A Day in the Hijab of Shama

My family and I have some deep philosophical conversations in my home.  We ponder the Creator and His creations.  We analyze moral codes and conducts.  We discuss the powers and deceptions of love and life.  There are even occasional political debates and resolutions.  Then there are those times when all intellect leaves the room and mutterings of gibberish laden fools reign free to spread their doctrine.  These are some of those mutterings:

1. " Mommy, I can't sleep in my sleeping bag anymore."
     "Why, is it dirty?  Are you too hot in it?  Is there a hole in it that allows a tiny gremlin inside to nibble at
     your toenails while you sleep?"
     "No, it's too blue."
2.  (Angrily)"She keeps looking at me!"
     "So close your eyes and you won't see her seeing you."
     "But then I can't breathe."
3.  [This one is courtesy of my niece]
     Daddy: what mascot would you pick for your school?
     Child: a bloody castle.
     Hmmmmmmmm.....
4.  "Can I have some cereal?"
     "Sure, let me take out the milk."
     "No, I don't want milk.  I want to eat it dry."
     [ten minutes later] "Can I have some milk?"
     "I just offered you milk in you cereal and you said you didn't want any."
     "That was because it's harder to play marbles with my Kix when they're wet."
5.  [watching the child bouncing and writhing in her seat] "Hanan, do you have to go to the bathroom?"
     "No, thank you."
     "Yes you do, you're practically wiggling out of your clothes."
     "No, thank you."
     "I'm not offering you a cookie, I'm telling you to go PEE."
     "Can i have a cookie if i go pee?"
     "Whew, yeah, sure kid, after you go pee you can have a cookie."
     "Mommy, my pants are wet, can i have my cookie now?"
     "NO THANK YOU"
    

My 7 yr old son is a Hifzh School student (Qur'an Memorization).  He has long surpassed my level of memorization, Masha'Allah.  He sometimes likes to rub this fact in my face as to insinuate that he is more knowledgeable. 

Son:  Mommy, I'm memorizing Surah Ar-Rahman.

Me:  Masha'Allah this is great.

Son:  I've got the first 20 ayat (verses) memorised already.

Me:  Good for you! Keep up the good work.

Son:  Uh huh, I bet I know more of this surah than you do.

Me: (O here we go again) Hmm, I dunno.  I've been reading it enough to have quite a bit of it imprinted on     the brain.

Son:  Oh yeah? (In a disbelieving smirk) How many ayat do you know?

Me: Well, off hand I know the first 3 ayat plus 31 others, so that's 34 ayat altogether.

Son:  (Snorting in disbelief) Ha! 34 ayat? I don't believe you.  Go ahead n recite um.

Me:  Ok:
               (A udhu billahi minash shaitanir rajeem. Bismillah ir Rahman ir Raheem)
               Ar Rahmaaaan
               Alamal qur'an
               Khalaqal insaaaan...
        I also know:  Fabi ayyi alaaaa i rabikuma tukathibaaaan

Son: But that's only 4 ayat.  You only know 4 ayat!!!! I knew it! I know more than you!

Me:  Well actually that last ayat is repeated 31 times throughout the surah so that makes 34 ayat that I know.

Son: (pausing to ponder this and then flatly says)...You cheated.
          

There's a hanger haphazardly dangling from the bathroom doorknob. Let's not get into why it's there or who put it there. To reach a conclusion to these mysteries it would take us through a time warp and onto the set of that Abbott & Costello episode, "Who's on First." So to prevent having to converse with my children for more than 2 minute intervals, i take the hanger to my bedroom, throw it on my bed (i should've hanged it in the closet right then of course, but hey, I'm grown and I can do what i want...right?)

Morning continues with a mad rush to the kitchen to make toast with jam for my son who is on his way out the door to Hifzh class(Quranic memorization). He will be leaving his wholesome lunch at home and will complain later that i didn't risk life and limb at 120 miles per hour on the highway in order to catch up with his ride and catapult his khaki-brown, Land's End thermal lunchbox into their sunroof. This is our ritual and it must be done bi-weekly in order for the world's cosmic energy to continue to flow properly.

While in the kitchen i go ahead and decide that all of my children deserve breakfast today in spite of my empty threats from last night to starve them until they shrivel into jerky meat and sell them to a dog food company. You see, "Not Me" spilled milk onto everyone's food while apparently attempting some kind of circus act at the dinner table (his sisters pay him with fries, garlic bread and desserts for his prime-time entertainment).

After the chaos of breakfast, "Mommy, i don't want jelly on mine," "Mommy, she's looking at me when i chew," and my all-time favorite "Mommy, she put a boogie in my juice," I sit down with my cup of coffee and attempt to steal 5 minutes of downtime before the next catastrophe. It's looking good. The girls are now hypnotised by the DVD i put on for them (4 kids ago I'd never have so many DVD diversions/sad attempts at peace and quiet)and my feet are propped up while i take my first sip of hazelnut cof- WHAT?!!! That blasted hanger is now in my 2yr old's hot hands! She must have quietly followed me (this kid will make a great stalker one day) into my room and taken the hanger back out. "Go put it back now," I scream-I mean, I calmly say to her. Realizing that she has closed the door to my bedroom, I know I've lost the battle again. I can tell her until my lips chap to go put it back, but she hasn't learned the twist and push/pull method it takes to open a door yet. So, because I've vowed that the next 5 minutes belong to me and my coffee, i tell her to just hang the stupid thing back on the bathroom door. We've gone full circle...the story of my life.

After the birth or her 5th child, she noticed the time and experience had begun to wear on her and she felt, well, quite less than desirable. She used to wake up and when she looked in the mirror she liked what she saw. Now, in order to achieve that sentiment she needed additional time to spritz, moisturize, conceal and emphasize.

So one day she was reading the second sentence of the same book she'd been trying to read for the past month. Was she slow, you ask? No, she was not slow. Dear reader, she was, a Mommy. Like so many women, she opted to have her children close together in order for them to grow up together and have a tight sibling bond. She never fathomed they would also band together in siblinghood against the dictatorship of the "Mommy." Anytime she attempted to read, sleep, organise, think or exercise her right to personal hygiene, they were there to disrupt it like a merry band of "down time" thieves. They were so very thorough that she began to believe they were union organised. She often found herself in the laundry, checking their little pockets for union dues slips.

She remembered cynically the days way back when she looked forward to children uttering that priceless word for the first time: "Mom-mee." Now the gross over usage of that phrase had practically become a curse word to her. 4 of her children now uttered, cried, screamed, laughed, coughed, choked "Mommy" on an average of 300 times a day each. She knew this on account of the fact that she took a day off from attempting to read the first sentence of her book in order to take a tally.

As her ears nearly bled from the constant pounding of that word, she had an idea. She could kill two kids with one stone, so to speak---hmm? Oh! Oh yes, you're right that is two BIRDS with one stone. Exactly. Honest mistake. Ahem! So like i was saying she had come up with a marvelous plan! She would change her name just in time for baby number 5 to learn rather than following in the footsteps of the others who shouted that dreaded obscenity at her minute after minute.

Two years passed and I had the pleasure of running into...er, "Not-Mommy Anymore" in the grocerystore. And I asked how her plan worked out for her. Her coy smile said it all. While we continued our conversation her 5th child, now age 2 was feeling a bit left out. So he called out to his mother using the name he'd been taught shortly after his birth, "You're Pretty!" "I want juice." The woman smiled and continued to talk with me. "You're Pretty, buy cookies please!" The toddler began to get irritated by his mother's lack of attention. "YOU'RE PRETTY," shouted the child, drawing the attention of other shoppers. She then turned to him and gave him a great big hug, an 8pack of juice boxes and a family size box of Chips Ahoy chocolate chip cookies. And everyone lived happily ever aft--not so fast! A month later she was blessed with the news of a new baby on the way. I havn't seen her since.

I had a dream that i was surrounded by blood thirsty Pygmies with sharp white teeth. One of the smaller Pygmies sprinkled an ancient powder into my eyes, blinding me instantly as the others tore at my clothes, piercing my flesh...oh wait that wasn't a dream. That was yesterday at the park with my kids.

1. baby helps you choose the most convenient nursing bras...
2. baby stops sucking long enough to ask for a raise in his weekly allowance...
3. baby can describe to you in detail the "lactation process"...
4. baby calls the La Leche League to file a complaint against you for trying to wean him...
5. baby informs you that your left breast is a tad bit larger than your right breast...
6. when baby comes to suckle during a study-break for his SATs...
7. when a night cap for baby consists of a cigarette and breast milk...

Today is one of those busy dizzy days. Just as I attempt to do one thing 5 other seemingly more important issues pop up in my way demanding my immediate attention. So all day long I've been moving thru a spiral of chores and children, phone calls (sitting on hold for what seemed like hours) and knocks at the door. It's now 5 something in the evening and I haven't gotten dressed yet! And the very first task I set out to do, which by the way was most important, didn't get done. And now I'm dizzy, frazzled, haggared, tired, cranky, ugly, stinky, hungry....wow I sound like the 7 dwarfs only I just listed 8. Oh great, now i'm babbling.

Is there spell check on this thing? Because I'm probably mispelling everything over 2 syllables. Anyhoo, just a sprinkle of my day: Woke up at the crack of dawn (literally). So did my kids! Uugggh! By 6 am, I'd cooked two breakfasts, cleaned one poopy diaper, mopped the kitchen floor where my 1 yr old poured her daddy's cup of coffee and reviewed some school work with my son. 8 am, my extra baby came. I watch her weekdays for my friend. And you know what that means? 8:30 another poopy diaper. Meanwhile I'm chasing my 4 yr old around whispering in a loud tone: "SSHHHHHH! " as he jumps from couch to pillow to toy to little sister's head. So little sister cries which causes extra baby to cry which makes me want to cry too. My husband who works swing shift and is trying to sleep comes out, shushes them all one time and the house falls SILENT... GO FIGURE!

Well enough complaining for now. By the way, my 1yr old is crying at me right now for being on the computer in my leisure time (how dare I). I have two words for this day: Early Bedtime.

My Mother, My Best Friend
by Muhammad Alshareef

Aseer ibn Jaabir narrates: Whenever people would come from Yemen, Umar would ask them, "Is Uways Al-Qaranee amongst you?" until, one year, he met Uways. He said, "Are you Uways Al-Qaranee?"

He said, "Yes."

Umar continued, "From Muraad, then Qaran?"

He said, "Yes."

Umar then asked, "Were you once afflicted with leprosy and your skin healed except for a dirham's area?"

Uways said, "Yes."

Umar finally asked, "Do you have a mother (that is alive)?"

He said, "Yes."

Umar then said, "I heard the Messenger of Allah sal Allahu alayhi wa sallam say, 'Uways ibn Aamir will come to you with the delegations from Yemen, from Muraad, then from Qaran. He was once afflicted with leprosy and his skin healed except for a dirham's area. He has a mother, and he treats her kindly. If he was to ever swear by Allah (for something) Allah would fulfill his oath. If you can, request that he ask forgiveness for you." Umar then requested from Uways, "Ask forgiveness for me." And Uways Al-Qaranee did.

Allah ta'aala commanded us in the Qur’an:

And your Lord decreed that you should worship none but Him and that you be dutiful to your parents. If one of them or both attain old age in your life, then do not say to them 'uff' (a word of disrespect), nor shout at them, rather address them in terms of honor / And lower for them the wing of submission and humility through mercy. And say, 'My Lord! Grant them Your mercy as they brought me up when I was small' (Al Isra' 17/23-24).

Ad-Daylami collected from Al-Husayn ibn Ali, that the Prophet sal Allahu alayhi wa sallam said:

"If Allah knew any smaller than 'uff' (tsk) to be disespectful to parents, He would have decreed it to be haram!"

A man came to the Prophet sal Allahu alayhi wa sallam seeking permission to go for jihaad. The Prophet sal Allahu alayhi wa sallam asked him, "Are your parents alive?"

He said, "Yes."

He - sal Allahu alayhi wa sallam - said, "Perform jihaad (in you kind treatment) of them" (Bukhari).

If someone came to you today and offered you a free lunch, no doubt your response would be to smile, speak kindly to them, and reserve a special place in your heart for their memory. Why is it then that our parents receive only cold stares, harsh words and bitter treatment and they are who they are in our lives? For twenty or thirty years they fed us, clothed us, washed us, and showered their mercy on our soft skin. Their love for us never dies even if we do; it is a love that goes even beyond us, to our children and even our children’s children.

Dear brothers and sisters, we all have parents, whether they are with us or not, and many have not understood the severity of their position in our lives and their right to be respected and revered. Today I want to remind you and I of the true position of our parents, may Allah have mercy on them all.

Birr al-waalidayn is a characteristic of the mu'min. Al-Hasan Al-Basree defined it saying, "Al-birr is to obey the parents in everything that they ask so long as it is not to disobey Allah. Uqooq is to disown your parents, denying them all of your goodness."

By the ijama' of the 'ulama, being respectful and obedient to one’s parents is fard. Ibn Hazm said, "(Obeying ones parents) is Fard!" and he quoted the verse:

And your Lord decreed that you should worship none but Him and that you be dutiful to your parents.

To better understand what is meant by birr al-walidayn (kindness to parents), the scholars set the following conditions for one to follow:

One: He should place the pleasure of his parents above the pleasure of anyone else, including himself and his wife and kids – everyone. Two: He should obey them in everything they command or forbid, whether it agrees with his desires or not, so long as they do not command the disobedience of Allah.

Three: He should present them with everything he feels they desire, whether they ask for it or not. He should present it with kindness and mercy, understanding that no matter what he does he will always have some shortcomings in fulfilling the true kindness that his parents deserve.

Allah's love comes when our parents love us. And Allah's anger comes when our parents are angry with us. Ibn Abbas radi Allahu anhu said, "There are three things that will not be accepted if its mate is not fulfilled." And he mentioned,

Thank Me (Allah) and your parents…(Luqman 31/14)

Yesterday I took my kids to the park. They've been closed up in the house for several days. The weather has been a bit cold. It was still a bit nippy out. But the sun was shining. So I dressed them up in their jackets and hats. I dressed my 1 year old girl 5 times because she has recently stepped into the realm of "I can dress and undress myself."
To my 4 year old son's disappointment, we had the park to ourselves. I was thrilled because I could let my daughter loose on the playground without worrying about another child knocking her over in hot pursuit of the swings. So they played. She painstakingly climbed the stairs over and over in order to experience that 4 second thrill of quickly moving down the slide. He grabbed every large stick he could find and pretended to ward off danger from his perch at the top of the monkey bars/park apparatus/dohicky thing.
I sat on the bench, holding my scarf tightly to prevent that all embarrassing "wind blowing the khimar off the head from the back" issue. I stared out at the field in front of me. A huge, green abyss with the signs of Autumn scattered about stared back. I heard it breathing slow, constant breaths. The leaves scattered with each exhale. I smelled the organic aroma of it's breath as the green field called to me. "Run, Girlie Run!", it said. I stood, stepped out of the wood chips and onto the green. I began my pace slowly walking and then briskly jogging. As I drifted farther from the kids, I heard my son call out to me. But I couldn't respond. I continued. Faster and faster, breathing with the green. I became a black streak shooting across the field. I was the speed of light. Running. Yes, this girlie was running. Running to or running from, I don't know.
When I finally stopped, I looked behind to see my babies running after me. They giggled and tumbled as they tried to catch up to me. I opened my arms and they tackled me to the earth. We rolled on the field, laughing. I think I heard greeny laughing too.

1978, a little girl sits in front of the TV screen watching "Wonder Woman". It's her favorite show. Her Mommy buys her a Wonder Woman cape and lasso so the little girl can play dress up. The little girl takes the cape and drapes it over her head and fastens it under her chin. She then puts the lasso on top like a golden crown. "What are you supposed to be?", asked her Mommy. "I'm a Superhero!", the little girl eagerly replied.
2007, the little girl has grown up, married and had children of her own. She's preparing to go to the market. As she puts her Khimar on her head and fastens it under her chin, her little boy climbs onto her back wrapping his arms around her neck. "Look Mommy! I'm a cape. You're a Superhero!"
Mommy smiles to herself and says, "That's right, honey. I AM a Superhero."

A man came home from work and found his three children outside, still in their pajamas, playing in the mud, with empty food boxes and wrappers strewn all around the front yard. The door of his wife's car was open, as was the front door to the house . Proceeding into the entry, he found an even bigger mess. A lamp had been knocked over, and the throw rug was wadded against one wall. In the front room the TV was loudly blaring a Cartoon channel, and the family room was strewn with toys and various items of clothing. In the kitchen, dishes filled the sink, breakfast food was spilled on the counter, the fridge door was open wide, a broken glass lay under the table, and a small pile of sand was spread by the back door. He quickly headed up the stairs, stepping over toys and more piles of clothes, looking for his wife. He was worried she might be ill, or that something serious had happened. He was met with a small trickle of water as it made its way out the bathroom door. As he peered inside, he found wet towels, scummy soap and more toys strewn over the floor. Miles of toilet paper lay in a heap and toothpaste had been smeared over the mirror and walls. As he rushed to the bedroom, he found his wife still curled up in the bed in her pajamas, reading a novel. She looked up at him, smiled, and asked how his day went. He looked at her bewildered and asked, "What happened here today?" She again smiled and answered, "You know every day when you come home from work and you ask me what in the world I do all day?" "Yes," was his incredulous reply. She answered, "Well, today I didn't do it."

ASA all. Well as we know, Eid is over and now it's back to the grind of the world. I'm on my blog at 6:30 in the morning instead of reading Qur'an (bad Muslimah, bad!) because this is the only time i can steal away for myself(as i say this my 1yr old is pulling at my wrists). I can tell the Shayateen are back because why didn't i first think to read Qur'an rather than muddle away at this page? So lemme make this quick.
I'm homeschooling my 4yr old son. Now mind you this is no major assignment.
CONFESSION: Ok, yes it is cause i'm painstakingly trying to mold him into a genius.
ANYHOO....like i said, not brain surgery but sometimes challenging, with 1 yr old daughter interruptions and constant "honey can you do this..." phone calls from the hubby at work AND the fact that after everyone is asleep at night I creep from the warmth of our bed to drive to the hospital for my "quality time" visits with my newborn daughter who is still in the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit). By the way, she's 70 days old now, masha Allah, and doing well.
So i don't get much sleep and am constantly fatigued. So I'm finding that i don't have the passion for homeschooling that I used to have with my now 12 year old son. In fact frankly, I don't wanna do it anymore! When I was teaching in school, i loved to teach. I loved to see their little brains learning. I loved to help shape these beautiful children into intelligent, thinking machines with adorable smiles. And at the end of the day, i loved to see them GO HOME. With homeschooling my child, after the lessons are done for the day, HE DOESN'T LEAVE. I trade one hat for another: Mommy hat off, Teacher hat on. Teacher hat off, Cook hat on. Cook hat off, busboy hat on. Busboy hat off, Maintenance Man hat on ("Who tried to flush this in the toilet?!!!) Maintenance Man hat off, Peace Keeper hat on(son and daughter now fighting over who gets to play with the Buzz Lightyear toy). "To infinity and BEYOND!"(take me with you). Peace Keeper hat off, Entertainer hat on. Entertainer hat off, Nurse hat on (in-house playtime just got out of control and someone bumped something). Nurse hat off, Mommy hat back on again. Mommy hat PLUS Wife hat on, Waitress hat on, Friendly companion hat on, Bedtime Warden hat on....I'm starting to feel like a 9 headed monster (and beginning to act like one too)I think you get the idea.....Uuuuugggggghhhhhhh! Ya'Allah. My mantra: Must patiently persevere, must patiently persevere.....