Ramadan Day 10: Al Baqarah 14
September 1, 2009 at 2:09 pm | In Al Huda Institute, Deen, Family, Homeschooling, New Mexico, Quran, Ramadan, Thoughts | Leave a Comment |
| 14: |
| Muhsin Khan: And when they meet those who believe, they say: “We believe,” but when they are alone with their Shayatin (devils – polytheists, hypocrites, etc.), they say: “Truly, we are with you; verily, we were but mocking.” |
The hardest part about our Ramadan activity is keeping it consistent everyday. It’s the goal in Ramadan to fill the kids’ time with doing something that will make us come closer to Allah. It all started out with tryingto make Ramadan a very special time for them, when they were at a young age. They started fasting quite young, compared to most kids here in the US. In Malaysia, I think it’s pretty common to find kids fasting at age 7 or even younger, though maybe not a full Ramadan. I don’t know about now, but I think the Malays are pretty good at encouraging and training their children to fast from a young age. It’s amazing to see how certain cultures have their own strengths with respect to Islam. I have to say, from observation, that if you base it on culture, you can see that there is no culture that abides by what Islam dictates completely. There are cultural practices that emerge and somewhat takes over, and becomes part of the that culture deems as Islam, but is not necessarily so. This is because the basic determinant should not be culture in the first place. In a recent khutbah, in town, that I really like, the Khaatib talked about how Allah created us all differently so we can recognize each other. If we’re all homogeneous, we probably won’t be able to tell one from the other. Wouldn’t that be absurd? And what matters most if taqwa of Allah, not skin color, nor culture, or ethnicity.
Going back to the cultural strength though, imagine if the whole ummah is united, I mean truly united in the sense that we all seek to follow the Quran and Sunnah in its true form, you would have all these strengths put together like jigsaw puzzles! As each culture has its strengths in practicising Islam, if these cultures come together for the purpose of seeking Allah’s pleasure, we would be one amazing Ummah, in reality. We would benefit each other, and wherever we are weak, we will be complemented by the strength of another. Subhanallah…
And I digress.
Subhanallah…I tell them not to draw animate beings; people or animals, and they create their own ‘beings’. *slaps forehead* Allahul musta’an.
For this day, we our usual word to word translation. Then we focused on the words laqoo, khalaw, shayaaTteen, mustahzi oon. I also find that when I do these mini lessons with them, I tend to remember these ayat more myself, subhanallah. You do know your stuff better when you teach. The benefit is all around. You can say it’s an indirect way to memorize, and with meaning too.
laqoo: (root) lam qaf ya – to meet, face to face, sometimes it’s also used for throwing or accepting, because when you accept you have to face what you’re accepting
Arabic is such a beautiful language. Subhanallah. I wish I had learned it like this, or it had been taught like this when I was in high school. The approach to teaching it is pretty important, as it is with any other subject. Then again though, hidayah comes from Allah, and for us, sometimes, we are just not ‘open’ to that guidance until a determined time. And all of that is part of the beauty of Allah’s wisdom.
Khalaw: khala means to be empty, and in Malaysia, the word khalwat is quite a common word, (unfortunately) and the connotation is bad too. But the meaning comes also from the root of the word.
ShayaaTteen: (root) Sheen Tta Noon; means to be far away. Far from the truth and far from Allah’s mercy. And in this ayah, this may refer to the leaders of the hypocrites and it can also mean that this word is used to denote the evilness of what they’re doing, and because these leaders command people to do evil.
Mustahzi oon: the kids had quite a hard time trying to figure out the root for this. I keep giving them the hint,
“Whenever there is a meem in front of a word, usually it means a place of that word or a people of that word. And the wau noon at the end usually indicates plural. So what’s left?”
Ramadan Day 8: Al Baqarah 11-12
August 29, 2009 at 2:42 pm | In Al Huda Institute, Deen, Family, Homeschooling, New Mexico, Quran, Ramadan, Thoughts | 2 Comments |
| 11: |
| Muhsin Khan: And when it is said to them: “Make not mischief on the earth,” they say: “We are only peacemakers.” |
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| 12: |
| Muhsin Khan: Verily! They are the ones who make mischief, but they perceive not. |
Baby Z joined us today for our lesson post fajr. He has been sick for the past few days and I haven’t been to taraweeh at the masjid for the past two nights. To be honest, I don’t really feel like socializing much anyway, especially not in Ramadan. So the kids have gone to community iftars and taraweeh without me, thus inciting questions such as,
“Where’s your mom?”
Even from when we were in C-bus, they’ve had to field these questions too at the masjid, because they always went with hubby, while I stayed home because it was just too much of a hassle to go and take Baby Z, especially when his eczema was bad. And here, now, I’m starting to skip out on events like these, choosing only to go to some and not attend all of them. I think I overdid it from the moment we moved here, and that is why I was suffering from ‘too much socializing’ that resulted in a mental and physical breakdown. I need to be alone a lot of time to energize. And merely staying home, (and I think every mother knows this) is not necessarily ‘time alone’ especially when you’re homeschooling.
Yesterday, when I asked the kids if they wanted to go to taraweeh, they said yes. I told them I was not going because Baby Z was still sick and I didn’t want him to be around a lot of people while his immune system is weak. S responded,
“Oh now people’s gonna ask us where you are.”
“Last time a lot of people asked where you were.”
Last week I didn’t go to the community iftar at the masjid because I had class, and a headache. This week (tomorrow), I’m not going partly because of Baby Z and partly because I just don’t feel like socializing. There will be time for moderate socializing at Eid time inshaallah. I’ve begun to realize and actually see that Ramadan is a little too precious to spend socializing, yes, even at iftars. Even in C-bus, I spent most of time cooped up in the house, and when I do socialize, it’s usually at ilm-seeking events or just some hanging out with a small group of close friends. They are actually more meaningful when done in small bits, at least for my personality.
I’m even tempted to not attend any iftars all throughout Ramadan, except for one where we may invite some people over. This however is not discussed yet, and I keep looking at the time, and think that either I’d have to rush people to eat quickly and eat little so we could clean up and make it to the masjid in time, or relax and miss taraweeh. I’d hate to rush people and I’d also hate to miss taraweeh. It’d have to be some wise dawah on our part, and some really understanding company.
Today’s lesson comprises of ayat 11 and 12, which continues on about the hypocrites. Not many new lessons or root words today for the kids, but they did get a second dose of yash’ooroon. I had to give examples so they understand what perceive means. Some examples include one camping in the wilderness, in the dark of the night and sensing/perceiving that there is an animal lurking, hanging around the tent. We also talked about the two types of fasad (corruption); intangible (backbiting, spreading lies, inciting enmity etc) and tangible (pollution, logging, oil spills on the seas). So far’ we’ve had many doses of the word ‘tangible’ and ‘intangible’. This should cover the kids’ vocabulary too, mashaallah.
As I am typing, H is in the kitchen, gettig the ingredients out to make Sticky Buns.
“I love baking, but I hate cleaning,” he said as he was going back and forth from the dining room to the kitchen.
This morning he was sleeping at the table, because he didn’t have sufficient nap yesterday. After jumuah, we had gone to Marshall’s to get each of them a bin to put their school stuff in. I had them continue their report writing yesterday before Jumuah and I couldn’t wait to get those organizational bins to ease my own headache of clutter complaints.
Considering that, I just told him to make the bread dough up till the first rise and refrigerate it, to be continued tomorrow. I also have class today, in an hour or less, inshaallah. Baby Z also has a doctor’s appointment at 11:30 a.m. So it’s quite a full day today. I plan on making Mee Goreng (Fried Noodles) today for Iftar and send some with the kids to the community Iftar at the masjid. I need to finish up my Quran reading too.
Last night as I was doing the Heartwheel Journal, I read the next day’s lesson/reminder and was struck by the reminder that if we get it ‘right’ we will realize that everything we do that is noble is worship. I used to silently lament that because I’m doing stuff with the kids, I miss out on some Quran reading and what not, but if I pay special attention to my intention each time I do something, they will all count as ‘easy’ ibadah inshaallah. Why make it difficult on ourselves? And this is a great reminder for mothers, especially mothers with very young children. These mothers usually miss out on taraweeh at the masjid, etc because of these young children, but if the intention is paid attention to, and the perspective is altered, gratefulness can emerge, resulting in complete acceptance and reward is gained biizhnillah. Islam is made easy. Why do we have to complicate it? I sorely need that reminder.
Ramadan Is Around the Corner
August 18, 2009 at 2:51 am | In Deen, Homeschooling, New Mexico, Ramadan, Thoughts | 1 CommentBut why do I feel somewhat down about it? I learned that the Taraweeh here is only about half an hour and they don’t read the whole Quran. Not many sisters attend it, that they don’t really need babysitting during taraweeh. And this is the year I am finally able to attend Taraweeh with no breastfeeding babies and kids are old enough to stay home. Slap in the face for all those years I wasted.
I really wish right now I’m back in C-bus with my sisters. I really do. However, this is a test from Allah, and I just have to pass it. Ramadan gives me a lot of hope. Dua time. I just hope that with it, things don’t get more complicated. Worst case, I will lock myself up at home and never come out until we move away. They say when there is fitnah going around, you should go up a mountain and stay there till the fitnah goes away. Maybe I should do that.
Like I said, I think I’ll lock myself up at home and never come out.
This morning, I sat down with each kid and we discussed their personal interests, goals, divided into Islamic, Personal, Self Care, Family and Academic. Then they set out to make their Ramadan goals and Ramadan Dua List. I have yet to make mine. Shame on me.
I gave S Math Smart Junior by Marcia Lerner to use for her math. I am also planning to do a math game, puzzle, activity with all the kids everyday inshaallah. On top of exercises and review.
I had them take the learning style test yesterday and it turned out that S is more visual, which is easy because a lot of curiculum are geared for the visual, or rather, should I say that the old traditional school system caters a lot for visual, so she can learn indepently.
N and H though are more kinesthetic, so that will require me to come up with creative hands on activities for them inshaallah. It turned out ok because as I was looking at high schooling information for S, it makes it easier because her learning style preference is suited to high school and college learning.
The best thing that happened today was The Fasting and The Furious Ilminar, walhamdulillah. And when I was sitting with the kids individually today to discuss their goals, we got some pretty interesting stuff mashallah.
Welcome to Texas! Part II
August 5, 2009 at 10:09 pm | In Desert life, Family, New Mexico, Siblings, Thoughts, Travel | Leave a Comment
The moment hubby revved up the engine and started driving after praying Fajr with the kids at th rest area which we had stopped at for the night, I sought a comfortable position and fell right asleep. Nothing like a moving vehicle to rock me to sleep. However, I soon woke up to find ourselves at another rest area. Hubby killed the engine and went to sleep. I turned around and saw the kids all still fast asleep. The sky was illuminated by the freshly risen sun, and to my right, I heard the flushing of toilets. Then a lady janitor came out. For a while I contemplated getting out of the van to go to the restroom, since all the toilets at the other rest area were too filthy. But I was too overcome with sleepiness that I continued sleeping (yes, despite the lack of movement) and after about an hour or more, hubby resumed driving.
When I did wake up, it was to a wonderful scenery. There were rolling hills to the right and left of us. Green. I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. The first few times that I did open my eyes, I remember seeing the green backed up by the morning sky, but I had fallen right back to sleep. It was later on that I was able to stay awake and appreciate the green we were driving by. If I had had amnesia, I would have thought we were back in the midwest! It was very welcoming and beautiful. It was a nice change from the desert. It was what I have been craving all these months. It lifted my spirits. All my stress were strewn about in the desert back home. I guess I needed the rejuvenation from the greenery. And the cliffs, they were beautiful. The layers of sedimentary rock looked like cake layers to me. Subhanallah…
I asked the kids,
“What kind of rock is this?”
H was the one who answered. he didn’t exactly remember the term, but merely said something like,
“Semi something,”
We had calculated our arrival in Houston and expected to be there around 10 a.m., but we encountered some traffic as hubby followed Google map’s directions and recalculated our arrival to be around jumuah time. I was bothered by our state of cleanliness and badly wished we could take a shower. Lo and behold, subhanallah, Allah handed us the opportunity when we stopped for gas. It was a Chevron, a travel plaza. While hubby filled in the gas tank, I asked him,
“Do they have showers here?”
“I don’t know, try and ask.”
I went in the plaza and headed for the restroom where the girls were already brushing their teeth. I wanted to do more than brush my teeth!
“S, come with me. I want to see if they have showers here.”
Right across the hallway, indeed I saw a sign saying ‘Showers’, but as I tried each door, they were all locked. So I went up to the cashier and asked the lady if they were locked because they’re occupied or if it’s because we have to pay.
It turned out to be 5 dollars, so I went back to hubby and told him. he paid for it, got a towel, two small soaps and the huge key to the shower. Surprisingly, the shower stall was quite clean. All of us showered, including Baby Z. My spirits were further lifted as I put on a change of abaya and hijab, and socks. I was ready to meet my sisters in Houston.
Well, who would have known that we were to encounter another set of downpours as we went into Houston? We drove through sheets and sheets of rain as we neared Houston, and with that, came bad traffic. had trouble finding the hotel too, mostly because I gave hubby the wrong direction. So he missed the Friday prayer, but when we got there, I met a sister from C-Bus I did not expect to see at Ilmsummit.
It was a beautiful reunion, at least I think so. I felt completely at home somehow amidst all these sisters, some of whom I have known from before, and some of whom I don’t know. K, even got to introducing me to her roommate, our Taleem tafseer teacher, subhanallah! I sat in, with permission which K asked for, in one of the sessions. As we were leaving the hotel to go to Id’s place, who did we bump into other than Sh Yaser?
We were going down the steps, heading towards the van parked in the open parking lot, me and the kids first and hubby behind me. It was then that I noticed a car stopping by us, and I happened to look and saw Sh Yaser looking at hubby and waving at him. I stopped and told pointed Sh Yaser out to hubby, who probably already saw him anyway.
Sh Yaser stopped and talked to hubby while I waited with the girls. Baby Z was ready to go to the van, and so was H. I called out to H to go and shake Sh Yaser’s hand, and he hesitated. Sh Yaser then turned to look at him and said,
“Oh, come on!”
So H went, and then to my utmost surprise, little Baby Z started walking past me, towards Sh. Yaser. In no time, he was by Sh. Yaser’s side, just standing there and waiting.
When Sh Yaser realized he was there, he turned to Baby Z and took his hand and kissed it.This little toddler is so unpredictable. One moment he can be so reserved and shy, and another moment, he can be so bold as to walk up to the a person waiitng to shake his hand. Or maybe, he just recognized Sh Yaser from our weekly class in El Paso. Whatever it is, alhamdulillah!
“Welcome to Texas,” was what Sh Yaser said to us.
That was another highlight of our visit to Houston, I must say. Having Sh Yaser moved away from El Paso is such a devastation to me. I already miss him even thugh we don’t live in El Paso. El Paso is not the same without him there.
The next highlight of that trip is my reunion with my college friend whom I have not met for seven years. The last time I saw her, she had only one child, same age as my H, and we were both visiting Malaysia at the time. Since then, she had had more babies, and the three that I have have grown, with the addition of two more, one living. We stayed at Id’s house for the rest of the our stay in Houston. They had just moved back to Houston from Alaska and she has not finished unpacking her boxes. I felt bad staying at her house considering she is pregnant with the fifth child, the oldest being H’s age, and they had just moved in the house about one week ago. But as K told me at the hotel earlier, when I told her of my dilemma,
“Oh, don’t act like a guest. You just help her!”
That’s the Somali spirit! Mashaallah!
Saturday night's dinner - Mee Sop, and beautiful pitcher of Air Bandung
Our kids bonded, and our husbands looked alike, with different ‘progressions’(hubby’s word, not mine) in their male pattern baldness. It was a nice sitting with an old friend and chatting face to face after spending hours on the phone all these years, much to our husbands kind understanding.
Air Bandung. I just loved the color!
We met a couple other families, one of which was with us in Iowa, and also my high school senior. On Saturday, we went again to the Crowne Plaza and this time, I brought Id along. I was hoping to catch Sh Yaser’s session on fasting, but didn’t. However we did manage to sit in on the khatirah after Zuhr done by a sister, which was later critiqued by Sh Yaser. I was content. We left Ilmsummit.
Love the jug too!
I got to meet who I wanted to see and even more alhamdulillah. A little of my heartache in missing C-bus was soothed. To top it off, I even got my hands on Na’ima Roberts’ From My Sisters’ Lips on Friday. Good thing I got it that Friday, because on Saturday, when we scoured Darussalam’s booth, I coudln’t see it anymore. I got a couple more books though, Zaid Ibn Thabit and Uthman Ibn Affan.
I also got my hands on some Asian grocery stuff that I couldn’t find in Albuquerque; namely Kaya, lemongrass stalks, laksa, and gula jawa and serbuk kari Malaysia thanks to Id. That trip proved to be more than I expected, in a good way alhamdulillah. Baby Z had trouble sleeping the first night we were in Houston, because he wanted to sleep with S but S didn’t want him to sleep with her. Somewhow, while I was in the bathroom, Baby Z fell asleep with hubby in Iz’s room where hubby and I slept. The second night, S agreed to let baby Z sleep with her, so he slept with his big sister. All the kids played so nicely together alhamdulillah. It tickled me to see Baby Z playing with Baby Hz as they were about the same age.
My kids loved Hz, as they love babies, especially the girls. Once N said to me,
“Hz is smarter than Z, because he can speak and do some stuff.”
I laughed. Even though Baby Z is older by 4 months than Baby Hz, he is not talking yet, and N just switched to the other side, in favor of Baby Hz. I have never thought of how Baby Z’s lack of speech may have impacted the kids. I remember telling S way back, when I was still pregnant,
“Next year, when you are done with your test, the baby will already be walking and saying ‘Na na’”
Subhanallah, how great is Allah’s Wisdom and planning. I would have expected the baby (Baby Z) to be talking by now, but, Allah has other plans for him. That, is truly humbling.
Sunday morning, K T invited us over to her house for brunch. Subhanallah, Houston is truly filled with utter hospitality, from Qabeelat Hosna to the Malaysians living there. The last time we went to Houston, K T’s family showered us with their hospitality, and this time, even thuogh we didn’t stay at their house, they still managed to embrace us with their hospitality.
K R, my senior and fellow temporary Iowan residents, also did the same. We left Houston that Sunday, around 2 pm (later than we had planned) with home cooked food, packed lovingly by K T and K R. Last time, we also left Houston with K T’s food. May Allah reward them all with immense goodness. Ameen.
We drove back home without stopping to sleep, because hubby had to work the next day. I had expected to drive whie he slept part of the way, but when I asked, he said no. So, he drove all the way back, not without sleepiness though. We passed San Antonio, this time, on the highway. It was beautiful. As we passed it, hubby asked H,
“Do you think it’s Asr yet? How can you tell?”
It was time to practice what Sh Yaser had taught us. And H remembered it.
Double the shadow of the object, plus the excess length. We stopped for gas in a little town just as the sun was about to set, in time too, because the fuel tank indicator was almost at E. Hubby and the kids prayed at a parking lot behind the gas station.
The rest of the night was hard on hubby. Despite that, he still refuses to hand over the wheels to me. But then again, I’m not good behind the wheel at night anyway. It felt like ages before we even reached El Paso. Hubby kept saying,
“Where is the downtown? We’re not even there yet.”
On the way to Houston, we passed by the border patrol. Something new we learned is that you have to bring your passports with you when travelling in New Mexico and even Texas, because of the vicinity of the border to Mexico. Since it was pouring on the way to Houston, we were waved off at the checkpoint. On the way back to New Mexico, there were no checkpoints. I have to say that driving past El Paso at night, past the downtown is amazing! On the way to Houston, I couldn’t take my eyes off Mexico. Yes, you can see Mexico. There is just something about seeing the lights spread out. I have always loved air travel, and this is one reason why I love it; you get to see towns from above, especially at night.
We got home around 2 a.m. alhamdulillah. I felt a little sad that we were home, because Houston has such great people and a great environment minus the heat and humidity, but it actually also felt good to be sleeping in our bed after the long drive. The houseplants didn’t fare too well. Before we left, we had lined them up by the staircase and watered them a lot, but somehow, the water pooled. I guess the heat didn’t really evaporate the water as I thought it would. The chilli and bell pepper on the other hand, thrived inside. I had brought them into the sunroom, well protected from arduous sunlight, and they actually looked healthy. I had planned to leave the house spotless before we left for Houston, but Thursday was so hectic that I didn’t get to carry out all of my plans, plus, we were on the verge of not going to Houston that day. If hubby hadn’t insisted, I would have probably continued sleeping and giving up on the idea of going to Houston altogether. I’m glad he insisted. Thinking back, I would have been multiply depressed had we not gone.
Sy had told hubby,
“Move to Houston.”
Hubby and I discussed the possibility, but we concluded that the possibility is pretty slim since hubby would most probably be affiliated with universities, and Houston is a great job market for engineers and computer people, not necessarily academicians. Oh well, Allah, in His Wisdom, has put us in this town. We have made istikharah. I can’t say I regret it, but I have to admit it’s a real test for mer personally at least. I accept this as a personal test for me, and as long as Allah has decreed that we stay here, I will try my best to bear it. Who knows, I may even love it here such that when we move away, I might miss it as much as I miss the other towns we have lived in. Inshaallah…
No TV?!
June 19, 2009 at 10:50 pm | In Deen, Family, Mothering, Thoughts | 2 CommentsYes, that’s right. No TV. We don’t have a TV in the house. I knowe we just moved across the state, but as far as I know, and can afford it, we’re remaining without one.
Anyone who has been reading this blog for the past few years probably knows my dilemma and nagging problem with having TV in the house. Ever since we were in Columbus, I have had this intention the moment we move; we will not have any TV in the house.
I weaned the kids, and myself from the TV back in the summer of 2006, after explaining to them the whys, though I think, after listening to their remarks and comments about it, I should remind the reasons every now and again. So, since they were weaned, they haven’t been addicted to it. As for me, I have to say that my hijrah from watching TV to watching no TV has been somewhat like a rollercoaster, and looking back, I think it is because there was a TV sitting in the living room. It also doesn’t help that someone in the house keeps turning it on. It really did a number on me, and subhanallah, that hijrah, personally, hasn’t been easy.
I made my point pretty clear: we’re not going to have any TV in the new home. Alhamdulillah for a pretty flexible husband. I don’t think it was easy for hubby either, and I sensed a rebellious streak in the beginning, but I also sensed somewhat of a blessing from Allah in all of this. Having Baby Z helps too. Helps in convincing hubby that we don’t need a TV in the house.
However, I was also aware that Shaytaan works in mysterious ways, in ways that we can easily overlook. The seven steps through which Shaytaan attacks us is deep rooted in my mind, thanks to Muhammad Alshareef’s When Wolves Become Shepherds. Shaytaan never gives up, ever. I realize this. And once, from the virtual influence of something as sinister, I was temporarily sucked into a different kind of TV; via the internet. I felt so guilty, so sinful, that I made dua for Allah to forgive me, and to make me strong. I fought the desire, and alhamdulillah, I think now, I’m safe. Alhamdulillah. Of course, the battle is just getting more heated. It’s not over. Not until the moment of my death.
Now, I’m not out to say that everyone should unplug their stupid boxes in their homes and dump them in the trash. I’m just talking about my own personal, well, a family affair now, hijrah here. For me, the few second commercials rife of almost naked and alluring women, subliminal messages of rafath, and a lifestyle of evil are the most harmful of all. The TV has its good and bad, but just like alcohol, I think its harm outweighs its good.
When someone in town found out we don’t have TV in the house, they were surprised. Well, I told them we don’t have TV in the house. What they found out was that my son told their son that he’s not allowed to watch TV, play video games, or watch movies. Makes me sound like someone they should be wary of, doesn’t it? I don’t blame them if they think so.
A sister also offered us her TV, as she was moving. When hubby told her I don’t like it, she simply laughed it off. The next time I met her, she asked me again. I politely declined, without offering further explanations. Some things are better just left unexplained, if explaining it would only cause more controversy. I’m learning to withhold myself now, saying some things only when I deem it the right time and place.
Yes, I am aware that living without TV in these days is common now, because we have the internet. That’s what I meant when I talekd about Shaytaan working in mysterious ways. And that, I have no doubt, will be our fitnah. May Allah protect us from it. Ameen.
This is one of those things, just like homeschooling, that sets me further apart from the mainstream Muslims. I have to admit that at times, I begin to doubt myself.
Maybe I’m being too strict. Loosen up!
But then, I look at my children, and I look at how they have grown up to be so far. I can’t ruin that.
Islam began as something strange. It will end as something strange. People may hurl accusations, labels and hurtful words at me for this. People may even make me feel horrible for doing this, saying I’m going overboard, that in this era, we need to be balanced, that we need to ‘fit in’ and ‘integrate’. Believe me, I’m not trying to be rebellious. I’m not trying to set myself apart. If that happens, then it’s a result, but it’s not my intention. My intention is for my personal improvement. Different people have different problems, different strengths and different weaknesses. And we all have our own pace at which we move forward or backward. I only ask that Allah accepts this of me, and that I’m doing something which pleases Him, for it is His pleasure I seek.
I am aware this is not easy to live with. Within the family, we’re fine, alhamdulillah. I don’t hear kids complaining of wanting to watch TV. Over the years, they have learned to occupy themselves with things to do, be it reading, arts and crafts, quarelling, baking cookies, or playing outside. I think they have pretty rich childhoods, thanks to no TV in the house.
I remember when they were smaller, I had taught them to press the mute button whenever songs come up in their cartoons. After a while, I grew lax and didn’t enforce it much, and I clearly remember that feeling of regret creeping all over me. Children, they are born with fitrah. It is us parents who shape them into who they are. When they were muting the songs, they were doing it as something normal. But when I taught them to mute the songs after letting them listen to the songs for a while, I noticed that they were more resistant. And oh, the regret I felt, was unbearable. I felt that I had failed as a Muslim parent. But alhamdulillah, human beings are pretty pliable. We bounce back.
I don’t really dare say much more, because Allah may very well test me through my children (Oh Allah, please do not test me through my children), but so far, I am content with them. Being a parent at any time and age is not easy. It never was easy.
Sometimes parents make decisions based on their upbringing, which can go either of two ways. Sometimes, we have parents who disagree with another parent’s decisions. Every parent wants what is best for her/his children. And every parent has his/her own opinions, reasoning behind his/her decisions. I don’t claim to be so confident with mine, that it is the absolute right thing to do, and the ’should’, but I do ask that Allah blesses all of us parents with guidance, for we need it the most in order to guide our progeny down the line.
It is only with His guidance that people are led aright. One may have grown up in a non practicing environment, but when Allah’s guidance enters his heart, he may be the best of Muslims among those who grew up in a highly practicing environment. One may have grown up in a highly practicing environment, yet, having lost Allah’s guidance, he might be the worst of people in a non practicing environment. Who are we then, to say that our way will definitely produce highly practicing Muslims? It is not in our hands alone.
That is the beauty of it all. It is not in our hands alone. The fact that it is not so is a constant reminder of our vulnerability, of our weakness, and of Allah’s power, might, and sole reign over the universe.
May Allah shower us all with guidance upon guidance and keep on it till the moment we return to Him. Ameen.
Missing the Green and Maybe Something More…
June 19, 2009 at 3:38 am | In Community, Desert life, Family, New Mexico, Thoughts, Touching | Leave a Comment
Take my hand lil bro, and let's run through this life- giving element together!
Ahhh…summer and sprinklers. The two should be synonymous, especially here in the scorching desert. Last weekend, we went to the outlets en route to El Paso to return a Kitchen Aid blender we had bought during the Memorial Day weekend. I was crestfallen upon opening the box with excitement only to discover that the container is plastic, and not glass. It was a refurbished blender, so we got it for a good price, but thinking of PCB and its effects, and in my endeavor to avoid plastic, I decided to return it, despite being quite desprate for a second blender that will be exclusively for smoothies and non onion, spices, chilli ingredients. Alas, the avocados lying in wait to be made into the Indonesian Pokat went to waste.
On the Memorial Day Weekend, I took reprieve from teaching Sunday School, and excused myself to go and finally do some shopping for the house. Ever since we moved here, we have never had a proper opportunity to shop during the weekends, because I immediately started teaching Sunday school on the second or third week after the move. Life from thereon was very hectic, as I was also teaching on the side. Alhamdulillah though, for the opportunities to bank some deeds for my akhirah.
The sky that hot day...a calming blue.
Hubby, Baby Z and I drove to the outlet, leaving the 3 kids at Sunday school and with the help of a sister who picked them up and dropped them off. It was my first time at the outlet, after seeing it only from a distance from the highway each time we drive to El Paso. It was hot, crowded, and did I mention…hot? It was hot!
No green, except for very few. I didn’t know what it was, but I was suddenly transported back to the East Coast, the Midwest, and 2004. The outlet we had gone to in Pennsylvania, nestled amidts the rolling hills and generous green valleys suddenly flooded my mind. And as I strolled along the rows of stores at the outlet in El Paso, I couldn’t help but notice how barren it was. I remembered the outlet en route to Michigan, one summer in 2004, which we had visited when I was pregnant with J. The baby clothes we had bought there, we hung in my closet. The day that we visited that outlet, there weren’t many people. It felt almost …deserted. And that feeling accompanied what was to follow. On the day that we came home after being told that there was no heartbeat, I remember rummaging through my closet looking for those baby clothes. They were gone. Hubby had taken them and hid them, for fear of me finding them and getting more grieved.
And all of a sudden, it all came back to me. Tears spilled out, as if it had just happened yesterday. I couldn’t believe I could still produce those tears for J. But I did. Now, I am reminded of a friend’s statement regarding me leaving behind J in Columbus. When she said it, I never thought it a big deal, but maybe, maybe it’s in my subconscious. Maybe, it’s making its presence dominant amidst all my missing good ole Columbus. My friends, our life there, our memories, all triggered by a visit to the outlet in the desert. It sounds absurd, yet it made perfect sense.
Ever since we moved here, my life has been put somewhat on a fast forward, which is both a boon and a curse. A boon because it distracts me from moping, and a curse because it didn’t give me a chance to gradually ease into the moving process. However, the moping process soon caught up nonetheless. I used to welcome the community potlucks, but after a while, I began to dread them, because preparing something for it, while having to teach at Sunday school was no easy feat. I need a break so I can cook for and with pleasure again. There were so many things swimming around in my head and heart, that I think they manifested themselves profoundly in my Facebook statuses. One common factor: I miss Columbus. That’s not to say I abhor LC, but it is just in my nature to have some problems adjusting to a new place everytime we moved. Melancholy may very well be my submerged middle name.
the position he took and maintained
Back to the outlet. Well, we went there a second time with all the kids this time. It was still hot. The first time we went, we had placed Baby Z right in the midst of the the interactive fountains, and he had stood as still as he could, apparently not taking pleasure in the experience. I had said to hubby,
“Maybe if the kids are here, he’d enjoy it.”
I remember one visit we had to OSU hospital, after which we stopped by the fountain, and the kids all had played in it, yes, Baby Z included. He even protested when it was time to go home. And now, we put him right in the middle of the fountain in the heat, and he stood as passively as he could.
So the second time we went, I thought Baby Z woud act differently. Well, he didn’t. He did the same thing, that frame after frames of the photos I took looked like the same snapshots. H got drenched though, and after some hesitation, N plunged in too. S, remained on the sidelines.
All in all, it was an enjoyable experience with all the kids. Alhamdulillah. Though I still miss the midwest and the east coast, and the fact that hubby is flying to Washington D.C. this weekend for a whole week, without us, just makes it even more unbearable. Oh well…the water has receded, the fountains have stopped. It’s about time I stop moping as well.
The end
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.
Sambal Ikan Bilis - The notorious Anchovies
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…
What Happens When Ummi Sleeps In
May 14, 2009 at 4:10 pm | In Desert life, Family, Kids, Mothering, New Mexico, Thoughts | 3 CommentsI’ve been skimping on sleep lately, especially during the hectic week of travelling (I owe this a post), so this morning, I slept in after Fajr. Since Fajr is now around 4/5 a.m. and sunrise is around 6 a.m., when I woke up, it was close to 9 a.m. I know. That’s a long ’sleep in’. Well, I had many days worth of sleep to make up. Even that is not enough.
While I was debating with myself whether to get out of bed or not, I thought I heard the vaccuum downstairs. Yesterday, when I went downstairs, the kids were already up and about, and the living room looked like it had been tidied up. As I soon found out, S had tidied up the living room, H had swept the floor and S had mopped it. They had also vaccuumed the living room. Nice! A mother could sure get used to that every morning.
When I came downstairs this morning, the house was cleaner than it was last night (I was too out of sorts to clean it before going to bed). I had peeked over the landing from my room and again, the pillows were neatly arranged on the couch and love seat. As I passed by the kitchen, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes! Usually, there would be a jar of opened peanut butter, strawberry jam, spread knifes on empty plates full of crumbs, sliced cheese wrappers, and opened bread containers littering the countertop, greeting me in the morning. Today, I was pleasantly greeted with a countertop that is free from all the eye sore, and the only thing laid out were two blue place mats, nicely arranged next to each other. My eyes scanned the rest of the kitchen, and sure enough, there was no usual ‘litter’ that often drove me to my inner monster. Alhamdulillah!
I quickly walked across the living room to the sunroom, wondering if the love seat’s slipcover was nicely tucked in. If it was, that would be a really nice surprise. I’m just learning the use of slipcovers. From this one, it’s not that easy to maintain, as it keeps coming loose from behind and under the cushions, that we always end up with a messy wrinkly mass on the seat. Unfortunately, the love seat still looked like that. The sunroom was not touched by the cleaning hands of the kids, apparently. Not a disappointment, as the fact that they even cleaned the kitchen and living room was already a nice surprise. I went out to the backyard and checked on my plants, which have been left out there ever since the weather turned warmer.
Before, we have had to bring the pots in every evening, before Maghrib, so the plants would not be destroyed by the extreme cold temperature of the desert. During the day, the temperature was usually hot but it siginifcantly dropped down at night. Now, we are in the 100s, and so the night temperatures are tolerable for the plants, and us.
My red bell pepper doesn’t seem to be fruiting, and neither are some of my other plants. Some of my chilli plants have been fruiting, but I’m just not sure if they are progressing as they should. Vegetable gardening is not my niche, so I’m pretty ignorant about this.
I have this plan, or should I say, dream of filling my house with house plants, and just yesterday, I went with Hamzah to the library, primarily to return his overdue book, but we ended up checking out an armful of books. We hadn’t brought our library bags, so the load of books we had got, attracted one librarian in particular who remarked,
“That’s whole lot of goodies you got there.”
I had swept the shelves of indoor gardening books in much glee, because I have been thinking and planning about this for quite some time now. Just a few days ago, I got 3-4 bagfuls of Better Homes and Garden and Family Fun magazines from Freecycle, and I’m as happy as a lark with my new free collection of past issues of BHG.
Anyway, back to ‘What Happens When Umi Sleeps In’, as I was making my way through the house, which looked pretty clean, the kids were in the girls’ room, apparently vaccumming. I went in and said,
“Mashaallah! The house looks very clean!”
“Yeah, it’s a hotel!”
“Is it going to be a hotel only for one day?” I asked.
S looked at me and in her quiet way, said,
“No, remember yesterday?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“We like to do it when you’re sleeping.”
“Ahh..then I should sleep in everyday!”
“Ummi, we have to do N’s bed today.”
I looked at the long flat rectangular box containing N’s new one leve captain bed frame and nodded. We had bought S one, and we had successfully put it together alhamdulillah. There was only one available at the time at Big Lots though, so for quite some time, N didn’t have a bed frame. We had missed one at Big Lots when they restocked, because I didn’t buy it because I couldn’t transport it home by myself. So when we went to Big lots later on, and they had restocked it again, I told hubby to go get it immediately, before someone else purchases it and we have to wait ages again. So now, both girls have a bed frame, but we have yet to put it together.
“Inshaallah we’ll do it today, but I still have to prepare my notes for today’s class.”
My Taleem class has been taking over my life in a nice way lately, alhamdulillah. Every Wednesday and Thursday, I would be in front of the computer from basically 3:30 – 7:30 p.m. Tuesdays are our Divine Link days, where all of us would drive to El Paso a little before maghrib to attend Sheikh Yaser’s weekly class that he had set up for his community. On Mondays, from now on, a family comes to the house for Quran lessons, with the kids as teachers too. So my days in the week are pretty much filled up, alhamdulillah with beneficial things. Though, it has exhausted me. I have to make sure I have cooked and make sure food is enough from Tuesday through Thursday, because dinner time occurs at 5:30 p.m. during which I am in class. So every Tuesdays, or sometimes Wednesdays I have had to bustle about in the kitchen in the mornings. Monday is also S’s horse ranch day. I find that going out of the house drains me of energy. I don’t know how the working moms do it.
So here I am, finally updating the blog, which has been abandoned for quite sometime. I thought I would document today’s ‘Good Morning Ummi’, as it doesn’t happen very often. I will savor this, and here is my hard evidence for this day’s occurrence. If this goes on, I will no longer have to make a chore chart, or yell and nag the kids to clean up. Will this go on, though?
I don’t know. I would like for it to, but everyone knows that might be a little too much to ask. So, I’m happy with today, alhamdulillah.
Kids, JAZAKUM ALLAH KHAIR! Muahs!
Oh, and to top it off, H offered me,
“Ummi, you want a hot chocolate?”
I feel pampered. Forget Mother’s Day! Alhamdulillah!
THis was what I found Baby Z wiping his nose, next to my bed when I woke up.
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