Recently, Eryn has been asking a lot of questions about God, heaven, and death. I think it’s her way of trying to put together some concepts that are floating around her periphery — God lives everywhere and is in everything, people, plants and animals die, and where we go after death.

We’ve had some pretty interesting discussions and I was lucky to catch one on audio. So here’s the second installment of our unofficial “podcast.” Ivy is having her hair dried with a hairdryer so there’s a little background noise — and I’m at the stove making pancakes. Yes, I do indeed drop one while flipping it in the air and you can hear me waffling trying to answer some of her amazing questions:

Why are we going back to heaven?

How did God make us?

Won’t we miss our home because heaven is a long ways away?

Can you ask God if he can take all of the people to Queen’s Land?

It’s quite the apt weekend snapshot of the wood turtle homestead, without all of the usual chaos.

Fer sure, eh?


eryn_lakeHello Sweetie,

For the first time in forever, you let me sing you to sleep.

Your head is resting on my lap, your arms hold two stuffed animals I slept with as a child, and I’ve had the most amazing fifteen minutes reliving cherished moments of your infancy while running my fingers through your now four-year-old hair.

I can’t believe how much you’ve grown and how independent you’ve become over the past year. You insist on going to the bathroom all by yourself and are fully capable of everything — from turning on the light when you start, to washing your hands when you’re done. You enjoy dressing yourself and making up elaborate games while you play on your own. You ride a scooter and a bike. By yourself. You make up songs and recite Qur’an when you think no one is watching. You play with your sister and take care of the smaller kids at school. You are extremely thoughtful and caring.

You’re usually very friendly and chatty with everyone we meet. And if there are times you don’t want to speak to a stranger, I give you the autonomy to say no and hide behind my leg. It’s okay, you don’t always have to smile and perform for others. Especially when you don’t want to.

But when you do, you’re hilarious and strangely brilliant. You love telling jokes, like:

Knock, knock!
Who’s there?
Doctor Who?
Ooooh weeeee-oooooh! Weeeee ooooh-weeeeee!

And the other day you told me the moon is cold, like ice — that if anyone touches it, they’ll freeze their hand. When I said, “surely the moon must be made of cheese,” you corrected me and said with absolute certainty, “It is cold. The moon is a rock where you can fly and jump forever. But you can die up there.” Now, I know I didn’t teach you that.


Eryn is sick.

She very unfortunately brought back a couple of friends with her from Kuwait. A couple of very nasty friends. It started while we were boarding the plane home. Literally, just as our boarding passes were being scanned from Kuwait City to Washington, I looked down to see Eryn shaking all over — and I didn’t need a thermometer to know she was spiking a high fever. Luckily the explosion of bodily fluids didn’t happen until we were on the ground at Toronto.

sick Eryn

Sleeping while in the care of her gracious aunt.

It’s been a pretty hectic week-and-a-half with multiple trip to doctors’ offices, lab drop-offs, the constant laundering of soiled linens, emergency runs for medicine and gatorade and trying to entertain Ivy while quarantining Eryn in the bathroom. We don’t know where she contracted the bacteria — but I can’t wait until they leave. Alhamdulillah today she really started responding positively to her meds.

We’ve had amazing support from family and friends. The fantastic Shireen Ahmed, who blogs about all things football and badass muslimah, came over WITH COFFEE, presents, and read books to Ivy while I bathed a miserable Eryn. And my fabulous sister-in-law has been nothing but amazing — entertaining the girls so I can disinfect the house, and took over for a few hours on Thursday for me to take a breather.

Uncle Alice Cooper and my billion dollar baby.

Uncle Alice and my billion dollar baby.

Isn’t this just the most fantastic family portrait you’ve ever seen?

You might be aware that I am a massive fan of Alice Cooper. I had the upmost pleasure in meeting him at FanExpoCanada during my breather, grabbing a signature, and of course, memorializing the event at a planned photo opportunity. He went absolutely mushy over Ivy and spent some time playing with her feet, gushing over her cookies, and giving me the ultimate fan experience by just being his classy, normal and friendly self. I’m still in a bit of shock.

And then again on the weekend, the spectacular Oma and Opa took over care of Eryn so that the Hubby and I could celebrate our anniversary by doing a little Steampunk cosplay and spending a short afternoon at the Expo trying to catch a glimpse of Hulk Hogan, Carrie Fisher, and of course, Colin Baker, the sixth doctor.

And among all the Stormtroopers, Daleks, anime characters, and Batmans, I found this fabulady:

Oh hai. I’m just a super fabulous niqab-wearing fan because I’m AWESOME.

After a quick introduction I asked what the eyepatch was all about and she explained that while she was dressed as herself, the patch was to pay hommage to her favourite anime character, Hatake Kakashi. It’s so much fun when one’s hijab easily turns into a bit of cosplay. Such a cool lady and a pleasure to meet.

Baby steampunk!

Baby steampunks!

I didn’t go all out this year with the costume — but it was impressive enough to get more than a few photo requests. And Ivy became fast friends with a couple of really sweet steampunk girls who made their costumes. Made. Their. Own. Costumes.


The rest of the weekend was spent holed up in bed, reading and singing to Eryn. Hopefully she’ll be well enough to attend Muslimfest next weekend — she deserves a little fun on a bouncy castle.

On stewardship and spirituality:

Oma: Oh, don’t pick the flowers sweetie. Didn’t I tell you that we have to take care of the Earth?
Eryn: Yes, Oma! Allah is in everything. He protects Ivy and me.

The accidental joke:

Me: So, what’s your favourite season?
Eryn: I like Autumn the best because I always like to take a trip.
Me: A trip?
Eryn: I always fall.

On developing interpersonal skills: 

Eryn: Hi! My name is Eryn, do you want to play?
Endearingly snobbish girl: I’m five years old. I’m taller than you.
Eryn: …
Eryn: ….
Eryn: I’m a boy.


Me, elbow deep in a dirty diaper: ERYN! Can you please pass me a wipe?
Eryn: I’m busy!
Me: ERYN! Help me, please! Quick before your sister gets it all over the bed!
Eryn: Ask Rocky Mountains.
Me: Who?
Eryn: Rocky Mountains. My imaginary friend.
Me: Oh for crying… never mind.

All-around awesomeness

Eryn, overhearing some mall muzak: What’s that song?
Me: Hmmm? Oh, that’s the Red Hot Chilli Peppers.
Eryn: *laughing uncontrollably*
Me: What? Do you like that name?
Eryn: *giggling* Chilli Peppers! I want a band name when I grow up.
Me: And what would you call yourself?
Eryn: TARDIS Girl and the Superheroes!

Subconscious empathy:

A half-asleep, probably dreaming Eryn: Mama, I need water!
Me: Here you go…
Eryn: It’s empty!
Me: No sweetie, turn the cup so you can drink from the spout…
Eryn: IT’S EMPTY!!
Me: Would you like me to get you another cup?
Eryn: Maybe just blow a kiss. But do it ever so quietly so not to wake Ivy.

*falls asleep*


For the second year now, the awesome writers over at Muslimah Media Watch take a break during Ramadan to lay off the media analysis and instead share some Ramadan Reflections. I’ve added my voice to this collection of personal stories, memories and experiences, and am cross-posting here as well. Enjoy!


Eryn and Ivy’s Ramadan lanterns, treat bags, and advent calendar.

Thick tendrils of white smoke curl around my fingers as I add more bukhoor to the incense burner. Nasheed music wafts softly from the living room, creating a calm, somber atmosphere. My children have just come back from the balcony, certain that the new moon made her appearance despite heavy storm clouds. We smile at each other and lovingly embrace in a group hug — the girls wishing me a good fast before heading off to bed.

At least, that’s how I imagined we would welcome the blessed month of Ramadan.

Instead, we shattered the quiet, reflective time of maghrib by shaking glow sticks in the dusk, blowing noise makers and jumping up and down. We got high off too many dates — the natural sugars making sure my children bounced off the walls until three hours past their bedtime.

Unconventional for some, but amazing to usher in Ramadan with true abandon and joy.

This is the first year that I’m fasting with my daughters Eryn and Ivy — and I’m doing it solo. The Hubby is currently working in the UK, my Muslim family has returned to Kuwait for the summer, I’m unmosqued from the closest community in my area, and while I’ve previously adjusted to the isolation caused by not fasting due to pregnancy or breastfeeding, I’ve never had to fast alone on top of experiencing a little single parenting.

Caring for two young children is all-consuming. Every moment of their day is meticulously planned, so I can hopefully get them into bed in time for me to break my fast and find an hour to work on my own spiritual goals. Sure, we normally have a schedule, but I rely a lot on the respite gained from passing off the kids to their father. There is barely enough time for me to perform the bare minimum requirements of prayer — let alone engage in the extra acts of devotion normally associated with Ramadan. Literally every second of my day is dedicated to talking, singing, and moving for the benefit of the kids.

Breakfast, dress-up, laundry, park, picnic, nap, splash pad, craft time, cooking, dinner, clean-up, bath, play and bed — doesn’t leave much time for extra worship, Qur’an, or blogging for that matter.

So since I’m outnumbered, I’m learning to experience Ramadan like a child. And that means creating Ramadan spiritual activities that suit the three of us. In doing so, I’m honing and reframing my worship into small, manageable, mind-blastingly fun snippets — in the hopes of encouraging the Ramadan spirit and nourishing my soul in the process. Something that’s a complete departure from the usual austere attitudes and seriousness that I usually apply to increasing my imaan.


Happy Ramadan everyone! Whether you’re observing through fasting, prayer, good deeds, reading, unplugging from social media, charity, yummy food, mosque hopping, all of the above, or none — may the month bring you joy, fulfillment, knowledge and self discovery.

I wish the path to self discovery was as effortless as holding hands in rainbow pin-stripped dresses.

I wish the path to self discovery was as effortless and whimsical as holding hands in rainbow pin-striped dresses.

I am woefully, woefully behind on my Ramadan prep. The Hubby took off early last week for more business in Reading — so I’ve been busy with the girls and somehow things just got away from me.

Now it’s the day before the first fast of Ramadan and nothing is ready. (Hubby starts Wednesday, in-laws are already fasting — but I made my intention to follow ISNA well before I found out the rest of Toronto is fasting on Wednesday too. Oops.)

A new calendar filled with clues to treats... that I don't have yet.

I did manage to make a new calendar filled with clues to treats… that I don’t have.

I don’t really have any decorations up and all of the treats, games and events I’ve promised the girls in their daily Ramadan Advent Calendar have yet to be organized. Big time #mommyfail. My plan was to decorate the apartment tonight, but unfortunately, Toronto and surrounding areas were hit with several flash floods and power outages.

So while I intended to come home in time for maghrib and welcome Ramadan with dates, prayer and some incense — I instead wished Eryn and Ivy a Happy Ramadan in the stairwell while climbing 23 floors. Twice. Alhamdulillah, we’re safe and the power is back on, but for a while the only water we had in the house was a small jug of zamzam.

And thank God for that. There’s definitely blessings in small miracles — and a huge lesson in emergency preparedness.

Meh. It's a rite of passage.

Craft time casualty. It’s a rite of passage.

Actually, taking care of the girls at this age by myself has taught me so very much. They miss their Baba terribly — even Ivy gets excited to hear his voice over the phone and she “speaks” to him emphatically about the location of her nose and belly, and the sounds made by elephants and monkeys. But despite missing him, I think they’re enjoying the non-stop girl party. They’re at a really good age where they can both interact and play with each other constructively. Tantrums are down to a minimum and I’ve actually managed to get them into bed at decent times.

We have a really good rhythm going that involves lots of outdoor time and craft activities — and I think it’s the only way I’ll be able to handle them while fasting on my own.

It’s been a whirlwind month with family visits, end-of-school assemblies, speaking engagements and stopping to enjoy the sunshine. The local splashpads are now open and we’ve been frequenting parks instead of being cooped up inside after dinner.

I love that the sun sets around 9pm — though, try to explain daylight bedtime to an almost four-year-old who insists she doesn’t need to sleep while the sun is still up. Now that school is out, and Ramadan is around the corner, I’m sure both kids will get to stay up later and later until I just let them pass out on their own.

photo 5 (7)

Happy Canada Day!

Today we took advantage of all things free to celebrate Canada’s birthday. Second Cup was giving away free Italian Sodas, and we couldn’t pass up free bouncy castles, face painting and entertainment at Queen’s Park.


Colour coordinating hijab to a natural phenomenon is key.

In the past week we’ve played the tourist to squeeze in as much fun as we can before my in-laws wrap up their time here and return to Kuwait. I love that Ivy is at the age where she’s recognizing and reacting to new sights. The mist from the falls tickled her nose and she pointed wildly at the tour boat in the distance. She’s a great people watcher too and is quite happy just to sit in her stroller and watch people stride by.


Leave the city to take a picture of… the city.

We also took the family out to see the Toronto beaches for a relaxing afternoon. But I think I have to cut back on the Zombie films. I couldn’t help but imagine an emergency escape and survival plan when boarding the ferry-boat. While we were surrounded by hundreds of people slowly shuffling into the boat, I marked the quickest route to the top deck and tried to spot a fire axe. Then I stopped and realized that it just wasn’t worth it unless I knew all the variables — like whether or not they were fast or slow-moving zombies, or if they could swim.

Don’t worry, I don’t do this often.


Teaching the girls how to eat white clover.

In other news, Ivy no longer has to worry about gumming her food. Masha’allah, she’s popped out four teeth at once! And Eryn has turned into quite the storyteller and conversationalist. She held a symposium last week and invited everyone to take turns to speak about their favourite colours, seasons and what makes them feel frustrated. She then formed an all-girl rock band called, “TARDIS-girl and the Superheroes.” Honestly, where does she get this stuff? Now all that’s left to do is make sure she takes up letter writing, cursive and knitting and my brainwashing training will be complete.

My apologies for the lack of posts over the past two weeks (goodness that’s a long time)! Life is busy and things are about to get busier. Let me first tell you that posting regularly will start NOW. I have a bunch of posts ready to come out this week and an exciting giveaway to boot!

Secondly, apologies for any confusion this past weekend. Thanks to a wordpress curiosity, a really old post went out as new to my subscribers. Let me assure you that I’m insha’Allah not pregnant again — but thank you so much for all the messages and comments.

Finally, a little bit of exciting news: we’re hopefully, if everything aligns correctly, plans pan out, will probably, most-likely, fingers-crossed, insha’Allah moving across the Pond for a bit. In other words, we’re taking a work opportunity to live in the UK for a month or more. *squeal!*

So what have we been up to the past two weeks?


Dance, puppets! DANCE!

When not teething, going to engagement parties, visiting new babies, seeing old friends, looking for pre-schools, or making Easter crafts, we’ve been doing laundry. I don’t know why, but there seems to be a lot more of it these days. Maybe I’m gearing up for a spring cleaning.

I’ve been trying to lose the last of the pregnancies weight, so Ivy and I make a lot of trips to a nearby gym where she runs around while I watch her. If I’m lucky, I can get 20 minutes of cardio before sucking on a lime just doesn’t cut it for her anymore, and we have to do something more fun for her (yes, she joyfully sucks on limes). Which is fine by me. Really.

She’s going to start walking tomorrow, so I’m pretty sure I’ll be running after her before long.


Great grandmother c.1945 somewhere on the plains of Saskatchewan.

News of a distant relative from a lost branch of the family tree came my way so I decided to look through some our old photos for nostalgia’s sake. I’ve previously written about my family connection to Beirut and love going through the physical reminders of my ancestry. There’s something almost spiritual about holding an old photo, feeling the delicate cardboard frame disintegrate ever so slightly at the touch of a finger, and then instagramming it for future reference.

Plus, you gotta love her smile.


We come for the books and stay for the toys.

It’s still not warm enough to take the kids to the park. Well, not really — but they’ve been sick, and I’m kind of old fashioned about taking sick kids outdoors when it’s not above 14 degrees Celsius. So instead, I take them to where all the other parents take their snotting, coughing, sneezing children: The Library.

It’s probably why they keep getting sick.



Well, we’re officially back home (for now). There’s a good chance that I might jump on the next available flight and head back down south — especially since within 48 hours of returning home, Eryn is sick once again. We’ve been battling several strains of flu and cough between myself and the girls for over two months, and fever-sharing is getting a bit tiresome.

Alhamdulillah, our brief trip to the beach was a literal God-send. A girls-only trip saw the babies frolicking in azure waves and absorbing some much needed vitamin D. I enjoyed people watching and digging my feet into the sand — and had a fascinating chat with a Tartar woman from Moscow about the modesty logistics of combining her bikini with hijab.

photo 2 (7)

Hands free, in-sling nursing means more time to work on my hand tan.

And while the sun and humidity (temporarily) drove away snotty noses and up-all-night coughs — it’s only a matter of time before we’re enjoying a muggy and bright Toronto summer. The geese are pairing up, which means spring is around the corner, and I’m looking forward to packing away the winter hijabs.

photo 3 (5)

Zero degrees! It’s practically flip flops and shorts weather.

Has anyone read Alif the Unseen? I’m thoroughly enjoying it and would love to have a book club if anyone is interested. It’s fascinating partly because of all the familiar computer lingo, partly the familiar Gulf/Bedouin landscapes, and partly the fantastical Jinn elements — but I am most definitely enjoying reading a Muslim work of fiction that quotes the Quran and unapologetically swears like a sailor.

Screen shot 2013-03-11 at 10.07.54 PM

After smirking at Little Blue Men, it’s refreshing to be terrified of Jinn.

Ivy is standing on her own more often these days and it’s just a matter of time before she’s running circles around Eryn. Just yesterday I was commenting to the Hubby that our little baby is growing up way too fast. She’s so sweet and happy and I’d love for her to be like that forever. Poor Eryn is going through another jealousy phase and consistently orchestrates role-playing where she’s a “little sister” and I, as the “big sister,” have to take care of her like a little baby. She’ll cry, whine, drink “num-nya” from my elbow or knee and make all sorts of perceived baby demands. All. day. long.

Since today was a sick day stuck inside, we played “little sister lion” and “big sister lion” — you know, just to shake things up.

photo tiger

Working on our fierce, growling lion impersonations.

Just a little chaos under the story tent.

Just a little chaos under the story tent.

An ant runs screaming as the ground around her shakes with a boom, boom, BOOM. Suddenly her cries are overheard and a great king yells, “stooOOOOoop” to his advancing army. Then, with a wry look on his face and a goofy edge to his voice, he points wildly to the ground saying, “There’s an anthill! We have to go around.”

The army changes pace and chants “oh wee oh” like the witch’s guards in the Wizard of Oz — much to the delighted giggles and coos of Eryn and Ivy.

At certain times throughout the day, we have Blue Meanies, grandiose Kings and Queens, Jinn, and honoured Qur’anic historical figures marching, singing, running and dancing under the “story tent” (made from a decorative scarf hanging over the bed).

I’ve been wanting to write them down, not only to keep them for the girls’ memory books — but also because they’re really fun to tell. But they’re never told the same way twice, and you can’t quite capture spontaneous goofy voices or the girls’ reactions to my antics in a random blog post.

So I recorded one for kicks.

It’s a little reserved because we were conscious of the voice recorder, and Eryn politely sat through the story just to hear herself say, “BLAH BLAH BLAH” at the end. So I’d say this is only a small example of our story time. A story time that is often chaotic and funny and that doesn’t always have all the historical facts correct — but at least is making the Qur’an and seerah accessible and entertaining for my kids.

Here’s a quick story about the first revelation to the Prophet Muhammad. And if you have any, I’d love to hear about other techniques, songs or stories making the Qur’an fun.

(Also, OMG, it’s my voice!)

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