Two little lips make fish kisses against my left cheek and a chubby fist reaches around to grab my right.
Allahu Akbar!
Looking down at Ivy’s delicious leg rolls, I can barely control the smile that breaks out on my face. She gooes in reply.
Allahu Akbar!
I’m back down in prostration to God, again receiving fish kisses against my cheek.
It’s the first time I’ve been able to pray in congregation all Ramadan — and it’s amazingly fulfilling to join everyone in the sunset worship.
But soon Eryn is running around us — pulling on headscarves and climbing on baba’s back. Our short dua’ after prayer is made even shorter to instruct Eryn on a better way to behave when the family prays together, and before I can even get into the rhythm of dhikr, I have to attend to a screaming Ivy who’s demanding her third meal of the evening.
If the fasters are disturbed by the noise of children, I don’t care. I spent the first week of Ramadan desperately trying to keep the babies quiet so the fasters could eat their date and pray the sunset prayer in peace. Then I’d pray after everyone started their iftaar — trying to concentrate on whatever peacefulness I could muster while attending to both girls. It was terribly isolating.
It’s hard feeling like you’re actually praying and not just going through the motions when you constantly have to keep your hyper toddler from smothering the baby. It’s hard practicing Ramadan when you’re not actually fasting.
Some say breastfeeding is a relationship. It has ups and downs and if it’s no longer working for one of the people involved, perhaps it’s time for a reevaluation.
Since day one I loved nursing Eryn. I had no “plan” as to how long we would nurse and one day I woke up to nursing a toddler. And I was okay with that. Then Ivy came along and I cried when Eryn cried for me — begging me to give the baby to Baba. So I nursed both.
So far I’ve been lucky with tandem nursing — both girls will nurse and fall asleep. It’s heaven having a couple of hours to myself to sleep, clean, or these days, read Qur’an. And with Eryn, we’ve gotten to the point where she nurses only 10 minutes before nap and bed time. I’ve always just followed her lead, and she’s accepted my suggestions when I’ve said we’re only going to nurse for one or two lullaby’s.
So maybe she’s weaning herself and I’m not the worst mother in the world.
There’s nothing I love more than anticipating the start of Ramadan. While perhaps every Islamic calendar month should be met with the same enthusiasm for sighting the moon, the special excitement that comes with such a physically challenging and spiritually rewarding time is yet another sign of this month’s many blessings.
When I was a young Muslim, we’d gather around a land line and wait for the call from friends who had an “in” at the local mosque. And once the mosque committee spotted the moon, or ruled when fasting would begin, we’d get the call. It was so much fun waiting for the announcement and searching online to see if San Fransisco or Nigeria had spotted the moon yet. It was even more fun discussing which countries followed Saudi, who went by scientific calculation and who still went outside as a community, engaging with the music of the spheres to search for the birth of the new moon.
As I got older and more and more communities decided to go the way of scientific calculation, the anticipation grew less and less. This year because Eryn is old enough to understand and look forward to the month of Ramadan, I was determined to make it special for her. So even though I knew the majority of Toronto decided the start of Ramadan over a week ago — we played ignorant.
The four of us waited for the sunset call to prayer (announced from the Hubby’s smart phone in his back pocket), and then ran to the windows to search for the moon. There were too many clouds to see anything — but Eryn was convinced the moon was there. Then after prayers, we celebrated the start of the blessed month with excited calls to family and special Ramadan Kettle Corn.
So no matter when Ramadan starts for you, Ramadan Mubarak! May everyone’s good deeds, intentions, fasts, kindnesses, prayers and efforts be accepted and rewarded.
Muslim street preacher Al-Haashim Kamena Atangana at the intersection of Yonge and Dundas in Toronto. (Terry Davidson/Toronto Sun)
So what is the media obsession with Muslims? Why is there such a need to discuss what’s under our burqas, or better yet, use ridiculous veil puns when speaking about Islam, Islamic law, Women in Islam, countries like Dubai or Iran, and of course, hijab? From fake fatwas on phallic vegetables to the threat of creeping shari’ah coming soon to a McDonald’s near you — whatever the story, the Media is sure to get a lot of play from Muslims.
Especially if they’re able to ridicule Muslims as a community, make underhanded racist comments, depreciate Islamic religious practices or promote xenophobic fear mongering.
Take for example the recent, unfortunate remarks made by Al-Haashim Kamena Atangana. This 33-year old convert and street preacher wrote an email to the Toronto Sun suggesting that Canadian lawmakers should, “introduce laws that would make it illegal for women to dress provocatively in the streets” in order to “help prevent sexual assaults from happening in the future.” Naturally, The Sun News Network sensed a winner and constructed a handful of articles, three expert video interviews, mirror articles in Canada’s major Sun-affiliated cities, and a HuffPo spot out of some guy’s random, illogical thoughts.
Within 24 hours, the Toronto Sun had interviews with Atangana — complete with delicious sound bites of him saying that women who dress provocatively are always at risk for rape, and that the Muslim women’s dress should be used as a model for protection. Because you know, blame for rape and sexual assault lies directly with the victim, not the perpetrator. And wearing modest clothing is going to magically protect you. Right.
Today we beat the heat by doing some crafts for Ramadan.
I have a closet full of pipe cleaners, sparkles, foam sheets, empty egg cartons, and other random, random things for Eryn to paste, stick and paint to her heart’s content.
I’m not sure what’s more fun, Ivy sucking in her sleep or the stickers that currently grace my kitchen cupboards.
Eryn is incredibly excited for the start of Ramadan — though I think her bright smiles and wide eyes are more for the anticipation of opening up her Ramadan advent calender. She knows daily treats are coming her way once we sight the moon — and she’s pulled out her favourite holiday book, Under the Ramadan Moon. Which thankfully isn’t so annoying to be read about 500 times a day.
Organic lollypops, mints, cranberries and more!
But now that iftaar is way past 9pm, how do you make sunset exciting for someone who is usually in bed when it’s time for all the food and fun family parties?
Decorate the house with homemade lanterns of course!
I gave her 10 minutes before she started batting them around like a cat. It took five.
ZOMG it’s a muslim roundup! I’m almost giddy with excitement. So much happened this past month that I barely know where to begin. There was the video game based off the infamous Salman Rushdie fatwa; Rush Limbaugh accused Hillary Clinton of having ties to the Muslim Sisterhood; and an Islamohomophobic fatwa hoax.
So grab a drink (or in my case, a baby. Yes, this was written one handed while nursing Ivy), curl up and enjoy!
1) Tired of finding Mecca by calculating north on your iPhone compass? Need a prayer upgrade to compliment your automatic wudu washer? Why not literally step into God’s presence illuminated by light-emitting diodes with the EL Sajjadah — a prayer mat that lights up when facing Mecca.
There are only two prototypes in existence. After manually inputting your location, a digital compass lets you know when you’re facing the Qibla. Grace your floor or your wall with the soft, green LED glow of piety.
Too bad manual input of location and digital compass is soooo 20th century. What we need is a prayer mat that counts rakats for you, or has a virtual presence so you can pray while sitting on the couch. Or better yet, has a wudu detector. That would be EPIC.
2) In a season marked by shorts, tank tops and liberation from oppressive and restrictive clothes celebrated with teeny weeny, yellow polka dot bikinis, you’re sure to see AT LEAST one article on how the hijab liberates women from the expectations of society.
But with so many people wondering if Muslim women are “hot in that thing?!” the media has graced us with just a few more articles this month:
A woman’s significance will always be rated by what she wears. Fighting against this, Ayesha Nusrat writes a personal piece for the New York Times on why she took on the hijab. Mix one part activist, one part belief, and two parts personal empowerment and you get, “I believe my hijab gives me the right to assert my body, femininity and spirituality as my own and under my authority alone.” Sing it sistah.
[WARNING: high blood-pressure inducing article ahead] Michael Coren has an unfortunate blub about a Quebec hijabi who was banned from playing soccer in his own weekly roundup. Erroneously stating that the “hijab is a Muslim Brotherhood-prescribed version of Islamic covering,” he gives soccer players two options: take off hijab or play for another league. Classy. Michael, I really didn’t think you had it in you.
…probably banned from playing soccer.
3) It’s almost Ramadan! This means tonnes of articles (re)surfing on how to get the most from your fast and how to stay healthy while reaching your spiritual goals.
One that really caught my eye is from Latonia’s wealth of breastfeeding information at her seriously fantastic blog, Suckled Sunnah. She has a great article with 27 tips on how to prevent burnout for those of us who choose to fast while breastfeeding. A truly supportive and excellent blog. Go check it out.
Don’t let the article’s accompanying photo fool you. He gives eight great tips, and didn’t know that this dejected hijabi isn’t suffering from low energy due to fasting. Good effort though!
4) Finally, as I said, it’s almost Ramadan! This means funny Ramadan meme time:
Men teach that a woman’s entire body is a part of the definition of nakedness — and thus, “for the sake of the Muslim Ummah and for her own good,” she should cover her entire body. Even her voice should not be beautified, lest it attract the poor, unsuspecting, pious male into entering sin. (source)
And this is why we need more public recitation, supplication and chanting by women. Because they are indeed, beautiful.
Hat tip to Hijabman for finding this awesome piece.
A rich merchant from the city desired to buy a horse. Knowing his money could buy the best of all worlds, he decided to travel deep into the pure desert to visit a poor Bedouin man famed for his piety.
The Bedouin welcomed the merchant warmly and inquired about his visit. “I want to buy a halal horse,” said the merchant.“Oh yes, I think I can help you,” smiled the Bedouin and led the merchant to his stable.
He brought out a beautiful stallion and exclaimed, “This is my most halal horse. To make it go you need only say, ‘Alhamdulillah.’ And to make it stop, you need only say, ‘la illaha illa Allah.'”
Amazed and impressed, the merchant paid the Bedouin and mounted the horse.
Sweeping his arm grandly to the heavens, the merchant pronounced, “Alhamdulillah!” And much to his delight, the horse began to walk. Excited, the merchant said it again, “Alhamdulillah!” and the horse began to trot. Giddy, he said it a third time, “Alhamdulillah!” and the horse began to gallop.
With each pronouncement the horse ran faster and faster — and the merchant lost himself in the joyful ride.
Soon however, the merchant noticed he was riding toward the edge of a cliff.
Proud of his purchase, he let the horse run a bit further. But the thrill of the ride made him forget the words to stop the horse. And he began to panic.
He grabbed the horse’s mane. Nothing happened.
He shouted, “Bismillah!” Nothing happened.
The edge of the cliff came closer and closer.
His heart pounded. He didn’t want to die!
He recited al-Fatiha, an-Nas, ayatul Kursi…
Nothing slowed the horse’s run.
The edge of the cliff came closer and closer, and now certain of his impending death, the merchant covered his face with his hands and cried out, “la illaha illa Allah!!!”
We’re in full summer swing at the wood turtle homestead — which means we’re not home all that often.
But when we are, we’re making egg carton caterpillars, listening to and acting out audio books (Munsch’s “Mud Puddle” is the current favourite), and trying to keep tantrums at bay while dealing with Eryn’s jealousy that’s manifesting in a gazillion demands.
Meaning I have to simultaneously supervise a craft, read a book, prepare a snack, and grab a glass of water — all while breastfeeding Ivy.
“Mama, how about you read me a book?”
Leaving me precious little time to simply sit down. Or in this one blissful moment — read my own book while enjoying the warm weather.
(yes, I’m a big fan of chubby legs)
And even though she’s acting out, Eryn truly does love Ivy — so much that she’s practically smothering her sister with kisses in an hourly, not-so-cute-oh-please-stop-kissing-your-sister-she-can’t-breathe kind of way.
At least Ivy gets her revenge with a herculean grasp reflex.
There’s little Eryn can do at this point.
With so much going on dealing with a new baby and keeping a toddler entertained (two-and-a-half going on three! When did my baby start growing up?), I can’t believe that it’s already July.
The summer is almost over and we just got started.
*huzzah* eh?
Hope everyone had a safe and happy Canada Day! And a very happy 4th of July to all of my readers south of the border.
Two little lips make fish kisses against my left cheek and a chubby fist reaches around to grab my right.
wood turtle 