Tuesday, January 31, 2006

So beautiful

A beautiful quotation of Al Ghazali found over at Dervish by Umm Yasmin. Big jazakillah to her for that.

We have a common instance of this referring to second causes what ought to be referred to the First Cause [God] in the case of so-called illness. For instance, if a man ceases to take any interest in worldly matters, conceives a distaste for common pleasures, and appears sunk in depression, the doctor will say, ‘This is a case of melancholy, and requires such and such a prescription.’ The physicist will say, ‘This is a dryness of the brain caused by hot weather and cannot be relieved till the air becomes moist.’ The astrologer will attribute it to some particular conjunction or opposition of planets. ‘Thus far their wisdom reaches,’ says the Qur’an. It does not occur to them that what has really happened is this: that the Almighty has a concern for the welfare of that man, and has therefore commanded His servants, the planets or the elements, to produce such a condition in him that he may turn away from the world to his Maker. The knowledge of this fact is a lustrous pearl from the ocean of inspirational knowledge, to which all other forms of knowledge are as islands in the sea.

The doctor, physicist, and astrologer are doubtless right each in his particular branch of knowledge, but they do not see that illness is, so to speak, a cord of love by which God draws to Himself the saints concerning whom He has said, ‘I was sick and ye visited Me not.’ Illness itself is one of those forms of experience by which man arrives at the knowledge of God, as He says by the mouth of His Prophet, ‘Sicknesses themselves are My servants, and are attached to My chosen.’ (Al-Ghazali, The Alchemy of Happiness)

And jzk to everyone who phoned, emailed and left food for me today. I have such wonderful sisters it makes me cry. I love you all. I am really blessed to have such great people as friends.

I'm OK now. No need to worry. I'm not going to hunt you down and kill you.

Monday, January 30, 2006

Somedays its just not worth chewing through the leather straps...

... in monumental style I had a mood swing last night. Warning bells started ringing. 'Do you THINK I could be post natal, DH??'... and he looked at me You didn't KNOW that??.

Why he suddenly expected me to start knowing stuff after knowing me as long as he has ...

It was bad. Not weepy but bad. Couldn't move my arms and just really really off-centre. I made a resolution to not let it affect the way I dealt with Boss and woke up really chirpy. OK well not *REALLY* but boy it was as good as it gets in this house.
By the time we'd made it down the stairs we'd already almost killed each other and I was convinced this would be the day I packed my bags. And if I could have found any I would. And if I could have found any clothes to pack in them in my Ben Nevis size ironing pile I would.

But I didn't. Instead I went into town to get provisions since we have nothing in the house. It was a big mistake. I bitched all round town. I tongue-lashed a dickhead who made the comment about my baby "Oh look a pakistani baby with blue eyes" and you know it isn't a good idea to take me on anyway, but put me on post natal alert with attitude on an over-cast day and you and me are going to have words. So almost started a fight outside John Lewis which was only averted by an apology *which really p*ssed me off as I really wanted to take him down BAD*. F*ckwit.

Then Boss touched stuff on the shelves, and I lost the will to live and I just stropped round town only stopping to ask myself why I was bothering. We looked at a fire engine. I looked for wrinkle cream because Omigod I am an old lady with grey hair and a road map for a face. My children are killing from the brain outwards. They are literally sucking my sap and leaving the withered shell. I looked for mascara and girly stuff like that. But that depressed me too - I don't need make-up - I need grouting. I look like a carthorse in a bin liner and I'm fat. What's a bit of slap going to do. And Boss just kept whining COME OOOOOOOOOOOON one too many times and I almost picked him up by his lapel and pinned him against a wall. I slapped his bum (OK it wasn't a slap it was a tap ) for touching the pram (because it nearly fell over as it was so overloaded. No not his fault and I *am* sorry. But at the time I *did* have the urge to pound both my fists into the pavement in irrational rage ) and I just wanted to ram my goddamn fist down his f*cking throat pretty much all morning for, you know, talking. I usually love to hear his banter- it makes me smile and glow from inside to listen to his (endless) chatter but today it was just fingernails down a chalkboard and all I could think was "Omigod I have to stop this crap from leaving his mouth. I have to stop this endless noise. I must buy duct tape or I am going to rip his f*cking tongue out".

I mentioned I had a mood swing?

So we get home and my monitor has an embolism and now I've got this sh*thole monitor that's got a ten inch screen. I can't see anything and have to scroll everywhere. And now my eyes hurt. The only "up" of my net search was reading Hannah's blog which made me LOL at the thought of other peoples' children being as annoying as mine. And why *do* children eat pea-bugs and not food?? You know, if I smeared yogurt on the toilet seat I am sure he would be chuckling with delight at how clever he was at finding such a moumental stock of food at such a convenient height. But put it on a spoon and have hygienic wipes to hand - what am I - a sadist????

Then my children start sneezing and crying and sneezing and wailing and sneezing and wailing and crying and it is at this particular point I consider ramming a screwdriver through my temple to end the pain. But luckily it is zuhr and I make wudu instead. And I pray whilst snot runs down noses and everyone wails. I am thinking of moving to the local council estate so we can fit in withour surroundings better. I pitch in and scream at the top of my lungs but it doesn't make them stop (you know "Oh dear we've pushed Mum too far, let's stop" No. They just look *really* frightened and scream louder. Great). Then my ears start bleeding and I look for something with which I can impale my brain on. Ok not really. But the DH comes down stairs and says his throat hurts he has fever and is really achey. *Great I'm really looking forward to catching THIS one*, so I figure everyone is genuinely hurting and not out to get me.

So I trundle out the Nurofen and pour it down my family's throat like a Mommy Bird handing out the worms. They whine and wail and gnash gums.

Dh has to goto Milk Clinic to pick up milk. I specifically ask him for Cow and Gate because the Fuhrer is off Farleys. And no wonder. It makes me gag. It tastes like fish crap. Which is probably what it is. And he comes back with.... Farleys!! Wahey - life gets better and better. So I don't kill him instantly because I want an explanation and want to think about what torture to administer and how I plan to hurt him BAD. When he tells me that the old fart who doles out the milk at the Lawn Clinic says he can't have Cow and Gate and hey, why are you getting your coat on you can't go there and start a fight... what the... stop biting me.... listen, she's just doing her job and... do you want me to go back... I'm not taking you you'll kill her. What do you mean "and?". So I decided to try and get her fired instead and am writing a letter to someone who can do that. I'm guessing The Queen is a safe bet. It's only fair - she's screws my day up and I'll screw her life up. It's just milk, I hear you cry. Oh don't get me started. It may be just milk to YOU but have you seen your 7 month old dry heave when he sees the bottle?? He hates this brand. And that's not the point, this is the THIRD time that bitch has done this. I have to take her down.

Then, bliss. The kids stop crying. I regain consciousness. I start loving and caring and cuddling my kids and worry about their welfare. I am normal. My brain isn't broken and perhaps my rash decision to rush to the GPs and demand an instant injection of "something" straight into my jugular wasn't the best idea I've ever had.

Tomorrow, as they say, is another day. I just don't want to start fearing them.

I'm still going to get that bitch fired though.

Sunday, January 29, 2006


I just had a rather odd memory and thought I'd share.

You know that hymn "Dance dance wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the Dance, said He"? Well we used to sing that a LOT at school. In fact it was at school that I learned that the word "Jesus" wasn't a swear word and that he was a bloke who did something good. Bit fuzzy on the detail. I think the school assumed we knew the story and parents assumed I knew the story and parents didn't care or believe and the school were just getting through their assemblies the only way they knew how. So I am four years old, plonked in a room full of kids I don't know and I don't understand why I am there or when I can just go home and run around the estate with my brother with the sun shining, and I'm learning about a bloke called Jesus. I knew he had a beard and wore long white robes. I knew he wore sandals. But I never knew he danced around settees. Which is what I thought the song said. And I used to sing my little heart out imagining a toga-clad hippy run around a settee with his twelve mates pretty much like we used to play musical chairs.

No body ever told me I was wrong.


Saturday, January 28, 2006

Castles and Knights

and things like that. Don't know if its very Waldorf but we seem to be having a Knights and Castles theme here triggered by Nasira's castle project. After finding a good book on castles Boss was interested, my interest was piqued and all of a sudden I'm finding knights and castles every-goddam-where. Bought him some Papo knights for Eid and safe to say since we have learned that Knights killed people for a living and didn't get told off for it, they are our heroes. Ties in nicely with fairy-tale and lots of mythology too. Want some good King Arthur stories for kids in hard-copy soon.

Anyway. Jousting. We like that too. You get to hurt people in a legitimate manner. If you too have a child into all things medieval then this is what we like so far:

We like playing the Joust game
Knebworth is having a jousting tournament on 16th and 17th April click here
Whilst Blenheim Palace are staging another Jousting Tournament by "The Knights of Royal England" click here
Want to visit THIS too.

Does anyone know if Castle Rising "does stuff"?

Can't think

my brain is fuzzy and well, it's doing my head in! Just to give you a small example of how hard getting myself understood is these days I'll give you a small snippet of things I have said or written which had to be thought about slowly and re-written and said. (Then thought about and re-written and said again).

Example 1:

They big a dig hole. Go near it fall in. big is very hard so don't spike yourself.

Should read:

They dug a big hole. Don't go near it you might fall in. The hole is very big so don't hurt yourself.

Example 2:

Prop your hands on the propeller.

Should read:

Wipe your hands on the towel.

Example 3:

Doctors. Go to thing. Letter. Go to big doctor in the thing. Top doctor.

gives up at this point after trying to tell someone this:

I went to my doctor and they gave me a referral to see a specialist at the hospital.

That was just too many new and unusual words for me to bother with. Fortunately I was talking to somebody else who had suffered from labyrinthitis and they understood perfectly what I was saying. It was possibly the best conversation I had had in a long time - actually being understood without having to burst too many blood vessels in the process.

Yes it is funny if you don't have to live my life.

On top of that (just wrote 'In yop of this') I have problems with typos now which I didn't before, and grammar is really really difficult for me sometimes. Negatives just get left out of the sentence (if and when I actually form one) and I sometimes mean the exact opposite of what I said. Word order means absolutely nothing to me - it's like being Russian. This is actually infuriating. I have given up trying to make myself understood properly and apologising to people by not explaining myself properly. I need a T-Shirt with somekind of warning on it: This brunette is really a deep blonde or warning! everything I say is not what it seems! or do the opposite of what I say if you want to live

In light of this new and unusual brain my friend has sent me a poem which I'd like to share. She cares deeply, you see. It is actually about senility (so I'll send it back sometime) but applies to pregnant women, women with newborns, and people with labyrinthitis too. Enjoy:

Dear Friend:

Just a line to say I'm living,
That I'm not among the dead,
Though I'm getting more forgetful
And mixed up in my head.

I've got used to my arthritis,
To my dentures I'm resigned,
I can manage my bi-focals
But, ye gads, I miss my mind.

Sometimes I can't remember
When I'm standing by the stair,
If I should go up for something
Or I've just come down from there.

And before the fridge so often
My mind is filled with doubt;
Now, did I just put something in
Or come to take it out?

If it's not my turn to write, dear,
I hope you won't get sore,
I may think that I have written
And don't want to be a bore.

As I stood before the post box
My face, it sure went red -
Instead of posting this to you
I opened it instead.

Friday, January 27, 2006



Quote of the Day

Conversations can be quite odd in this house anyway, but I think we have firmly established that Boss is car crazy. His point of reference is vehicles. So when you are explaining anything it has to be in terms of cars. So a Wildebeest's hooves are like it's tyres, and it's breathe is like it's exhaust pipe. Yes really.

Anyway latest bizarro-world conversation has run like this:

Boss: Is that my Car Door seed?

Me: What?

Boss: *pointing* is that my Car Door seed?

Me: What??

Boss: *raising voice as though I were deaf and/or stupid* Is. That. My. Car. Door. Seed?

Me: What are you *talking* about??

Boss: *agitated* My Car Door!

Me: What Car Door?????

Boss: *Pointing* Dat one

Me: *Looks, but sees nothing* What car door??????

Boss: *Agitated and frustrated* DAT ONE ... THERE... *points to something I can't see* THERE THERE THERE MY CAR DOOR SEED!!!!

Me: *Starts to panic thinking Boss is quite clearly nuts and hallucinating* Which car door. Show it to me. Show Mummy.

Boss: *beside himself with frustration* THERE!!!!!!

Me: ..........*looks and can't see anything and starts racking brain for helpline numbers and/or sedative suppliers* .... .... ... ... I can't see a car door, I'm sorry.


Me: *looks and almost smacks the back of my son's head for wasting my time* M, that's an AVOCADO seed.

Pillock. Where he got this Yorkshire accent (with Swedish intonations to boot!) I'll never know.... hmmmmmm


I am really sorry that Boss took chunks out of your lad today. I think he sees it as a sport. :S He is also a control freak and will determine when/how/where anybody should play with anything. I am sure this will pass in a few years. Maybe twenty-one. *shrugs*

Just for you: all the things we did with our stacker today:


We stacked. Then it fell on me. It hurt. Yes, Boss laughed pretty much just like you're doing right now

Castle tunnel garage thing

Invented a game - who could rock the arch so the rolling pin didn't roll off. Harder than it sounds. Don't know who won

Another skill game - you rock the top one

One for Jaws

A river

The sea *shrugs*

A cradle.... aahhh...

A telephone

A maze garage

The end. A very tired toy

We also used in a lot of role play. It was a sword (ouch) and an archer's bow and a helmet and something else. Lots of use out of it. Well worth it. Go on. Buy one!! ;-)

Wisdom from Maulana Jalaluddin Rumi

Wisdom from Maulana Jalaluddin Rumi
13th Century Mystic and Philosopher (translated by Dr. M. Tabarra)

“Since it is through darkness that you recognise light,

so everything logically points to its opposite.

Misery and grief were created, so that

happiness and joy are appreciated as a contrast.

Thus every hidden thing is revealed through its opposite,

since God has no opposites, He remains hidden!”

PND comment

Khadijah, putting this in a post so I can put it in the sidebar i.a.

subhan'Allah, it is hard to read even.

i *need* ! to point out that breastfeeding has actually been shown to reduce pnd in those susceptible to it due to the hormones that are produced when feeding. they actually counter the withdrawal effect of the pregnancy hormones, and bonding with the baby when there are no feelings can be helped by nourishing the child oneself. also, drugs etc *can* be taken at the same time as b'feeding.

there is a high indication that low levels of omega 3's and 6's is a *major* problem with depression, and since these are sapped from us during pregnancy and b'feeding and today's diet is poor in the balance of these anyway, a supplement is really important (helps with brain dvlpmnt in baby etc too, and baby will get benefit through b'milk if b'feeding, otherwise can be supplemented themselves.

also, bipolar disorder sometimes manifests after birth, and can be misdiagnosed as pnd. just another one to be aware of!

I think counselling is a major way to deal with pnd too, since women who have it once are more likely to suffer again, (not a bonus.lol) and so it is useful to visit/revisit some of the psychological scarring.

I LOVE HOMEOPATHY, actually I LOVE ALLAH and that He swt, has put such deep and gentle healing in sugar pills. *smile*
Alhamdulilla hirrabbil 'alamin.
Yes, Merry, I know what you say *wink*!

I also think there should be more info on PPsychosis.

Can you make this a big link at the side or have you done it already? it is a really good summary masha'Allah.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Who is this?

Click to find out:


The "Walker"

or "war chariot" as it also known here, is becoming a liability. I foresee much squabbling over boundaries and personal space in the not-too-distant-future. Boss is a big boy who wants to do things which little baby seven month olds just cannot do. Like, well, like just about everything you care to think of. Plus seven month olds just don't understand that pulling hair, standing on heads, kicking the face and riving eyeballs out of their sockets is just not on. This, I am sure, he will learn very very quickly because Boss is just about having enough of it. As he is of having his head stood on and rammed against The Walker. He has had enough of being followed like a shadow. He is getting tetchy about being bugged. If he knew the words I am sure I would hear "Stop STALKING ME" leave his lips almost every minute of every day.

But what to do. Jaws adores him. His face lights up every time he sees his brother. Where Boss is, is where the action is and that's where his little legs take him. Just like a magnet. Or a moth to a flame... hm...

It all came to a head yesterday when Boss started screaming GO AWAY GO AWAY DON'T DO THAT and I found almost everything Boss was doing on the floor, or mid-air as Jaws flung it in gay abandon on one of his search and destroy missions. So I taught Boss a new trick - simply put a large cushion in front of wherever you don't want your brother to go - he's a darlek, remember?

Happy Boss.

But the howls that came out of Jaws when I was doing the washing up were unbearable. It made my ears bleed. So being the caring mother you all know I am I politely yelled, "CAN IT DARLEK BOY - I'M LOSING THE WILL TO LIVE". But he still screamed and it made my brain rattle so I *had* to go and invigilate again and found poor Jaws cornered by the door surrounded by a wall of two foot cushions and beanbags. He was beside himself with horror and frustration at this curbing of his Right to Roam.

So we tried the brakes. We wheeled Jaws really near the table - near enough to be near his beloved, but far enough away so he couldn't eat anything - and we put the stoppers on.

Have any of you seen the "World's Strongest Man" competition? They have a section in it where the competitor has to pull an articulated lorry or tanker or tank or aeroplane 100 metres over a white line using nothing but a rope and their bare hands. They really struggle and contort their face into one of sheer determination and pain.

Well, funnily enough this is exactly the same face a seven month old makes when you put the brakes on his walker. Man, he is determined. And through this unrelenting determination a terrible, terrible thing happened. It may have far reaching implications on inter-brother relations. We heard a 'crack' then we saw a red piece of plastic almost embed itself in the ceiling and all of a sudden Jaws was spinning around and around like an Irish dancer on amphetamines. He was most peturbed and so were we. All we could see was flashes of his little face with an "argh help me" expression as he hurtled past going in ever faster circles. One stopper has been obliterated and now we have a Morris Dancer in our midst. It was quite cute for a while. Even Boss smiled and went "ah bless him" as he giggled in inhumane delight at the exasperation of a forlorn and desperate hapless beast flailing in front of us...

It still isn't enough to stop him getting to what he wants to get to as he has now included the calculations of the encircling tangent into his equations of how to reach what he wants to trash, but now instead of trashing one thing he takes the entire room down with him.

I think from now on we should just sit on the sofa and watch the show. Maybe I could get him little tap shoes and cute outfits...

Anybody suggest ways of easing these in-yer-face moments ... I'm kidding myself it will get easier as they get older. Stop laughing.

Post Natal Depression


I had a dream

and it wasn't a good one like Martin Luther King's either. It wasn't a nightmare but it was informative. I had the same kind of dream the day before 9/11 and so did my sister. I dreamt of hijackers and the tower falling etc. But this time I dreamed that the Tower Bridge of London was blown up. It was quite detailed. Hope it isn't a true dream.

Anyway, I keep forgetting to tell EVERYONE I know so I'll post it here instead: you know the parking area behind my house? Well just don't use it after maghrib. DH caught a man hiding in the bushes there a couple days ago - about 5pm and he jumped out on our neighbour's wife. She screamed and DH shouted and scared the fella off (said he was built like a body builder and then pretended he was asking for directions). But he was hiding with intent and it's obviously not men he wants to mess with. It wasn't late either. So just don't park your cars there and think it will be OK to nip in and see your friends. Park somewhere else if you can in a more open space.

Just so you know.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006


My boy had his jabs today. I wasn't looking forward to it as I think I have oversold the "Oh Jaws is really hurting as he has just had his jabs" thing for a few months and so Boss was a bit adamant he wasn't going.

But we went. He had role-played Doctors in the morning with his Papo knights and ostheimer figures. He gave them all prescriptions and medicine and an injection that just felt like a scratch. I was hoping it would have him mentally prepared.

So we sat in the waiting room. Well, I say we sat. I sat, he walked in circles for half an hour talking the hind legs off a donkey as we heard each and every child be taken to the torture chamber to have their jabs administered, and I cringed with every howl. It was like someone was flaying pigs alive at an abbattoirs. I kept looking at Boss - yes, he'd noticed. Then it was our turn. He had the usual "which school are you going to" question, and he did me proud by grunting "Uh?". He sat on my knee. The nurse told me to hold his hand tight. I clenched my butt and waited for the fall out.

Not a dicky bird. No yelp. No "ouch". No tears. No whimper. Nothing. He just looked down at his arm and then said, "thankyou". My heart bled. Itold him how brave he had been and what a big boy he was and how all the other children had cried, and do you know what he said?

"I want you to tell ALL the aunties I didn't cry and was a brave boy. TELL THEM NOW".

So I have. Pat him on the head when you see him he's very proud of his stoicism.

The jab made him act like a nutter all afternoon though. Hmmmmmm.....

Tuesday, January 24, 2006




As regards the Yahoo group I don't think I made it clear enough. I am very dizzy so will try to re-type the introduction at some point if/when I get my brain back.

The idea is that we get as many sisters as possible on and for those with no internet access we act as their proxy. Whenever somebody needs something a little red flag can go up, so to speak and we have a way of letting each other know that there is someone who needs help and we make it our business to make sure they get it. A bit like when one of us has sprogged - those who needed it got the cooking/whatever. Except this would work throughout the year at all times for all sisters for whatever reason. It is a network of as many sisters as we can get. I have other ideas to link into this but it would need a network of sisters anyway, so I will try to work on that.

Regarding setting an Islamic HE group up - I don't know if that will ever happen. I'm in too much pain to organise anything myself. If I thought it was a go-er I would try . *shrugs* I need something for my kids.

Saturday, January 21, 2006


what *is* it with Dinosaurs??? Just when I thought I was getting away with it - bam! - he turns 4 and all of a sudden his predisposed "dino-gene" kicks in and now we are obsessed with them. I don't KNOW the names of all the dino-species - I never paid attention to it ever since anything with a name over nine letters long simply makes me lose interest... and now I have a child who wants to know every. Single. One. Man, it's enough to give me a migraine. Which it did. I figure if I just mumble something and add "-saurus" at the end I'm doing OK...

Anybody read This or This or This. Any comments. Which is the better?

Friday, January 20, 2006

It does not bode well....

Me: M, sit down when you are eating. Muslims do not stand when we eat.

Boss: *ignores me*

Me: M, sit down. Muhammad (Saw) ordered Muslims to sit when they eat.

Boss: *ignores me*

Me: Darling, there is no barakah in your food when you stand and eat.

Boss: *ignores me*

Me: The jinn are eating with you!!

Boss: *sideways glance but ignores me*

Me: OK you know what, it's also a choking hazard so could you just sit down. Now. I am not joking. Do it. Do it now.

Boss: *turns to me with a mouthful of food and says* I am not eating

Me: Really?

Boss: Yes.

Me: REALLY? You usually have food in your mouth when you are not eating?

Boss: I am not eating. I am just holding the food in my gob.


Thursday, January 19, 2006


I saw an Ostheimer Ark on ebay for £30.... £30!!!! I didn't get it even though it would have saved me £170 ... but worth ebaying if you want more stuff. Just have to learn German :)

And jzk for the offer re: the car, but it's OK. Very generous of you anyway. I'd feel awful if I wrapped it round a tree so I'll pass.

Have no phone, so please email me sometime :|

I really miss my brain

Damn this dizziness. Illness sucks. Du'a and vibes this way please.

What was I going to blog. Oh wait, I can't remember - I have no brain and all the intellectual finesse of a jelly-fish. Wibble. *SIGH*

Oh yeah - any ideas of an Islamic get-together on a weekly-fortnightly basis for some group work and/or general sing-song play-time du'a-Islamic input??

Does anybody have the title of a good Qur'an for children? Perhaps an illustrated one. It would have to be in English.

Also, anybody suggest a beautifully illustrated Arabian Nights in hard copy, again in English for kids?

Finally for all of you using Holland & Barratt's Echinacea drops - they contain alcohol, as do most other brands which are "drops" and not tablets. They draw the stuff out with the alcohol and then remove most of it, but even with the best methods a residue of alcohol is present, and unless the droppers have "alcohol free" on them (which they don't) then assume they do contain it. The tablets are made with gelatin and another brand contains phenylalanine/Aspartame. The only Echinacea I found there was a syrup which seems to be OK.

OK. I need to brain-dump some things in the side-bar.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006


again. Would appreciate any du'a you care to throw this way. Jazakallah.

Plus my phone isn't working. Anyone expecting a phonecall then sorry, and anyone wanting to get in touch it will have to be email.

Some piccies:



A beautiful mess

And another

Been busy cooking


He really loves building with these blocks

His rainbow (magic) castle in the clouds

Well used. Highly recommend

Somebody sent me this:

If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it.
If He had a wallet, your photo would be in it.

He sends you flowers every spring.

He sends you a sunrise every morning. Face it, friend - He is crazy about you!

God didn't promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow,sun without rain, but He did promise strength for the day, comfort for the tears, and light for the way.


Du'a please.

Monday, January 16, 2006



Article 2


Saturday, January 14, 2006


And I didn't do anything. I think just sitting and watching *that* many zany kids has all the neurons in my brain firing.... doesn't help when Boss everafter known as Thug makes virtually every single girl in the room cry. Oh well. Tempted not to take him anywhere again, but you know - the big silly grin on his face meant he really loved the Eid party and seeing all the other kids. I can't help it that he thinks other people are mere props in his play world to be pushed and sat on and, if you are aunty Zainab, to bite.

Jazakillah to the organisers. I take my hijab off to you. I couldn't have done it.

Maryam I had meant to return your Jolly Phonics DVD - sorry. I keep meaning to get DH to post it through your door, but organisation AND follow-through isn't really big in this house, so I dunno when you'll get it back. Really sorry, please forgive me....

A couple of people asked when I got my Eid stuff so here goes:

Enamel pans from ELC
Kitchen Units from Wooden Choice
Play Food again, Wooden Choice. Play food is wooden, not as big as the Myriad and other items, but small enough to get into the pans and much, much cheaper.

OK I am soooooo tired. Must try to remember what it is I wanted to remember to do. Eat chocolate, I think....

Ooh, and Happy Birthday Bella!! Big girl now :)

Friday, January 13, 2006

More about Me

1. I was made in Hong Kong. That's why I'm so cheap.

2. I have a lousy sense of humour which gets me into trouble with people who suffer from IBS

3. No offence

4. I spent my childhood being carted round the world due to my Dad's job in the Army. I hated this. We were always posted in an army camp which was usually ten miles away from civilisation. Friends were always being posted hither and thither and I have no lasting childhood friends. We never went anywhere or did anything and my only memories of my parents were of my mother being depressed (due to intense home-sickness and lonliness) and my father thinking we were part of his regiment who he could bark orders at. Am I the only person in the universe who *wanted* my parents to divorce?

5. I cannot remember much of my childhood. Some psycho-babblers might think I'm repressing stuff, but actually it's because we did nothing. I'm saving brain space by deleting that white noise of my childhood. Memory starts from 21 onwards.

6. I have no desire to leave UK and "see" the world. Worked around USA and decided to come back as I just love England.

7. But not Spalding

8. My favourite colour is green.

9. I don't eat well.

10. My favourite pass-time *used* to be sleep.

11. Isn't that ironic.

12. The funniest word I remember from my education is "wanderweg".

13. I believe that after I learned to read and write all my "educators" may have well been shot. I remember nothing of value from my "education".

14. I have two siblings. One of each.

15. When I was four years old I used to pretend I was adopted and one day my real parents were going to come and get me. I think it was one of the ladies out of Charlies Angels. Or CHiPs. Or ABBA. I wasn't too bothered so long as she wore lip-gloss.

16. I hate people who say "42" when I ask them "what is the meaning of life - why were we created". It used to be funny. Now it isn't. Move on, people. Invent your own funny lines.

17. I can wiggles my ears. One at a time. Whilst raising one eyebrow at a time. I could do it to music and carve a career for myself in a freak show. I am a freak.

18. I don't like music.

19. I don't own a TV

20. OK get over it.

21. With me, what you see is what you get

22. You don't get much.

The clitter clatter of tiny little feet

Today there is a new arrival in our house. Something small, and new, and very much wanted and anticipated... Well, by *me* anyway. *Sshh* don't speak so loudly, you'll wake them.

Want to take a peek?? Scroll down...

It's our new Ostheimer family. Straight from Germany! ... I love ebay.

So, Boss took one look at them and asked where the cars were. But later on we did role play "going to the doctors for jabs", and other stuff. He has this primal urge to bite their heads for some odd reason known only to him and Allah. *shrugs* Jaws LOVES them. He uses them as lolly pops at the moments. Keeps taking them out of his gob, giving a satisfying gurgle, then shoves them back in again. I wonder what flavour they are?

Hm. DH is singularly unimpressed. Not even when I told him how much I saved. Not even when I told him that I got my brother to pay for it all as an Eid gift. *shrugs* men.

On an altogether different note, Jaws seems to be keen on upping the ante in the "lets see if we can give Mother brain damage" stakes especially through sleep deprivation, because OMIGOD he just did. Not. Sleep. Until three a.m. this morning and was up at Seven. O. Clock.

No let me repeat that so you can do the maths: he just did. Not. Sleep. Until three a.m. this morning and was up at Seven. O. Clock.

Yes, that's right - if sleep were a fruit it would a sucky lemon right now. Quit laughing or I'm making du'a for a kid for you this very minute.

And he didn't cry. He didn't holler. He didn't wail and scream and gnash his gums. Oh no - he did something *far* more blood curdling.... he gurgled, and giggled and blew raspberries until it became undeniably freaking obvious that this kid just isn't TIRED. And OMIGOD I *AM*. Soooooooooooo.... what will tonight bring Debbie nervoulsy asks. Boss walked downstairs today and announced Jaws is getting teeth now. *SHRIEK*

Well.... *bites nails* we will have to see how this all workds out. Boss was not that bad teething masha'allah - doped him on Nurofen and coated his mouth with teething gel and he slept. What happens if it doesn't work with the Fuhrer?????

Ooh 'eck.

If anyone sees me tomorrow with my clothes on back-to-front and inside-out, hold Jaws for me and let me catch some kip?

Thursday, January 12, 2006

More days like these min fadlak!

Um where to start. We had. Eid Mubarak - hope everyone had a blessed Eid. Amin. Alhamdulillah we woke, offerd Eid salah whilst DH was at the masjid. Boys had brekkie, which in this house consists (on Eid morning and hereon after til Eid ends) of Weetabix followed by crisps and Twix - neither of which he gets the year round. So he really looks forward to it. But he said halfway through the crisps... "You know... what I *really* like MORE than crisps??" ... Me: "MORE than crisps??? What???" .... *sideways glance with silly grin*: "Presents" *silly grin continues unabated.

OK, so this year I am a bit nervous of the annual offering of presents seeing as I have done a U-Turn on toys etc etc. So I was really dreading him opening the stuff and going: "Okay, this crap is really, really cute an' all - but where's my REAL presents", because *hold breathe* I bought no vehicles. *SHRIEK!*

So we went through to the living room and bless him he was chuffed masha'allah. He opened half and then said... "I think the cars are in *those* boxes".... I said: "er, WHAT cars??" and it was obvious he was expecting something with wheels. Oh dear.

Anyway, after opening everything something rather wonderful happened. He played. He actually *played* like I have never seen him play before. We were *playing* together and inventing stories and using our brains and boy does it tire you out to play properly. I blame myself. I have been getting him the wrong toys for such a long time I didn't realise how far I'd stunted him. *Hangs head*

Jaws "gave him" a Subaru as "his" gift and Boss was just in total awe of his brother (mission accomplished Mummy *pats own head*) and in absolute gratitude of his *one* car. Only one and much more appreciated than three or four or five or seventeen.

So today we played again. It wasn't a one off. I had set the scene last night - usually I just let him get what he wants out to play with, but having a re-think on how we do things meant that one of the things you do is set a scene - you present somethings for them to play with so that it acts as a springboard to their own input. So I made a kinda castle. and had some figures out in various positions. He was genuinely awed when he came in the living room this morning and said with excitement, "Oh! Look! Someone has made this look REALLY nice!" and bounded over to play with it. It consisted of an all-day play - from 9am to 6pm and only stopping at my insistence for tidying up. That never happens here - playtime used to last five minutes, maximum! Play quickly escalated into how many people he could kill with his sword *shrugs ... must work on innate violent tendencies*. And he made cups of tea. And he dressed up as a policeman. And then we played "tig" (a lot harder than you think in a teeny living room!) Read lots of books. And then he cooked something whilst I made a real cup of tea and he really taking an interest in it all of a sudden - asking to stir the tea and help in the kitchen. Then we played castle again. And again. Made a cuppa. And then again.

It is like I have a different child. No, perhaps not that. A different relationship based on play which has strengthened something which has been hanging by a thread for far too long. Alhamdulillah. He said something today about something I said two years ago (yes, masha'allah he has a *very* good memory) and it had obviously been bothering him, something I regretted saying and wanted to make amends over but didn't know how, and today, through play, it was like a kind of healing. Man, I should write a book - this kind of below-the-navel folk-psycho-babble would sell really well in the States.... but I'm just really happy I made the change with the toys and the way of doing things here. For us it has really worked and made a huge difference in our relationships. Alhamdulillah. Such a lot of sadness that I got it wrong for such a long time and happiness that this was opened up to me. We are so blinded we can't see our own defects. Alhamdulillah for guidance as we are too blind to see anything - even the most obvious things - unless it is Willed.

Deaf, dumb and blind.... hm...

OK Piccies:

The Lights

The Pressies

The Pressie Kitchen

The Pressie Openers

The Castle wot I made

Defending the realm

On top of the stable ... 'come and have a go if you think you're hard enough...'

"Why doesn't the Queen fight Mum?"....'er... Her dress won't go over the horse....hmmm'

Side entrance

Hidden entrance/tunnel in the mysterious forest

Engrossed in play

The washing machine is a-washing and the cooker is a-cooking

Very hot. Don't touch.

Dinner is served...

I cooked this myself...

Hope you all had a great day.

Monday, January 09, 2006

You know you're kid is obsessed with vehicles when:

he has asked you for something in an abrupt manner and you say "P... P... P..." in an attempt to nudge him into remembering to say 'please' and his face lights up and with an unbounded enthusiasm he yells: "PETROL!!!"

I have no idea how it got this bad.

Just move it along people - nothing to see here


Give them a prize for stating the freaking obvious


Sunday, January 08, 2006


So we've established just living is enough to kill us, does anyone *out there* have a wooden teething ring (or two) for Jaws to chomp on. I can't afford a new one.

Plus - Jax and Merry - who is getting the neurosmith thingy - Jax was in first but did you only want cartridges? I have none? Does that mean Merry has the music box or what?

Come on, people - keep up.

House of horrors

Sperm counts are falling and cancer levels are rising. Something is very wrong somewhere, but what? The answer, says Hilary Freeman, may be uncomfortably close to home ...

Tuesday January 13, 2004
The Guardian

Yesterday, millions of Britons woke up to the news that our daily personal hygiene routines could be making us ill. A study at the University of Reading linked chemicals called parabens in underarm deodorants with a possible breast-cancer risk, after discovering traces of parabens - preservatives thought to mimic oestrogens - in human breast tumour samples.

This finding comes just a week after scientists revealed that men's sperm counts have fallen by almost a third since 1989. Again, exposure to hormone-disrupting chemicals - including parabens - is thought to have played a large part.

Buying organic and filtering your water may make you feel more secure, but it does little to protect you or your family from environmental toxins. Forget traffic pollution: the average Briton's home is almost certainly swimming in a cocktail of chemicals, many of which have been linked to allergies, cancers and infertility. These chemicals line your walls, carpets and flooring. They emanate from curtains, PCs, toiletries, even children's toys. And, while the products that you rely upon to keep your home clean do wipe out bacteria and viruses, they also spread toxic chemicals across every surface.

Little by little, these toxins are seeping through your skin and lungs and into your bloodstream, building up in your tissues and organs like a time bomb. No one is sure what effect they might have on your health in years to come. It is thought, for instance, that some chemicals have the ability to bio-accumulate (an increase in concentration in a biological organism over time so it reaches levels far higher than in the environment). The result is that, unaware and without giving consent, we are all acting as guinea pigs in a giant chemistry experiment.

"We're just as likely to be exposed to pollution indoors as outdoors," says Helen Lynn, health coordinator for the campaign group the Women's Environmental Network (WEN). "Ironically, it is trying to keep our homes and ourselves ultra-clean and sweet-smelling that is probably increasing our exposure to risky chemicals. Some of the chemicals we use in the home end up living with us in the dust, or indeed in our own body tissue. For example, the comparatively new antibacterial agent, triclosan, has been detected in breast milk."

Last year, the environmental charity Greenpeace published a report revealing that "gender bending" and other chemicals that can damage reproductive organs, interfere with growth and development and damage the immune system have been found in babies in the womb. At the same time, Greenpeace released the results of independent tests on a sample of consumer products including children's pyjamas, toys and baby feeding bottles. Alarmingly, the same hazardous chemicals were found in these items. For example, Disney-branded pyjamas contained phthalates, which are banned from teething toys under emergency legislation because they can cause liver, kidney and testicular damage.

Many of the chemicals found in household goods have been used for decades without having undergone any safety checks. "When a drugs company manufactures a new drug they must show that it has been through stringent tests demonstrating its safety before it is allowed on to the market," says Mark Strutt, chemicals campaigner for Greenpeace. "But chemical compounds are not subject to the same rigorous testing. Chemical companies do not even have to produce any data if a substance was put on the market before 1981 - and that counts for over 90% of the chemicals in circulation."

We can only speculate about the connection between the widespread use of chemicals in the home and the concurrent rise in cancers, particularly hormonal cancers. What cannot be questioned are the facts: breast cancer rates have increased by more than 50% in the past three decades, while prostate and testicular cancer rates have almost doubled. Even when ill-effects are suspected or have been identified in laboratory tests on animals, there is often no conclusive proof of the effects of individual chemicals on human health, particularly in the long term. Still more worrying is the fact that nobody knows what happens when humans are repeatedly exposed to a cocktail of diverse chemicals.

According to Strutt, the chemical manufacturers use this lack of certainty to their advantage: "The industry demands proof of harm before a chemical is restricted. Even when it is established that a chemical is harmful, they fall back on the exposure argument - for example, will a child receive a big enough dose from the toy to cause harm?

"Legislators fall for this because current regulations are based on risk rather than precaution. In other words, if the estimated exposure of a child to a particular chemical means only one in a million will incur damage, that is an acceptable risk. We argue that no avoidable risk is acceptable."

This state of affairs is set to change. In October 2003, the European Commission announced radical plans to crack down on chemicals found in many household items. Under the new guidelines - known as Reach (Registration, Evaluation and Authorisation of Chemicals) - chemicals will be subject to more stringent testing and companies will be forced to disclose basic information about all the chemicals they produce. Should the proposals become law in 2005, around 30,000 chemicals are expected to undergo safety tests.

Campaigners say the legislation does not go far enough. Substances identified as "of very high concern" will not automatically be banned. Instead the company producing such a substance will have to demonstrate "adequate control" over its circulation.

"The chemical industry will almost certainly argue that many substances we have identified as hazardous are 'adequately controlled'," says Strutt. "It will then take years to show they are not controlled, and the onus will be on environmental and health groups to do this."

The chemical industry is not happy with the Reach guidelines either. Judith Hackett, director general of the Chemical Industries Association (CIA), says: "We don't want to replace one set of regulations that don't work with another that aren't right. Consumers want information on the substances of highest concern, not five years of tests on substances of little concern which will be looked at just because they're produced in high volumes. Reach does not yet prioritise enough.

"European legislation banning substances will not prevent them finding their way into our homes," she adds. "Take phthalates in children's toys. Most children's toys are manufactured in the far east. Who will police the toys coming into Europe and determine whether or not they contain phthalates? These phthalates are unlikely to be manufactured in Europe."

As consumers, we have almost no say in whether we expose ourselves to these potentially harmful chemicals. They are now found in dust particles and in rivers; they are part of our environment. And it is practically impossible to avoid buying products that contain them. Washing powders, cleaning products and toys do not have to list their full ingredients. Only cosmetic products must do so by law and commercial confidentiality protections allow them to leave out select ingredients.

"Until the law changes," says Helen Lynn, "we'd be better off throwing open the windows, cleaning our homes with lemon juice, vinegar and bicarbonate of soda, choosing furnishings, cosmetics and toiletries that are as natural as possible and demanding products that are not just fit for their immediate purpose but are safe in all respects."

How your home may be poisoning you

1 Anti-perspirant deodorants: most brands of stick/cream/roll-on deodorants (not usually aerosols).
Problem ingredient: parabens. Parabens are a family of compounds widely used as preservatives in a range of cosmetics including shampoos, make-up, lotions and deodorants. Although they cannot yet be conclusively indentified as a cause of breast cancer, evidence now suggests they can act as oestrogen mimics. One, propyl paraben, has been shown to adversely affect male reproductive functions and decreased daily sperm production.

2 Toothpaste: most brands.
Problem ingredients: triclosan. Triclosan is a chlorophenol used in products such as toothpaste, soaps and body washes, including vaginal washes - as well as many household cleaning products, and even dish cloths and chopping boards - for its antimicrobial (bacteria-killing) properties. The human body is a home for many different bacteria, many of which are beneficial. However, triclosan will kill all bacteria that it comes across, irrespective of whether they are good or bad.

3 Dark hair dye
Problem ingredient: PPD (colouring agent). Hair dyes have been of concern since 1933, when they were found to contain p-phenylenediamine (PPD) and lead acetate. The darker the hair dye, the more PPD it may contain. PPD is also a suspected mutagen (a substance that causes changes to human DNA). Recent studies have suggested that those who have worked for 10 or more years as a hairstylist could have a risk of bladder cancer five times that of the general population. In 1995, more evidence linked frequent or long-term use of hair dyes by professionals to a higher incidence of non-Hodgkins lymphoma and cancer of the bone marrow. Another recent study found that women who regularly dye their hair are at a higher risk of ovarian cancer.

4 Illustrated children's pyjamas: including Disney-branded Buzz Lightyear pyjamas.
Problem ingredient: phthalates (plus nonylphenol, see below). Phthalates are a group of synthetic chemicals used as softeners in the manufacture of PVC - they are used to make the soft, glazed, plastic design on the front of the pyjama tops. Phthalates have already been banned in teething toys. They are associated with liver, kidney and testicular damage.

5 "Rubber" bath duck toy (made from PVC): including Funky Bath duck by Chad Valley, from Woolworths.
Problem ingredients: nonylphenol (plus phthalates). Nonylphenol is used in the manufacture of PVC. Studies have shown that it can mimic the female hormone oestrogen and high levels have been found in rivers where male fish have developed female characteristics. Earlier this year, research showed that the chemical had adverse effects on mammalian sperm production. A 2002 study found that nonylphenol can damage the DNA of glands that produce antibodies to fight off diseases.

6 Baby feeding bottle: including Toys-R-Us decorated feeding bottle.
Problem ingredient: bisphenol-A. Bisphenol-A is used in the synthesis of polycarbonate plastics and epoxy resins. It has been shown to cause genetic damage in mice. A study published in Environmental Health perspectives found that it acts as a hormone mimic and can damage the mammary glands, uterus and male genital tract of animals. Although plastics not containing it are available, it is very hard for a consumer to tell the difference - try using glass feeding bottles as a safe alternative.

7 Some air fresheners: including Ambi Pur parfum d'interior.
Problem ingredient: artificial musks. Most fragranced products contain artificial musks (a known liver toxin), which are increasingly being found in breast milk. They can be inhaled or absorbed through the skin or on food. Some artificial musks have already been banned. Never spray air freshener in an enclosed space.

8 Upholstered furniture
Problem ingredient: brominated flame retardants (also found in home PCs and televisions) have been linked with hormone disruption and thyroid problems. A 1999 study found that three types induced intragenic genetic recombination in mammalian cells, which is known to provoke a number of diseases, including cancer. High levels have been found in breast milk. Safe alternatives are available. Ikea has eliminated brominated flame retardants from all its furniture. TV manufacturers Hitachi, Philips and Sony are all phasing it out.

So, you are four now, my son

I *am* sorry that it took me until two p.m. to remember it was your birthday. I am sorry that I forgot to mention it earlier. I really feel gutted by the way I just blurted it out with a whiny "mubarak" as I burst into tears at the thought of my baby slipping ever more away from me.

You took it like a man, of course. You showed me how big your feet are and how long your legs have become. I didn't need to see how big your bum is, but yes, there it is - like a four-year-olds - no disputing that. You proudly told your brother you were "four months old now" and still you don't know the difference between months and years and I fear this will have adults laughing in your face in the very near future. Prepare to return with the quip "hey - I'm four - I get things wrong - what's *your* excuse a**hole"... but not the a**hole bit.

I didn't get you any presents. I didn't get you a card. I didn't write you a poem or mark the event and I want you to know that this isn't because I don't love you or don't value you. No. If it wasn't forbidden I would worship you and you would let me. Don't think just because I haven't made you a prince for the day that I don't think you aren't worthy of it. You are special and I am sorry if I didn't celebrate that specialness today.

But I gave you a Bounty bar...

Well, this time four years ago you were nearly six hours old. Your face was bright red and you had every nurse and midwife cooing and ahhing. I was glad you were out because OMiGod labour really hurt. I cried a lot that day. So did your Dad and don't let him tell you any different - he's a wuss. He cuddled you and blubbered til the staff kicked him out and locked the doors. Then when they unlocked them the very next morning he was already at the door waiting to be let in, he ran in the ward, pushed me aside and picked you up and cried again. He got me a KitKat so I didn't mind about being pushed. You bonded. I ate. Good deal all round.

I wasn't ready for children and in many, many ways you have been my teacher. I have learned a lot about the world and myself because of you. I had no idea you could live with your heart outside of yourself like it seems I do with you. I didn't know that if someone else trapped their finger and turned to you with their big sad puppy eyes it could hurt *me* more than them. I didn't know that a gummy grin would make me want to bite them.

I also didn't know how impatient I was. I didn't know what sleep deprivation meant. I had no idea how immature and selfish I was. I didn't know what selflessness truly was until I had you. I have grown up, given up, buckled down and made a lot of changes since then. I still yell, yeah. I do. I am weird like that. But hey - you ask for it so I'm not going to beat myself up over it.

But here you are. Now four. You talk. You can read words. You can problem solve. You are toilet trained and you can talk the hind legs off a donkey with your knowledge of vehicles.

But you'll alway be my baby no matter how old you get.

Happy Birthday, son.

Saturday, January 07, 2006

Of course

Turkey WOULD have bird flu wouldn't it. Lovely.

And what's all THIS about. I'm not an angry person, but in Islam people like this would be executed. I have no objection to that scenario.

I love this piccie

Caught in the act!

Picking various posters off the wall - several Arabic numerals have already bitten the dust, and those more astute amongst you will notice a felled British Isles poster on the floor in front of him which he is quietly attempting to retrieve and shove in his gob.


Hajj and Eid

Tawaf video, Sa'i, Labbayk audio and Channel 4 short accounts on Hajj

Soundless videos

Hajj info

OK, so we did a Kaba today. He remembers about the black stone but virtually nothing else so we went on the internet to consolidate what he knew.

We made paper chains (of course) but DH threw the plastic egg boxes out so my other great idea about decoration making didn't pan out.

The Kaba

The Kaba Doors

Offering two nafl rakat... of course

"We're not worthy!" ... they fell into prostration at being overwhelmed by the whole experience

Paper chains

Boss very much intersted in Mandrills at the moment after his Dad told him of them and how of all the animals in Africa the Mandrill is the one people really fear. He's totally absorbed by the fact that his Dad can be scared of anything and the lurid look of these creatures has really sparked his imagination. So I showed him these on the internet then we went into the living room and pretended we were Mandrill. Have to explain to him that we are not allowed to bite even when we are pretending to be biting animals (hmmm). Then he got tired and said "I'm a tired Mandrill now - I'm going home to bed - you be a Mandrill so I can watch you" which confirms my hunch that children when they are bored will use Mum as a TV or donkey...

Had a nice circle time today but I realise how unfit I am. We did "soldier" action rhymes and I was almost on my knees after two verses of The Grand Old Duke of York....!!!

Friday, January 06, 2006


Anybody know where a go-karting thingy can be found in these woods??

He did it again

Somebody had posted us a book through our door. Perhaps they thought we are the library or perhaps (more likely) it was a gift. Khadijah I'm guessing it was you?? Jazakillah to whoever it was.

Anyway, I gave it to Boss and wandered off to try to deal with the amount of crud that encroaches on my house when I'm not looking (Ya Allah give us barakah in our affairs!) and I heard him whisper "f-r-o-g... frog. The ..frog... ... the happy frog?? No dats not right - ders no "h". The... frog ... the ... oh I don't know what these other words say...". And I came into the room and looked. And yes he was reading the title of the book. I can't remember it now. I think it was The Frog with the Big Gob or something like that. And I looked at him. He said "what do these say?" So I told him. And he tried to work it out again by recognising letters.

The other day he did the same with his cars. He got his ambulance which actually has "paramedic" on it and he tried to "read" it. He said "am-bu-lance .... *confused look* ... p ... p ... Mum - is this a police car??". Eek!

I have to say I am really itching to get back to 'work'. I am resisting the urge to get back to "normal" seeing as he is champing at the bit. I'm not going to push it. We need to do more craft and more reading. I'm really liking working with watercolour - he was a bit miffed that it didn't cause as much mess as the Crayola stuff we had before.

Right, George is awake. Better go and invigilate round two. *ding ding*...

Thursday, January 05, 2006

New table new table new table

Woo Hoo. In your face unattainable IKEA. Ya boo sucks to you Great Little Trading who wanted £90 for something similar. Ha ha ha. We got a table - and a chair each ... aw.... Ta da:

... don't look at the other crap in the picture. Just do what I do - just squint your eyes and pretend you are in an oasis. Helps if you take your glasses off. Or have taken really strong painkillers. Or both. See. Nice house.

Tuesday, January 03, 2006


He is less than two foot tall. OK, three. Definitely less than three. He can't walk yet. He has no teeth. He can't talk or feed himself. But ye gads he can cause mayhem and destruction.

Driven only by his sheer determination, and his walker-contraption, he propels himself at high speed from one corner of the room to the next in search of his brother, adventure, grabable and edible artefacts and generally to search and destroy everything that isn't nailed down or out-of-reach.

So far he has pulled several posters off the wall, the leapPad has been hurtled God knows how many times, and a book was almost consumed. Still has one damaged corner. He will sit there with a concentration equal to that of a rocket scientist preparing a NASA mission trying to get his little fingers under the corners of displays on the wall and will pick and pick until mission is accomplished. Then he will chuck it on the floor, run over it, trample it, then look down and shout at it.

Do I have a caveman for a baby?

It came to a head this morning when poor Boss wanted me to read a book to him - and we usually give up after the first page due to the amount of whining and hollering by Jaws at the sight of his brother getting and receiving attention from anyone but him, and sure enough we had just opened the first page when a look of shock, and iron determination crossed my six-month-old's face and with lightening agility he bounded across the room with arms flailing, battle-axes swinging, ready to stop the fun (and perhaps shove the book in his gob). "Oh no" I cried. "Here comes Jaws - hide!"... and we ran around the room singing the "theme" tune to Jaws (duh da duh da duh da DUH da) whilst he was in hot persuit, never giving up for a second. We ran one way and like a whippet Jaws was there. We jumped over the sofa and went to the other corner and within nanoseconds Jaws had skittled across the room. We legged it to the bay-window area where a hefty rug means his darlek-like contraption cannot persue us up the incline, and he just sat there and hollered his dissent - backing us into a corner with has war charriot and stomping his feet. All he needs really is blades attached to his wheels to complete the image and quest for total destruction. And we stared each other out. He dared us to open the book, and we dared him to stop us. "We have to show him who's Boss, M".... "I think he already knows dat". ... hmm... then after what seemed like hours Boss hollered for his Dad:

"Dad - HELP! - George is getting us!"

And there you have it. From hereon in we now call him George. Not quite as frightening as Jaws I'll grant you, but still a formidable force to be reckoned with in this house.

Monday, January 02, 2006

My house is a mess. Shelves have fallen due to the sheer mass of crap that I acquire thinking that one day it will be useful. I don't hoard but I can't afford to buy things twice so I make sure that useful looking things stay. But seeing as my ceilings are caving in I think I will just have to get rid of it all. Ebay!! Hmmm... can you sell pieces of scrap paper on Ebay? Let's give it a try...

What else? Dyson has done a complete halt on crawling and instead has figured out it is easier to roll everywhere. So that's what he does. He rolls. From one end of the room to the other. All day. Like a spinning top. On crack.

Boss will be four years old on Sunday (8th) and this comes with its own problems. Not for us but for family who are distraught that I really do NOT celebrate birthdays in any shape or form and am refusing all cards for him this year. It was OK when he was younger and didn't understand, but now he is getting older I want to make sure I don't start something his memory won't let me finish. Birthday celebration is not a sunnah nor a fard; it brings no barakah and had it been something worth doing I am sure Allah and his messenger (saw) would have mentioned it. Instead we get two Eids which have relevance. Celebrating the self isn't really a noble thing anyway is it?

And I think this ties in with my ponderings on how to incorporate instilling rhythm in our year with making sure I don't begin an innovation in religion. There is a difference being on the outside looking in, and being in the centre of things. Still working on that. But I think I have concluded in my head that my rhythm should be centred on the Islamic calendar and other things highlighted without ceremony, rather than start a load of celebrations that ultimately have no endorsement from on High, so to speak.

I would still like to concentrate on the seasons and elements and mark the solstice of the various times of year but not as a pagan LOL.

And birthdays too. I will say "you are four now" but that's it. No glorification. No inculcating a thing which has no meaning in the diyn. Definitely no presents. And the hardest part will be for my family who think that just because they do something that I have to do it as well. But as this is a two-way street I will save celebrating birthdays for when they see fit to celebrate Ramadan. Yeah... ....

So there you have it. I have one boy on the threshold on boyhood and one boy breakdancing from morning to evening.

He's really rather good at it. Might try it and see if it helps me to lose weight....

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