Today I am Grateful For..

1. A baby boy who is becoming more and more independent everyday.
2. A baby Girl who is still so dependent on me that it takes my breath away.
3. The lovely breeze from my kitchen window when i sit down for my morning cup of tea.
4. A good Internet connection and time to browse.
5. One of the best desserts I have ever had..its sweet but not too much and absolutely delightful...its called Kunafa.

A change of heart ??

Today marks a memorable day in my parenting world. Last night when I was dealing with once-uncommon-but lately-very frequent, bout of insomnia, I changed the wallpaper in my profile to a picture of my baby girl. No big deal!! You say?? Well for me it is a big deal…..its a momentous occasion, a disloyalty to my undying love for my boy. I never could have thought, never could have imagined in my wildest dreams that I was capable of loving anyone even an echelon more than I love that person. It was just not happening. Yet it took my baby girl just 7 months to win me over and by GOD she has finally won me over, through her sweetness as apposed to her brother’s fierce, headstrong, willful self. Once, when I saw my friend (equally taken with her first-born) change the wallpaper on her mobile to a picture of her second son, I was dismayed, appalled even. It seemed like a treachery of epic proportions, a how-could-you moment!! I am at the same point in my life and I love every minute of it. My heart sure is big enough for two, maybe even more. Now all I have to do is make sure I hide the mobile from aun, I don’t want to break her heart na!!!

My addiction

I am addicted to my children...there I have said it. I understand that this emotion, this admittance is frowned upon in our cultural setup. I understand that mothers are supposed to MOTHER only, as a chore, a very very tough chore. Mothers are not supposed to glean anything out of this experience, not supposed to have fun much less satiety for their addiction. Tauba tauba what kind of mother would even think of such a thing...umm well my kind of mother :)
I feel that two people make motherhood complete, the child and...you guessed it..the mother!! And it seems horribly unfair that only one half of the equation enjoys all the perks and the mother side of the equation has to wait till the day of judgment for her jannat to materialize...totally unfair I say. So I enjoy my kids to the fullest..I will hug them tight even when they desperately want to wriggle out of my grasp, I will chomp on puffy thighs even if that means indignant cries from the victim and I will tickle my child till he laughs so much that it begins to hurt him. This is my price for waking up nights with them and frankly it seems fair enough to me. I will do all of these things because I want my jannat now. See I am not sure about the day of judgment...my bad will most likely outweigh the good.

Today I am grateful for

*For having parents who are there to help..in every possible way
*Auni back to his spunky mazeydaar self
*gradig almost done
*Packing mess almost sorted
*the way the new black boots look on Ayjoo's chubby fluffy feet
*that iv finally learned how to make rotis..a feat I thought was beyond my capabilities.

A non-stick solution for my heart

Sometimes I so wish for a Teflon coating for my heart or maybe just plain old non-stickiness that will ensure that nothing whatsoever EVER sticks to the surface. I am one of those unlucky few who cannot NOT anything to heart. I beat myself up for things that I know are beyond my control or even my imagination.
Last night I was up for a long long time wondering, worrying, obsessing about the people who have had to leave their homes in Swat. People we are calling IDPs are people just like us with their own cozy corners in their homes, their kitchens stocked with their favorite food, their family pictures hanging on the walls, their kids favorite blankie, their toys left behind.
When I think about packing up my house for my soon-to-begin journey, I can’t decide what to leave behind. I know that my house is safe, my memories are safe and that I will soon be back, and yet I want to wrap up everything and take it with me. My hard is aching for the people who did not have the luxury to mull over this choice, who did not have the time to pick n choose, who in order to be safe had to just get up and leave, leaving years worth of memories behind.

Random Musings

My girl has a bad throat. She coughs and sneezes and her whole body shakes with the impact. She tried cooing in the morning but all that came out was a mere croak. I wish I had a camera on hand to capture the utter look of surprise on her face when she realized what she had heard was her own voice.
Last night when my boy snuggled up to me for his bedtime story, he rested his head on my shoulder and said “anni ko sab sey paree ami lagtee hain….aur chota baby aur baba….aur…..hmmmm….aur…..basss”. In that one sentence, he undid the affect of a week’s worth of tantrums and time-outs, and I thought to myself, maybe I am not totally screwing up this parenting gig.
I have lost a couple pounds in the last two weeks, nothing major I know but didnt do anything drastic either, just watched what I ate. To reward myself, I had a paratha for breakfast, a crunchy crispy layered paratha slathered with desi ghee.............ummmmmmmm heaven on a plate...also heart attack and obesity!!!

People Pleasing

It is the absolute superlative form of spontaneously replicating dissatisfaction. I am a recovering people pleaser and i know what i am talking about.

Joy

Your toddler, warm with fever, tossing and turning in bed suddenly turns to you, buries his head in your neck, gives you a sloppy kiss and goes right back to sleep.
******************************
You wake up in the morning to a cuddly cherub smiling up to you from her cot, all the while cooing so as to entice you to pick her up.When you do pick her up, her joy literally figuratively knows no bounds, she jumps and squeals and coos some more.

Sweet Dreams

Whenever I dress my kid in an onesie, I am immediately reminded of the image of a dead child dressed in a white onesie, his cuddly lifeless body being held up in the air as a protest against the Israel attacks on Beirut last year. The child was only 1 when he met his death right there in his crib. Oh, how I wish the death came like a soft cloud to him, tickling him, all the while murmuring sweet lullabies to him.
Sweet Dreams sweet baby....you are in a much better, much kinder world.

7 Sure- fire ways to piss me off

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I am a Muslim and I am proud of that

Last night I came across a news piece in a newsletter published by Church World Services called “Afghanistan 2001- year of despair and Hope”. The piece said that Taliban’s religious police have asked local hindus to carry yellow stickers so as to differentiate them from Muslims. The demand is meant to save hindus from harassment, but frankly that sounds like a laughable excuse. This reminds me of the anti-Semitic actions of Hitler in Germany, where notices saying "Jews not admitted" and "Jews enter this place at their own risk" were displayed at various public places and Jews were banned from public parks, swimming-pools and public transport.
How is the religious extremism being propagated by the so called “upholders of Sharia” and “demolishers of vice” different from the anti-Semitic practices of Hitler. The blessed Taliban have actually taken it to a whole new level because in order to qualify for the position of “kafir” in their eyes, you don’t even need to be a hindu. You can simply walk out of the house without a burqa or be caught taking a swig from a Pepsi can and Lo and Behold….you are a certified Kafir.

This is heart-breakingly sad (is that even a word??) at so many levels. I want to teach my kids to love Islam as the religion that is based on love and compassion and benevolence, the religion that recognizes and respects you for what you are. A way of life that gently nudges you to follow the true divine path but doesn’t judge you or kill you if you don’t follow that path, partially or fully. I want to know, and to know with surety that in being a muslim, I am a better person, a more humane person, i want to be proud of being the follower of Muhammad. And I will not let the likes of Sufi Muhammad rob me off my pride, No i will not!!!!

The two sides of a coin

I look at my 6 months old being treated like a rag doll by her elder brother; her delicate body being hurled and tossed, I see that nary a feature changes form and I wonder about the resilience of human body.
I look at the liberty attack footage; the traffic warden who takes one single shot in the chest, his tall proud frame crumbles to the ground like a wax statue, and wonder about the fragility of human body.