Friday, August 21, 2009

Blessed with the blessed month

... and in dire need of Allah's mercy.

I never said I was normal

Just one of the occasional TMI posts on this blog, and then I will get to something much more serious. I need to get this out of my head so I can stop imagining concentric circles growing on my skin. Last night, I felt I was going insane. I mean, I was irritable, my hands were shaking, and I lay in bed, tortured by images in my head.

My husband asked me if there was something I needed to talk about.

“Yes-the fungus growing on the mulch outside the kitchen window.”

Do you know what I’m talking about? That random something that you can’t stand the thought of. Seeing it, hearing it, touching it, makes you feel like someone sliding a straight pin under your fingernails, scratching a chalkboard, or a million ants crawling up your spine. We all squirm at the thought of snakes and spiders, but what about perfectly ordinary things? I used to have a silk scarf when I was a girl with tiny, little circles all over it, pin-head sized white circles and inside, tiny black circles. It reminded me of eyes, snails, some kind of invasive growth. I would close my eyes and shove it out of sight anytime I encountered it.

Yesterday, I happened to glance out the kitchen window and an irregular pattern caught my eye. WAIT-THERE SHOULDN’T BE A PATTERN ON MULCH! My evening was ruined. I felt compelled to look out the window every few minutes, squinting so I wouldn’t really see the pattern of circles—just a little bit. I lay awake last night relishing the thought of running out in the darkness in my nightgown with a rake, scraping off and pulverizing everyone of those ghastly, little circles.

I asked my husband to remove them in the morning, and he forgot. When I went out to take pictures of the offensive growth, I half-expected the circles to suddenly start multiplying until they reached my feet, growing in between my toes and on my tongue, finally encasing me in a crust of tiny barnacles.

Doesn’t that completely freak you out? *shudder* ... No? Hmmmmm …

FUNGUS-MOLD-SPORES-ALGAE-PARASITE-BARNACLE-MILDEW-MUSHROOM!

Monday, August 17, 2009

Everyone has a breaking point

I poured Moona and Buru two glasses of cold milk and ovaltine a few days ago. The conversation went something like this:

Moona: Shukran Mama.
Buru: (after a short pause) Mama mine.
Moona: She's my mother too.
Buru: Mama. Mine.
Moona: (calmly) No. She's your mother and she's my mother.
Buru: Mama mine!
Moona: (patient sigh) No. No-she's both of our mothers.
Buru: Mama MINE!
Moona: No! She's my mother too!
Buru: MAMA MINE!
Moona: She's not your mother only!
Buru: MAMAMINE!

Moona runs out of the kitchen wailing, and Buru smirks.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Sentimentality

toesinmouth

Things are different with baby Meem. I'm not so anxious that she grows up quickly so she can walk, talk, and turn the world upside down. I'm not as eager to teach her things as I am to have her head resting on my chest, cherish the feeling of her breathing on me.

The little things she does, the toes in the mouth, the wide-eyed look of utter wonderment when she finds a scrap of paper on the carpet, the soft grunts of contentment after she is full--I want to remember them. All of a sudden, I've gone all sentimental. I don't know if this will be my last baby, but there's probably not going to be too many more (if Allah wills).

So when I'm not completely overwhelmed, I am savoring this one, drinking her up.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

What are you going to do this year?

So the question has been asked, many, many times. What are we going to do with Moona this year? Buru? They're the age that we need to think about schooling options.

I usually don't want to get into long discussions, so I tell them that Moona is only four, and that she'll be home for another year. But the truth is, I think I'm going to homeschool my kids, but am so unsure of that decision that I really don't want to discuss it with people yet!

I am really convinced that for me and my kids, homeschooling is one of the best options we have. Yes, I am scared that I won't have the discipline to teach them well. Yes, I am scared that my kids won't be socialized enough. Yes, I am scared that they won't be comfortable in their own homeland. Yes, I am scared that they won't become the du'aat -callers to Allah- that I so hope they become. Yes, I am scared that I will do it all wrong and mess up their brains. Yes, I know about all of the things that can go wrong-they keep me awake at night. But there are a lot of things that insha'allah, if Allah helps me, can go so right.

So after lots of dua and istikhara and consultation with my husband, I think it is the best road for us. So here is announcing to the world, "My kids are not going to school. I'm going to try to facilitate the best iman- and quran-based education I can at home."

And now that I've said it, I better get my act together.