Saloojee Index 2006

# of additions to our family this year: 1

# of hours labour endured to procure said addition: 4.5

age span between Hafsa and her great-grandmother: 87 years

# of nights this year Hafsa slept through the night: 3

# of strollers acquired this year (borrowed or given): 3

# of strollers in our garage right now: 5

# of children in our household: 2

varieties of bandaids in our household: Dora, Carebears, Hello Kitty, Spongebob, Crayola

# of boo-boo’s requiring bandaids this year: 5 real, hundreds imagined

# of drawings produced by Maymuna on average each week: 3

# of drawings produced by one of Ozayr’s students on average each week: 3

# of students Ozayr taught in 2006: 200

# of new gray hairs on Ozayr’s head: 200 + 2 (children) + 1 (wife)

# of conferences attended by Ozayr in 2006: 4

places Ozayr got to visit without family in tow: Utah, Alabama, Winnipeg, Lancaster

places Jen got to visit without family in tow: grocery store, post office, Starbucks

# of visits from family and friends to Minneapolis this year: 12

# of times we visited Ottawa: 4

most valuable player 2006: neurosurgeon, Dr. Michael Partington

# of hits on Hafsa’s caringbridge website: 865

Hafsa’s current crawling speed: 2 miles an hour

Maymuna’s favourite phrase: “Mommy, are you frustrated?”

Hafsa’s favourite phrase: “BAP!”

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Busy Bees

When you are 31 years old it's not many friendships that you can say have spanned over 20 years, but I am lucky enough to have FOUR. I think Elli and Sherry were in my kindergarten class. I met Kathleen in grade 2 and Carolyn in grade 6. We all grew up within a ten minute walk of each other. Four of us attended the same elementary school, we all went to the same middle and high schools, and four of us also attended the same university. Our lives' paths sometimes cross and other times drift a bit (like all the way to New Zealand, right Carolyn?) but it never changes that these are the people who know me best. I never have to explain myself to them and all the inside jokes I have with myself, they understand them. They have rallied around me in hard times and were the first to be happy for me when I had something to celebrate. Each one of them has taught me something in my life.

We affectionately call ourselves the Yaya's, from the novel, The Divine Secrets of the YaYa Sisterhood. Several years ago now, we agreed to try to spend one weekend together every year. This summer didn't work out for our regular gig, but we are having YaYa festivities today and tomorrow, which began this morning with a gathering of all the YaYa's and their respective hubbies, boyfriends, children etc.

We've shared alot of heartbreak, laughter and some pretty crazy fads... here are some of the worst storms we've weathered:

NKOTB (that's New Kids on the Block for those in the know)
Perms and teased bangs
Days of Dreams High School Musical (singing singing and more singing)
Early morning band practice carpool
Early morning band practice ritual of flubbing half the notes
Addiction to soap operas
Addiction to using soap acronyms GH, Y&R, B&B etc.
Obsessions with 80's teen idols like Kirk Cameron, Johnny Depp...
Obsessions with big hair 80's rock bands like Bon Jovi, Aerosmith...
Obsessions with the tear-out posters of teen idols and big hair rock bands from teen magazines like BOP!
Electric Youth perfume by Debbie Gibson that left splotches on your neck

Ah, good times, good times... Well here are some pics of us today, happy thirty-somethings... Here's a little teaser - one of the women in this photograph is pregnant - can you guess which one?

From left to right that's Carolyn, Elli, Kathleen, me and Sherry.



Here's a picture of Hafsa bonding with Sherry's daughter Leela. They were born only 4 days apart!





We've spent much of the first week of our trip socializing and catching up with everyone and I think now the lounging & relaxation portion of our holiday should begin!! Maymuna is looking forward to getting outside a little more now that the snow has finally arrived here in Ottawa. Here she is in her snow pants this afternoon before she went out to the park with my parents.



A bientot!

Happy Birthday to me

Today it's my birthday and I'm thirty-one. I don't have a problem at all really saying that. Thirty-one. I never had a problem turning twenty, or twenty-five or twenty-nine or thirty. I don't intend to lie about my age or overcompensate by making a really huge deal about it. I've never been bothered by the growing old thing. I don't know why. I kind of like being thirty actually. People talk about how great it is to be thirty, even forty, and fifty (isn't fifty the "new forty" or something?) because you are so much more confident and you know yourself so much better... and I agree, I wouldn't go back to being 16 again for anything... and I guess I like the idea of that maturity, even if a few extra pounds and wrinkles come along in the deal.

Today was probably a bigger deal for Maymuna than it was for me - she wore her party outfit the whole day and she got ice cream after dinner. Two pretty big scores for a 3 year old. We took it easy this morning and then ran around doing some errands this afternoon before heading back to my parents' house for a dinner of Chinese take-out and aforementioned ice cream. The girls took turns riding on "Dobbin", the rocking horse. This horse was mine as a child and I remember spending ages riding on him. Now Maymuna loves him and my parents pull it out from the basement whenever we visit and let him live in the dining room for a few weeks. Hafsa goes too now and squeals with delight. Here are some pictures... a few from tonight and one from almost 30 years ago... (ouch, now that does smart a little...)

What I learnt in my travels

Well, here we are.

Happy scenes surround us this morning, 4 generations of our family intermingling and getting reacquainted... Maymuna in particular is in her element -- it's a place that's familiar to her, with family she adores, and toys she hasn't seen in months (which means they are good as new!)

We are pretty tired today and so we're mainly just taking it easy... It was a long day yesterday and an even longer night (I've given up on the idea that nights are supposed to be restful! What's that all about??) But things went pretty smoothly yesterday during our travels - the kids were pretty good, Hafsa even napped on the plane, and (wonders never cease) I managed to get a Chai Latte in the airport in Chicago and Ozayr didn't get "randomly selected" for any intrusive search procedures. Woo-hoo! It doesn't get any better than that for the 'Loojees.

There was a family on the plane yesterday, who inadvertently taught me a lesson in parenting... This couple had with them two sons, one who appeared to be 8 or 9 years old and another who was much younger, perhaps 2. The younger son was quite boisterous and the parents were almost constantly busy with him, entertaining him, feeding him etc. The older child didn't say much at all, but occasionally would do something out of the blue, like stand on his seat, or yell out. His parents would turn and scold him and then turn back to their little son. I couldn't help but feel like the boy was lonely, but the only way for him to get noticed was to act out or disobey his parents, because when he was acting well-behaved he got completely ignored.

Maymuna was sitting so quietly next to me reading a book by herself, and I realized that I had been completely focused on Hafsa (being a bit more high-maintenance at this point in her life) and because Maymuna didn't seem to need our attention, we weren't giving her any at all. In fact, for fear of disturbing or interrupting her good behaviour, I hadn't even told her how good she was being.

I had heard people say this before but it really made me realize anew that we need to CATCH OUR KIDS BEING GOOD - otherwise we are rewarding them (with our attention) for misbehaving instead. And how sad it is to see a good child be completely ignored.

When the plane stopped the older son just wandered off with us into the terminal, his parents were yards behind, still fussing over the stroller and hand luggage and coats... and other "more important" things... What will this kid do when he's 16 years old for attention???

A Picture Post!

Due to a distinct lack of anything witty to say, I am making today's post a pictorial one... AND a picture is worth a thousand words, so I'm off the hook! Ha ha!

We got a smattering of snow the week before last and here are the girls in their warm clothes, and Maymuna helping out with the driveway:


It has since warmed up and we even went for a long walk yesterday afternoon and played a bit with the ball in the backyard. Maymuna has an interesting way of playing - I throw the ball to her and she (sometimes) catches it, and then she can throw the ball anywhere in the backyard and I have to run and get it. Fun times. I guess she knows I need the exercise.

Here is Hafsa playing with Maymuna's doodle pad thingy. She almost always just chews on the pen, but this time I caught her TRYING TO WRITE WITH IT. I don't think I'm imagining it, see for yourself...


Of course if Hafsa is an expressing herself creatively, she will fit in just fine... Here is a picture of Maymuna's artwork taking over the house...



Today we went over to our friend's house for our last playdate before the holidays, and Maymuna got to bake some cookies with her friend Julie. The biggest miracle of it all is that they are actually edible for everyone, seeing as our children's combined list of allergies includes dairy, soy, eggs, wheat and chic peas (which eliminates c/p flour). But no one is allergic to sugar so a good time was had by all...


Here are the two girls in a rare moment of quiet... Are they contemplating the passing seasons? Are they wondering what the new year will bring for two little 3-year olds in middle America? Are they discussing the meaning of life? Who knows what passes through those noggins of theirs, but their little aproned bums sure are cute.


Saying goodbye to the Kang family this afternoon I realized that it's probably the first time I will miss something about Minneapolis while we're in Ottawa. Their friendship has been one of the great blessings to our family in 2006.

Hajj 101

It's been pretty slow on the blog the last week or so, mainly due to Ozayr being away Wednesday to Saturday of last week. He's back now and while he probably has a lot to share about Winnipeg and the University of Manitoba, I have no new blog subjects, but one I've been pondering for a while...

It's Hajj season again and though most of you have probably heard me mention it, I thought I would provide a little "Islam 101" here for those of you who might be interested to know more about an incredibly meaningful tradition in the life of every (inshallah) Muslim... I was pretty stunned that despite the magnitude of it all, the general mainstream population knows almost nothing about it. However, we'll start with the basics...

Mecca is in Saudi Arabia, and is the sacred center of Islam. When you see all the Mozzie's praying (like on CNN, lol) they are facing Mecca, specifically the Ka'ba.

This is the Ka'ba, the black cube in the center of aaaaalll those people:


According to the Koran, the Ka'ba is the house of God rebuilt by Abraham and his son Ismail. To describe its significance, historically and spiritually, is more than this little blog can take, but in a super-short version (*deep breath*), in the time of Muhammad, he faced mounting opposition in the city of Mecca. He was persecuted and harassed continuously, and he and his followers eventually migrated to Medina in 622 CE. After this pivotal migration, or Hijra, the Muslim community became a political and military force. In 630 CE, Muhammad and his followers returned to Mecca as conquerors and the Kaaba was re-dedicated as an Islamic house of worship.

Hajj (pronounced like the "Ha" in have, and a strong "J" like Jen, sort of rhymes like "badge") is a ritual that reflects that return to the Ka'ba, and is incumbent once in the lifetime of every Muslim who is able to perform the rite. Many of the rituals performed during Hajj go back to the time of Abraham - there is a sense of history, of going along the same path as the prophets of God and all those who have followed them.

All this sounds so physical, but the journey of Hajj is mostly a spiritual one, one of self-renewal and devotion. For Muslims it's the greatest spiritual experience of their lives, a complete removal from one's involvement in the everyday world and day-to-day activities. While now you can take a plane or train from just about anywhere in the world and be there in a few hours, this is a tradition that Muslims have fulfilled for thirteen hundred years. There were times when Muslims made the trip on foot, or by horseback. It was a difficult journey that perhaps might last months (not just your two weeks vacation).

Today, something like 2 million Muslims travel to Mecca every year to perform their Hajj. And they come from just about every country in the world - they are rich and poor, pale and dark, old and young. And among those millions of pilgrims, their status is all the same in the face of the transcendent and they mix freely like nowhere else on earth.

I love this description from Malcolm X's autobiography which I will transcribe below.

There were tens of thousands of pilgrims, from all over the world. They were of all colors, from blue-eyed blonds to black-skinned Africans. But we were all participating in the same ritual, displaying a spirit of unity and brotherhood that my experiences in America had led me to believe never could exist between the white and non-white.

You may be shocked by these words coming from me. But on this pilgrimage, what I have seen, and experienced, has forced me to re-arrange much of my thought patterns previously held, and to toss aside some of my previous conclusions. This was not too difficult for me. Despite my firm convictions, I have been always a man who tries to face facts, and to accept the reality of life as new experience and new knowledge unfolds it. I have always kept an open mind, which is necessary to the flexibility that must go hand in hand with every form of intelligent search for truth.

During the past eleven days here in the Muslim world, I have eaten from the same plate, drunk from the same glass and slept in the same bed (or on the same rug) - while praying to the same God with fellow Muslims, whose eyes were the bluest of the blue, whose hair was the blondest of blond, and whose skin was the whitest of white. And in the words and in the actions and in the deeds of the 'white' Muslims, I felt the same sincerity that I felt among the black African Muslims of Nigeria, Sudan and Ghana.

We were truly all the same.

Respite

There comes a sad, sad point in the life of every parent: when your child decides to give up their daytime nap.

Parents know you can't underestimate the power of an hour to oneself during the day - whether it's to nap (because you didn't sleep last night), or check your email, or prepare tonight's meal - it is a sanity saver. In my experience that time-out really refreshes everyone so the rest of the day runs smoothly... or more smooth, at least.

That fateful day occurred for us with Maymuna shortly after Hafsa was born (surprise, surprise). It was a battle that I had to throw in order for our mother-daughter relationship to survive - our afternoons were really scarred by our (power) struggle. Was an hour of free time really worth at least an hour of fighting beforehand, while poor Hafsa waited it out in her crib? I never really got the hang of getting both kids to nap simultaneously, so I was almost always looking after one child anyway. So we sacrificed the nap and rejoiced in the fact that both girls now go to bed at 8 o'clock and we have a bit more time to ourselves in the evening.

But what about the daytime? By 3 o'clock I need a rest, a drink of water (or the lunch I never ate), and a bathroom break. The last few weeks several talks with other moms I know touched on this common problem. I heard lots of suggestions... One mother I know would let her child play in a contained, safe place while she napped while pregnant with her second child. Another told me that she takes all her kids into bed with her at 2 every afternoon and they stay there until she gets some shut-eye. And finally an older mom at the preschool told me that she wished she had carved out some more time for herself when her kids were young, looking back she realized that she could've been a better mom if she hadn't been pushing herself beyond her limits. All these things got me to thinking... Maymuna is pretty responsible these days, and Hafsa could use some practice playing on her own for a little while. I could use said bathroom break, and we could ALL use a bit of down time to chill out for 20 minutes or half an hour...

And so Quiet Time was born in the Saloojee household.

I'll be honest, Maymuna cried the first time I told her about the idea. But I kept talking about it and convinced her that she didn't have to sleep, she could PLAY! HONEST!! In fact, she would have Quiet Time in her very own room with all her toys! I got out the baby gate and put it across her room with access to the bathroom (to "keep Hafsa out"), filled Hafsa's crib with toys and plunked her in there, and BOLTED to my room. The first day I wanted them to have a success, so I set the timer for 15 minutes, but today, as I write this, we are timed for 30 minutes, and I can hear both children playing and bustling about on their own... I am loving this quick snatch of solitude to recharge, I think this is a tradition we are going to keep :)

Three kids and a tangent

Today we welcomed a new addition to our little family - a temporary addition, but I'd keep her in a heartbeat... We babysat our little friend Sophie. Here she is:


Sophie's mom, Shelly, and I have begun a babysitting rotation with our little ones so that we can have more time one-on-one with our older girls. Julie and Sophie are almost the exact same age as Maymuna and Hafsa, and we're all pretty comfortable with each other. Hafsa had no problems hanging out at their place 2 weeks ago (and gumming all their toys, chair legs and doorstops no doubt) and Sophie too has been to my house enough times that I think she was pretty comfortable right away. Here is a picture of Maymuna officiating over the playdate. What cracks me up is that both babies are holding a ball, but both babies are looking at the other's ball... "I want that one!" written all over their faces.


I was struck with the responsibility, once Shelly and Julie left the house, of taking care of another person's child. I was a big babysitter around Lakeview when I was 12 or 13, but really haven't looked after many children since, and this might be the first time since I became a mother myself. I was also curious to see what it's like to have three kids in the house... consider it research or whatever... and I guess Shelly and I both agreed that it's not too bad, as long as you don't need to do anything else... like cook... or clean... or go to the bathroom. We both felt really focused, like when normally you might try to sneak away to check your email or something, you really have no choice but to stay and lead another sing-along instead. The option of a "time-out" not being available, I felt all the more in the moment with the kids. So how do the moms of three get by, with all the cooking and cleaning too? I don't know. I am waiting for an email from someone who knows the secret. I know such a person must be out there somewhere. Email me.

(Before anyone gets excited or freaked out I would like to publicly say that I am not committing to having any more children. I am not committed to not having more either. The jury is out. I'm waiting for said email, see?)

Then Shelly and Julie came back and we all had lunch together and a little playdating for the older girls. Here they are cozied up together on the couch...


The blanket they are snuggling under is the comforter we got at the hospital when Hafsa was there for her surgery. It's hard for me to explain what it means to me. This comforter was in the pre-surgery crib to which Hafsa was designated, and it followed us to the surgery, and back up to her room, until I just asked someone outright, "is this ours?" I couldn't quite figure out why it kept coming with us everywhere we went. Someone explained to me that it was made by a volunteer as a part of a group associated with the hospital who make hand-made items for the children admitted for surgeries and therapies there. It touched me for some reason that someone out there was thinking of us. That someone cared to make the effort to provide even the smallest comfort to us. Some warmth. By the time we left the hospital three days later I truly treasured this blanket.

Sometimes I would be tempted to say that I wish I could forget that little chapter... but I know that's not true. I cherish this little blanket and keep it out to play with in our everyday lives because I don't want to forget all the lessons I learned... all the good and generosity we got to see in each other and our family and friends, and even someone we didn't even know. We give dollars blindly to charities all the time, and I'm not saying we shouldn't, but if you get the chance to give something from your very own hands, something you've invested some time in, please do it. Your gift is infinitely more than just sewing cloth or knitting stitches, take it from someone who knows.