Posts Tagged ‘Kids’

What the hezzy and fa-sheezy!!! This government intervention crap has to stop. They are so all up in the family business that pretty soon children will be hiring lawyers to take their parents to court to litigate time outs and groundings.

“Your honor, the plaintiff, 9-year old Bobby contends that his mother, a frustrated and overly concerned derelict is unduly stalking and harrassing him causing serious mental distress by constantly inquiring about the status of his homework and chores. She is also being charged of unlawful search and seizure of his property, which is listed as exhibit 1 (a nintendo gameboy) and exhibit 2 (a nintendo x-box 360).  The charges of wiretapping (interrupting his phone calls to call him to dinner) and slander (telling his father about his so-called bad behaviour) are being contested by the defendant.  We call our first witness, Bobby 6 year old sister Janey to the stand.”

The source of this particular rant comes from a news article that you can read below:

These kids were 10 and 12, which means they can walk to school by themselves, walk to the store by themselves, even to Timmy’s house but they can’t be left in a populated downtown area to drive around the corner to teach them a lesson? This is just another incident to destroy the influence parents have over their children. To undermine the authority of the parent in the life of the child.  This kind of thing drives me crazy.

…and Allah’s help we seek.


Last night I helped prepare my husband to go to his new wife’s house.

This is the moment we have all waited for, years of sit-downs, months of change of hearts. Now he is finally married. He took a shower after work, gathered up a few changes of clothes and put them in a walmart bag (a suitcase was more than he and I could stomach) and with a kiss and salaam, walked out the door.

I have cheerleaded this event for so long, I didn’t know how I would feel when it actually happened. Everyone says, “You mean well, Khair, but it’s different when you’re in it.” It’s been about 18 hours, so how do I really feel?

I feel a little lonely and a little fragile. It’s weird to have someone enter our sanctuary built from 12 years of struggles, triumphs, worries, fears and joys. What will the effects be. Will their presence enhance what we have, building upon what we’ve begun to make it stronger and more vivid? Or will there be destruction, ripping away bits and pieces of our peace, love and happiness. It’s a delicate situation.

The kids are excited. They love the sister and have been raised to have positive feelings about polygyny. Professor X rubbed his hands together fiendishly and said (mind you is is 10): “Now Abi has two houses to take care of, boy that’s gonna be some hard work. But guess what? I’m gonna have all four.” The girls already want to spend the night and are looking forward to all the Step-mommy gifts.

Before Hubby left he called me upstairs to our room and we joked a little bit and laughed. Then he looked at me seriously and held my hands in his and said: ” You still love me?” I hugged him close and said “You know I do, of course I do.” He pushed away a little so that he could look in my eyes and asked quietly: “You promise?”

A few posts back I introduced you to half of my family. The Teen Queen, Dude, Professor X and the Love Bug (Bug for short). I have six of these so I ran out of aliases and had to make a part two. Part one was about the older three. Now meet the younger three…

Love Bug (Bug):  I wrote about her before so I will keep it short here. She is a chocolate Betty Boop. Heart shaped face, big eyes, long lashes, kissy-lipped and ultra-feminine (when she doesn’t have one of her brothers in a headlock). She is a self-proclaimed ocean of love. One day she came to my bedroom door and just looked at  me… then she said “I love you, ummie. I really do. I mean, I can just feel the love from you to me” (she was 3 at the time).

Zen Boy: This one is actually older than bug so I guess I should have started with him first. But as the middle child he is usually the one that is passed over, left out or forgotten. He has sucked his thumb ever since he was about one month old. Seven years later and he’s still going strong. He is not forgotten in the sense of neglect but he is the opposite of the “squeaky wheel”. He maintains a constant state of peace and thoughtfulness. He is always contemplating the ways of the world and the after-life. It gets a little weird when he inquires about everything “can you die from that?” When he learned to read the first thing he chose to read under his own motivation was the Qu’ran. He is supper smart and sensitive and he loves animals. He used to catch flies, pulling off one wing so that it could not fly away. He would feed them drops of sugar water and talk to them, but of course the life span off a fly doesn’t last very long. And at each one’s demise he would weep as if he had lost one of his dear brothers. He is a sweetheart. Many times, he will come where I am and say, “I came to be with you, Ummie. I knew you were alone and I came just to keep you company. None of your other kids came to be with you, only me. ”

The Samurai:  When this one was born, I was making du’a to Allah for strength for him and me. I took him to the doctor when he was about a month old because I thought he had some kind of neural disorder, he kept making these twitching movements. I found out later that he was trying to move. He wanted to walk and crawl before he was able to. Because he was to small to walk and crawl, at 5 months he began to roll….. from one end of the house to the other.  This one is a fighter. He will be 4 soon insha’allah and he can swing a stick like a Samurai. He beats up his twelve year old brother, for goodness sake. When you look at him you see this little boy with doe eyes and a sweet smile. You may wonder what he is up to when he sidles up to one of his (much) older brothers, jumps on his back and commences to choke him and pound on his head. Not out of malice mind you. He’s just a gladiator. He is also a computer addict. He can cut on the computer, boot up the internet, navigate to his webpage of choice and play the game he wants and win! Of course he loves to play war and fighting games. He says “Ummie, look at my style!” And I watch as he does martial arts exercises as if he has been taking classes. May I remind you all that he is 3 years old! His motto is give me what I want and I mean now or he will throw the hugest tantrum you have ever seen. He will scream and kick and fall on the ground and then scream louder! Maybe he needs anger management classes.

I love my fam, may Allah guide us. They collectively drive me slowly insane, but my trials are worth the triumphs.


Mi Familia…

Posted: March 28, 2008 in Uncategorized
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How many people do you know that had six c-sections? We’ll your meeting one right now. No I am not on crack, no my mother did not drop me on my head when I was a baby and no, I was not forced to do it by my oppressive, abusive overly religious Muslim husband. I just love kids and was trying to do my part for the ummah of Muhammad and if I still had fallopian tubes (and weren’t afraid to be crippled or some other horrible thing) I would probably have more.
So of course six c-sections means six kids (I’ll get to hubby later). Out of propriety and anonymity, I will give them all nicknames (which I hope I remember for future posts).
  • Teen Queen:  She’s 14 going on 15 and thinks she’s my mother. I can’t believe the rolls are reversing so soon. She loves all things pink, wants to get married ASAP, and is a bookie monster (imagine cookie monster, only with books). She (mash’allah) wears hijab and niqab, memorizes qur’an and hadith like some sort of sponge and gives dawah to our family members. She enjoys beating up my husband, anything that entails speed and eating things very, very, very slowly. Although she has a hecka memory for the deen, she forgets most other things I tell her (could be the age though).
  • Dude:  My oldest son at 12, he is mister responsible. He is very controlling and particular about everything. His food has to always be prepared the same way, he has to divide everything up between his siblings evenly and he hates to try anything new. He too is blessed with an amazing memory (masha’allah) and has a passion for books. He is not into anything that appears dangerous (which appears to be most things) and is content to lay on a hill under a tree and read for hours. He loves animals, especially the ferocious beastly ones. He recently told me that he wanted to have a mongoose and a boa constrictor so he could put them both in a cage to see what happens.
  • Professor X:  This is the third oldest (could you guess I’m making this list by birth order?) son. He’s almost ten but is the same size (debatable, looks bigger to me) as the older one so they look kinda like twins. His passion is taking things apart to see how it works. He is fascinated by all things mechanical and avoids books like the plague. He is so perceptive until I can glance at him and he will instantly say “I love you too, Ummie). Gotta love the guy. He keeps trying to get a job. Seriously, a real job. When we lived abroad he came home one day and said “I got a job today, Ummie.” I was not surprised to find that everyday, he would stop after school and help some brothers who were building a house. He would happily carry bricks and hold tools and whatever else the asked him to do (for free). He is a doppelganger for my husband, which is scary.
The last three kids I call the little ones, and I will have to get to them in another post.

Can You Sell Your Kids To The Circus?

Posted: March 15, 2008 in Uncategorized
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You know, I always thought that as my children got older, my job would become easier and easier. What a joke! Older kids are messier, sassier and du-uhm…more mentally challenged (wink, wink) than younger kids. Just the other day my teenage daughter was ironing our niqabs, in a hurry to go shopping with her father. The Teen Queen as she will be referred to heretofore in this alleged incident (and other areas of my blog) finishes mine and places it over the back of a chair. As I am tying the thing on, I am greeted by a strange smell.

My fellow niqabis know what I’m talking about. How many times have you put on your niqab and smelled the smell. Kinda reminiscent of cat breath.

Me: “Ew, what is that smell?”

TTQ: “What smell?

Me: “I don’t know. (sniff, sniff) Some weird smell. Smells like cat breath.”

As I turn for the febreeze (that I make myself with fabric softener and water. Try it girls you’ll like it) I hear a bloodcurdling scream followed by peals of unrestrained laughter.

You can only guess what she does if you live with a being of the “teen” persuasion. Yes, she smelled the hot, steaming iron.

I mean she was cracking up. My husband looks around in a panic asking what happened. All I could do was stand there looking at her in incredulity (yes I can still use big words after 6 kids and 6 c-sections…. that’s another post though). I guess she thought that since she had just ironed the niqab, maybe the suspect smell came from the iron. Shes lucky she didnt burn her nose off.

I only regret that I didn’t catch it on camera and publish it on

The Love Bug…

Posted: March 8, 2008 in Uncategorized
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Bug: “Ummie, I love you so much! Don’t say it Ummie, please don’t.”

Me: “I love you more.”

Bug: “I love you all the way to the moon.”

Me: “I love you more than that.”

Bug: “I love you all the way up to Allah.”

Me: “I love you more.”

Bug: “Ummie, there is no more. There’s nothing after Allah. When I say I love you up to Allah thats it.”

Me: “Okay, I love you the same as that.”

A five year old’s class on tawheed. We have this conversation almost every day. But she hates when I say I love you more because thats pretty hard to beat…until today….touche baby girl!


Me and the teen queen (my oldest daughter) went to Walmart together the other day. I was there to pick up some much need items (ice cream) and see if I could get her glasses fixed at the optical center there. After an extra long wait, I start to feel like maybe I’m waiting extra long on purpose. So I’m getting an attitude of course. But I wait patiently. There is a man looking at glasses on the other side of the room, he comes over and places a pair of frames on the counter and stands there to wait. Miraculously, a clerk comes out and *pretends* to be doing something at the desk where we are all standing.

Me: “Excuse me. Does someone normally work at this desk?”

Nasty Clerk Lady: “Yes. But we are all busy with other customers right now. Someone will be with you in a moment.”

She then motions to one the other clerks to wait on the other guy with the frames. EXCUSE ME!! Now impatience is turning into fumes and fumes into flames. I was here first!! Keep it calm. Don’t start any fitnah.

Nasty Clerk Lady (returning): “How can I help you?”

Me: “My daughter broke her glasses, do you do repairs here?”

Nasty Clerk Lady (taking the glasses and looking them over with a very weird smile on her face): “Yes we fix them but we’re not responsible if they break.”

Me: “Okay, about how much do you normally charge.” Now we’re getting somewhere.

Nasty Clerk Lady: “Oh no charge. But we’re not responsible if they break.”

Me: “Great. Do they look fixable?”

Nasty Clerk Lady: “Maybe. But we’re not responsible if they break. You know we’re not responsible if they break. If they break while we are attempting to fix them, we’re not responsible.”

Me: “Lady, they’re already broke.”

Nasty Clerk Lady: “Yes. But if they break we are not responsible.” WHAT!!!!!

So it dawns on me that she doesn’t WANT to fix them. Oh, ok! I take my daughters glasses back and we turn to leave the store. I am so upset by this time. I can’t believe she made us wait, took someone ahead of us and basically refused to help us. Now, I am human. And unfortunately for me I was not born muslim. I mean I only took my shahadah what 15 years ago. All sorts of derogatory statements fell from my lips as we walked from the store to the car. Pregnant animal of the bovine variety, disbeliever endowed with a strong and unpleasant smell (this post has been edited for censored content…see title) unclean, disagreeable (I can’t think of any more replacement comments for what I really said sorry).

The Teen Queen says “Ummie, that’s not nice. You’re not supposed to say things like that.”

Me: “Why not? She’s just a kafirah. Did you see how nasty she was being to us? I should have said it to her face.”

Teen Queen: “No, Ummie that’s not right. You shouldn’t say those things.” How dare she take up for her. I mean she wronged us. I have a right to vent my frustrations right?

So we get home and I break out the book Riyadhus Saliheen by Imam An-Nawawi. This book is excellent for daily study. It covers so many vital points in the life, worship and character of the muslim. Each chapter starts with verses of the Quran and then gives the statements of the Prophet Muhammad on the particular subject. I want proof for my position that you can say whatever you want to a kafir. But what I found was this:

  • 50:18 “Not a word does he (or she) utter, but there is a watcher by him ready (to record it).”
  • #1511 “Narrated Abu Hurairah (radi’Allahu anhu) Allah’s messenger said “He who believes in Allah and the last day must either speak good or remain silent.” (muslim)
  • #1520 “Narrated ‘Uqbah bin Amir (radiAllahu anhu) I asked Allah’s messenger “How can salvation be achieved?” He replied ” Control your tongue, keep to your house, and weep for your sins.” (at-tirmidhi)
  • #1734 “Narrated Ibn Masud (radiAllahu anhu) Allahs messenger said: “A true believer does not taunt or curse or abuse or talk indecently.” (at-tirmidhi)

Well how you like that. So I sat the kids down and gave them a short talk on the blessings of controlling the tongue and made a mental note to thank Allah for blessing me with such astute kids that do not hesitate to correct me and remind me of his pleasure.