still here on Saturday night

I thought I should blog tonight - it's been a few days since my last rambling, crazy post and I thought there might be people out there who think I've gone off the deep end or something. No, no, everything's fine. The girls woke up the next morning, rosy cheeked and sleepy-eyed and won my heart all over again. It happens this way almost every day, my love for them increases.

So Ozayr has gone back home for the wedding of two friends of ours, J + E. I bet he is there right now actually, looking handsome in his new suit. I wonder if he is a little at a loss there without me - his public events secretary. It's my job to give him the executive summary on details that he can't remember, or that I forgot to tell him ("remember so-and-so was in a car accident, so don't ask about the new wheels.... oh, that's so-and-so, whats-his-names new girlfriend, she works in marketing...") But then again, I am probably overestimating my worth. I think that he is probably having a great time. Though I can almost guarantee that when the dancing and drinking kick in, he'll be slyly looking for the door. No offense to J + E, of course I think they know this about him too. Trust me, no one will watch my husband doing the Chicken Dance tonight. Not his thing.

In other news, as Ozayr departed, two other souls arrived: my parents. Here they sit with me, reading, as they do in the evenings. They are yawning even though it's barely 9 p.m. Their life on a cruise ship the last two weeks has been enjoyable, though at times rocky, and I think they are happy to be sitting here, mauled by children... While they still have plenty of energy I will try to relax and take some time off. Seriously considering taking my husband to a movie this week. I hear that there are... movies... showing. That's all I know. Have received one recommendation for something about The Wild, with Sean Penn. Do not know the movie title off the top of my head. It's a consideration... Can't you see how badly I need to get out and have some fun?

I have a feeling I'll be in bed before 10 tonight.

End of a LONG day

Tonight I logged on to my own blog to look at cute videos of my kids.

Because there is very little cuteness going on around here.

We started bedtime an hour ago and Maymuna is still awake. She is calling to me as I type this, requesting certain flavours for her birthday cake or something like that. Not 20 minutes ago Hafsa was screaming directly in my face as I tried to settle her down with her monkey and blanket. I seem to have grown in popularity lately and BOTH girls wanted me to put them to bed tonight - but separately. Don't get me wrong. I'm flattered. I love my children. I love that they love me. It's an amazing thing that we can spend the last 12 hours together and they can't stand to be separated for the last 20 minutes. I know that these are the best years of my life.

Just like I know (to quote a friend of mine) that giving birth was a miraculous experience, but in the moment all I could feel was the pain.

I am feeling the figurative pain tonight. Tired and exhausted we are all, I am really very desperate to leave this long and busy day behind us. I think a particularly crazy day leaves them wired and overtired, so they can't actually relax. Meanwhile it leaves me drained and sleepy. It wasn't a bad day. Just a long one... that needed to end, like, an hour ago.

I want to see their angelic sleeping faces... have a moment watching them that restores my faith in Everything Good (and the promise of an equally joyous and exhausting day tomorrow)... and go to BED.

Sweet dreams... :)

I'm back

The seasons have officially changed since the last time I blogged. I was blogging everyday for a while there. Then I thought that every second day would be more reasonable. Then we were so busy getting back into our schedule that last week I didn't have a chance to blog, or return emails at all. I am hoping this week is a bit easier...

It's not even 6 p.m. and it's dark outside. We've had a rash of thunderstorms lately and it looks like there's another on the way. Last Thursday we heard the tornado warning sirens. If we had been at home we would have gone directly to the basement, but we were on the highway driving back from the university. We knew there was something up though, as we spotted a single cloud that was just spinning, ever so slowly... Luckily no major damage was done to our area, unless you count the branch that fell from our tree. We seem to have terrible luck with these trees... it's the 3rd big branch to fall from this particular tree. And the sapling we had out the front just keeled over and died one day. I'm wondering if perhaps we don't water our lawn enough and the trees are drying up and getting brittle. Anyway, all this rain will take care of that. We'll peak out there later to see what's happened.

The girls have been doing just fine, enjoying the occasional day of warm summer-like weather. Here's a little video for you of Hafsa trying to catch the last dregs of water from the hose...



By the way, bloggers out there using Blogger - the new 'upload video' function, it's pretty LAME. This is taking FOREVER. I hope the quality will be good enough for you to see the water coming out of the hose...

Maybe this video is better with a lower resolution...

School days

Today preschool started up again. Finally! Maymuna has been asking about school and her schoolmates since we returned to Minn in JULY. Last night she slept with her trusty Thomas the Tank backpack by her side. This is the same girl who wept giant crocodile tears a year ago!! What a change. Of course there were still plenty more crocodile tears to go around today, as Hafsa joined us at the community center and had her first experience sans maman, in a preschool/daycare setting. I don't want to divulge any specifics about their school on the internet, but let's just say I'm glad that we're taking it slow and Hafsa has plenty of time to get accustomed to everything. And I'm right down the hall, exactly ONE room away. And that's the room that Maymuna's in. (see, it's like letting go, but not really...)

Maymuna had fun and LOVED seeing all her friends again. The children and moms from last year enjoyed each other so much last year we agreed to sign all our kids up for the next level up this year, so just about every face is a familiar face, which I'm sure puts Maymuna even more at ease. She packed her own backpack, which she proudly wore in and out of the school... Contents include: 3 Berenstain Bears books, 5 sheets of blank white paper, 1 Curious George pencil, 1 stuffed panda bear (thank you Grandad) and 1 packet of saltine crackers. The paper and pencil together constitute what she calls her "homework".


We packed Hafsa a small backpack too. Contents: 2 diapers, 1 packet of wipes and 1 small stuffed cat named "Meow", courtesy of Grandad once again (there was a stuffed animal frenzy this summer, I'm telling you).


Maymuna is beaming in just about every photo. Hafsa looks anxious but she's not really. That's because at this point she still had NO CONCEPT of what was about to happen. She was actually ecstatic because she got to wear a backpack just like her big sister. She looks nervous because she is chewing on the index finger of BOTH hands here. She's teething in a big way...


So off we went and we all survived (thank God). I must admit to being totally and completely drained, but I think I still haven't recovered from the weekend and the sleepless night we had yesterday due to those darn teeth. I'm really proud of both my girls though. They are growing up (despite my orders) and while it's tempting to be sad, I can't help but cheer for them every brave new step they take...

Partied Out

There are no words to express my exhaustion. But here are some to give you an idea.

3 birthday cakes
2 parties
1 birthday girl
2 birthday boys
10 pins
1 nature hike with guide
20 rowdy 5 year olds
1 peeing turtle
rental shoes
1 pink bowling ball
several live snakes
1 leaf rubbing
some chocolate
some vanilla
some strawberries
2 loot bags
TODAY




Goodnight...

Ravenous while reading

We are big readers in our family. Ozayr has a book in hand at just about every moment. When we pick him up from work he is often sitting outside under a tree, reading. Sometimes he doesn't even notice us pull up. I find it difficult to divert my attention from the kids for very long, but magazines tend to follow me around the house, on the kitchen counter or living room couch so that I can flip through them when time permits.

When Maymuna was a baby we would put her on the ground amid our newspaper sections and magazines and eat breakfast on the floor next to her, reading all the while. So it's no surprise that the children are quickly following suit. So much so in fact, that we had to institute a Reading Rule. Reading is game during breakfast and lunch, but no one reads over dinner - that's talking time. Here are the girls at breakfast the other day:



It's probably a bad habit to read and eat at the same time, but it's not like eating while watching TV, right? I feel like I would be denying their true 'Loojee nature if I were to forbid it. It's practically an official family custom at Ozayr's parents house to devour the newspaper along with breakfast every morning. Reading and eating, it has a nice, munchy sort of quiet to it. I love our mornings...

Ramadan Kareem!!

It's that time of year again: Ramadan is here! We went out earlier to the local Middle Eastern food shop to stock up on some Ramadan staples... And let me tell you, it was insane there! At one point I was stuck trying to get through a particularly dense area and Maymuna started pushing on my behind, shouting, "I'll get you through Mama!" But this is not a complaint. It felt GREAT to see so many people, all picking up their special things... There was such a great atmosphere!

We got some dates (naturally), pita bread, hummus, frozen roti and chutney (FORGIVE ME, MA!), supplies for Ramadan milk and some other treats, like halal marshmallows with HAMZA! The Muslim Boy! on them...

Plus I found the chicken stock cubes that I like. They aren't just chicken. There is no label on them that I can read (it's mostly Arabic) but there are some spices in there that I can't replicate on my own with regular chicken broth from the store. Something about this broth makes my creamy broccoli soup simply divine. I've been rationing them. :)


Ozayr swears these are the best dates he's eaten in North America:


I found this in with the hummus and tabouli:


We'll see if this is any good or not, but seeing as we are severely lacking in shawarma here, this garlic sauce just might be able to console our taste buds until our next trip to the Palace on Rideau St.

Just saying that reminds me of iftar time (when one breaks fast) at any Lebanese restaurant in Ottawa: PACKED. The feeling is just like the one at the store this afternoon... crowded, garlicy, very jovial and festive (with a slight tinge of hungry desperation which we try to suppress). It's hard to understand that Muslims really do look forward to Ramadan. It's not a 'punishment'. And not something we carry out grudgingly. It's a special time with lots of ritual and traditions. Very uplifting actually. It didn't come immediately to me, this feeling, that feeling you get when a holiday comes around... but now it does, alhamdulillah. My heart feels light and happy. Ramadan Mubarak to all the Muslims reading. May you have a very very blessed Ramadan with your families inshallah. Love to you all xo.

I'm okay. Really.

So it happened today. I have suspected this moment would come, ever since Maymuna was born. She's Daddy Little Girl, but today she fully articulated it... We were arguing over whether or not she should wear a sweater to the park this morning and out it flew of her little mouth.

"I don't want you, I want Baba. He is BETTER than YOU. He is nice to me. You are NOT."

Low blow! Doesn't she know that she's broken the cardinal rule of families: never choose a favourite? and under no circumstances ADMIT it!! No, she's three. No rules apply, we speak directly in the moment and from our heart. I thought I would be heartbroken when she said it, but I wasn't. I just smiled. Ozayr is a wonderful father and I honestly do take as much joy in that as my children do. The last time Maymuna didn't want to wear a sweater he pulled out every single one from her drawers and closet to help her choose one that she would agree to wear.

So we went out to the park (sans sweater) and I asked her casually as we strolled down the sidewalk, "so you really like Baba more than you like me?" She didn't even look up, it was as if I'd asked her if she likes rainbows.

"Yeah," she said, unapologetically.

"Okay," I said.

Mall Talk

This post is dedicated to the woman that my family and I met at the mall this weekend. Friendly enough, she approached us with "your children are gorgeous!" (the bait) and 60 seconds later was asking "why are so many Islamics across the world so angry?" (reel 'em in!)

Well, that is not a question I'm willing to get into here. I'm not even sure I could answer it comprehensively if I tried. And honestly, I almost always hate talking about politics, unless I know everyone in the room is going to agree with me, lol. Neither do I wish to acknowledge the personal questions she lobbed at us, like why I wasn't wearing a hijab. But what I can address is something that did - for me - hinder our attempt at a respectful discourse: terms, what they mean and how they are pronounced.

If you are interested, let me start with a little 101.

Religion name: Islam

People who follow the religion of Islam are called: Muslims. Can be used as either a noun ("he is a Muslim") or as an adjective ("he is Muslim").

The word "Islamic" may be used as an adjective, to describe elements of Islam. Like the phrase "Islamic guidelines" used below. When referring to a person, please use "Muslim".

Food prepared in accordance to Islamic guidelines: halaal. (our equivalent to kosher)

Islamic place of worship: mosque.

Holy Book of Islam: the Koran, sometimes spelled Qur'an.

Language of the Quran: written in Arabic.

Arabic refers to the language.
Arab refers to a person or state.
(but not all Arabs are Muslim. not all Muslims are Arab.)

Still with me? :)

Next onto pronunciation.

Let's start with an easy example first. Two english words. You are going to have to say it out loud to really hear the difference. So close your office door or whatever. ;)

His / Hiss

You hear the difference obviously - the first "s" is more of a "z" sound, slow and lazzzy. The second double "s" is sharper, hiss-like. Keep those in mind as you follow along with these words as I've written them phonetically:

Islam:
most often pronounced: Izz-lam
more properly pronounced: Iss-lam

Muslim:
most often pronounced: Muzz-lim
more properly pronounced: Muss-lim

You know, it's not that these things really make a huge difference in the grand scheme of things; nothing in this world is going to be made or broken because of inadvertent mispronunciation, I know that. Believe me when I say I'm not offended by things like this in the least, under usual circumstances. Her mistakes bothered me because I felt like our new friend was acting as if she knew me. But she doesn't. Every person is more complex than the labels we use: Muslim, Christian, Republican, Democrat. Aren't you a little conservative about some issues, and a little liberal about others? Is every Christian the same? Is every Muslim? Aren't we all a little more than what we appear to be in a mall?

I was pretty speechless though, as I tend to be when caught off guard, so I didn't say any of those things. Ozayr handled all her questions with an amazing amount of grace, I thought. And he was so patient, standing there holding our dinner tray, trying to make it look natural to be carrying it while discussing religion and politics, while 2 grubby children circled in and around his legs. It was the girls that eventually broke us free from our talk, and I heard her say as we walked away, "the next time we run into each other we can sit down and talk RELIGION!"

Day of Rest

Before I had kids you would never have caught me sitting alone in a coffee shop. While I've always been someone who enjoys time alone, even as a child, I really didn't have the confidence to be alone in public - would people think I didn't have any friends? Or that I'd been stood up? Now it's an entirely different story. Every Sunday morning I head out to the local coffee shop for 2 or 3 hours with my books, magazines, paper and a good pen, all by myself.

This is my one (and only) time each week to be completely alone and do whatever I want. Sometimes I put down my pen and just think for a few minutes - meandering, contemplative thoughts that drift as long as I let them - because they aren't interrupted. It's a fact of my life currently that in the house my own agenda will always be intruded upon. This isn't a terrible thing, Maymuna and Hafsa's needs have to come first in most cases - can you imagine me saying "just wait another minute baby, I'm thinking about something right now." My children might be stunned into silence for 2 seconds and then the whining/fighting/tickling/careening would resume. I can remain pretty accepting of this fact, as long as my "me" time comes around Sunday morning. In our toddler lingo, I think of it as simply "waiting my turn" for my own attention!

It's my #1 weapon against resentment, to tell you the truth. Throughout the week at those times when I really want to take a break and read my book or flip leisurely through a magazine but I can't, I just think to myself "hey, no big deal. I'll bring this along with me on Sunday instead." Without that delayed-gratification coping mechanism I tend to carry on effectively for a while (a month?) until all of the sudden I reach a boiling point where I am severely distressed, imagining that I will never get any time to myself ever again (!!!). By that point I'm so tired and strung out that it is entirely too late to go out and try to re-energize myself. So I prefer the preventative tact. Stephen Covey would say it's a deposit in my emotional bank account so that my balance stays even through a week that may bring a few withdrawals.

So happy Sunday morning.

Cha-ching. :)

Thank goodness it's the weekend.

It's been an exhausting week - the first week of school, Ozayr's first (and hopefully last) kidney stone, and Hafsa's first molars are coming through. To unwind a bit we went out to the Como Zoo last night for some fun. We picked the right time because it was just before close (by about an hour and a half, which is plenty of time to see the whole zoo) and there weren't many people around. My parents once visited a zoo in Australia before opening hours and said that the animals were so sociable and engaging; once the crowds arrived they really changed their behaviour. I think we got a glimpse of that last night because the animals were in fine form, like we've never seen them before: tigers running, monkeys swinging, bobcats leaping, and more than one animal couple gettin' frisky, if you know what I mean... Even the anti-social zebra who is always standing with his butt to the crowd was roaming around enjoying the gorgeous evening. The polar bear put on a special show just for us and I snapped it to share with all of you... Enjoy!

All about EARS

Here is a classic example of being caught between 2 cultural norms. I didn't get my ears pierced until I was... 9, maybe 10 years old. In my family, to have pierced ears is a very grown up thing. In lots of other cultures, African, Indian, Middle-Eastern (and I would guess Romanian, lol) getting your daughter's ears pierced when she is a baby is the accepted thing to do.

When Maymuna was a baby I was asked a lot if I was going to pierce her ears. It was an ongoing debate for me - to which social practice would I adhere? I feel it's my duty as Maymuna's mother to make certain decisions about her body for medical reasons, but I just don't feel it's right for me to make a permanent change in her physique based on what I believe is pretty or attractive. I really don't feel that it's my right - it's her body. That's not to say that I believe it's wrong, perse. But I am not comfortable with it.

That said, I have always upheld that when she wanted to get it done, and was old enough to understand the consequences (pain!) and that it was permanent, she could get it done and I would take her. There was no cut-off age for me as long as she understood. Well. You can see where this is going.

Maymuna and I have been discussing ear piercing for the last few weeks, it comes up occasionally and I've explained it and asked her to think about it some more. This past weekend she decided that she definitely wanted to get it done: TODAY. We looked at pictures of another girl getting it done (crying and all) and she still wanted to do it. She asked Ozayr if we could drop him off at work so we could have the car to go and do it. So off we went this morning... here are the pictures to show our adventure!

This is Maymuna picking out her earrings. She chose a sparkly, pink flower. (she is almost 4 afterall, in my mind there was no other choice than the sparkly, pink flower)


Here we are waiting , hugging the Claire Bear for comfort...


Drawing our dots...


And here is the AFTER shot:


Yes, she shed a few tears. Luckily I had brought an allergen-free lollipop along and she perked up pretty fast.

The earring itself is made up of 5 little pink stones and one white one in the center. It's hard to get a good picture because the light reflects off them so brightly. Here's the best I've come up with:


This is happy little Maymuna checking herself out in the store window next door...

What a big girl... I am already wishing I'd kissed those earlobes a few more (hundred) times before it was too late!

Weaning: a long hard road

Hafsa is just about officially 18 months old and I am feeling like I am ready to start the gradual process of weaning her. Traveling and breastfeeding was very difficult the last time, as she is very insistent when she wants to nurse. Like, on a city bus, say? Or, while they are serving dinner on the plane? Or if she sees me, say, sitting on the couch? It's the one thing that will bring out the tantrum in her, and I'd rather not be dealing with this in December on our next family journey to Ottawa. So I'm giving myself... 3.5 months to work this out. And I'm realizing that I should have started 2 months AGO.

Just to clarify, I know that most babies are down to 2 or 3 nursings at this age, like at bedtime or at nap. But strangely, Hafsa's needs have never really decreased. I remember a friend asking me when she was about a year old, how many times she nursed in a day, 3 or 4? "Before LUNCH!" was my reply.

Perhaps it's because she is so active (moving every moment). She eats solids, I guess to supplement the fact that she needs enough calories to sustain her, but never let go of many nursing sessions. It took us until she was almost a year old to stop night feedings. Now I would say she nurses 6 to 7 times in a 24 hour period (real, ten-minute, both-sides nursing sessions).

Today was my first shot at it. After her nap she's making signs for milk (actually she learned the word "milk" so it's pretty obvious, that and the pointing) and I suggest a cup of milk, in an extremely cheerful voice and hurry to the kitchen. Two minutes later I'm standing there with a sippy cup of milk and the child is writhing around on the ground like she's in pain. She's not crying so much as complaining loudly and every time she lifts her head and sees the cup she throws her hands over her eyes again and thrashes about some more. "Nooooo...! Nooooo...!"

I decide the best tactic is to keep busy and we head out for a walk with Maymuna. Up the street, down the street, we see squirrels, try to climb trees, etc. When we get home I suggest a video for the girls while I fix some dinner, presuming that we've moved on... Hafsa turns to me, "NO. MEK!!" Yikes!

This weaning thing is going to take a while... (but don't worry comrades, she's with sippy as we speak ;)

Road Rage

Can we go over a few basic road rules of interstate highway driving here?

The left-hand lane is the PASSING lane. The right-hand lane is for driving until you need to pass. So let's say I'm driving along (right lane!) and approach a cute little Ford going about 110 kms/hr (don't ask me about how many miles, I don't know! I am still after 2 years, winging the km vs. miles thing). Anyway, my speed is a little faster, about 115 kms, so I'll go around you Mr. Ford. Check mirrors, signal, shoulder check, enter left-hand lane and pass. There is no real need to speed up drastically, this is a 2 lane highway, and because I am going faster than him, I will naturally overtake him. So WHY I ASK YOU, does there always have to be a GIANT pick-up truck or SUV that comes hurtling down the highway at 130 kms coming right UP MY BUTT??!! Buddy, I am PASSING another car, and it'll only take a second! I'm sorry that you appeared here out of nowhere, but you are driving extremely fast. GET OFF MY TAIL!! This is the same driver who, when a line of cars is passing a slower vehicle like an RV or tractor, will weave in and out of the passing lane, trying to get further ahead of everybody else who are effectively and respectably waiting their turn to get past. I am irritated by you!!

Then there is the driver who insists on driving in the left-hand lane ALL THE TIME because he or she considers himself (let's be honest it's almost always a GUY) a speedy gonzales and, hey, will need to pass someone eventually right? NO, YOU ARE BLOCKING THE PASSING LANE FOR EVERYONE ELSE BETWEEN HERE AND YOUR DESTINATION. Pass and move to the right! Heaven forbid that you should be passed yourself, right? You must be the fastest and coolest speedster on the road! I'm sure!! I am irritated by you!

Can you tell that I spent ALL DAY in the car today? With two kids? (thank goodness for the husband with infinite patience but anyway)

We're home. Safe and sound. Just grumpy.

Rockin' ISNA 2007

I am blogging to you tonight from Chicago!! How exciting! A friend of mine just called me a jet setter and I had to laugh. Yes, we are jet setters... the kind that travel very slowly and get very little accomplished. Not that I had high hopes, to tell you the truth. Yes, it's the Islamic Society of North America's annual conference and there are hundreds, if not thousands, of people here. The last time I was here I crammed in lectures and information sessions from dawn until dusk everyday and spent every other spare minute in the bazaar shopping (oh, sooooo good shopping I must say). This time... well, it's a different story. With two children, life has a new pace, let's say.

Our plan to visit ISNA this year had mainly to do with the fact that Ozayr's mom and brother are here and that Chicago is close to Minneapolis. Relative to the 22 hour drive to Ottawa, that is. So we packed up yesterday and drove with the children, stopping every 2 hours for a snack, drink and a run (any old grassy space will do, even a glorified median, but these children gotta run every 2 hours (at least) to avoid meltdown!) So that's the way we did it. It took all day to get to Chicago, but we kind of expected it.

We spent today with Ozayr's mom and brother as much as possible. I went to one session and Ozayr went to one as well. I feel bad that my MIL hasn't gone to as many as she would've, but Maymuna and Hafsa were so thrilled to see her, I could not bear to remind her of her original intent in coming here.

It's just really cool to be submersed in a minority culture. I mean, usually you see one or two Muslims for every 20 or 30 non-Muslims (I'd say 1 for 60 in Wisconsin, judging from what we saw). But it shakes your reality upside down for a minute when there are just a sea of Muslims - Arab, Indo-Pak, Malay, American, Canadian - all floating around the same space. The convention center and the 4 hotels around it are MozzieLand for these 4 days. The restaurant is offering a halal buffet and the bar is completely empty. It's amazing. I could watch for hours the different fashions, different ways the women wear their hijabs, the colours, the fabrics... It's a beautiful sea of colour and culture, it's a sight to see.

So we haven't done a lot really, and we've seen none of Chicago, the actual city. And we leave tomorrow. How's that for jet setting? But we have done exactly what we came for - see some special people - and it was perfect. Alhamdulillah.