Home

I haven't written in here for almost a year now. Another Ramadan passed. Lots have happened, again. 

I'm sitting at the beach with a coffee as I'm writing this. The beach that's less than 10 mins walk from where I will be living for a few more days. We're handing over our keys on Tuesday, it feels really bittersweet, so I thought I'd write, and remember. Its an absolutely gorgeous day today. The sky is blue and the water's almost shimmering. The sound of light waves is so soothing its almost putting me to sleep. 

Moving here was an unexpected event in my life. When I was in early university days I wanted to live in an apartment above a cafe, so that I can just go downstairs and get really good coffee and come up to the comfort of my home. It was such a silly idea, but subhanAllah, Allah has answered my wistful wish in a better way. For just over a year, I've lived in an apartment close to the beach, a couple minutes walk away from some great cafes (eight cafes, I just counted). I was able to come out for morning walks and see gorgeous sunrises and feel the sand between my toes. Also, for the first time in my life, I was able to call a bit of space 'my' home. I went from my parents home to my in laws home and that's how I lived for over 30 years of my life, which isn't so terrible when you consider the grand scheme of things and the tests that lots of others go through, but its the subtle inconvenience of never feeling at home. Which I suppose is not the worst thing in the world, as we aren't really meant to feel at home in this world anyway.

We've had a lot of visible tests this past year - A's sickness, the car accident things and everything related to these two. We've never paid this much behind doctors and car issues. But things could have been much worse. I say 'visible' tests because we are constantly being tests and its up to us to recognise that we are in a test and respond to it appropriately. If life has taught me anything it is that no one test is better than the other and there is really no way out of it, except for Allah's help. So, we just need to keep making dua and trying our best, keep doing this over and over again until we die.

Now we're moving again, to where we are not exactly sure. I suppose there's beauty in this as well - the mixture of uncertainty of life but security of living is what makes it fun and exciting. These last few days have been exciting indeed. I've been sorting through our things and packing them in boxes. I feel guilty about throwing so much out especially because a lot of it is broken plastic/treated wood and weird things like that which is terrible for the environment, but then holding onto these will bring no benefit and will just lead to hoarding. I've held onto lots of things in the hope that kids will do craft with them, but sometimes it just doesn't happen. So I guess I just have to be brutal about it this one time and throw things out, then, when we get another place - we have to be intentional about what comes into our home and what doesn't. 

We've sold the following things over the past couple of weeks: shoe rack, washing machine, magnetic bike, bed and side table set, two mattresses, dining chairs and sofa set. Alhamdulillah. It felt almost impossible at the beginning, but we're getting there. I've cleaned out the main cupboards already. But we just have to spend the next two days in sorting through the rest and putting them in boxes/throwing them away. 

Alhamdulillah. We never lose out by making dua. There is blessing in both directly answered and 'unanswered' dua. 

I wrote this sometime in late Feb/early March this year:

How long does it take

for a space to become a home?

Blurry childhood memories:

Sunlight on the balcony...

Tiny lizards on the wall...

Laughter...

8 PM dinners...

Tuberoses every Friday. 

My mother in all her beauty,

Baba - the wisest, smartest person I knew.

Our broken English sentences -

To prepare for the journey ahead.

How long does it take

for a space to become a home?

Ma's tears as she sat 

on the doorstep of our balcony

In Flemington.

Tears for a home left behind.

Baba - trying to hold on -

Onto the family of five

For a "better" future 

than what he left behind -

Honour, respect, himself.

The two of them

Striving to keep the ground beneath us steady

As their own feet shook.

Dua for - better, better, better.

Two teenagers,

Grappling to live life,

Growing up in mixed worlds.

Trying to make sense of it with their senses.

While, I -

I lived blissfully.

They made home feel like home.

My top bunk,

First facewash,

Gell pens and diaries,

Becoming a woman between houses 

From two bedrooms to three

Balcony to a backyard

Pink walls and mirrors

Brown tiles and bottle green curtains

Our new home took no time

to feel like home.

Dandelions, sunlight and spiderwebs,

...being laughed at, at school...

- My bed with its checkered bedsheet -

...tears, dua, that corner in the library...

- Comfort food in the kitchen -

Hug from apuni,

"It'll be alright,"

Dua, dua, dua.

Finding new friends, hope, laughter

Turning fourteen... Fifteen... Sixteen... Changing schools.

Home - 

my study table, bookshelf, diaries.

Home.

From high school to university -

A bigger world,

A bigger home, 

From three bedrooms to five -

My own space.

My white bed, my table, my bookshelf.

My clothes on the floor.

My pens and papers.

The view from my windows -

Three of them 

Birds on my tree.

Distant mountains - 

All mine.

How long does it take

for a space to become a home?

For a face to become a home?

His face, his hands

His words

The way he showed me the world.

From Philippines to Fez

Deserts and Oceans

Land and the sky

Airports felt like home.

Then,

Two became three.

Three became four.

Tests roll in as life rolls out.

"Rabbi, build for me a home next to You."

As I sit here with the sun on my skin

The sound of waves

Sand between my toes

Thinking about how 

Our new home took no time

to feel like home.

I'll leave it all behind soon.

Tiptoeing on the stairs...

Soaking clothes in the tub...

Mess on the living room floor...

Glue, paint, playdough, love.

Swimming in the afternoons...

Sunrise with a coffee in hand...

Picking frangipanis from the ground...

Watching planes land, and leave.

This feels like home.

Even if its just for a little while.

Everyday thoughts

 I haven't written in this space for a while. Lots changed since the last time I posted, since Ramadan this year. Something almost unimagineable happened - we moved. In the past few years there were many instances when I thought about my old age, I almost had flash forwards to when I am eighty and alone, sitting in that balcony and staring out at the tree in the front yard. But it happened, and not through my effrots, alhamdulillah. This was a huge lesson - that when our heart desires something, we may not be making dua for it, but Allah knows what is best for us and can make it happen. What I did ask for was izza - honour and respect - in the whole process and whereever we are. 

I just realised - my writing style changed quite a bit as well. I started to write like Mr H - run on sentences and random punctuation everywhere. 

I'm at the tail end of my current job (and a potential break from my current career) in a few weeks. My ideas have massively evolved over the past six months or so. I was looking forward to this stage of my life because I thought I'd finally get better sleep, I would be able to spend more time with the kids while they are awake and get my night's rest back. Little A (not so much baby A any more) developed eczema and allergies since we moved. We've been to the emergency department twice in a week, I've delved into natural treatment and completely changed some parts of my surroundings to accomodate her needs. She is still up several times at night, and I am still on two cups of coffee/tea a day. 

I'm getting more me time these days though. Mr H has been taking the girls without me and visiting his parents about once a month. We see them at least once a week otherwise anyway alhamdulillah. 

I'm looking into writing more, professionally. The imposter syndrome affected part of me wants to ask: is it worth it? But I know the answer is: yes. I have had a few professionals tell me that I should just go for it. Life is short, so why not.

M is going to school next year inshaallah, proper school. She isn't enrolled in anything yet and she has no idea what a school is like beyond the borders of the small homeschooling school she is a part of now. We are continuing to have great conversations almost everyday. This is our convo after getting my morning coffee:

M: Mamaa, why can't I have coffee?

Me: Because it has caffeine in it (she knows the answer.. but continues to ask 😑)

M: What's caffeine?

Me: Its a drug.

M: What's a drug?

Me: Something that changes your brain.

M: I know what else is a drug. Alcohol. 

Me: Yes! But alcohol is haram and caffeine is not.

M: Why?

Me: Because Allah said so. Caffeine isn't as bad for you as alcohol is. 

I love that M made that connection. She first learnt about alcohol when we went to a hotel and she saw bottles lined up behind the service desk. She recognised alcohol in aldi and a bottle shop afterwards. She asks difficult questions these days, and I love it. We have had many conversations about caffeine before. She knows that she can have it when she's older when her brain is developed a little more and will be less affected by caffeine. I love how intelligent and sincere she is, mashaallah. May Allah always protect her and guide her. 

I'm at a cafe today, typing this. Mr H is meant to take the girls to the park. I hope they already left and I can have some time to myself at home. 

April Things

We've hit the 8 year mark in our marriage Alhamdulillah. Mr H and I are both terrible at gifts. We can't give them and we don't appreciate them either. I would much rather the experiences than any physical gifts, and I think he's the same. I wrote this for him:

Eight years of you and I
How quickly time passed us by
I don't remember our first meeting.
But
I remember
The yellow rose
Train rides
The necklace you chose
Ocean tides.
Driving through
Green trees
Sandy feet
Night breeze.
Smiling eyes
Messy hair
Adventures
Everywhere.

Now,
Thirty two countries,
Two girls,
Some fights, sleepless nights
Falling in love once more
Talking, chasing, living
Falling deeper than before.
Eight years of you and I
How quickly time passed us by
I hope we have many years ahead
Of driving while holding hands.

----

This year, I've hit thirty one. M is five.

I marvel at the way the girls have grown alhamdulillah. Allah kept them safe and healthy, and they grew, so fast! M can now read and write, is almost half way through the Iqra series, she has memorised 7 suwar - alhamdulillah! A is only just over 2 now and she tries to do the things that M does. I look at them and I feel the pride that parents feel in their hearts. But I know that everything that they have is from Allah, another mother might be doing the exact same things that I am but if the blessing isn't there the same fruits wouldn't come. May Allah always bless and protect us.

I had such a beautiful conversation with M this morning, I wanted to record it before I forget.

M knows that its her birthday. Today is the first year that she understands what a birthday is. She asked to bake a cake but we decided that we would do cake when she finishes her current Iqra book (got this idea from someone else). We would also do cake at other times as well (got this idea from another apu). I told Maryam that tonight might be a very special night. She asked: Laylatul Qadr?

I was so surprised! I didn't tell her about it and I didn't expect her to know. I asked her how she knows and she said that she remembers the 'boy' (imam) mentioning it last night during taraweeh. We talked about why Laylatul Qadr is special - its like Quran's birthday, when Allah sent down Quran for the very first time, just like she was in mumma's tummy five years ago and she came out (she enjoyed this comparison). 

We talked about Surah Al Qadr and everything it mentions - how its the most special night of the year, and lots of angels come down, even angel Jibril! M was amazed. She asked, 'is there a song about it?'

I said, 'I don't know, but we can make one!'

M started me off: Laylatul Qadr is the best night 

Laylatul Qadr is the best night 

Its worth a thousand months

Lots of angels come down

We pray from our hearts.

(We couldn't find anything that rhymed with months 😂). 

I'm really enjoying her innocence and interest now. I know this stage won't last forever, but I can enjoy it for the time being, and keep her and A in my duas. 

Morning thoughts

The girls have been sleeping terribly lately. A is weaning, M is always fighting sleep because all the other adults in the house seem to have so much fun when its her bed time, emotions fly everywhere when its bed time. I remember when A was born. Those early days - I used to count down the minutes till bed time - going through the day like a zombie, trying to survive. Now I look at the time every hour or so at night and get super happy when I see something close to 5:00 or later. Morning means coffee and getting on with the day.

Right now, I'm in my veranda, watching the blue sky with scattered clouds, watching the leaves sway slightly in the breeze, sipping on my coffee. I can hear the wind and the birds, and a dog barking in the distance. 

Is this week 7 already?! I need to do my daybook and send it. I also need to plan for the rest of the term. 

My coffee is really good today. I am using the espresso machine that I had before I got married, which got cleaned and put away in the garage for the past seven years. Mr H got me some good beans and a grinder, and my parents were cleaning up their garage, and with the lack of sleep its been the perfect time to start experimenting with fresh coffee at home.

I have been doing a 1000 piece puzzle that we got from Italy in 2016. It stays in my walk in robe, away from the kids. I need to figure out a way to glue the pieces together and display it once its done. 

B sent a quote today that he got in a work email. Resentment is like poison you drink yourself, and then wait for the other person to die. How true is that?!

Time

The Prophet (pubh) said: “The Hour will not begin until knowledge is taken away, earthquakes increase, time passes quickly, tribulations appear, and there is a lot of haraj, which is killing, killing, and until there will be a lot of wealth among you and it will become abundant.” (Bukhari)

The Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said: “The Hour will not begin until time passes quickly, so a year will be like a month, and a month will be like a week, and a week will be like a day, and a day will be like an hour, and an hour will be like the burning of a braid of palm leaves.” (Ahmad)

Day of Judgement is close. 

Time seems to be racing forward. Ramadan began just then, and we are already at its end. This year just started, and its already nearly half way through. I am thirty. I feel like I am being hurled forward in time each day, getting to the end of the day and still having so much work left to do. This is a good reminder that there is no better time to stop procrastinating in worship and improvement. These are the only things that will remain at the end of the day. The clothes on the floor can be put away, they'll end up on the floor again. The dishes will keep piling. Craft papers will somehow always be scattered everywhere. There will be pen marks on the wall. But the time I spend worrying, being angry, being miserable - these times will never come back. 

I came across an interesting verse today: And there are some who worship Allah on the verge of faith: if they are blessed with something good, they are content with it; but if they are afflicted with a trial, they relapse into disbelief, losing this world and the Hereafter. That is truly the clearest loss. (Quran - 22:11)

Reflections

There is something so relaxing about sitting at a cafe with soft sunlight streaming through leaves and onto me. It reminds me of the past, how things used to be years ago, my regular visits to cafes to calm down and gather myself. The girls are taken care of, no body is waiting for me. I can breathe as slow as I want. I ordered an entire dish for myself - two eggs on mushrooms on a sourdough, with some kind of a sauce on the side - it was absolutely delicious. Now I am going to plan for the next term while sipping on my coffee. 

Names of Allah I have been reflecting upon:

Al-Haleem - someone who allows us to make mistakes and then return to Him in our own time. 

Al-Lateef - someone who works in His own, subtle ways, so that every single thing is meaningful, even though at a certain moment someone may not make sense.

Al-Muizz - The One who makes it possible for someone to be honoured, respected. He is also Mudhil - The One that dishonours. It reminds me that all respect, honour, izza - comes from Allah. 

There's a fair few things that are on my plate at the moment. A close family member is getting married, I started a new job that I absolutely love, my girls are growing up. I need to remind myself to hold those names to my heart and remember them, always. I need to purify my intentions so that everything I do is for Allah. 

Sometimes I wait for that last breath to wake me up. And then life gets good (like now) and I don't want to leave it. I need to remember to keep the dunya in my hand, no matter what anyone else does.

purpose

Irrelevant, insignificant, arbitrary, relative

Those are the words that come to mind when I think of this life. Yet, we (need to) put so much effort behind everything. I am loving how busy I am lately. I hate not being busy, I hate the feeling of uselessness. I hate being busy with inconsequential things as well. I love that I have a sense of purpose now. 

Insomniac thoughts

Dear daughters,

Just when you may think that life has settled down into a nice rhythm, something might come and shake your whole world. Do not be surprised when this happens. This is a reminder that you do not control everything in your life - but what you do control is your attitude, words and actions. You know better than to be bitter. Pray, focus on saving up for your hereafter, and take comfort in the fact that no matter whatever you do, your rizk is written. Words stay. Do not hurt anyone with your words.

Love,

Ammi.

Days

By the time maghrib rolled around I was quite tired and felt like I needed another cup of coffee, then I wondered why. A few reasons:
- I have been having 2/3 cups by maghrib for the past few days and I've only had one today.
- I began my day unproductively (I also slept at 2 AM last night after watching Parasite, so I woke up tired anyway).
- My day consisted of: Errands + breakfast date with Mr H in the morning, painting and Arabic with M, frequently feeding teething baby A, making a creamy mushroom pasta and sautéing the rest of the mushrooms so that it doesn't go off, finding that baby A got into the dessert that I hid last night from M and having to give her a bath, finding the bathroom sink covered with tissues and toothpaste (M), washing two loads of clothes.    

some thoughts

I just went back and read my posts from last June. Wow, how has life changed! I have a three year old and a (nearly) nine month old now, Mr H and I are okay again, I feel more assertive (but not quite enough) in this house. Some things haven't changed - I am always surrounded by mess and getting annoyed by it, I still need my coffee (more than ever now), anxiety.

Little M has been saying everything lately, alhamdulillah. I was so worried about her speech, her food intake, her walking etc when she was under two, alhamdulillah - all of those issues have resolved in the past year. It was really, really hard when Baby A was just born. The first four months or so was extremely difficult, in retrospect. Some things are still difficult but I am getting used to it now.

Things that have made me feel accomplished in the past few weeks:
- Making cookies with M for Eid
- Doing an Arabic word a day and craft with M (we did this for about 7/8 days but it was spread out within Ramadan. M remembers most of the words alhamdulillah). I thought we should do this because when M came back from our Central/South America trip, she came back with some Spanish words that she still remembers. 'Leche', 'agua' etc.
- Cleaning up and organising M's toys and clothes
- Wrapping and giving Eid gifts
- Making Eid food - lasagna, satay chicken, salted caramel brownie cup dessert
- Making a song about Fridays and singing it with M most Fridays:
Friday is the best
Best of all days
There's a special hour
Every Friday
When Dua is accepted by Allah
Al Mujeeb, Al Wadood, alhamdulillah.
Our Prophet showed us
How to make it special
Reciting Suratul Kahf
Don't forget your ghusl!
Sending salawat
Upon Muhammad
Sallallahu alayhi wa sallam.

More deaths

Shejo khala
Green mami
Afia's father
Mejho chacha
Shejo khalu

These are the people that have passed away this year. There are many more deaths that I have heard of this year, but these are the people that I have memories of or has had some impact on my life in one way or another. Every time I get a message on a group chain starting with "inna lillahi…", it makes me feel like I saw this coming, another death, as if this is going to be the new normal. My heart feels heavy. Life is going on normally around me - its a beautiful, sunny day. Food is being cooked downstairs, the grass is being cut outside, Asiyah is napping. All those people had normal days too. They had sunny days, they had days when they wondered what they will have for dinner, they had days of work and sleep. But all of them are gone now.

It's interesting that I feel this way because death is something that I come across so often these days. Every time I come across the name of a new serial killer I search up everything about him/her. True crimes are something I've been fascinated by for a few years. But lately, learning more about what happens after death (Yasir Qadhi - Barzakh series on YouTube) makes me wonder what their souls experienced. My mind feels overloaded. Life feels so, so short.

Other deaths that I have heard of from friends:
1.5 year old baby in Adelaide
Both grandparents in laws - Ishita apu
Nazia's father in law
Abbu's fupi

It scares me because Ramadan is so close. Allahumma ballighna Ramadan is something that should be on our lips all the time now.

Moments

Asiyah is crawling around in the on the playroom floor. She stops in front of the balcony door, turns to me, sees me smile and claps in delight. Maryam is playing with a small ball. A few minutes ago, she ran off to her room with the ball and some blocks, with a cheeky smile and a glitter of experiment in her eyes. She came back with the ball a little shaved by the block. I knew she was going to do this because she was doing it right in front of me, and then ran off when I asked her not to do it. She was thinking she's hiding from me. She came back with the ball and asked me to play with it, I told her I don't want to because I don't like the feel of it any more - its rough with bits coming off. She tried to clean it and then offered it to me again.

While writing that, Maryam has already moved on to hide and seek with Asiyah.

These moments will be gone so, so fast. A lot of these moments are testing, but a lot of them are very rewarding as well. When I have testing moments, I just need to remember that this life is very short. Moments pass, they may be forgotten, but the way we react matters. I can already see that Maryam deals with Asiyah in some of the ways that I deal with her, which is pleasing and rewarding to see most of the time. She has trouble containing her frustration at times, but she's not even three yet. As adults, we can't control our reactions many times. Why do we expect a two year old to behave differently then?

Some rewarding moments from the past few days:

- Maryam sneezing and saying Alhamdulillah.
- Maryam bringing one book for herself and one book for Asiyah.
- Maryam patting and hugging Asiyah to comfort her.
- This from a few days ago: "I am sitting in my balcony with an empty cup of coffee, which still smells like coffee. The sun is about to set, making the whole sky pink bronze. The trees are swaying every so slightly in the soft rain. Different types of birds are chirping in their own ways. The rain is slowly getting heavier, but not too heavy. This moment is so, so perfect."

Death

My mum's sister passed away yesterday. She suffered a lot in this world, in many ways that I haven't, or even have seen anyone suffer. While I was having dessert last night and picking off the blueberries and feeding my daughter at her request, it occurred to me that khalamoni probably never tasted a blueberry in this world. How amazing is the promise of Jannah! She can taste so much more than we ever can in this world, soon. Its scary to think that I live a life in which everything I want is at my fingertips. Ya Allah, do not take away any of my blessings and grant me Jannah as well, ameen.

How do I make sense of it?

Death is inevitable. I don't know when I will die. The only thing I can do is to live my life with purpose and meaning and look forward to the promise of Allah, knowing that everything is out of His mercy and that He is the Most Merciful.

Allah is Ar-Razzak - everything comes from Him. All of my rizk - love, family, wealth, comfort, peace - everything. The only Being that can keep it all going is Him.

Allah is Al-Malik - He owns EVERYTHING. Every place we go to in the world, everything I have. If I ask, I need to ask of Him.

Allah is Ar-Rahman, Al-Lateef, Ash-Shakur, Al-Kareem, Al-Mujeeb, Al-Wadood.

Allah is Al-Hakim - Every decision He makes is a wise decision.

Allah is As-Samad - He is the only One we can turn to for anything.

Happiness

I heard the story of ninety nine coins yesterday. A man found a bag labelled 'one hundred gold coins' in front of his door. When he took it inside and counted all the coins, he found ninety-nine. He counted again and again but there was only ninety nine. When he woke up that morning, before he opened his door, he was a happy man. But as soon as he started to expect to find one hundred gold coins inside a bag he wasn't even supposed to get, he became dissatisfied with ninety-nine, forgetting that he wasn't expecting these gold coins to turn up at his door at all.

Expecting anything from people leads to disappointment. 

Advice

Dear daughters,

If you are anything like me, you will yearn for someone to hold your heart. You will look for a friend to hold your secrets, to make you feel whole on the days that you only feel less than a half. I can only hope and pray that you won't just throw your heart to anyone that you see. That you love yourself first, for the sake of Allah. That you love Allah before you love people. And when you do find that special someone to give your heart to, I pray that you only give him the parts of your heart that remains after giving it to Allah and yourself. People are only people, they won't be as careful as you will be with your own. You won't be as careful either as Allah will be. So even if he breaks the part that you lend him, you won't be completely broken. I pray that you have band-aids at hand for those days, band-aids of self-affirmation and dua.

You are enough, because Allah made you enough. You are important, because He created you and sent you to this world. You have a purpose to fulfill.

Always remember: The only place that will fill the hole in your heart and make you feel absolutely whole will be Jannah. The only Being that can take you there is Allah.

See you there someday, my sweet darlings.

Love,

Ammi.

Tonight

It felt like a punch to my stomach and I know exactly why. It was a reminder that this world is nothing but a test and no one will stand by anyone else on the day of judgement. It was a reminder to really look within myself and remember who I am, what defines me. My self-worth is not defined by anyone else, nor can I judge anyone and feel like I will never be in their position. I guess it almost made me feel like myself again. I have been in a daze of happiness, but this world is never meant to truly fulfil. I need to be grateful for all my blessings, but not surprised when a test comes my way.

Writing has always helped me to ease pain, and this pain too is eased a little already. I need to look back at this when I don't feel like this again and remember.

Ignorance is bliss, but knowledge is a cautionary tale. Lack of honesty means lack of sincerity. Its like that termite patch the pest control guy found at my parents' house. I guess the difference between forgiveness and putting up with abuse is the result. Only Allah has the capacity and the ability to forgive over and over and over again. Humans are limited. You need to let the hurt heal to truly forgive, and being hurt in the same place over and over again doesn't allow it to heal. 

Quick thoughts

I'm alone. I can't remember when I was alone for more than a couple of minutes last (including toilet trips). I am really enjoying the feel of the mattress on my back and the fan on my hair. My kids are downstairs with their dad and his family, and I decided to take this alone time and let them watch TV with the adults. Bad decision? Probably... but I can't be bothered with effort right now. Which makes me wonder whether I can actually homeschool like I planned to, for the first 3 years of my kids' schooling. I am a very inconsistent person. I have lots of ideas that I would like to execute, and I do start to execute them, but I stop after the first few hurdles. Which makes me worry about how I will parent my girls. 

Mothering two

I love this space. I have been expressing myself over here for nearly fifteen years and it has proven to be quite therapeutic. I go back and read some blogs that I have written in the past, and hopefully I will be able to as well when my children are teenagers, so that I can remember what it was like to be one. Struggles are so easily forgotten once they are over and it becomes a test in itself to relate to someone who is going through something that you have overcome a long time ago. Just two days ago I met a mother who was recounting her struggle of weaning her daughter - she remembers it so clearly even though I weaned little M much later. I couldn't remember how much M cried, how many days I kept my turtleneck on and the exact process that I went through. All I remembered in the beginning is that I made dua so that she weaned, and it was quite easy.

I remembered later that I walked around in the middle of the night, holding my nearly two year old, while being three months pregnant, crying because I couldn't be strong enough to wean but my sensations were too crazy for me to continue breastfeeding. I remembered later that I woke up on a weekend day, at my mum's house, and realised that its been twenty four hours since I last breastfed my daughter, and that that feed was the last.

So I really want to recount my life as it is now - my struggles, my gifts. Its hard to find the time and the energy now, but I need to do this.

Right now, I am sipping on a cup of instant coffee while I occasionally rock baby A on my legs. She has been a little fussy in the last day or two, possibly because of the leap she's going through. M is watching TV upstairs with a bottle of milk. These days the only things I tend to write (type.. its almost as if I have forgotten to write by hand!) are to do lists and whatsapp messages. SO here's my to do list to be completed in the next hour:
- Finish writing this blog
- Load the dishwasher
- Get clothes ready for tonight (we have a wedding to go to)
- Clean room
- Pack some stuff into the car for tomorrow

And if I have time: Bathe A. Around 3 PM I need to leave the house for about an hour. I can come back and bathe A if need be. But she needs to be bathed. This little one throws up at least once a day and she has such luscious hair (mA) that all of the bits get stuck in her hair. Pretty gross.

I like spending time with M - she is into made up stories now, which is really fun. Her favourite game right now is that I pretend to sleep and she rings the bell "ding dong!" - then I pretend to wake up in a flurry and ask who's there. Sometimes its herself, sometimes she pretends to be someone else and laughs so much at the thought of it! The last few times she was pretending that I'm her cousin and she really had a lot of fun thinking how silly it was. She pretends that there are other people around, or that she's doing something else even though she might be eating at that time, or that she's a lion or a rabbit. Then she cracks up laughing. Its quite fun being around a two and a half year old.

But then it stops being fun when she wants to play that game over and over and over again. I feel a bit guilty when I want to just immerse myself in my phone or on netflix, but I still do, and I just turn the TV on for her, which I thought I wouldn't do... before I became a parent.

I have been having two cups of coffees lately because one just does not cut it. No nap during the day and broken sleep at night, while also trying to be a smiling parent to two kids - was it ever easy to anyone? Or did women just accept that this is how life is and just moved on? I guess its good that she sees that I'm not constantly doting over her, she will need to learn the skill of finding solace in solitude. Inshaallah when A is a little bit older they can play together and time will go a little faster for her. Time is going fast for me, but also slow. The hours are slow, but the days are fast. Baby A is already almost 2 months old!

From tomorrow onwards, I will be between two houses again. We travel for about three months in the year, and the rest of the time is divided between two houses for me. So I am always on the move. It is how it is. This world is not truly a home at all, and this constant move is a good reminder of that.

Should I start to document my daily struggles and excitements again? I hope I will find a little bit of time to do so at least. This will be something nice to look back onto when the kids fly off and leave an empty nest behind. 

Unfinished draft from a few days post birth

I heard a song yesterday that made me cry. It was written by a midwifery student after seeing her first birth - it came up on one of my facebook groups and just listening to it took me back to last Sunday.

Oh baby I know this is not what we planned
Now it’s all just a blur but I’m still the command
So I’m keeping my promise, I’ll do all that I can
To keep you safe

Now there’s needles and wires, that monitor’s blaring
This room’s full of strangers and everyone’s staring
But I’m focused on you and it keeps me from caring
I am here in this now, you’re my own, I’m not sharing

I move
I move through the waves
Through these rushes I sway
Within myself I arrive
I roar
Roar so loudly I shake
In this power I quake
My breath breathing down this life

I am one with my sisters this strength old as time
And I’m nearing the peak of this mountain I climb
In this claiming of wisdom I am deep in my mind
In this dance with the cosmos, I court the divine

And I move,
I move through the waves
Through these rushes I sway
Within myself I arrive
I roar
Roar so loudly I shake
In my power I quake
My breath breathing down this life

I can’t do this, cant do this, I can’t I can’t do this
Oh I changed my mind, yeah I don’t want to do this
I’m sorry my baby, I give up, I won’t do this
Oh I want to go back, I am done, I can’t do this

Ohhhh

I did it, I did it, Oh baby, we did this
Oh I am so strong, can’t believe that I did this
My baby you’re here now, you’re perfect, we did this
Did you see that, did you see me, I did it, I did it

I moved, I moved through the waves
Through those rushes I swayed
Within myself I arrived
And I roared
Roared so loudly I’d shake
In my power I quake
My breath
It brought you life

---

Last Sunday, I woke up feeling like I couldn't do this anymore, even though I had more than a week left before Baby A was supposed to enter the world. I told B that I felt the urge to go for a long walk and induce this baby, I felt the need to walk for as long as I could until my contractions started. So, after breakfast, we cleaned out our entire room, B washed the bathroom and the veranda and I put out a load of washing and put in another one in the wash. I got M ready and she was very excited for the walk! But then when I went to get dressed to go outside, I noticed blood and it freaked me out. I realised I haven't felt the baby move at all that day. 

We called the hospital, took some dates with us and left, leaving M with her grandparents. Since getting pregnant again, I have been feeling increasingly grateful to be living with family. It allowed me to get some rest while M played downstairs, or go out for an appointment without worrying about childcare. 

One of those days

M went to bed past midnight last night. She was so tired that she was bouncing off the walls. I had to keep reminding myself that this too shall pass, this night will be forgotten one day, one day she will grow up and she won't be in my bed any more, she won't be an innocent toddler filled with energy for long. But we're still human and that means limited energy, which meant that I woke up feeling extra tired (on top of the usual tiredness that comes with being a mother of a toddler and a newborn). M's favourite word today was 'no'.

'Do you want to go to rhyme time?'
'No.'
'Do you want to go outside?'
'No.'
'Do you want to stay home?'
'No.'

She refused to change her nappy for a while, and then she chucked a small tantrum about which nappy she is going to wear. She refused to finish her breakfast (I caved and had the last spoon myself). She refused to get changed, but she did want to go out. By the time we managed to finish breakfast and feeding baby A, changing everyone's nappies and clothes, putting things in the wash and hanging out the washing, it was already 10.30. I just wore whatever was at hand - kept my pyjama pants on underneath my abaya, which was a little short so you could see my pjs from under, and threw on a jilbab. These were the cleanest clothes I had on hand and these would have to do. 10.30 is when rhyme time starts.

So off we went anyway - after we had another small battle about shoes and sitting on the pram nicely - and after I found my keys - with baby A in a wrap and M in the pram. By the time we got close to the shops  I realised we would only catch the last five minutes of rhyme time if we head to the library, so I decided to quickly duck to Woolies for some groceries. I also grabbed a coffee to avoid bumping into those regular, overly enthusiastic rhyme time mums, but I couldn't drink it straight away because it was too hot. I didn't want to put it down in the holder in the pram so I just held it.

We headed off to the library after a good amount of time passed. But I did bump into all of the mums I was trying to avoid... while holding a coffee very close to my newborn.

M was climbing sofas instead of sitting next to me while I tried to read her a book. I forgot that I had my feeding cover in my bag and attempted to feed baby A under my jilbab, which proved to be difficult because she's still too little to just latch herself on straight away even without me looking. Ten minutes later I gave up trying to read to M and asked her if she wanted to play outside. After a few more 'no's she agreed to go outside. I somehow managed to get her to agree to go inside the shopping centre again, but she refused to get into the pram and kept getting distracted by everything, so I had to stop every metre and remind her to walk.

We eventually got inside the shops and M climbed onto one of those equipment that you need to pay for, except she doesn't know that it moves if you pay for it so I never pay. The longer she stays ignorant about this the better. By this time my mocha spilt everywhere and baby A had thrown up a bit on my jilbab but then fell asleep again in the wrap. So I was trying to clean my coffee cup so that I don't spill any on bub when I saw one of B's friends and his parents coming towards me. There I was in my too short abaya with pj pants showing, the content of my oversized bag spilling out onto the pram (this happened when I was trying to find some wipes to clean the coffee), jilbab with vomit on it, a sleeping bub very close to the vomit and coffee in hand, also very close to bub.

I survived the pleasantries without feeling too crappy about myself, miraculously. They were very nice people, but honestly could not have picked a worse day to bump into me.

There is way more to this day, and this was only midday at this point. Its 2.34 AM right now and I feel like a zombie. I'll be off to sleep. Maybe I'll type the rest up tomorrow. Maybe I won't.

Dear M

Dear M,

I miss you tonight. Here I am at my mother's house with your little sister for some much needed rest while you are with your dad and his family, and while I spent the day relaxing, working and being grateful that you are not here because I wouldn't be able to give time to you, I kept thinking about you. I kept thinking about your "mamma koi?" and "baby koi?", thinking that you probably miss us too.

You kick up a fuss before sleep these days. Your baby sister is only five days old and you have been too excited to sleep most of these five days. She came out at 4.10 PM in the afternoon and I spent the night at the hospital, my first night away from you. It made me sad to hear that you hung around downstairs, laying down in baby A's bassinet during bedtime, all alone. But it made me feel better to hear that you did eventually go up with your Abbu, do your bedtime routine and fall sound asleep.

I was at home with baby A by the next afternoon. It was a windy afternoon. You spent most of it with your Abbu again while I settled down. We had lots of people coming over that night. It was probably 10 PM before we headed upstairs for bed. But you were far too excited to sleep! You drove me crazy, but you also made me feel so, so grateful to have you as my daughter. "Mamma sad?" "Mamma cry cry?" "Mamma, hug!" "Baby ador!" "M___ help!" You are such a big blessing, little M. How can I ever be thankful enough that Allah has blessed me with such an insightful two year old?

That night, we finally fell asleep around 1.30 AM.

I was very sick the day after. It was raining very heavily outside, we were supposed to come and stay with my mum for a few weeks that day (lots of packing to do!), and I just couldn't stop my insides from coming out. You stuck by me most of that day I think. We finally did go down and have breakfast around 11 AM. After moving around super slowly, resting, packing and lots of feeds for A, we finally left for mum's around 4 PM. You stayed up till 1.30ish that night as well. You drove me a little crazy again, and I was beginning to wonder if this is what 'two under three' meant.

You went out with your Abbu to the library the day after. I missed you and then we had some quality time together. The next two days - you were at childcare, one of your favourite places, at your "teacher nanu basha". On Friday, you came home with gifts from your teacher nanu - a kitchen suitcase for yourself and some clothes for baby A. We had an interesting conversation that evening:
M: "suitcase kinte hobe" (need to buy suitcase)
Me: "kano suitcase kinte hobe?" (Why do we need to buy a suitcase?)
M: "A_____ babyr jonno, elephant suitcase! (For baby A, elephant suitcase!) M_____ blue suitcase, A_____ baby elephant suitcase!"

This wasn't the first time you surprised me with how quickly you adapted to your role of being a big sister.

You needed some cuddles this morning. And every time I said that you are going to your dadu's house for the day you said you wanted to stay with me. You are having fun there now, I'm sure (I checked!). And here I am, missing you, missing your hugs.

You make me so proud and humble me at the same time, because deep in my heart I know that I did nothing to deserve the sweet, wonderful little girl I have. You are not even two and a half, and I already need you so much more than you need me. I know that its such a big blessing that I cannot be thankful enough for. May Allah bless you in this world and in the next with ease, happiness, love and all the wonderfulness of Jannah.

With love that's way too much for my heart,

Ammi