings. She feels no need to apologize, she feels no need to fear me. And I absolutely love it. I love the fact that she's not scared of telling me, the fact that she isn't waiting for my reaction and fearing it. I love the fact that she's conversing with me, and I almost don't want to say anything, don't want to ruin the moment.

"Sumy, why did you close the door?"
"What?"
"Remember, if I don't see you, Allah SWT sees you. Next time, if you want to see it, just ask me and I'll bring it down." But deep inside I realize that I don't always 'just bring it down.' Maybe I need to do that more often.

I hope I did that right. I hope I am able to keep my lines of communication open with this little treasure of a daughter. I hope she always remains so innocent, even in her mistakes, so free, so trusting, so confident.

Ya Allah, give me wisdom to protect her from everything bad. Ya Allah, keep our babies so wonderful and trusting and sweet and innocent.

Not Regretting It

2009-01-22T05:49:00.000-08:00

My husband has a wonderful trait-once he decides on something and goes through with it, he never regrets it. No matter how nagging I can get, asking him if perhaps we should have looked around for a better deal, perhaps we should have waited, perhaps...., he tells me, 'khalass, it's over and I don't regret it.'
And I love this trait about him, b/c it helps me feel better about some decisions I feel I may have forced him into that I later have second thoughts about (like buying our new car).

But two days ago, I did something different. Something that I should have done so many years ago, but practice makes perfect. I thought about why I was going to the inauguration.

I had planned on going months ago, once Obama was elected president. And then the morning of the inauguration, I found myself going by myself, and I wondered if there was any truly 'good' reason for me to go, other than to see something excited, which didn't sound very beneficial to my life and Hereafter.

So I decided that I would go and learn something new from this crowd of 2 million people, and I would at least be a picture for Islam in America for these crowds who might not think Muslims were as interested as they in Obama's inauguration.

And I went. It was cold, crowded, exhausting, and wonderful, and I went alhamdulillah. I was alone the whole time, and I got stuck in unbelievable human traffic afterwards (never ever imagined such a human traffic jam) and it took me 2.5 hours to get home instead of 30 minutes, but alhamdulillah, I did not regret going because I got what I went for, alhamdulillah. People saw me, I gave a 30 second interview on something called Kosher TV, and I saw things that I did not think I'd see (like the Christian fundamentalists with their huge signs, coming to DC with a purpose, and getting booed by the crowd and told to go home (!), and the Buddhist monks walking around the mall to their own drumbeat (so nice!), and some interesting crowd control issues).

Alhamdulillah, it was a learning experience. May God give me the power to think through every action I take.

Vacuuming Empowers Me!

2009-01-15T10:44:00.000-08:00

I'm realizing this more and more, I absolutely love vacuuming. In general, I prefer cooking to cleaning any time of day, but there's something absolutely quick and wonderful about a vacuum cleaners powers- how it wipes out dirt and a mess with one swipe, and leaves my living room looking so clean within minutes.
And it's probably the only cleaning I can do with kids running around and not having to worry about them demanding my attention at that time. They either play tag with the vacuum cleaner and I push, or grab their own child size vacuums and clean along.
And I just recently realized the love affair I've had with each vacuum cleaner I bought in the different countries and had to leave behind when I moved. At first I thought it was only this vacuum cleaner or that one that I loved, but then I realized I loved each vacuum cleaner I've chosen (except for my craigslist one-but then again, I didn't choose that one!).

I feel like a child when I say this, but I love vacuuming!

PS: I own a dyson at the moment (one of the lighter ones) and am in love!

GrowMamaGrow

2009-01-10T07:25:00.001-08:00

Check it out, a new, amazing online community for Muslim moms:

www.growmama.com

Expanded Post- Water Play-Entertaining Baby!

2008-11-04T08:25:00.001-08:00

Entertaining Baby
I'm reading this book that has been giving me the simplest yet most brilliant ideas for entertaining my toddlers. Basically, kids like to do so many things, and the only reason we stop them is because it's an inconvenience to us-changing their wet clothes, bathing them, whatever. But what is a wet t-shirt, a wet bathroom floor, some spilled dry beans on a carpet? Five minutes of extra cleaning on my part and hours! of entertainment for her!
So the other day, I opened the bathroom door, pulled up a step to the sink, filled it with water and bubbles and gave my 2 1/2 year old a couple of measuring cups. She was in there for at least 1 1/2 hours, and fully enjoying herself. Brilliant! Let her play with water! She enjoys it, and all I do is change her afterwards and wipe the floor.
Another idea that holds great favor in our household:

Setting up a dry bean station: I fill a jar with dry white beans and place it on a flat pan along with empty jars of all sizes, and a couple of measuring spoons/cups. My kids fully enjoy spilling it all over the floor and elsewhere, but they also come up with the most amazing , creative concoctions, including white bean tea! It's amazing, but you have to watch out for the hungry 18 month old child who you think is old enough, and smart enough to know not to eat this tasteless treat. No matter how vigilant you might be, their appetite will be smaller that day, their mood will change around evening time and their diaper that night will be *full* of dry beans!
Putting on some kid songs: I put on some anasheed with kids singing and a nice beat. My daughters insist on wearing their 'dancing' outfits (skirts which are 3 sizes too large for them) and twirling around!
Good ole' play-dough: I set my daugthers up either on the floor or on their little table with a clump of play-dough and a couple of rolling pins, cookie cutters and measuring spoons. Lately, I've also added a store-bough play-dough squeezer to the fun. My three year old especially enjoys this (putting the dough in the contraption and squeezing it out through a shaper to look like thin spaghetti, thick pasta, stars, crescents, etc).
Bath time! With lots of bubbles, plastic cups, and a spray bottle! Oh yes, and much patience for me! Perhaps cleaning up the bathroom sink at the same time would be a useful endeavor for me.

Please share your toddler fun ideas!

Discovering My Child

2008-10-22T10:03:00.001-07:00

As a parent, I am slowly seeing that I should discover my child, so that I may help her reach her potential.
We were in NYC this weekend with my husband's cousin, showing him a part of America and seeing it ourselves in a new light. We went to the Madam Tassauds wax museum as part of our tour. Not something that I would ever have done on my own, or that I would do again, but it gave me a deeper glimpse into my three year old's abilities, and now I'm trying to discover how to build on that momentum.
In the wax museum, there is an 'American Idol' station where visitors can try there luck in singing. We were sitting at the cafeteria for a short break, and saw two different visitors perform. After the second one finished her performance, Sumy hesitated for about two seconds, and shyly ran up to the lady for the microphone. I was so impressed with her bravery and her jur'ah. She definitely gets that side from her father. It was so cute how she looked kind of shy, but her eagerness to sing overrode her tiny bit of shyness (she's not a very shy kid, usually).
She got up on stage and sang the two lines she knew from "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" with the prompter helping her along. And she finished the whole song and came off stage.

So now, I need to figure out what that tells me about Sumy's abilities/personality and build on it. Any help would be appreciated. :)

But this is what I'm thinking: I've always wished I had a nice voice to sing in public, for performances, Eid celebrations, weddings, etc. But I have no such talent. So, I might teach Sumy a few songs in Arabic and English so that she can entertain people. "The Blue Sky is Blue Like Blue Bubblegum", etc. I believe that putting happiness into ppl's hearts by singing is a great asset, and maybe she can do that a bit.
What else? Hmmm, need to develop her outgoing personality and not clamp it down. More on that in another post inshaallah.

Playing With Beans

2008-09-10T09:28:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I decided that my 18 month old is old enough to understand that she can't eat raw beans, or that she'd taste one, not like it, and continue playing with them. I was optimistic.
I give her and her older sister a couple of empty jars, spice jars, measuring cups, etc, and let them play with the dry white beans for a while, until my living room carpet was covered with beans, and they were ready for their nap.
Shifaa woke up a couple of hours later and didn't eat much for lunch. We went to mama's for iftar/dinner, and again she didn't have an appetite. I know you've guessed the reason, but I didn't have the forecasting that you have, and so I wondered why she was acting so spoiled and crying over everything. I attributed it to her teeth, and went on with life.
She refused to eat dinner, and I refused to give her anything else that she thought she could get (yes, I was being heartless).
Than night, right before her bath, she pooped. I changed her diaper and laughed. It was absolutely filled with dry white beans. Eeeeewwww! I know, I'm sorry for the details, but it made me smile, b/c I finally understood why she had a 'full' stomach all day, and I guess now I knew why she was acting so 'bratty' all day!

I'll have to watch her better next time. Yes, there will be a next time!

Enjoying the Moment

2008-07-08T08:55:00.000-07:00

My 16 month old is now walking, so I *usually* let her take the walk from the car to our apartment on her own. It's a three minute affair if she's in my arms, and a ten minute affair if I'm following her. But the immense pleasure she gets out of it keeps me going.
She squeals in pleasure as soon as the apartment door opens and starts running out towards the elevator. She gets in and says 'ai!' even if there's no one in the elevator. And if ppl are there, she waves and stares at them.
As soon as the elevator door opens, she walks out, and starts observing everything and everyone and saying 'ai!' to the receptionist. Once I'm able to get her out of the building she starts observing every little thing in her way.
She squats down and touches the wet flowers, the wet asphalt, anything. She picks up random rocks and stuff and starts meandering left and right. She fully enjoys the moment and doesn't realize that we need to get to the car.
I love it, I love observing her, I love how she takes it all in, at her eye level.
And so I let her walk, unless I really need to get somewhere...
:)

She's Walking!

2008-05-25T19:48:00.000-07:00

I keep on mentioning this reflection of mine to my friends and family, and yet I still feel the need to write it down and share it with everyone. I'm amazed at the complete difference in personality that my two daughters showed when it came to walking.
My youngest, 15 month old daughter, is finally walking. I don't mean just walking as in she never walked before, but as in she has finally decided that instead of crawling everywhere, she's gonna get up and walk. She's been working on her walking skills for over a month now, but she'd tease us, take a few steps here and there to show us that she could do it, but she just never really cared to pursue it. That and she's a very careful baby when it comes to her safety. She never felt it was a safe endeavor, and so, she didn't walk! :) And yet, the thought process that has finally brought her to the decision to walk, continues to amaze me.
And oh how different this process was for my older 33 month old daughter! :) That's almost three year old Sumy. She discovered her ability to take steps at 1 year and 3 weeks old. And she never looked back. As simple as that.
One day we were living with my parents and Sumy was a walker. Then we went away with my in-laws for a two day vacation to PA. The evening we left my parents house, Sumy discovered walking. She took a few steps and fell. Was amazed, got right back up, took a few more steps and fell, and got right back up. She continued like this for a good hour, and she never went back to crawling. Amazing, subhanaAllah! My sis in law caught a good 15 mins of it on camera. I should look it up.
SubhanaAllah the differences that kids have in approaching life. Now I wonder, does this really reflect on differences in their personalities? Differences in how they approach life in general? Or is it just a walking issue? A physical issue? I'm not really sure, but i'll discover it as I continue to live and grow with my girls.
Alhamdulillah.

Where My Time Flies...

2008-05-17T21:10:00.000-07:00

So, it's really busy business being a mommy. Whenever someone asks me what I do, I answer, "I'm 'just' a mother.' And then I explain that being a mommy is busy business, but I rack my brains to remember why it's a busy business... Can't I do more with my time? (Answer is yes, but when I can't....)

So, this is why I can't do much more with my time....

Today I came to write a check for a bill that arrived in the mail. I sit down and start writing check. Baby is hungry. I get up and put an egg to boil, come back and entertain her a bit to get her to forget her hunger. I run off and find another, working pen, and start writing check again. Older daughter finally agrees to use bathroom. I get up to help her.
The egg is ready by the time we're finished in the bathroom. I cool it down under cold water, and put it for Baby to eat. A couple of minutes later, Baby decides it's nasty and lobs it over the side of her high chair. Big Baby (older daughter) decides she wants an egg too, and I hear the sound of an egg cracking in the kitchen. I run to save the egg and my kitchen and pour some milk for Baby. I retrieve the egg, let her drink milk, and give her some egg to try again. I sit down and finish writing the check, but the envelope isn't the right size, so I get up to get another envelope.
I run to the kitchen to make an omelet that I'm convinced won't be eaten by Big Baby, run back and clean up the once again lobbed over side of high chair egg (stupid me), and address the new envelope. I take down Baby, wash her, place her on the floor (upset of course, because she's sleepy). And I finish the envelope!!! I run, make the omelet and run back to stamp the envelope. Alhamdulillah, it's done and waiting to be mailed tomorrow.
By the way, much to my delight and surprise, the 11 pm omelet gets eaten by a hungry 2 1/2 year old Big Baby. :) yay! And thirty minutes after I put my mind to getting this item off my to-do list, it's accomplished. Mission accomplished!

Potty Training and Independence

2008-04-16T08:10:00.000-07:00

A light clicked in my head a few weeks ago while I was potty training Suma. She likes to do things on her own! So I told her, 'Sumy, when you need the bathroom, go inside by yourself, take off your pants/underwear, and sit on the toilet.' And Sumy liked that idea.
Yesterday, she didn't even mention anything to me, I just saw her looking uncomfortable for a few minutes, going and coming, and then I heard her 'peeing.' She went into the dark bathroom on her own and undressed and sat, didn't even need to tell me. :) She's done it before, and each time, I'm so proud of her! :) It's so cute, Allah yihfath-ha.
So, maybe in the path to being potty-trained, we need to teach kids to do it on their own, and they'll make less mistakes! Obvious, but I'm stating it nonetheless. :)

Water Play

2008-04-03T18:00:00.000-07:00

I started writing this a while back and got busy with my husband's visit. So here's a quick reflection.

I'm reading this book that has been giving me the simplest yet most brilliant ideas for entertaining my toddlers. Basically, kids like to do so many things, and the only reason we stop them is because it's an inconvenience to us-changing their wet clothes, bathing them, whatever. But what is a wet t-shirt, a wet bathroom floor, some spilled dry beans on a carpet? Five minutes of extra cleaning on my part and hours! of entertainment for her!
So the other day, I opened the bathroom door, pulled up a step to the sink, filled it with water and bubbles and gave my 2 1/2 year old a couple of measuring cups. She was in there for at least 1 1/2 hours, and fully enjoying herself. Brilliant! Let her play with water! She enjoys it, and all I do is change her afterwards and wipe the floor.

Being a 'Yes' Mommy

2008-03-21T18:39:00.000-07:00

I recognize that parents' first reactions to most questions posed by their children is 'no.' For some reason, it's an inborn thing in parents, and probably humans. So, I'm trying to become more of a 'yes' mommy, only saying no when I have to. I'm not always successful, and still trying harder, but it comes in stages.
The other day, when I was getting Suma ready for bed (2.5 year old), I took off both of her socks. She was talking about something, paused and said, 'Put them back on, so I can take them off." I did, and she proceeded to undress her own socks. It took an extra 30 seconds on my part. And life went on smoothly. Most importantly, inside of me, I wasn't boiling at her for making me do this, I wasn't impatient and trying to hurry her off to bed. I took it all in step, and I was rather proud, alhamdulillah.
So, here's a reminder to myself, 'Be a 'yes' mommy!'

Potty Training My Oldest

2008-03-19T17:41:00.000-07:00

I can almost safely say that Suma is potty trained, alhamdulillah. I'm still afraid of dressing her in regular underwear when we're out, but she hasn't had any accidents yet, ALHAMDULILLAH. She's 31 months old now, i.e. 2 years and 7 months. I'm a happy woman. We started our trip over a year ago, and she was half way potty trained in about two months, i.e. she was using #2 in the bathroom, and has been for the past 10 months almost. But I never seriously tried to potty train her past that, until two weeks ago. And now we're in cloth. All praise is to Allah. :)

Updated: 3/21: When I wrote this post, I knew I was speaking too soon. :) Yesterday we had three rather solid accidents. I have to keep it up on my own part for her to keep it up on her part. :)

My Baby's Birth Story

2008-02-25T15:49:00.000-08:00

Shifaa turned one today. SubhanaAllah, birthdays always remind me of how fast time flies, and how we never know what the future holds for us. It's been a whole year that I have been meaning to document my little one's birth story (as I did with her older sister's in the first month of her birth!), and I have not done it. So today, I go forth!

Shifaa's expected birth date was February 28th, 2007. My husband works in Iraq, and I was living in the States, awaiting her delivery. In the beginning of February, my *lovely* husband told me that he had a conference to attend at the end of February (24-26th) and would travel to the States after that. He was counting on our second baby coming after the delivery date, just as her sister had. I was pretty upset, and told him that there was a 90% chance he'd miss the delivery, and if he did, I would be so upset at him. He wasn't too worried (ahem, ahem).
On Friday, February 23rd, in the middle of the night, I woke up to this really weird pain, and thought it was a contraction. I woke up freaked out and awaited another, but none came (thank God!). I promised myself that tomorrow I would get my hospital bag packed and do last minute things. On Saturday, I got a couple of big things out of the way, but I had yet to pack my bag. Tomorrow. I went over to visit my in-laws that day and had my sister in law drive me back home.
I went to sleep and woke up at 3 am Sunday morning with this really weird feeling that I needed the bathroom. In the back of my mind, I had a feeling that my water had broke, but I assumed I just needed the bathroom. I waited in bed for thirty minutes and the contractions became very real and defined. I got up, went to the bathroom, and realized that my water had broke. I decided to take my pre-labor shower (a very long affair). Meanwhile, I was wondering how I was going to wake up my father and mother to drive me over to the hospital (the joys of giving birth without your hubby around).
Around 4:30 am, after I had finished my shower, and my contractions were getting stronger, I decided it was time to knock on my parents' bedroom door. We got in the car around 5 am, and found that the weather was sleeting and snowing. My father and mother sat in the front and my sister sat in the back with me, timing my contractions. They were almost a minute long, and about two minutes apart, but I wasn't super worried. I had the same experience driving to the hospital with my first daughter, and she arrived 14 hours later.
We got to the hospital around 5:35 am, and I walked in. I had to stop and wait out a couple of contractions along the way. It was a pretty quiet night in the 'birthing inn' and the nurse was very relaxed and taking her time. My mom was freaking out and asking for a wheelchair, but I was more into walking to help along the labor.
I got to the delivery room and went into the bathroom to change. I couldn't get out because I kept on feeling like I still needed the bathroom (sorry, tmi). The nurse came in, and said pretty loudly and authoritatively, "I need you to get onto the table, now." I got on the table, and by now the contractions were really, really bad. I had intended on not getting an epidural, but I asked for it a this point. The answer, "Sorry honey, you're about to have your baby."
The nurses woke up as soon as they examined me, and I heard one of them calling for the doctor on call, " I need a doctor here, now." My midwife had not yet arrived. All of this was around 5:50 am, right after we arrived.
I was screaming now, and my mom was holding my hands and reassuring me. Surprisingly, she was pretty good. I thought she'd freak out and run out of the delivery room (she's not a touchy, feely kind of mom).
They told me to wait a second, and I had no idea, what I was doing, other than screaming really loud (I think I was over-dramatizing a bit). My midwife ran in, threw off her sweater and told me to push. I think I pushed about three times, and then my mom said, 'SubhanaAllah.' I was still screaming, but I looked down and saw a baby in my midwife's hands. And suddenly I realized it didn't hurt anymore. :))
My second little girl was born at 6:05 am, three hours after my water broke. It was the best labor ever, and I still smile when I think of it. I was walking around ten minutes later, and I felt great, alhamdulillah!
And what made it even more amazing is that I had no hard feelings for my hubby. If he had been there, we would have had a longer drive to make, and perhaps not made it in time to the hospital. God made it easy for me, and for that, I am thankful.

Hello World

2008-02-17T20:05:00.001-08:00

One day, I will get more serious about posting to this blog.... Until then, hello world!

Quick Intro

2007-09-08T19:20:00.000-07:00

I am a relatively 'new' mother with two daughters, a two year old and a six month old. Parenting them has become the challenge and focus of my life. Anyways, as I like to write down what comes on my mind, and as I love blogging, I'm starting this blog to get ideas and to share ideas and thoughts that occur to me on parenting. So, let's share our experiences!!!