Blogger is reeeeeeeeeeeeeally hacking me off

And I have a cold but can't decide whether my hayfever has also kicked off as well. Urgh.

Well, lookie what *I* got...

OK, today it was raining and boredom/stress levels were dangling ready to pounce. Boss was most upset to learn that we would not be going into the garden, or to Activity World *or* to Aunty M's, or in fact leaving the house in any shape or form. In fact he pulled his sad-puppy-eye face and tried to make himself cry. I told him to can it or I'd go back to bed to sleep. He took one look at me and realised I was speaking the truth so stood at the window and watched traffic. Again. However, today was the day when, through the eery fog and miserable rain, a death coach - an old-fashioned herse-coach and horse contraption with horses wearing morbid black feathers and two ghost-like men with ugly black top hats sitting holding their reigns, clip-clopped past in an odd Jonathon Creek-ish type march past our house disappearing into the fog at the roundabout at the end of our road.

Boss' reaction??

"MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUM I'M FRIGHTENED!!! CUDDLE ME!!!!!!!"

His fear was only abated when I told him the man was dead and was being put into the ground to go back to Allah to answer for his deeds. "So he not coming back then?" was the relieved reply.

Bleeding well hope not.

LMM - did you get the comment on your blog about the dishwasher? Hubby getting some tested today for you and will tell me tomorrow insha'allah the cost.
HO - ditto but with the fax machine. He says there are some really professional ones he has landed (I think from BakerPerkins but not sure), which although don't have a portable phone you could just buy one of those plug-in sockets depending on which would be more useful (either double phone socket or double phone with modem if yo have dial-up) and just keep your old phone. I think he was saying some of the fax machines can be run through the PC but I wasn't listening to him by this point. Anyway, insha'allah you too should know tomorrow if they are working etc. OK?

Right. Well the AC unit my hubby was working on didn't pan out after all due to the Laws of Physics (damn them) which meant it is literally physically and mathematically impossible to run an AC unit without an outlet pipe (thus meaning we'd have to open the window for it - defeating the purpose, or putting a hole in the wall - not our house and can't be bothered getting the permission to do that. Which wouldn't happen). So, undeterred, my hubby got me THIS instead:



He's an African boy and doesn't need fans but got this just to stop me whining. It's quieter than any other fan we have and, well, kids can't trap their fingers in it. It reminds me of all my Dad's photos of his Mum and Dad in Singapore - some dingy, mosquito-infested rat hole before the days of real cooling systems. But it really does the job masha'allah!! So, that's kept me quiet.

On an education front we did squaddly today. As usual. Play-doh, half-hearted painting, half-hearted gluing and pasting, half-hearted everything. He proudly tells me he knows all his letters now. I need to be persistent in that every day I want some skill work going on - even for 5 minutes - you know, holding the pen, learning a letter, remembering a number - it all goes in and should make it easier later on insha'allah.

LeapPad still a big hit masha'allah. I'm wondering if I've just installed a TV replacement though?! Hm... oh well, like Hubby says, I'd be hacked off if he never played with it. But the background music is annoying me somewhat. In fact, it's in my head 24/7. I dream with this background music now. What to do?

Anyway, here's praying for garden weather tomorrow!!!

The blog LMM is dreading ... :P

OK I wrote a blog entry before and blogger ate it so I'm really hacked off now.

Nice visit today, sorry I was/am such a mardy mare. Boss enjoyed it immensely and said "Saf is a really, really nice girl actually", and it was a genuine heartfelt comment. He likes the silliness of boys but gets on really well with girls masha'allah. H2 is also a big hit...

The down-side to the visit was having to wrench myself away from a house with a beautiful kitchen back to my slob-house with its awful kitchen. Was quite depressing. I hate my table. See for yourself exactly WHY:




And want another one. A table that is beautiful to look at, doesn't wobble and doesn't kneecap you everytime you try to pull a chair up would be nice.

OK so what did we do over the loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong weekend, then? Hm... we went to Notcutts and bought seeds and bulbs and compost and flowers. Last year we left the garden to its own design and it was a disaster, so this year we both want to spruce it up.

I also want a patch of wildgarden flowers to encourage the kind of butterflies etc that fussed over patches of cultivated flowers don't really encourage. But seeing as Boss is already displaying a morbid fear of winged creatures maybe this isn't such a crash-hot idea?? Think I will nag my ground on this none-the-less. I want some bugs and butterflies to look at at any rate.





I would also like a tub of freesias and/or a shrub by the back door. I definitely want some lovely smelling flowers in the garden this year.



And my hanging basket in the back garden is currently a collection of twigs. Need to sort that out too: This looks good:



A bit of colour makes all the difference to peoples' moods.

Anyway, currently my heartburn is in it's umpteenth week and getting steadily worse - my back hurts with it. Hubby got the Gaviscon and am waiting for the results - didn't realise how much it hurt til some pain abated!! Kids - you really suffer for them dontcha...

Better go and have a conversation with my hubby I suppose... back in a minute :P

PS here is a new link: Postman Pat - Boss loves it.

Made *me* laugh, anyway

Boss gets his colours 'red' and 'green' mixed up to such an extent that I think it is safe to say he is colour-blind. It goes beyond coincidence and he actually said the other day "Oh it looks red to me", and really unless he knows out of persistent habit something is green everything green is labelled red. I am a tad sorry for him as I have no idea how he must view the world and whether or not it affects his ability to see the vast beauty displayed in our technicolour world, or what.

Anyway, today we were in the car and Hubby pointed out a train and said, "Look M, that train is purple", when actually it wasn't. So I quipped, "Oh are you colour-blind too - maybe that's where Boss gets it from then?", to which Hubby replied, "No, I just don't know my colours". And I nearly wet myself. I hope he hasn't lost any jobs in engineering on account of this!

Made me laugh, anyway.

Willy wonka cont'd....

He asked again, "Mummy, do you have a willy wonka?", I think he is just making sure he understood the ground-breaking news right. "No, darling, I don't have one" .... "Mummy....you don't have a willy wonka??"...."No, I don't have one" ... "Mummy .... you don't have a willy wonka?" ... "M .. Mummy does NOT have a willy wonka in any way, shape or form"... *cogs working* ..."Mummy, is your willy wonka broken??". "No. I am a girl and girls don't have willies." *Runs through to the kitchen* "DAD YOU GOT A WILLY WONKA??" *grown man replies* "Yes I have a willy wonka" *Grown man mumbles under his breathe how it's really nothing but trouble* "Ah, dat's nice".

Men.

Eh?

Is this man running for Prime Minister-ship or summat??

Article

Boss was in the bath this evening and said, "Oh here is my belly-button", "yes, there is your belly-button, darling...". "Do *you* have a belly-button, Mummy?", "yes, darling, *everyone* has a belly-button (*hopes he doesn't ask if cows and cats have belly-buttons as I don't know*)". Then he says, "And here is my willy wonka... do *you* have a willy wonka, Mummy?", "no, darling. I don't. I'm a girl and girls don't have willy wonkas", and here is the one-liner that affects all male-thinking: he looked at me with a genuine look of concern and pity and said, "Aw, poor you".

Hmm.

*Cluck cluck* ...ain't nobody here 'cept us chickens...

Cute or what?! C'mon girls... you know you want just *one* more sprog....

Anyway, hope Aunty K is reading this from the comfort of her own house. What a day for you ((K)). I'm a bit miffed that you didn't come back for the afternoon - am I such a terrible hostess??! Hope the door is functional at any rate. Poor you. (Poor I1??! if he got it in the neck)

Nice to have a little guest this morning in the form of H1; it was nice to see how Boss interacts 1-on-1 and how his conversation skills (nearly wrote conservation skills which I suppose are good too...) are really touching aw..."I going through to wivving woom - you coming H1?... Oh OK den. See you", and of course was pleased as punch when he was followed through. Aw...

I am pleased that the pieces of plastic and wood that currently are ignored for more pleasuarable pursuits of riving my curtains off their rails and trashing my light-fixtures were being not only used but actually played with for more than 2 minutes with a look of genuine interest on a child's face! Of course Boss wanted to introduce H1 to the pleasurable art of trashing afore-mentioned room, but alas! found a child willing to apply himself instead. So what did we learn today from this unexpected visit: 1) put make-up just in case and stop scaring people, Debbie 2) Boss learned that people do *not* like to be sat on and/or pushed/gerotted and managed to stop it 3) big boys use the loo and Boss couldn't wait to use it too now 4) always keep your keys with you when you step out of your house :P:P

Boss was sad to see H1 go, but handled it well, masha'allah.

What else happened. Oh yes, my phone's numbers are obviously sticky because when I tried to ring my husband I got through to another chap, very polite and educated-sounding, unfortunately I had just let-rip at Boss for dismantling my sofa and the poor man answered his phone to something like this DO IT NOW! DO IT! PICK IT UP! HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU??! DO IT. AND THAT ONE. PICK IT UP. HURRY UP. *thinking it was hubby* WHERE ARE YOU??!
(Nice man says) "...er hello?"
(Mad screamy Muslimah yells) "...YEAH??! WHAT??!
(Nice man) "er... you ...er... you just called my phone"
(Mental woman who needs to eat something) ".. YEAH?? SO WHERE IS HE??"
(Nice man) "...er...um... who? You ...er... just called my phone"
(Egg-on-face lady instantly calm) "Oh... right. I think I've called the wrong number, actually. I'm really sorry for wasting your time, and I'm really sorry I've just screamed in your ear..."
(Nice man) "er...that's no problem...Ok. Bye".

What a nice chap; if I knew what number I'd rung I would call him back and try to set him up with my sister.

Anyway. I'm pooped.

xx

PS I write snottily. I can't help it, because underneath it all I'm a cow, so you know, it's not personal...

And now for something completely different

An article: What Our Mothers Didn’t Tell Us: Why Happiness Eludes the Modern Woman - pdf

What a surprise... not

"What the high will not defend the fists of low strike fiercely down."

Article

Sigh

Article

Phew

Someone returned Boss when I was sleeping and now have a normal child on my hands again. Alhamdulillah.

And for the grand finale...

... yet another session of how Debbie does every-effing-thing wrong. Just one long week of criticism so far. Given the fact that no one (in my entire LIFE) has ever said, "Hey, Deb - I really think you do x/y/z/ really well" I have to the conclusion that I can do nothing right. A bit melodramatic, but either I am surrounded by miserable bar-stewards who can't see anything to be grateful for without grimacing, or I really AM that crap at everything I turn my hand to.

They'd make good Wahhabis...

ARTICLE

Feeling somewhat vindicated...

... after one-of-those days which sees no resolution to "behaviour" issues other than Other-Half giving little sermons on the virtues such as "mercy" and "patience" and "kindness" and "tolerance". Yes, yes, so promptly left them to it in the garden while hubby tried to do some work out there. Oh wow what a surprise when I heard not half-an-hour later the same nagging comments coming out of his mouth that had come out of mine not an hour earlier. Was tempted to remind him of his sermons but managed to bite my lip and enjoy doing my own jobs in peace.

Was talking to my Mum about this this afternoon, about how some days Boss is just off the scale and she remembers very well the year we went to visit for a whole week and how she had made the mistake of telling me to "lighten up" and "don't go on at him so much", which meant I promptly sat on my bum and did *nothing* for an entire week - her Royal Dalton - her problem, then. Nothing like shoving people in at the deep end of your life for them to appreciate your struggles a bit more. After many platitudes of "Well, Debbie, I have raised three of my own children, I think I know how to cope..." we finished the week with a "My goodness he *is* a little dynamo - I don't know how you manage day-in day-out!", and even my sister admitted that she realised how much effort it is to watch him for even 5 minutes.

And granted, he has calmed down a lot as he has gotten older and only occasionally does he revert to his manic modes (which were once the every day norm), but I still find those days bewildering. I have noticed though how I have managed to ignore a lot of behaviour issues which used to get me popping blood vessels in the side of my head. I think after an afternoon of letting Hubby deal with what I generally deal with all day has left him realising (in his own words) that Boss "must like being nagged or something", because there are some moments when he is just in-yer-face-stupidly-destructive, and if we didn't love him I think we would drop-kick him.

Which, in a perverse kind of way, makes me happier to HE him. I can't imagine a teacher putting up with this type of, erm, "robustness" for very long. My cousin is a primary school teacher and if they haven't learned to line up, sit down, be quiet and knuckle down within a term she wants them on Ritilin. Patience may be very thin on the ground when you are a parent, but at least we love our kids enough to try to sort through it all rather than labelling them as "issues" that must be "dealt with".

There is a book entitled "Raising Boys" which I've only ever flickered through, but one thing I read was that boys are needier than girls in terms of needing constant contact with their mothers/parents for the first three years of life, thus meaning nursery isn't such a red-hot idea for boys below that age. Boys also need cuddles and affection, even though they don't readily accpet or ask for it, but because of the way they are - the way they interact with others and their energy levels etc - they tend to get pushed away more, receive less affection and get smacked much more than girls. I try to remember that when my first instinct is to shut the door on him and get on with some work while my blood vessels return to normal levels. Now I just go in and cuddle him extra tight and read a book snuggled up. Most days that is just the ticket. But today... today was the day he bit my nose. *Sigh*

So.

Feeling somewhat vindicated, even though I fail on many levels most of the time...

Just when you think you have it all worked out...

... the sky caves in. Well, not quite, but something along those lines on an emotional/hormonal level. Boss woke up with stupid amounts of energy and half the "listening to reason" ability he usually has. So instructions/requests have been forgotten/ignored within nanoseconds and this has resulted in a lot more bounce, harm and damage than usual. Currently smashing into walls and chairs and my pregnant bump and my bum and stairgates and doors and... (you get the picture, surely). And no matter how much he hurts himself he just gets up and keeps on going. He *is* the Energizer Bunny. I am trying to get him to understand that if he keeps this level of smashing into things up, that one day he may sprain his wrists. So far this message has kept him from smashing into things too much, and we have slowly weaned himself out of the habit of literally dive-bombing onto/off the sofa, narrowly missing sharp corners and peoples' teeth, but today was the day when violence was obviously more important to him than personal health and safety.

I have been told that this is obviously fulfilling a need in him, but I'm b*ggered if I can think what it is.

Then. Coupled with this I feel as though I am having *period pains* and that's just not fair!!! My stomach is cramping, I have a trapped nerve in my back and I feel as though I've been booted from my neck to my tail-bone all evening. I can't walk all that well and I'm feeling a little teary.

So, great combination as you can imagine.

It's at times like this when people tell me to "relax" and "go with the flow" that I wish they would just come here for a week and see how they would react to all this. The days when Boss is lovely and cuddly and not-so-bouncy are wonderful, but full-on days are sending me into a tail-spin. Ahhh! Either I accept the levels of destruction that days like this bring, or we have a certain amount of friction. Tough choice.

Sad really

Is nothing sacred?

Hmm

Teachers see God as 'too boring' for RE
By Julie Henry, Education Correspondent
(Filed: 20/03/2005)

God is being edited out of religious education lessons in schools for fear that His presence might bore children.

A study at Exeter University found that biblical accounts of the Good Samaritan, David and Goliath and Joseph were taught as ethical stories, with no reference to God, in increasingly secular classes on religion.

Article here

Remembrance (dhikr) of Allah is the Greatest Thing

Just for Aunty K

Appropriate apparel when visiting your lot:

P.S.

As an aside some men in suits and smart cars have been caught in the dead of night rumaging through peoples' bins and recycling bins and making off with fistfuls of pieces of paper and documents when disturbed by the local busy-bodies. Identity fraud is a well-known practice but it seems it has now hit here, so if there are any of you who don't currently shred your letters (anything with your name, address, and any other detail about you) then it might be wise to start doing so.

Plus, a couple weeks ago some neighbours of ours said that some smart men in suits had knocked on their door and when the woman answered they had attempted to boot the door in - the only thing that stopped them was the door chain, so be aware of people in smart suits knocking on your door too!

Farm

Went to Sacrewell Farm today. Never been before. Hubby tried to make out it was a huge mistake as Boss would be happier at the park; so I pretty much felt like I was dragging them all around with me - until, that is, we hit the Mill House and Boss saw a water wheel and the cogs - then we had instant attention and all-round fascination. He was fascinated with everything except the animals (hmmm...); he liked anything on wheels, and he really loved the little stream and threw endless sticks in - he actually jumped up and down and kept saying, "More sticks! YES!" with fists in the air. Then we saw some lambs, he got to play on a peddle tractor then he had a real tractor ride with his Dad and got a chocolate Easter Egg as a gift at the end of it all. He seemed content and if nothing else he knows there are more things to life than the park and railway station!

Came back home and he started to play with his tractors making some conceptual leaps in certain things which he would not have made before the hands-on experience, and his Dad beamed at me and said, "Look! He's worked that out!" - so is that an admission that taking him *was* an OK thing to do after all then?

Instincts *are* a wonderful thing, aren't they?

Came away from the farm wondering why I eat meat at all, though, as I generally think that animals are kept in the most disgusting conditions, even when they are well kept.

Anyway, apart from that, today Hubby had cooked a wonderful meal before we all left for the farm and I had, once again, roasted chicken ("I remember last week you said you wanted it"). So, aw...

Bump starting to hurt now and kept me awake most of the night. Oh well. Back ache, bump ache... what to do...

I'm pooped. Spent all morning blizting the house (with loads still left to do). Something about spring that sends my brain into overdrive regarding getting the house back into order. I hate mess. I mean I really really hate clutter.

Jzk to Aunty H.O. for not driving off and leaving us when the road was blocked, and instead, like the UberTrooper she is actually endeavouring to pick us up on time. We were actually waiting in the garden for you, and had I used my brain I would have taken the phone out with me. I told Boss - "look Aunty H might not come after all because of the men who are parking their cars to get to the mosque" and you should have seen his little face drop - all disappointment and concern. Aw. So an extra "hurrah" for being there after all and not having my son's heart broken. Extra special du'a going out to you from both of us. And the phone wasn't in the sink after all *phew* - but pretty close...

And Merry, I don't know which one of your girls was playing with the cars in AWorld this afternoon, but she has an ardent not-so-secret-admirer here! He keeps going on and on and ON about her with a huge silly grin on his face! He really was taken with her very much! Gushing, almost...

Anyway, if nothing else AWorld really put me in my place about pain-relief options at my birth. I wish I'd never opened my mouth, but as far as I can tell all pain-relief is a big, fat lie which hurts you more than the birth. Like HO said, "and what pain relief is there for the pain relief then?". Damn. Anybody tried TENs then?? Just about seems my only option as nothing else works.

AWorld put me in my place about a lot of things actually.

Anyway, Boss played in the garden happily all afternoon and the girl next door came in and played and they love each other very much; she's a very easy-going-natured girl, not a teary, stroppy sort, which is good as Boss is quite rough! Aw, when she has to go in she goes "Have to go now M" and she picks him off his feet and gives him a big kiss. How many 6 year olds would do that? Aw. Alhamdulillah.

Chat Room

Just added a chat room (look in the links bar). Thought it would be good to talk in real time seeing as we seem to be online at the same time - just log in to see if anyone is on board and chat if you feel like it. No subscription required ;)

Ceeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelebrate good times COME ON

*Sniff* Can you smell what I smell?? *Sniff* Could it be *Sniff sniff* the smell of SPRING in the air?? Well whatever it is - what a day! For the first time in six months I managed to put washing on my washing line. Woo Hoo. Do you know how excited that makes me?? No, of course you don't because you all have lives, but for me this is better than, like, a thousand Eids all rolled into one - washing on the washing line, life just doesn't get any better than THAT.

So, with all this drying power at my finger tips I washed just about everything that wasn't nailed down or on fire, my next load in and ready to spin first thing a.m. LET'S ROCK.

On an altogether different note Boots have a number of mark-downs on some toys, which you'd think I'd be happy about, but *grumble grumble niggle niggle* had I known about this new event in the consumer calendar - mid-season sale in MARCH - I may have been savvy enough to save myself some POINTS on my card, because everything I have bought recently has now been reduced, meaning I could have had an extra - wait for it - £20 to spend off my Boots card points on things I may or may not have needed. It irritates me no end to know that fact, but I will finish this wailing and gnashing of teeth consoling myself with the knowledge that it is all from Allah and well, what to do.

Must make mental note, though, that along with January and Summer sales we have a half-term event between both events which means, at the last calculation there are now four major sales events in the year. Plus mid-mid term sales which some stores crack open every so often. Why doesn't everybody just make everything CHEAP and be done with it?!

Bought some new slip-on shoes for the summer as 1) I am fed up of having to bend over to put my shoes on as it HURTS now (plus when I visit people I find the experience of trying to get my shoes on whilst Boss tries to ram his head up my bum quite disconcerting), and 2) there is no two. They were over-priced at £5, and yes that's not a lot of money in the scheme of things but a) I don't have it and b) they are really only worth, by a quick evaluation of the craftmanship, about 75p. So... *grumble grumble*.

Got Boss a new bubble-blower from ELC (Boots) as they are reduced and, well, I like bubbles. Dunno how long this one will last either.... I wish ELC would open a proper store in P'b. I think we ought to campaign for one, actually.

Saw the two new baby twins next door today. Aw... teeny tiny. Bless them. Masha'allah. Currently there are four adults and an older child to dote over their every move and the only sound I have heard out of them since they returned from the hospital is a squeak before someone pounces on them quickly shoving something in their gob. She is breastfeeding so hats off to her - I couldn't do it. Unless Aunty K got that big book out again and tried to make me read it *hides under the duvet...."not reading, Miss"*.

But the best part of today is the fact that we spent no time whatsoever indoors. :))))) meaning I didn't have to see how dirty my house was. All round bonus!!

Roast chicken

Well, after my pitiful public appeal and several offers of roast chicken dinners with all the trimmings being taxi-ed to my door within hours of my public breakdown (which I was very touched by!) I was tended to by the Angel of Rizq this afternoon and me and Boss were treated to afore-mentioned gnosh. And very nice it was too masha'allah, my compliments to the chef(ettes). We had a continental style dinner, in that each serving was served separately from the other - first vege then chicken. I'm not sure if this was an attempt to step into the world of continental chic or more what happens when three Muslimahs who have 7 kids between them need to pray, break up fights, wipe snot, bounce babies and eat all at the same time. Boss liked his roast chicken "very much" and I think I will probably make the effort to roast him some - except how did you guys make it so tasty and brown??? Please advize non-domesticatable woman on your secret...

It would have been nice to have three mouthfuls of the meal in consecutive bites thus actually feeling as though I was having a meal rather than a pit-stop between child adoration, but I suppose those luxuries are for singletons and men. Spent close to two hours listening to this:

"Mum, so-and-so hit me... Mum, so-and-so nipped me ... Mum, come and look what I did... Mum, come and see this ... Mum, I've fallen kiss my bum... Mum, so-and-so pushed me ... Mum, I need the toilet... Mum, can't think of anything to say to you but you looked as though you were having an adult conversation and we can't have that now can we, so I just wanted to nip it in the bud...." then just as I'd de-tangled myself from the tell-tales Boss moved on to telling it all to Aunty K who had made the HUGE mistake of breaking up a nipping incident thus incurring all the "your son did this to me" for about half an hour extra. You know, I never thought I'd see the day when I would hear myself say "OH JUST PUNCH HIM".... *sigh* Will have to teach him a few wrestling and head-lock moves in time for the next social engagement....

K was stating how we should write a book outlining the dross of motherhood to counter-act all those over-hyped sentimental books which make motherhood out to be somekind of adventure play-ground, self-fulfilling experience. I think such a book would be very funny and no one outside of motherhood would believe it anyway. Just like "The Best-Friends Guide to Motherhood" which I read before giving birth to Boss and was quite alarmed at, but reading it afterwards left me nearly wetting myself.

So go on K write the book!!

Homeschool type rant

OK so like I was saying, my friend disapproves of me homeschooling Boss.

She will argue no end that state education is a good thing yet undo her own arguments in the next sentence if/when, for example, I have to spell something over the phone to her so that Boss won't twig, and I have to wait five minutes while she blends the consonants and vowels (audibly I may add) into a word. The last two notable examples being, "T-R-A-I-N" and "C-H-I-P-S". Which no joke, took so long I had to just tell her what it was. So.

Then on top of that, we have an altogether different understanding of what education really is. For her it is simply the acquisition of facts in case you are ever called upon to be a contestant on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" thus, like the over-grown lab. rat you really are, allowing yourself to cleverly press the lever which sends more food into your in-tray. For her "education" is simply the filling of a bucket. Now, for me education is a stepping stone for self-actualisation and human dignity whereby one can find communion with Allah, living a truly dignified life fulfilling their destiny and what they were created for. Education is not information. Education is more than carrying facts around like a donkey carries books. In Islam knowledge that doesn't change you isn't knowledge. True knowledge affects your inner state.

So. Then we have moved on to how deprived homeschooled children are, how they miss out socially etc. A good rant on that can be found here. So we are in a head-lock and I'm trying to convince her that state education is actually double-speak and what it isn't about is "education", but "control" and "normalisation" and "herd mentality". Which she gets uppity about like I am undermining everything she is.

Just to convince her that homeschooled people are actually better educated, smarter, socially more well-adjusted and can think outside the box more than the herded masses I gave her a few examples of people who have been HE-ed. Here, below is the list:

Authors:
William Blake,
Charles Dickens,
Pearl Buck,
Agatha Christie
Margaret Atwood;

social and political figures:
Benjamin Franklin,
Winston Churchill,
Samuel Gompers,
Charles Lindberg,
Florence Nightingale;

artists:
Andrew Wyeth,
Yehudi Menuhin,
Sean O'Casey,
Charlie Chaplin,
Claude Monet
Noel Coward;




Inventors:
Alexander Graham Bell
Thomas Edison
Alec Issigonis
Cyrus McCormick
The Wright Brothers
One of the world's richest men, Andrew Carnegie, was homeschooled until he was nine. He was coaxed into attending school after that, but by the age of thirteen Carnegie left school and never went back. School attendance is not the only way to become a successful, sociable adult.


Scientists:
Blaise Pascal
Pierre Curie
Albert Einstein
Booker T. Washington
George Washington Carver


American Presidents:
George Washington
Thomas Jefferson
John Quincy Adams
James Madison
William Henry Harrison
John Tyler
Abraham Lincoln
Theordore Roosevelt
Woodrow Wilson
Franklin Delano Roosevelt
Senator William Johnson George Wythe



And do you know what she said when I'd finished? Huh? She said...













.... "Well, who wants to be like them anyway".

That's better...

... food makes such a difference.

Right. So what today then. Went to Ferry Meadows with enraptured Boss, Aunty H, B and A. Would have been nicer yesterday with spring sunshine, but still I enjoyed it. Jzks for that :) Boss very much a fan of B - this evening he did his LeapPad and sounded out some numbers 1-5 and did a number game. Then he said proudly, "I know my numbers now", and of course I said "Do you darling? Masha'allah", "Yes. B not know her numbers", and I said "Oh I think she does, B is a big girl", "I big as well. I know my letters. B know her letters??", "Yes she knows lots of letters"... "I know my letters as well - I big *stands on tip-toes*". Aw... then he told his Dad nonchalantly that he knew his numbers and bristled with pride at the "awwwwwwwww..." reaction. Aw... I love it when kids try to act all grown-up - turns me to butter...

Anyway, the tantrum-type thing is very much related to not being "heard" as well as fatigue/food related. Got to a point this evening when it got a bit stressed and he started shouting and I just talked over him, and he just burst into tears. Aw. So I hugged him and said calmly, "M, Mummy listens to you; I listen to everthing you say", and he instantly calmed down. His Dad was trying to do the usual over-the-top distraction moves and make more noise than Boss in the attempt of making Boss forget his strop, but he has moved on from that stage and now his frustration is real. Boss got quite angry with his Dad and told him to "Shush! You don't listen! Not YOU now!", so will have to tell Hubby to can it when he gets like that. It's funny how somehow you know what's eating away at your kids by just picking up the subtlest of clues. Always makes me wonder how parents who put their kids into schooling expect the same level of understanding and responsiveness from a teacher-bot who is paid to spew nonsense and has no real interest in whether your child actually lives or dies seeing as they are paid by the month... how can a stranger who has 30 kids to "educate" pick up on all 30 subtle messages from the class?? Obviously a child in a herd cannot be tended to in the same way as a parent can tend to their own.

Ugh!

Urgh. Ugh. Tired. Hurting. Painy thing in face. Belly hurting. Tunnel vision. Must eat. Can't think. Maghrib. Pray come back soon.

Another Islamaphobe

Liddle is a Zionist btw:

Comment: Rod Liddle:

So Shabina, what’s the point of Britain?

My two young sons attend a Church of England primary school and so receive very little in the way of religious instruction. God is allowed into the school, every now and then, under supervision, but He is not allowed to meddle too much in the classrooms and He is barred from attempting to persuade the children to adopt an outlandish dress code in praise of His munificence, benevolence, etc.

But then, that’s our established church for you. It’s not very dogmatic, is it, Anglicanism? Indeed, the Church of England seems at times a little suspicious of God. Anglicanism is a bit of a lily-livered creed which would be heartily despised by Shabina Begum, the 16-year-old girl who persuaded the Appeal Court that she had every right to wear a jilbab — a top-to-toe expanse of hessian sacking with a small aperture for part of the face — to her “multi-faith” school in Luton.

Shabina is a Muslim and the Koran certainly insists that women should dress modestly, so as not cruelly to torment the inflammable, uncontrollable loins of men. There is some debate within the world of Islam about the degree of modesty demanded by Allah. But Shabina subscribes to an interpretation that insists that Allah wants the whole lot covered up in sacking.

There is little doubt that, were Shabina not a Muslim but nevertheless demanded the right to wear such clothing and, further, cited a wish to protect her feminine modesty from the eyes of lascivious men as the reason for so doing, she would be swiftly referred to a psychiatrist for counselling. But she is a Muslim, so she wasn’t. Instead, she — and her supporters — have got their way.

FULL ARTICLE HERE

Some headscarf things

... which I thought I'd blog as they never cease to wind me up.

'It's only a piece of cloth'

Can a woman in a hijab still get a taxi? asks Yvonne Ridley

Sunday December 12, 2004
The Observer

Wearing a headscarf is no big deal... unless you happen to be a Muslim, in which case this simple piece of cloth arouses opinions, hostile glances and worse.

When I converted to Islam I knew I would have to embrace the Muslim head-dress. As for many converts, it was a huge stumbling block and I found all sorts of excuses not to wear the hijab - basically a symbol of modesty and a very public statement. When I finally did, the repercussions were enormous. All I did was put on a headscarf, but from that moment I became a second-class citizen.

The reaction from some people was unbelievable. I knew I would become a target for abuse from the odd Islamaphobic oik, but I didn't expect so much open hostility from complete strangers.

I can no longer be sure of getting a black cab in London... something I had taken for granted for many years. Let me give you some examples from the past two weeks:

Edgware Road in London, an area with a substantial Arab population: three black cabs, orange 'for hire' lights glowing, drive past one after another. It's about 11.30pm and I'm freezing and desperate to get home. A fourth taxi stops to discharge a white passenger. I reach the vehicle and tap the window, beaming from ear-to-ear at my saviour. The driver turns and stares hard, his face contorted into hatred and rage, and drives off.

Last month, pre-hijab, he would have returned the smile; now, in his eyes, I have been transformed into a terrorist.

FULL ARTICLE BY YVONNE RIDLEY HERE

And here are some of the comments she received WHICH WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN MADE AND CERTAINLY NOT PUBLISHED HAD SHE BEEN A JEW PRACTISING JUDAISM!!

More than just a scarf ...

The big issue: women and Islam

Sunday December 19, 2004
The Observer

Yvonne Ridley's 'it's only a piece of cloth' (Comment, last week) is as unconvincing as couples afraid to commit to getting married who say 'it's only a piece of paper'.

No Muslim woman today has to wear even a headscarf (the last vestige of the chador), particularly in a free society where women have been fighting for so long not to have dress as men choose.

Oppressed Muslim women have been fighting to be allowed to walk around bare-headed and it seems a retrograde step to voluntarily put the clock back.
Nick Alexander
London SE22

Yvonne Ridley declared: 'When I converted to Islam I knew I would have to embrace the Muslim head-dress.' Who told her that? Among the Muslim women I grew up with in the Middle East, wearing the hijab was seen as a matter of choice or a tribal/cultural adornment. Let's not forget that this 'cult' of the hijab is relatively recent and should not be perceived as a religious necessity.
Tanya Tier
Worthing
Sussex

While Yvonne Ridley is happy to describe the hijab as 'a symbol of modesty and a very public statement', she is curiously unwilling to take any responsibility for the statement she chooses to make.

There is something ridiculous, not to mention offensive, in the suggestion that it is immodest for women to show their hair in public. To argue that the clothes you wear have a specific meaning in society, and that anyone who does not approve of this meaning has to pretend it does not exist, is self-centred. Wearing a headscarf is no big deal if that's all you're doing; making 'a very public statement' is something else, and it's something we're all allowed to do, even those of us who believe that the decisions of women such as Ridley help to maintain the status of all women as 'second-class citizens'.
Victoria Dutchman-Smith
Summertown
Oxford

Yvonne Ridley shows little understanding of the hostile reaction to her wearing of the hijab.

To the 'hostile', it represents an alien doctrine that treats women as enshrouded, segregated second-class citizens. One that requires abasement five times a day.

To make such proclamations of adherence to a creed so at odds with prevailing secular attitudes can only be provocative.
A Adler
London SW17

Yvonne Ridley seems to want it both ways. She wishes to demonstrate her allegiance to Islam, and asserts her clothing's symbolic significance; yet when that symbolism attracts less than courteous interest, she claims that symbolism doesn't exist.

Perhaps Ridley should consider the possibility that some of those 'glaring passengers' might have lost relatives to the terrorist organisations whose fashion sense she shares.
David Thompson
Ranmoor
Sheffield

ARTICLE HERE

You didn't get a hurricane did ya??

That's because the rule was suspended today! It actually was even an extra-nicer day than yesterday (or maybe it just felt that way because I was expecting the sky to fall in). But maybe that means it's quadrupling the effect in time for the weekend. Oo-er - better take advantage of the good times then....

Today was a lovely spring day masha'allah and I love spring a bit more than Autumn but in pretty much the same way - not too hot, not too cold, no hayfever, wasps still sleeping, leaves growing not dying, warm weather ahead and not behind us, and - the garden - the largest room in the house - is back on the agenda. GAME ON!

Took Boss for a walk, which he loves - he really likes hiking, but alas! inner-city walks are not my idea of a chilled out stroll, but seeing as Boss heavily into vehicles it seems to suit him down to the ground. Loves to go and look at smashed up/burned out cars, so pretty much living in the ideal area really.

Came back from walk and he played in the garden. Great. I suppose the lawn needs mowing soon... no problem, that is clearly hubby's domain - I ain't touching it. Everything *in* the house is my baby, and everything *out* of the house is his problem. Including rubbish.

Hubby came back extra- early (like 11:30am) to work on his pet project - he is attempting to turn a de-humidifier into an AC unit as I told him I wanted one two years ago - summers here are hell simply because I live on an A-road and opening the windows during the summer means dying from diesel inhalation at night. He also has another one which he wants to sell, so please make du'a that he manages to pull that out of the bag. He's a clever little so-and-so masha'allah. Thanks to Kdj who pointed Nas in the direction of my Hubby for washing machine work :) He some PCs for sale as well if anyone is interested??

Anyway, the downside to all this hard work is a messy kitchen. I mean, much more than usual. It's a tip. It's like a scrapyard. It's like a workshop - a dirty workshop, but I'm taking it like a grown-up, because I can go into the garden and forget about it.

Happy bunnies all round :)

Alhamdulillah...

Structure

I need more structure with Boss. Life is a drifting, aimless mess. He is bored. I am bored. If I had a car I am sure things would be a lot different, as I could just get out of the house, but I can't. So everything is house-bound. Which shouldn't be at all bad, but actually he is a very energetic boy masha'allah who just likes to run, explore, run, walk, run, bounce, run, jump, run, climb then sit for a bit then run some more. He doesn't stop til he hits the sack. Getting him to sit down all day and do arty things, or constructive things, or makey-things, or play-doh, or play with toys is simply a recipe for internal stress. So I'm stumped for ideas which will keep him intellectually happy. Bums-on-seat not an option.

Afternoons are quickly becoming wasted space and all he does is run around the living room in circles pretending to be a lorry. For an hour. If I suggest a "lets do lego" thing, or "lets play with the road set/train set/ anything" it will be out for 5 minutes while I play with it then he's up again looking for something else to do but really what he wants to do is RUN AROUND THE LIVING ROOM.

So.

Also I need to start implementing an Islamic routine with him, some kind of teaching material needs to be going on there. He ran up to the Arabic Poster today and said "Yaa for yad... look two dots underneath!"... er, yeah, bang on, but last time I told you that you were two-and-a-half. Can you believe that? It comes out now.

Do you ever sometimes get into the mundane rut of just life and wonder why you are unfufilled and realise its because you haven't done any dhikr for three months? Life is totally pointless without dhikr and although Boss knows quite a few tasbihs I never sit down with him and do any dhikr or read him any Qur'an stories. But I will teach him the English alphabet!! Come on, Debbie, get your act together woman.

And I had a weird experience whilst reciting Qur'an in my head this morning. I was really uptight (you know, more than usual... :P) and so just started reciting Surah Ikhlas in my head, simply because I wanted to switch off from thinking more than anything. All of a sudden it was like something under my skin was released and I literally felt all these bubbles of tension and angst and sadness that I didn't even know where there start to surface and dissolve. And when it was all over I felt really content and back on track. I have had other experiences whilst reading Qur'an but nothing quite so meditative-like. It's odd that when we need Allah the most we forget Him most of all. You know today was like I had started to breathe in after weeks of holding my breath.

And does anybody know of an effective du'a to aid someone in getting their lard butt into actually learning to recite Qur'an? I mean, I'm getting nowhere with it and I'm feeling a bit dead inside and I'm so nafsi that I can't envisage a time where I will ever had read it even once all the way through, so does anyone know of a du'a that will get that kick-started please??

Bracing myself...

... for the fall-out tomorrow, regarding the Universal Law of one nice day must be followed by a bad one. Well, if that is the case then tomorrow should see a hurricane ripping through the city, so prepare yourselves.

Today began really nicely masha'allah, full of smiles and laughs. Apart from hubby but then he doesn't count. Hubby took Boss to the park and Boss came back really in a good mood ready to wind me up. Then the rest of the afternoon was spent really bonding masha'allah - lots of hugs and kisses which is something he never does! In fact, I've noticed a change in him - this morning I asked him to "come here and give Mummy a kiss" AND HE DID!!! Gobsmacked....

Feeling a tad stressed out all round. Meal times is becoming labourious, and I wouldn't be so stressed out except now when he's hungry he's getting beligerent as well - really swiping for a good tantrum excuse. So it's not like I can just feed him when he gets hungry - now I have to pre-empt the strop. No pressure then. As far as I can tell he pretty much will eat anything except: anything with a tad of slime (such a mushy grape), anything which is too soft, anything which is just a bit too crunchy, anything which began its life as a root vegetable, anything beginning with "p", anything that I want him to eat, no mashed potatoe, no meat, no fish, no lemon, no citric flavours, no sweet-n-sour, nothing with bits in. So currently we are on: yoghurt, sometimes pilau, French toast, sometimes toast, sometimes chips, grapes, chocolate muffins and sometimes jam sandwiches.

*Sigh*

Anyway, I am assured that this is just a phase he is going through. He should be alright by the time he is 21.

Paul McCartney's bird says...

Ex-Beatle Sir Paul McCartney's wife Heather Mills is finding motherhood so tough she believes mums should be paid for looking after their children.

Mills, 37, is amazed by how all-consuming bringing up a baby is and claims looking after her 16-month-old daughter, Beatrice, is more difficult than going to work each day.

She says, "It's the hardest game in the world. All mothers should be paid a wage.

"Going to work feels like a holiday."

(c) Copyright World Entertainment News Network.

And mashed potatoe with oodles of butter.

So today

...was better, masha'allah. No screaming, no tantrums. He wasn't as tired as yesterday and I kept him well fed :) masha'allah. Plus I think I am noticing some real frustration that he just wants to be *listened* to right to the end of his sentence without his Dad butting in. Once he's said his piece and knows he has been fully heard he seems happy. But I think food helps his mood a lot.

Hm. What else. Mum rattled on about getting her new bathroom. I can't feign interest and just grunt, "you can give *me* your money if you can't think of owt to do wid it except buy something you've already got" which wasn't the girly response of "what colour will it be" that she was after.

I need to start finding some good Islamic books/resources for Boss. Hubby good at telling him stories, but I'm pretty clueless. I just tell him general aphorisms, which he likes to think about. Like the other day I was saying how Allah dislikes people who raise their voices and the Qur'an describes the noise of people who nag and shout like "the braying of an ass" and actually even the angels will leave a house which contains friction. So today he said (when I raised my voice a *teeny* bit... *teeny* honestly) "Mummy, don't shout! Muslims don't shout, Muslims don't talk like dat. Allah is angry with you now!" Which kinda put a fresh perspective on it mid-rant. So I need to start telling him other stories which might make an impression. He is currently in awe of the Cinerella saga and wants Aladdin and the Jinn story pronto.

I am also fed up with selfish people an apart from my darling Hubby I am surrounded by them. I was thinking the other day that if I hadn't met my hubby and his family I would be very much convinced that such goodness in the world was fictional. I am sure it is the same everywhere else too, in "industrialised" areas. There is something about urbanisation which robs people of their humanity, but poor people - people in rural areas or people who have suffered are so much more in touch with their humanity. I am glad I have met such people to convince me of this; much of the anomie and nihilism in the world I am sure is based on the meaninglessness of material aquisition at the expense of the virtues...

I have a craving for roast chicken. My Mum's roast chicken dinners actually. *sigh* Polos just aren't cutting it anymore. I want roast chicken with all the trimmings and I can't be bothered to cook it, and my dear Hubby would just turn it into a curry as he has no conception that you can cook any meal without ginger or chillies... and I wish those ready-roasted chicken from the supermarkets were halal *sobs bitterly*...

*hmmmmmmmm chicken.......*

*gravy*

Suppose

I should blog something then... Making a concerted effort to be extra-nice to my family/son in particular as Hubby making it v. clear I yell too much. Which, lets face it I do. And Hubby not v. happy about yelling as it is bad adab (hm...never translate that right, Islamic Manners/ettiquette) and it rattles his cage. Right, well in my defense nagging Mums are made not born, and after two hours of saying the same thing umpteen times being completely ignored in the same way I ignore ants and furniture fluff I noticed a good lambasting of the ear drums got the job done pronto. So you don't have to be a rocket scientist to realise the connection - lots of hours with no result or one yell and instant result?? I don't have the time, patience or energy for time-wasters and all round faffing about.

Anyway, I am *trying* to be a nice, happy mother who is responsive to her child's every utterance (was anyway) and doesn't yell at all.

And do you know what has happened in our blissful home of mutual understanding, co-operation, patience, tolerance and adab?? ALL HELL HAS BROKEN LOOSE.

Instead of appreciation I am getting more tears, more tantrums, more manipulation and more stressed out by continual "worship me NOW" mode. When I am nice to my hubby life gets *easier*; when I am nice to Boy I get stress-fest on legs. Why do children ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS *have* to take a mile when you give them an inch? WHY?!?

WHY?!?

So what do I do - revert to screamy-me? Aw, I love my boy, but being nice is such a lot more EFFORT....

Anyway, feel a bit better now except OMG I don't think I can HomeSchool my children - it seems so hard and complicated and .. and.. and... couldn't I just send my kids to one of you for 18 years please???? Everyone seems so competent!!

*hyperventilates*

Thank Allah for Polo Mints...

Life

As far as I can tell it goes a bit like this:

Life's a b*tch and then you die.

But some days it goes a bit like this:

Life's a b*tch and then she has puppies.

Well, today would come under the category of:

Life's a b*tch, then she has puppies, then *they* have puppies, they all have to goto the vet and incur a massive surgery bill, then they die, my head bursts into flames and we all goto Hell.




Just about sums it up.

Another good reason to HE

article

Interesting...

article

Sigh

article

I love my son

... masha'allah. I really rate him as an excellent human-being masha'allah. When I grow up I want to be just like him.

I don't have anything else to blog as we are still in virus recovery fetal position mode. Do you want to know more about that?? Didn't think so. All we want to do is sleep and sleep. Bored, yes. Any energy to alter that? No. And with droopy eyelids I say "goodnight children".

xx

Friday

Nothing to say today. Hm. Went to Drs a.m. (sooooooo a.m. that I am still hurting - did fajr salah at 5am-ish then just couldn't drop back off to sleep, then Hubby got Boss up at 7am ... yes he got *him* up at that time ... Boss' reaction? "You woke me up! Dat's not very nice when you do dat!"... too right...then Boss watched it SNOW and I tried to drag my lard butt out of bed into a right-way-round-skirt) we were the first appointment for the day and there was only us and another lady in the surgery *that's* how stupidly early we were. The Dr, whilst competent and nice enough, wasn't a kiddie Doctor, but very nice anyway. The only "oh please don't do that Boss" moment was when the Dr asked him to cough and, as usual, Boss reacted with a full scream and nearly deafened the poor man who had a stethoscope on the boy's chest at the time. Just glad he didn't kick out in frantic hyper mode or he'd have nutted the poor man as well. *Sigh* anyway, Dr gave him the all-clear and we have no ABs. Which I'm really rather relieved about. AB is not the easiest thing to give Boss and usually ends up on the ceiling or splattered across cushion covers.

Walked round town - Boss helped me get my medicine in Boots then we went for a cuppa in JL, which he's never done before, whilst he watched the people of Queensgate go and then down the escalators. Magic entertainment. Must remember to install one in my house for the zen-like calm it enduced.

Which was firmly shattered when we returned home when I got a visit from a sister and Boss decided that manic, hyper, idiot-fest was now on and I told him to cut it out or we'd go in the kitchen. Which we had to do. Which resulted in huge rage from Boss. He has never been one to throw tantrums, never. Masha'allah he is very placid, accommodating, easy to reason with or make laugh - very easy to humour masha'allah. But today was the day he threw a hairy cannipury with full irrational hysterics and two rivers of snot runnig down his face, a-la-Welland-Estate-kid mode. So that's what he did. For an hour. All offers of help refused "no I want to cry" was his more rational response.

Oh well. Snot it was then. Then she left *never to return again* and we bonded. He's ill, tired and angry that we have new behaviour management systems in place - you won't let adults talk then we'll talk elsewhere. Perfectly reasonable, but not if you're vying for alpha-1 male status or think you are the neighbourhood silverback. Tough. But we bonded anyway and I think he's still my friend :P

Nothing educational about today. Oooooh except he found numbers on the LeapPad book to press over and over again, and he got a game right!! Masha'allah. Which he instigated all by himself too! Then he noticed a number poster which has been in his face since he was two and asked what all the numbers were! Bonus. So - go Pooh Bear! Go LeapPad! Masha'allah.

Aspartame

JUST found out that Lemsip contains aspartame. Frigging wonderful news thankyou ever so much for putting that in really extra tiny print that I failed to notice on first seven inspections. Great. Wonderful. No need to panic. I'm only pregnant.

Taking Boss to Drs tomorrow

...insha'allah. I'm thinking I need ABs after all (please NO) but haven't made an appointment for MYSELF so will have to see how it goes over the weekend. Supposed to be freezing tomorrow so wrap up nice and warm all you AWorld-ers - and think of me and Boss *not* having an excellent time *sulk*.

Aw...

Article

Hm

Feeling a tad smacked in the face today - shell-shocked and dazed. Hoping that's a good sign, but more hopeful than assured. We have CABIN FEVER, cabin fever, cabin fever... and my darling husband has informed us (he has rheumatoid arthritis and is the human equivalent of a barometer - he's *never* wrong) that we have two more weeks of weather like this. Dunno if he means just cold, or damp, or snow or what. But sucky weather in general is on the cards. And we have CABIN FEVER. It's times like this I want to buckle and get a TV. If I could afford the protection raquet, er I mean "licencse fee" (yes, that's what I meant heh heh), I probably would just cave and get one... SIGH

Right new comment from that irritates me, still on the talking point thing from BBC yesterday:

What this young girl does not seem to realise is that she is being used as a pawn by fundamentalists. Many Muslim women escape from certain countries because they are oppressed and made to cover themselves up. They come to the west for freedom. Nothing in the Koran is written that forces a woman to cover herself. This is just another measure of men degrading women. This young girl has opened up a can of worms.
Annie, Switzerland/ex UK

I am trying to think of something to say that doesn't involve a swear word. Thankyou for trying to forcibly liberate us oh great white lady. But as your knowledge of sociology is as great as your knowledge of Qur'an (ie. you know zip) then I'll just say this: as a small observation, whenever men have gotten their way with women it has always resulted in the removal of women's clothing and pornographication of the woman's body. No man would compel a woman to wear more clothes; no man wants to see a woman walking like the Virgin Mary. No man wants to respect a woman's body. How odd it is and how far gone are we that a woman who wants to reclaim her purity and walk a dignified life is seen as degraded and yolked, whilst her Western female counterparts who dress to please men and by doing so they don't wear all too much, are seen as the liberated ones?!

How sad that people can see a covered woman as degrading. *Shakes head* If you want to see real degradation of women then go into WHSmiths and take a look at any magazine cover - that, IMHO, is degrading.

Mother's Day

O My Goodness its Mother's Day. Don't they ever get enough of them. Who the hell made it this early? Better get the kids to make some cards then eh. Hmmm. I could so do without this...

Rant cont'd

And while we are at it, why is the jilbab considered "extreme" and why do non-Muslims presume that they know everything about our religion and telling us that Shalwar-Kameez is OK but jilbab isn't - I'm not a pakistani so what would *I* wear in such circumstances then?! And jilbab isn't in the Qur'an? Really? Big surprise to all Arabic-understanding Muslims there then. Good job some white bloke from London set us straight on that point. Why is it that to have a society without "wedges" and mutual compromise Muslims have to give up their stuff but non-Muslims don't, and before anyone bangs on about "well in Rome" - please - goto any nation the British have either ruled over or live in and what you will NOT see is the British accommadating the local/native lifestyle in any shape or form. They live as English people but abroad. They do not try to fit in one bit. They incessantly bitch about the locals and think the English way of doing things is the right way.

I just hate hypocrisy. Damn it.

Today

Well, cough, splutter, cough, splutter, puke. Pretty much sums today up. I hate being ill; I know everybody does, but you know, I'm a real wuss about it all. Anything over a day I begin to panic about plagues of locust and lightening striking the house etc. etc. I can't see any other reason for illness except Divine wrath, so to have that for a whole week is pretty darned worrying. Yes, yes, I know illness is supposed to be a purification for us; very good, but I still hate it. Bleurgh!

Anyway, in the morning we did a new number sequence thingy. The old one was too big, and although this one is unfinished Boss is actually animated about these numbers and talks about them a lot. Need to annotate it. May do that tomorrow if Allah wills. (Funny how you can get into a habit of saying these things but when you are ill or stricken with bad news you suddenly remember to really mean it....hm...). Boss also becoming a little more number savy, or number aware due to his LeapPad book: Lots & Lots of Honey Pots - he's starting to realise that if he knew the numbers he could do the games.. hm... maybe try to help him out tomorrow and sit with him on that. But he is very territorial over his Pad; doesn't like a dope like me touching it much. His thing. His baby. His responsibility. I remember I used to be like this with my Mum when I was young - got very emotional if she touched a new exercise book and bent the edge of it or (heaven forbid!!) get a greasy thumb mark on it. So I fully understand his need for boundaries on that one... he let his Dad look at it, but as Hubby said: "I'm the lowest rung on the ladder - he thinks I need the education..." ... :P

Number sequence:

To finish off the paint session we laboured the "paint-a-car" obsession I must have triggered off the other day, and our continuing activities were spent turning all our paintable cars into "army vehicles". This one is dedicated to I1:

Right. News item. Don't want to get too political on this blog, as I don't like politics and I don't like to fall out, but what's THIS all about? I never get failed to be angered and confused at the absolute double-standards and hypocrisy in world politics and domestic politics alike. Why doesn't the Establishment just say, "Look, we hate Muslims actually and we'd rather you all either assimilated or eff off back to a country we can bomb you in, please", rather than live a lie of "freedom" only they actually mean "free to be as debauched as you like". And democracy isn't democracy as we believe it - it's simply tyranny of the masses over the minority with little toleration of those who are marginalised. You are free only if you are like us; great pluralism *that* is. Not.

I'm glad she has won the case; I am angry that she had to fight it in the first place, though. You can walk round like a two-bit ho and that's OK. You can commit adultery and have 8 women on the go and that's fine. But hold - you want to erm, cover yourself and erm, take care of your women by marrying them.... that's sick and oppressive and freaky.

PUH-LEASE.

What has it got to do with anyone else what I choose to wear?? THAT'S oppressive. I don't like what some people wear, but what's it got to do with me?? Their taste, their choice. Why is it all the rules as we know it are negated and turned on their head when it comes to Muslims? Look at France, Germany is going the same way, Denmark is just chomping at the bit. Austria, well, yeah OK you can understand....
What I choose to wear is none of anyone else's business, and the way people talked about Uniform you'd think it came down with the Ten Commandments or something - uniforms are constructed, and what can be constructed can also be *deconstructed*. I think people just need to be honest in these debates and instead of trying to rationalise a fear or a hatred just be honest and admit the truth. Muslims frighten them and they don't want them in their country or in their face. I can handle honesty, but all this assing about and wasting everybody's time and money trying to prove the emotionality of a non-rational debate is just silly.

And if we're honest, it's other Muslims that make it hard for Muslims in this country. There are so many Muslims in positions of power who are embarrassed about being a Muslim or who want to be respected that they will actually defend or bow out of these debates altogether rather than defend the Islamic position. They have nice houses though; sometimes two and a fourwheel drive. But they are spineless and pathetic. Pah!

And here is the Talking Point on the whole issue. We are free to kill our unborn children, YES! But to cover our bodies and have modesty... crikey, what are we - living in the middle ages or something??!

Hypocrites.

OK

... so now we are all coughing aswell. Please make du'a for us. Poor Boss :( I pray all your little snufflers are well too. Amin.

Counting

My dear darling husband came home extra early today as he remembered the scene that greeted him yesterday. I told him I'm OK today (relatively) as I'm tanked up on drugs. Sounds exotic that doesn't it. Now he has sent me upstairs to bed to rest for a while so of course I'll blog first. Well, a blog is as good as a rest...

Structure etc: I haven't been structured in that we have workbooks and stuff, but I do like structure - even if only 5 mins a day simply because I've noticed a difference in his attitude. Playtime is one thing but when it wanders down the path of innane activity and sheer boredom then structure isn't harmful. In fact, I can envisgage the time when it will be welcomed more and more. In fact, he came in from the garden last week and *asked* to do some work. And by work he means stickers and concentration time.

The Islamic thing where you play until seven doesn't mean they learn zip, but actually means you can't punish them if they don't learn. That doesn't mean they can't be educated - but just that it is their right not to if that doesn't float their boat. I have gotten a little more "up" on HE since Boss turned 3 (in Jan) simply because so far everything he has been presented with he has soaked up masha'allah so I simply feel it's fair to offer him more things to soak. He likes soaking and so long as it isn't "you vill learn zis or no food" type thing then I'm going to go down that route and cram as many things in his head as I can. I have learned from surprising experience that whatever goes in his head eventually comes out :) masha'allah.

Someone was telling me once (I think it was lmm) that the brain has three ways of processing information: 1) if it accepts it as true and useful then it stores it; 2) if it rejects it as false or unnecessary it loses it; 3) if it doesn't understand it it stores the information in another part of the brain to be processed later (usually in sleep, but sometimes at later stages of development). The Sufis (I do bang on about them alot don't I?) have used this information for aeons and that is why they use teaching stories rather than in-your-face information. Something you may out-right reject if you were conditioned in a certain way may be stored and thought about quite readily if encountered in a different format which the brain doesn't fully understand. Such as a non-rational story.

And while we are on the point, Robert Ornstein in his book Mind Field talks about this approach. Some other books by him can be found here. The man studied under Idries Shah, and although his books aren't about education, the workings of the brain and our pyschology make fascinating reading and help us to unpick ourselves.

Paracetamol: yes, I have come to the conclusion that the life of the mother takes precedent over the kids - after all, if I'm like I was yesterday then the whole house aches! Like I saw on a T-Shirt once in New York: If Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy!

Amen.

Number Work

Meant to be a garage of sorts...

Boss very much into stickers (what is it with kids and stickers??) so bought some number stickers from Stationary Box which we will "do" now insha'allah. Many tasks are simply untenable with Boss as he hates colouring in or doing anything fiddly that requires a bum on a seat for more than 3 seconds. Unless its play doh or LeapPad. Masha'allah the LeapPad was a huge success so far (I think). After a lukewarm start he tells me "I really like dat very much", and will plod away with it. Won't really listen to the story, even though I've showed him how, but is more interested in getting the book to say things over and over (and over) again. Has started to develop a Liverpudlian accent when saying "I'm Percy, the number 6 small engine", so glad I have no TV if this is how they soak things up!!

Anyway, only popped in to get batteries...

Lurgy update

I have stopped weeping but am dosed up on flu-strength Lemsip. Husband making me feel like Genghis Khan for inflicting such large doses of paracetamol and decongestant on the unborn. Wanna take over tomorrow then while I lie in bed and snivel all day?? No?? Shut up then.
Boss coughed through the night from 3am onwards and I felt so sorry for him that even though he didn't yell for me I went in anyway and tried to sort him out. He said, "But Mummy, I didn't ask for you", like I was room service or something. I said, "I know darling but I love you and want to make you better". So he snuffled down while I fussed. Then I think he got a little tired of the fussing and just went, "Yes, Mummy, I will do dat, I will keep warm..." trying not to sound irritated at my love... ho-hum.

Then I went back to bed and promptly started coughing. I'm beginning to wonder if it's not flu that I've got but sympathy lurgy?? Would be just my luck.

Right. Well today is one of those days I'm thinking about education again. I go through phases - I panic at either end of the spectrum - sometimes when we are too rigid then at others when all we are doing is assing about. He's too young for much structure but he does like designated work. 5 minutes a day is good so far.
Am trying to get him to recognise numerals but he just sees them as nouns, but at least he started to become aware of them in the environment and will excitedly call me if he sees a number we have covered, even if he doesn't know it (everything is "six" at the moment, or "khamsa"). He can count up to ten, but I'm not sure if he can count things or is just remembering the sequencing. He definitely can count up to 3 or 4 when he has that many things around him. I want to teach him up to 20 as he's started to do this: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 5, 6, 7, 8, khamsa!... so clearly wanting some new words there... caught him saying 12, 13, 14 the other day so I'll just plod away. Insha'allah.

Need to clean stuff which got heavily neglected yesterday but my head tells me I need to just bond with Boss today. Better go then!