Mooommy, what’s WRONG with you?
(It’s me imagining what he’s saying looking at me doing crazy, silly stuff)
Ramadhan is an eight-letter word.
And so is patience.
This Ramadhan, shamefully I did not manage to reap The rewards of praying Tarawih (special non-compulsory prayers observe only during the night of Ramadhan). I missed fasting for a number of days due to my nursing a two-month old baby.
But somehow I know this Ramadhan has taught me much on patience.
It’s not unusual for me to receive remarks from my family and friends (and even my husband) on how weird and exciting it is to see me becoming a mother – that shows how unmotherly I was back then. I was one selfish being who craves independence all the way, putting myself above the rest.
And this Ramadhan pushed me to become as selfless as I possibly could with a baby clinging to me (which means it gets harder to sneak around going shopping in between things) and a husband and household I am responsible and accountable for.
I am still getting the knack of living with an infant- which finds me resorting to reciting Quran only when expressing milk during office hours because I am normally exhausted by the time I reach home for iftar.
I long to attend lectures, refreshing my faith, but with a little boy it seems that an evening lecture could spell trouble due to his sleep schedule.
Not that I am whining. I appreciate this lesson I am being taught- it is priceless, a much- needed training for someone with my character.
I may not stand up observing prayers nightly as much as anyone else , but I am truly grateful for this custom-made training opportunity God has offered me.
May Allah accept my effort as good deeds and pour upon me more patience and energy to serve others.
I went down to the creche to nurse Isa, and everything was happy (we had our conversations two-way today) until he spat out the milk all over me.
And I had a meeting in five minutes.
And I’m sporting a black abaya today.
Ahh, I am sorry if anyone in the meeting is offended by how smelly I was.
Isa is playing hard to sleep.
My husband is against using a swing or a bouncer, so we ( read: he) needs to find an equipment-less way to do it – using my MIL’s gym ball!
I reckon this is what we call killing two birds with one stone: Daddy can exercise his leg bouncing a 6kg weight, and the little one, successfully sleeps.
We need to get one soon!
Isa wetted our bed this morning so I did not feel very sorry (as I would have) for waking him up on a Saturday morning to get him his hexa vaccination.
He was asleep when his name was called by his paed, so he was a bit fussy during examination and injection. Can’t blame him, it is his sleep time and somebody got the nerve to wake him up to a noisy rattle which he isn’t interested with.
Husband was great at putting him back to sleep I have to say, hence the photo above.
Notice his double (or maybe triple chin) – he gains 150g in a few days Alhamdulillah!
The made-in-10-minute mobile is such a hit with baby Isa – I should have known that!
He practically loves it, that with that thing hanging, breastfeeding becomes quite difficult because he keeps turning his head to see the mobile.
That thing has also left his dad deserted – Isa would rather spend time amusing himself than playing with his dad.
Regardless of us the parents being somehow neglected, that little thing has saved us so many times! We now could have our iftar (breaking fast) peacefully, and this morning while having our sahoor ( early morning meal) Isa was wide awake but quietly soothed by the mobile.
Those are really one of life’s little pleasure – now who needs another Fischer-Price?