Ay Shhhhh
August 20, 2009 at 3:42 pm | In Amusing, Baby Sign Language, Family, Kid Talk, Kids, Quran, Speech Therapy | Leave a CommentThough we had to tickle it out of him, at least now Baby Z is vocalizing more. I have scheduled an appointment with the audiologist for him next Tuesday just to rule out any hearing issues. After a few sessions with both the speech and developmental therapist, all of us agreed that Baby Z tends to focus and concentrate so much on what he is doing that he zones out and becomes oblivious to everything else around him. Which is good when it comes to studying at an older age, but for now, the developmental therapist said that we should try to work on that because young children are supposed to be naturally curious. I do believe Baby Z is curious, but he explores in his own unique way. It’s a personality thing. hat’s what the Developmental Therapist said too yesterday when I asked her.
Baby Z seems to be having a little trouble matching shapes, and a few sessions ago it was pointed out in a nice and subtle way that maybe we don’t have enoug stimulating toys for him; toys that will give him those skills. That is true. I got rid of most of the toys when we moved. I guess we have to go toy shoppping, wooden board puzzles and shape sorters mostly.
On Tuesday, the speech therapist taught usthe sign language for colors. Alhamdulillah she is quite well verses in sign language that it is really benefiting Baby Z and all of us.
During the developmental therapist’s session yesterday, as she gave Baby Z a marker and a paper to scribble on, I told her of what I had done with him, regarding Glenn Doman’s method of teaching how to read. I tried it with him. I wrote ‘Ummi’.
We pointed it to him. H claimed that Baby Z had forgotten all the words we had taught him, but we tried anyway.
After a few prompting, of
“Z, what’s this?”
Baby Z made the ‘mommy’ sign. The developmental therapist was amazed. I tried another word, ‘tiger’, but Baby Z didn’t respond.
But she said to me,
“That’s good that he recognizes words like that.”
And I thought it was against any child developmental theories at least in terms of long term consequences. So far I haven’t seens any bad consequences from it with S, alhamdulillah. I think most people who are against teaching children to read at a young age are of the impression that the teaching is done with force and ’school’ style, which would of course burn the child out. But, it’s really not. It’s not done in a way that the child will resent. One has to read up on it to understand the technique and philosophy behind it.
The developmental THerapist yesterday let Baby Z play with playdough, but since he has never played with playdough before, he simply watched it with one of what the kids call his ‘disgusted’ face; crinkled lips, and slight furrow between the eyebrows. He didn’t smash the playdough, but rather picked it up like he would a solid unpliable thing, and placed it back in the container like he would a solid unpliable thing. It was rather comical I have to say.
Everytime the therapists were to leave, I would say to him,
“Z, say bye bye,” and I would gesture for him to wave at them.
Sometimes he would wave and walk them to the door, but other times he would just remain seated and direct his attention elsewhere, to a toy or book and ignore us.
So far, he has walked the therapists to the door though, even if he ignored them when told to wave. I suppose, when he realized that they were actually leaving, he left his toys and pitter pattered to the door to get ahead of them. His objective was: to open the door for them.
It was yesterday that I realized he did this on purpose. He had done it once but I thought it was just a one time thing. But it seems that he’s being a ‘gentleman’, as the Developmental Specialist commented yesterday, by opening the door for his ‘guests’.
He has uttered a few words, and one of them is ‘Ay Shhhhh’, and guess what it means? As I am typing up this post, he is standing beside me, with sticky jammy hands, a jam-smeared mouth littered with waffle crumbs and stained onesie and pants nodding his head and raising his eyebrows to the rhythm of the recitation of Yaseen on the above Youtube video. So far, I have told him to go back to his seat and finish eating his breakfast while the recitation is playing. Whenever it’s done, he would come to me and open his mouth wide, preparing to say Aa and I would on purpose ignore him and not look at him. With great effort, he would close his jaws together, teeth together and let out ‘Shhhh!’ and smile like it’s the greatest joy in this world, especially when I respond by looking at him and saying,
“Yaseen?? ohhh..ok!”
and kissing his forehead. He would then continue to nod his head and hum as if reciting the surah. Add some facial expressions consisting of one eye squint, pursed lips, and crooked eyebrow, and I have myself one of the joys of having children. Ahhh….Alhamdulillah.
Everyone on Wheels
July 23, 2009 at 2:04 am | In Amusing, Family, Kids, Sports | 1 Comment
N finally got a pair of rollerblades after she expressed her desire for them to hubby, who then got them from craigslist. H and S have been rollerblading in the driveway, and along the neighborhood street. The last time went to our Tennis Sundays, I put on S’s rollerablades and found myself horribly wobbly. I grabbed the kids and let out a continuous ‘whoaa!!!” as I whizzed without effort along the park’s pathways. I need to repractice. I had lost my skills since I got pregnant with Baby Z.
Last week, we all tagged along when hubby went to play soccer at the University Family Housing grounds. There was a playground there and it seems that everytime we went, there was always people having BBQs.
Since N got new wheels, all three kids trundled along to the parking lot while Baby Z and I headed to the playground. I had brought a book to read, which I didn’t end up being able to read much because the kids weren’t there to watch Baby Z. They were too busy having fun on their wheels.
Baby Z on the other hand, kept me busy, going from one playground equipment to the other. He seems to be quite wary of tube slides, but is quite ok with normal slides. When I started fiddling with my camera, he took it from my hand (and this boy loves the camera. You can give it to him and he will sit and click through the pictures quietly). I picked up my book and began to read, as he was sitting right next to me on the bench. It was my only chance to read.
Suddenly, he got up and left. With the camera. I read on, keeping him in the corner of my eye. But soon he was too far away and I ran after him. He was practically running too, camera in both hands, poised in front of him. I followed him all the way to the playground where a mother was playing with here kids. To my surprise, which later turned into laughter, which that mother joined, Baby Z ‘pointed’ the camera he was holding towards a fellow toddler and pretended (well, he probably wasn’t pretending!) to take his photo! When i reazlied what he was trying to do, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
“A budding photographer!” said the mother, and we both laughed.
Well, 3 kids on wheels, and 1 with busy fingers!
It Tastes Like Nasi Lemak!
June 15, 2009 at 8:24 pm | In Amusing, Family, Homeschooling, Kid Talk, Kids, Kitchen, Thoughts | 2 CommentsIf I have never mentioned it before on this blog, let me mention it now. Nasi Lemak is my top 5 Malaysian breakfast item, despite its rather unhealthy
effects if eaten daily. It has been a while since I had it with its typical sambal accompaniment of Sambal Ikan Bilis, Sambal Sotong, or Sambal Udang. Because of Baby Z’s allergies, I have made do with eating Nasi Lemak with Ayam Sambal Balado and no hard boiled eggs (which is also one of my favorite aspect of eating and enjoying Nasi Lemak).
Last week, I took out two packets of refrigerated anchovies, bought from Talin in Albuquerque, and commanded S to clean them. Hubby likes them cleaned, whereas I don’t really mind them uncleaned. S had helped MIL clean those when we were in Ohio, and she had done a great job of it too, mashaallah!
Before I knew it, H was sitting with S, helping his older sister clean those darn anchovies. They figured I was making Nasi Lemak, and somehow, someway, I guess I have managed to transfer my love of Nasi Lemak to them too. Now if only I am unlazy enough to wrap it in banana leaves! That would really give my children a Malaysian experience to remember and savor.
That day, I whipped out a typical Nasi Lemak, one that didn’t use substitutes as I used to make in Ohio after we had Baby Z, and if I do say so myself, Allah willed it like that, and it was amazing! Walhamdulillah!
As H ate his fill of Nasi Lemak, he remarked,
“It tastes like Nasi Lemak!”
Of course, big sister #1 had to respond to that, rather smugly,
“It IS Nasi Lemak.”
I could almost see her eyes rolling.
“No, I mean, it’s made right,” and of course little petulant brother had to retort his ‘I know’.
Well, everybody was speechless after that remark, including myself. I take that as a compliment. Thank you, H.
We have been having a family of siblings over for Quran lessons almost every morning for about a month plus now.
This one family has 4 kids, and they have been coming over since summer started. Because there were 4, I asked the mom if she would mind if my kids teach the younger two, so I can have ample time to work with the older two.
When I asked the kids if they wanted to do it, at first they responded with,
“But I don’t know how to do it.”
“Just do it like how I worked with you. I think you can do it.”
Eventually, when they learned that they were going to teach only book 1 and 2, they agreed. And so our journey into the world of teaching Quran began, as a family.
As the kids came, I would work with the older two, while S and H worked with the younger two, who are 9 and 7 respectively. However, just to make sure, I would work with the younger two after I am done with the older two.
After a while, my kids developed relationships with theese kids, and S is even willing to forgo her Monday Horse day.
I had asked her last night,

“Tomorrow, do you want to go to your horse thing, or do you want them to come?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she replied,
“I want them to come.”
It was while these kids were here, that I bustled about in the kitchen making Nasi Lemak. Of course, the smell of anchovies frying and being tossed in the cooked sambal was foreign to them.
“Anchovies? It smells weird!” they remarked.
On the other hand, H and S both came to the kitchen saying,
“Hmm..it smells so good!”
I remember thinking to myself,
“They’re Malays alright.”
And that reminds me, by the way they reacted to their friends’ comments to the smell of anchovies, that Alhamdulillah my kids have a strong sense of confidence in their cultural heritage now. I remember when S used to go to preschool, I would send her with packed homemade lunches, and I avoided processed food, and would instead send her with our usual lunch.
She came home one day with her Laksa Penang untouched, and I asked her why she didn’t finish it, because she loves that stuff.
“My friend said it was nasty.”
I know this may sound absurd, but part of my many reasons for homeschooling is that I want my children to grow up appreciating Malaysian food. I have somewhat both suceeded and failed at that, but at least they are not ashamed of this part of their cultural heritage. I guess so far, we didn’t do too bad after all! Alhamdulillah…
It’s So Posh, Ummi!
April 2, 2009 at 9:18 pm | In Amusing, Community, Family, Kid Talk, Kids, Moving, Thoughts | Leave a Comment
Our relocubes, all loaded and ready to go.
After my frenzied search for movers, and van carriers coupled with istikharahs, we decided to go with ABF U Pack because we had two friends who recommended it. I personally don’t like other people packing my stuff anyway. Call it another boon (or is it curse) of my perfectionism. I mean, how will they know where I want my stuff to be? How will they know how I like my things organized? How will they know the organization system that will work for me? I couldn’t let other people touch my stuff. I don’t even like people cleaning my home or reorganizing my space. Because different people have different styles and preferences, and I like to keep mine. So, I actually savored the process of packing our stuff, decluttering and everything, even though at some point it was stressful. I have always packed my stuff by myself and call me old school, but I really still don’t see how having other people pack your stuff can work (for me). Call me stubborn too.
We actually debated over how many relocubes we would need, because after 7 years of living in that apartment, most of our furniture are completely worn. We knew that we would move one day, so we didn’t bother replacing old and worn furniture, but used them to their death instead. All we had then were boxes, and boxes really don’t take up that much space, if you know how to arrange and stack them.
However, we had bought new beds (mattresses and box springs) for the kids, so we got two. After loading the relocubes, with help from the Malay brothers, alhamdulillah, we realized that had we not bought those mattresses and box springs, we could have done away with the other relocube.

Bit by bit every day gets the work done in the end alhamdulillah!
Packing was always coupled with cleaning and scrubbing. In our first apartment, I only had to scrub the oven and stove because they were going to demolish the apartment complex, so alhamdulillah we didn’t have to worry about the rest of the apartment. In Georgia, I don’t remember cleaning much, but maybe that is because we only lived there for a year.
The oven was pretty easy to clean. It’s the stove top that’s a pain in the neck to clean. I hate, with caps, HATE, electric coil burners because of the drip pans.
Despite putting the aluminm liners and trying to clean them after each use, it was really not practical. Alhamdulillah we have a gas stove now.

The fridge, almost empty.
I have always wanted a chest freezer. My excuse before: I can bake things ahead of time and freeze them. When unexpected guests drop by, I have something to serve them. My excuse now: same thing, plus I can make allergy-free items for Baby Z and freeze them for easy reheating when he needs them. No ‘he-wants-this-so-I-make-it-now’ hassle. As of yet, we have yet to get a chest freezer. Hubby did say to me,
“You do know that an extra freezer uses a lot of electricity, don’t you?”
I do.
It was heart-breaking to walk through the empty apartment, though I think it didn’t really feel that way much because we were just dead tired and just wanted to get it all over with. I wonder if anyone has moved in the apartment yet now.

The plastic corner shelf we had brought from Georgia. It served me well when I had Baby Z.
Emptying the apartment took more time than we had thought. I had already packed everything and we had even loaded the relocubes, but it still proved harrying when it came to emptying the apartment. There was the carpets to take out, and then there was the floor to mop, which hubby and the kids did with cloths we were throwing out. Throughout all this moving process, Baby Z learned to take his naps on his own. Exhausted beyond what he could bear, he would fall asleep anywhere. Once, the girls placed him on two pillows because we had already loaded our mattresses away. This was during the time when we were still clearing out the apartment, but we hadn’t yet checked into the hotel. And now, Baby Z has developed a habit of falling asleep in a prostrating position. Just yesterday, he fell asleep in sujud while we were praying Zuhr. When S picked him up to move him to his bed, he didn’t even stir.

Our empty room...sigh.
As for the hotel, well, that has another story to it. HUbby and I had agreed that we would check into Red Roof Inn, the one close to our apartment, so we could continue clearing out the apartment after we checked in. People say opposites attract. Well, I guess in our case that’s true. I do not like last minute stuff. Hubby on the other hand, despite being organized, does things last minute, and this drives me crazy each time.
There I was stuck in front of the computer, figuring out the logisctics of the move by myself, searching for movers, van carriers and what not. And i told hubby repeatedly,
“Book the hotel now. We know what date we have to vacate the apartment already, so just book it now.”
He kept putting it off, for I don’t know what, but men are wont to do that, don’t they? So that’s no surprise.
Well, he never booked it till the really last minute, and that was also after a lot of pestering from me. One morning, he called me from his office and said,
“I have some bad news.”
I was exhausted at the time, still trying to deal with van carriers.
“I wanted to book Red Roof, and I was looking at the other hotels, I was bidding, and then I clicked and it locked me in. I called them to change but they wouldn’t let me. Our hotel is in Hilliard.”
That’s like 20 or more minutes away from our apartment! I sighed and said,”
“Well, what else can we do?”
It turned out that it was not in Hilliard after all, but in Dublin. Still a distance away, but what was bad was that hubby said that the room he accidentally booked only had one queen bed. So when packing, we didn’t toss out the old sleeping bag (which was hubby’s when we first came to the United States as undergraduates), but kept it for the hotel.

As they grew, they outgrew this closet space, which in Iowa, used to accomodate all of their clothes (when they were babies and toddlers of course!)
The night that we drove to the hotel, we were completely exhausted. We had been cleaning the whole day, and hubby had had to still go to work and pick us up since our van was already picked up by the carrier the day before. We got ourselves a rental van. Alhamdulillah the logistics for this, hubby took care of it. I admit, it wasn’t all me. He did his part mashaallah. In fact, he did it so well that we really managed to avoid a lot of hassle in El Paso walhamdulillah!
THe night that we were to check into the hotel, we haven’t had dinner yet, and with one child with allergies, it wasn’t easy planning and carrying out the foor preps. I had made serunding and rendang the week before our final move. I also cookeed all of the poultry we had in the our freezer and a few of it fed it in the final week alhamdulillah. That part of the planning turned out really well by Allah’s permission, alhamdulilah. I didn’t have to worry about cooking during the final week.

Where the dining table (which was also a multipurpose table) used to be. I remember dressing it in the light blue checkered tablecloth I made, and I dressed the window with light blue polka dot handmade Austrian blind. My 'country' kitchen. I have a weakness for interior decorating. I admit.
It was already dark when we drove out to Dublin. I brought only some of the food because from the looks of the description of the room we booked, it seemed that they might not even have a fridge or microwave. When hubby got out of the van to check in the hotel, he said,
“I’ll try to ask if he can transfer us to another branch.”

I am reminded of how the Hayslters cleaned the apartment duringmy pregnancy, while I was napping, and then left me a 'love note'. Such sweetness. May Allah reward them immensely. Ameen.
Meanwhile, the kids uttered remarks like,
“Ooh! This is a posh hotel!”
Posh. Posh. Posh. H couldn’t stop saying it. I chuckled. The only posh hotel we ever stayed in was when we went to the Texas Dawah Conference, and even that, we didn’t pay for it. It was a five star hotel, and we didn’t pay for it, because Qabeelat Hosna and some generous Houstonians did, jazahum Allah khair.
In the midst of all the poshness, I sat there thinking. In the beginning, I wasn’t too happy about the mishap. It would have been easier to have booked Red Roof Inn that was closer to our apartment. Hubby still had to drive to work, and then drop us off at the apartment to finish the cleaning, and then he had to pick us up and drive us back 15 minutes to the hotel and then go back to work. But in my exhaustion, I suddenly found it hilarious. I started to giggle, then it turned into a chortle and before long I was racked with laughter in the front passenger seat in the cold, dark night.
“What Ummi?”
The kids probably thought I had gone crazy.
“Well, at first, I didn’t find it funny, but now, I find it very funny, that Abi had wanted to book a room in a different hotel, but accidentally booked the wrong one instead. And now, he has to drive us all the way here..” and I resumed laughing.
“Well, I don’t find it funny,” S said with a grim touch in her voice.
I couldn’t stop laughing. In between guffaws, I said to her,

The faithful bathroom that served all of us for 7 years
“Yeah…you don’t find it funny..bec..because..you have to sleep on the floor!”
And then the conversation went towards everything else that we all found funny. By the time hubby came back to the van, we were all too busy laughing.
“Wrong hotel,” he said.
And we burst out laughing even more. We were tired, and we needed to check in a hotel, but as they say, laughter is medicine.
When we finally arrived at the correct hotel, I told him, as he got out,
“Ask them if we can change to a bigger room.”
He got out, returned, and told me he forgot to ask that but that we would go look at the room first.
However, he got out before us and went into the room, and came back.
“So?” I asked.
“We’ll manage,” was his answer.
I was about to open my mouth in protest, but I still had the funnies in me, so I let it go. The kids and I got the bags out of the van wh
While hubby went to the room with Baby Z. It was on the second floor. As we heaved and lugged the heavy bags, he looked ot the bedroom window and waved at us, a big grin on his face. The kids and I grunted all the way up the stairs with the bags and muttered why Abi was being so silly.
“Surprise!”he said.
Subhanallah…the room was fully equipped with kitchennette, a pull out sofa bed, which meant the kids didn’t have to sleep on the floor after all (though H had to because the girls slept on the sofa bed), and internet connection. Surprise indeed. Saved by the pull out sofa bed and kitchennette. Alhamdulillah, that night, I could truly feel Allah’s blessings. It could have turned out ugly had I made a big deal out of hubby’s mistake, but alhamdulillah Allah was so merciful that He gave me the tawfeeq to not make a big deal out of it and in the end, we were rewarded amply, more than what we could ask for.
I was not expecting a kitchennette or a pull out sofa bed, but we lived ratherly luxuriously for a few days before we flew to New Mexico. Alhamdulillah! The price was pretty good too, for such a service, alhamdulillah. Throughout this move, we have really felt Allah’s blessings with us all the way, subhanallah. I cannot express it, and I ask that Allah channels our gratitude towards actions that please Him. May we be of the shaakireen. Ameen.
Never a Dull Moment
March 31, 2009 at 9:30 pm | In Amusing, Art, Family, Kids, Siblings | 2 Comments
What have they done to my baby?
With three older kids and one really young one, I actually get a lot of ‘free’ time. I used to have three babies hanging onto my skirt everyday, but those days are long gone, and I am now surrounded by three older kids who can tease me, make fun of me, help me, ignore me, and bring life into my already chaotic but contented life. Yesterday, as I changed Baby Z’s diaper, I noticed this on his leg. A slightly curved line with short lines across it down its length.
“Who did this to Z?” I exclaimed.
H came and immediately he ran away again, apparently stifling a giggle. Since I had asked the question in a manner that was onthe verge of scolding, he didn’t dare laugh directly as a reply. I have to admit it was pretty funny, and after he left, I burst out laughing too. Later that night, I thought that I had better capture it on my camera’s memory chip before it fades off. As I sat Baby Z on the loveseat in the sunroom, he accomodated me and even smiled, pointing to the ’stitches’ H had ‘given’ him during his ’surgery’, which further drove me to uncontrollable laughter. However, I made sure that H didn’t know what I was doing. I wouldn’t want him to give Baby Z more surgeries.
We have a laundry closet, or what I call a laundry closet, which houses one washer and one dryer (which we don’t use anymore now because we dry our washed clothes outside on the the clothesline hubby had put up rather ingeniously). Today, I realized that there was soemthing residing on top of the dryer. I had recently bought a ‘basket’ to put clean rolled/folded towels in and I had put it on top of the dryer. When I washed some items today, I noticed the thing residing on top of the dryer.

A miserable expression painted on his face.
Remember the Bot Craze? Well, I had seen this particular bot, and I remember it because I said to them,
“Why does he look so miserable?”
And of course, since children hate chores, they reflected their sentiments about cleaning onto CleanBot.
Another giggle eruptor. My life is never boring, alhamdulillah.
Bot Craze!
March 25, 2009 at 2:02 am | In Amusing, Art, Kids, Projects | 5 CommentsWith an abundace of empty boxes, the kids were spurred into creative action. Using what they have, in our sunroom, which is now the official ‘project’ room, they created a line of BOt creations. N, the Bot designer, made a catalog of the many kinds of bots available for order, and together, S and N constructed these bots, all while I was busy cathing up my missed TQ classes. With no TV in the house, and no internet (at the time), they managed to utilize their time with something pretty much beneficial (it’s beneficial that they’re not moping around complaining that there was nothing to do).
When they showed me their catalog, I was very impressed. I couldn’t help smiling and laughing at some of the bots they designed, and even suggested more bots. However, this creative strike lasted only for a few days, as they tired of it, and moved on to other things, namely computer games, after we got internet.
Nevertheless, I will treasure their bots, as I always do their other creations. Even though I intend to put up pictures of our new place, this will take priority because it’s a record of their creativity. I’m still not too happy that it’s something animate (kind of), but I have yet to offer or suggest other halal alternatives.
So here we go, in reminiscence of the Uglies:

The craft area. What a blessing that we have this extra room where they can work on their projects and leave them overnight without messing up their rooms or the rest of the house. Alhamdulillah!

Ruboot and Heartbot standing on a stack of books that were still on the living room floor because we had yet to get bookcases. (Now we have, alhamdulillah)

Ruboot with his 'secret' compartment.

Rubix. He can roll.

The Bots having a party in the backyard, while I was attending my TQ class.

In the backyard

GirlBot in a tree

Heartbot in a tree

Candybot in a tree

Bakebot in a tree

Bots hanging out in the tree, apparently.

And then literally hanging out on the clothesline!
What a party!
The Uglies
January 29, 2009 at 8:39 pm | In Amusing, Art, Crochet, Kids, Mothering | 8 Comments“Ummi, can we take this box?”
Since October, I’ve had boxes lying around in the house, and since October, I have been packing, and since October, my life has been put on hold. Well, not completely on hold, but to a certain extent at least. I guess I can blame it on my extreme dislike for last minute work, that I started packing in October. I expected to move out sometime after December, but alhamdulillah, things turned around, and we stayed.
And now, the packing has somewhat resumed, but not full throttle. Thus, I had empty boxes lying around, which the kids saw as opportunities for unleashing their creativity on.
Without much interest or care, I nodded, thinking that we would find more empty boxes later on.
So they did what they wanted with that empty box, and before I knew it, they had created something that I overlooked for days before curiosity and fascination overtook me.
This morning, as I labeled the photos, I asked them the names of each crocheted character. As S told me, she paused and said,
“Well, actually, they’re characters from a book, so maybe you shouldn’t put them on the blog.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because it might be plagiarism or something.”
To be honest, I don’t know the complete in and out of the plagiarism, but I don’t think kids creating something in imitation of a copyrighted character is plagiarism. Is it?
The Ugly Guide.
This was the book that drew sighs and groans and slaps on the foreheads from both hubby and me, especially when even Baby Z started to carry it with him everywhere. He even fell asleep with that book by his head. He seemed to particularly be drawn to that book, maybe because of its illustrations. So we had the kids return the book.
So this morning, when S interjected and said,
“Those characters are from a book.”
“What book?” I asked, as I continued to label each photo with Photoscape.
Suddenly it occurred to me, and I asked.
“Oh please don’t tell me…” I began, and S slowly uttered,
“The Ugly Guide.”
S giggled nervously. As for me, I was stopped in my tracks, and rendered a forehead-slapping mother with her head in her hands.
There we were, disapproving the book The Ugly Guide, and here they are, recreating the world inside the Ugly Guide, to my ignorant admiration. Subhanallah. But I have to admit. Those Uglies are kind of cute.
Making scraps of old clothes we had refrained from throwing away, (intending to use them as rag cloths especially when the move comes closer), the kids used what they could find around the house to make a home for their crocheted Uglies.
They cut the box in half horizontally, and combined it to make two open enclosed ‘rooms’. The first time I saw this, I told them,
“Hey, you can actually practice interior designing or architectural designs with this.”
I was so fascinated by this (after days of its creation) that without telling them, I whipped out the camera and started clicking.
For days they were playing with this, and for a while, they kept shooing Baby Z to me, so he wouldn’t mess up their ‘house’.
So this morning, we made these captions/labels together.
When they realized I was taking photos of their creations, they jumped up and cleaned it up, placing each character in his/her place. (Slaps forehead…can’t believe I’m actually doing this)
As a proof of my aging, I kept forgetting the names of these Uglies, and had to ask them several times.
I told them we would get rid of the Ugly House when we move. They consented, albeit not without woeful groans.
Of course though, I had fun with the photography session.
I think, after reading some reviews about The Ugly Guide, I might take a deeper look inside in between its covers. The rate at which the kids are reading leave me not up to date with what they are reading, which is one of my parenting problems right now.
Though they do roughly know the shouldn’ts. I dread these upcoming years. I really do. Oh Allah, please strengthen me with parenting wisdom and a lot of patience. Ameen.
Creativity, like all things, can be made bad and good. Proper channeling. That’s what I probably have to do a lot of.
I dig this scarf rack !
The commode. Ahh…kids at this age. I couldn’t help but smile at the ingenuity. Of all ‘furniture’ they had to make, it had to be one of necessity. Smart kids. (Is that really the case?)
And of course, I had to go along with the madness.
Uh oh! A little visitor!
Bamboo skewers I usually use for satay, aluminum foil, an empty toilet paper roll, and some yarn. How come I was never this creative when I was growing up?
When I wasn’t looking, they opened the windows, and set this up on the surface of the air conditioner that juts out from their bedroom window. I discovered this when I was uploading the photos from the camera. It rendered me a head-shaking mother, tinged with tickling amusement.
And the winnah…
This is what happens when you’re cooped up in the house by recurring snow days with plummeting temperatures that make their presence well known even inside the house. Add the hecticness of packing and anticipated move to that, and you have yourself a bunch of really creative kids, not to forget a half crazy mama.
On a more serious note:
Subhanallah. I have to tell them.
Allah created us in the best of molds. That’s it. Suck a lesson out of all this. Milk it. Milk it till it’s dry.
Who Should Have It?
December 15, 2008 at 12:59 am | In Amusing, Kid Talk, Kids, Mothering, Quran | Leave a Comment“Oh! I found something! Kids! Come up here!”
While I sat in front of the computer downstairs, they all ran upstairs, to where hubby was.
Then, just as suddenly, they were all back downstairs, and I was pelted with questions,
“Ummi, who should have this?”
“I should.”
I want it!”
“No, my other one doesn’t have…”
“Ummi, who should this go to?”
This. This was what hubby had confiscated from them, because they were squabbling over it. However, hubby didn’t remember where he had placed it, and for months, as we looked for it, it was declared ‘LOST’. Hubby even had to buy another one, with less features, to aid H’s Quran memorization. And today, hubby found it, sitting in layers of dust behind our layers of mattresses, by the wall where the headboard should be.
A new problem arises.
Who should have it?
H has his new one, which he now claims is not as good as the old one because it has less features. S is vying for it, and is begging me to let her have it. Hubby, in being rained with the questions, sent them to me for the final judgment.
My judgment: reflect it back to them for them to practice problem solving (though hubby kept interjecting. Note: talk to hubby about letting kids solve their own problems).
“The one who deserves itmost is the one who memorizes the Quran,” was the refrain I kept repeating when they all stood around waiting for the verdict.
H even kept asking me,
“How long do you need to think about this?”
“Are you done thinking?”
All this time, we were all standing around in my room watching hubby wrestle with our mattress while trying to avoid flattening Baby Z who was happily trying to jump around on the inviting bed.
I repeated my refrain.
They groaned, as that meant, they have to do the thinking on their own. I escaped them and went downstairs, fending off their pestering and questions.
Of course, before that, hubby had to say,
“Just remember, when I have more money, I will buy a new one with maybe more features on it.”
While this was sinking in, he added,
“But that might be one year, or never, and of course, it’s inshaallah.”
To that, S said,
“Ok, N can have it.”
And to that, I said,
“You’re giving her what you don’t want, that’s not good.”
And to that S retorted,
“Who said I don’t want it?”
“Because you thought you might get the new one,” I said.
“Who said I might get that?” she said.
Man! This girl’s quite good!
Downstairs, as we were getting the food ready, S declared,
“N’s going to have it, for one month. If she doesn’t take good care of it, we take it.”
“Does N agree?” I asked.
N nodded.
“Ok, what if she does take good care of it for one month, then what?” I asked.
“Then she can keep it,” said S.
“Does everyone agree on that?” I asked again.
“No!” H chimed in.
“She has to take care of it again for another month,” he added.
So this was how it went for quite some time, until they all agreed that:
N is to be in charge of it for one month, then if she passes, they will add another month’s probation, and henceafter, if she fails to take care of it properly, it goes to the next person in line, which is S.
Bravo! They problem solved it themselves! For the rest of our dinner, S, who had finished her meal, played some surahs on it, and quizzed N,
“Ok, what surah is this?”
And that was how it went for quiet some time. Saad Ghamidi was heard, and surah guessing was played, and the question of ‘Who Should Have It?” was answered. Alhamdulillah!
Communicating with Baby Z
November 13, 2008 at 1:30 am | In Amusing, Baby Sign Language, Family, Kids, Siblings | 6 CommentsHe’s still not talking yet. I don’t worry, but am relishing and savoring the pace at which he acquires new signs. Hubby complained,
“I see him doing the same signs. Teach him more. Have the kids learns five signs each, and have them teach them to Z.”
Yesterday, when hubby and H came back from the masjid and opened the front door, Baby Z toddled to it as usual, and did the cold sign, his body shaking as he did it.
Today, as I was cutting the frozen banana leaves into small pieces, S held Baby Z on her lap and satd on the kitchen stool. Baby Z touched the leaves and we told him,
“Cold!”
He did the sign, teeth locked together, chin doubling, fists closed tight, and body slightly shaking. Later on, when I held the cut pieces of banana leaves over a lit candle, i told H to find the sign for fire. Once he got it, he went to Baby Z and said,
“Z, fire,” and did the sign.
I was too busy looking at the banana leaf I was holding, but I believe Baby Z did the fire sign.
S asked me,
“Z pointed to this and did this. Is this the sign for flower?”
Her shirt had flowers on, and I nodded, that yes, that was the sign for flower.
Baby Z now is mostly content sitting on the floor, flipping through any books, but when he sees pictures of things that he knows the sign of, he would immediately do the sign, even if no one was looking, meaning, he seems to be ‘talking’ to himself. He even does it while we’re praying, though he also almost made me laugh out loud while we were praying by letting out a sound very much like the sound of a turkey gobbling, in an attempt to say,
“Allahu akbar!”
His chin is elongated and thickened, his cheeks are sucked in and his lips open and close like a fish gasping for air.
I do think his first word is Allahu Akbar. Yes, I believe it is. It must be.
I have a feeling it will be a while before he talks, seeing how we tend to h is every need with just the signs. However, I do also feel that when the time is right for him, he will find the need to talk, inshaallah. Right now, we’ll just enjoy those little fingers in action and save his words for later.
The Babe(S)
November 11, 2008 at 1:33 pm | In Amusing, Family, Kid Talk, Kids, Mothering, Siblings, Thoughts | 2 CommentsI was sorting out my sentiments box yesterday, old letters from penpals, my mom, my friends, cards, etc, when I also stumbled upon some loose leaf papers on which I had journaled when the three kids were toddlers. In fact some was when H wasn’t even born yet, while I was pregnant. Back then, I had attempted to record their antics, thinking it a shame if I didn’t, but after a while I couldn’t keep up, especially after I had H. I’m glad I kept those papers, because ahh…you think you would never forget the time when your child does this or says this and that, but…alas, your memory can only hold so much. You do forget. So, my advice to mothers of young children out there, if you care for it that is
, try to document your toddler’s funny moments or breakthroughs in some way. You won’t regret it inshaallah.
As I read through my jottings, I read some out loud to them. One particular incident, involved a very funny one. S was 2 then, and N about 1. S was playing with the phone, and she happened to press some numbers, and as she did, she said the numbers out loud, and what was amazing was, she said the correct numbers. In my excitement, I called hubby at his office to tell him, and then handed the receiver to S, and hubby talked to her. I was still grinning from ear to ear from excitement and joy that my 2 year old had her numbers down pat. Hubby probably asked her where Ummi was, and suddenly she replied, while looking at me, and talking to her father,
“Ummi…teeth..ada beef!”
I can still roll with laughter at this, as I’m typing, because I can still remember how she used to speak more Malay than English, and I also remember her childish accent (though not from memory, but from one home video we happen to have lying around). I told you, you’ll forget. Believe me. (Oh and for those who don’t speak or read Malay, S meant, “Ummi…teeth…has beef.”
I was grinning from ear to ear with some shreds of meat stuck in between. What a sight!
There was also a time when I was heaviily pregnant with H, and N had not taken her daily nap as usual, thus developed crankiness. I was not happy with that. At the same time, S had pooped, and I had to clean her in the bathtub. So, while muttering and grumbling ans scolding N who was by then crying pitifully at the bottomof the stairs, I took S upstairs and cleaned her. And boy, from my descriptions of that incident, it really wasn’t easy sitting on the toilet bowl, bending over (as much as I could with a pregnant belly) to clean her bum. Out of breath and patience, I snapped at her to put on her own pants and went to my bed and lay down, while N was still crying downstairs. It was close to 4 p.m. Hubby was supposed to be home anytime, and so I waited it out, willing for him to come home that very moment. As I lay there, all fed up, I heard silence downstairs. N was quiet.
I got up, and checked it out. Apparently, S had gone downstairs, calmed her 1 year old sister down, by saying,
“Dah…dah…” and N, did quiet down.
Mashaallah. I guess it reminded me of how nurturing S is, naturally, even at the tender age of 2 plus. And N, that was how she became dependent on her big sister from when she was a baby, I guess. Those two used to sleep with their arms entwined around each other’s neck, drenched in sweat. Now, they no longer do. In fact they even push and kick each other out of the way. I guess it’s time when they want more space. Hmm…
And now, we have our own source of entertainment and laugh-inducing tot: Baby Z. Just yesterday, S told me,
“Umm..guess what Z did. I gave him my black pants, and told him to put in in the laundry basket in his room. He took it, like he knows what to do with it,”
and rolled her eyes.
“And I was at the computer, and when I turned, he was standing in front of the potty, looking inside it, seriously. He wasn’t even laughing or anything. He put my pants in the potty!”
I have to say. I doubled over and laughed my heart out.
“Then what did you say to him?”
“I said to him, ‘Z, why did you put my pants in the potty?’”
“What did he do then?”
“He just did his hands and said, ‘Huh?’”
I doubled over and laughed again.
“I guess he thought thepotty was like the trash, because you guys are always telling him to throw his banana peels away in the trash in the kitchen,” I managed to say when I was done chortling.
I realized that I haven’t written much about Baby Z and his antics. Realistically, I can’t keep up, but I really should jot them down, as much as I can, because the feeling I get from reading those old entries, reminded me of why I wanted to stay home, and reminded me of how much I love being a mother. My babies. They’ll always be my babies.
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