With my dwindling health, it is now rare that we entertain at home. We’ve started taking each week as it comes. Since I don’t know which day will not be a good one, I try to keep the freezer stocked with precooked food. On my good days, I try to replenish the freezer and make sure the house is in order since we don’t know what tomorrow may bring. 

As frustrating as it is for me, it is not easy for my kids. It is definitely not easy for the hub either. But all three of them have been extremely patient and silently modified their lives to accommodate my needs. It would also be really unfair not to give credit to hub’s parents and aunts – they more than willingly babysit the kids when I need them to, they send food and above all, always call with prayers. 

The kids have perhaps grown up faster than they needed to, but are largely independent. They dress up themselves, have their own breakfast, change on their own and tidy up after themselves. They know when mum’s out of commission and automatically, pick up where I slack. I try to keep things going in a system so that on those days when I’m out of the picture, they are largely capable of handling themselves.

This weekend wasn’t a really good one. But I had already committed with a training and a baby shower – neither of which I felt I could do but since the headache was mild and nausea wasn’t bad, I popped in my stash of candy(or what Imran refers to my 9 daily medicines as) and pushed myself to plaster on a smile and enjoy.

On Sunday, my headache grew but I tried to clear out the laundry so the kids would have their uniforms ready. In the daily grind of parenting, it always helps to be ahead. Since N wouldn’t be back until Tuesday, I asked Imran to run to home depot so he could pick up some wood to reorganize our laundry room. I managed to get the laundry done, purged the kids toys, reorganized their baskets and was just done vacuuming when Imran called that he’d run into a friend and wanted to bring them over. 

No problem. We always enjoy good company.

The friend came over with his wife and three kids. I quickly fried two types of premade kababs, corn and put in a brownie to bake along with some chai. The mum took her kids and we went down to play. We were sitting and talking but the mum was clueless about her children’s whereabouts. The daughter was ripping out the stars from my walls, writing on my kids’ flashcards, wiping vaseline down my sofa, emptying the toy bins but the mom wouldnt look until i pointed it out. Come home time, she picked up her kids and left.

:O

Seriously?! After an entire day of dragging myself to prepare myself for the week ahead, the last thing I wanted to do was face this tornado. 

I have been an advocate of child free get togethers, but I don’t promote not visiting people with your kids. I take my kids out during the day, we have play dates and interact with friends. However, we don’t take kids out past their bedtime. We have had days when we had no babysitting, we took the kids to weddings but drove around till they fell asleep and let them stay asleep at the hall. If they woke up, we stayed and left before the kids had a meltdown. We pack cars, dinos, dolls or other toys and notepads with crayons to keep them busy. Its about keeping kids engaged and preventing them from being an annoyance to other people. We attend playdates but clean up before we leave. I admit, I’ve had days when I didn’t but after this visit, never again. 

My kids love having friends over. I have a friend who visits most weekends with her kids, but when she leaves, she makes sure the kids (hers and mine) put every single thing away. Although we chill, cook/eat and chat, she always keeps an eye on her kids. Her visit is never painful. 

Painful is watching kids running around way past their bedtime at weddings, causing premature wrinkles to cake through the bride’s stressed face. Painful is watching kids smear vaseline on my couch. Painful is cleaning up after guests. Painful is watching bins of unpicked toys. Painful is watching parents unknowingly instil bad social skills in their children. 

I’m a strong believer in the fact that friends enrich us. They make life’s experiences fun. They make us look prettier. They glam us up. What happens when they start pulling us down instead? Judging us. Psycho analyzing us. Guilt tripping us. Or better yet, not carrying their own weight but expecting us to carry them around too?

I’ve had it.

I’ve tried to give these relationships chances. Offered it my support. Sympathy. Visits. You name it. What happens when none of it is returned? When roles are reversed and there are a million justifications for why its ok for them to do the same thing? What happens when you see them making the effort at other people’s events, yet throw fits and excuses over the same issue at your events?

Distance. Perhaps, in a personalized adaptation, the age old adage of it making the heart grow fonder is indeed true. Maintain the distance, spare yourself the double standard? Perhaps this way the love will stay.

When did my baby turn into this big girl?  My little girl whose been such an easy breezy part of our life that we are almost certain we must have done something good in our life to deserve her.

Alhamdolillah, we have been really blessed to have Hana in our lives. Perhaps because of her being the second child, her accomplishments get shadowed by her brothers accomplishments. While Eesa’s achievements have always been a milestone, Hana’s have been almost as natural as winking. This is my little girl who got up and started to walk, actually run, at 8 months. The one who was so focussed and determined in everything that she did that I didn’t even notice it before she started to read and write. My little princess, yes the very same who, while I was dreading the onset of potty time, potty trained simply because I didnt have diapers and Imran had taken the car.

Yes, as simple as that. No first day of school fear or apprehension against a teacher who looms larger than life . My lil Hanoo dressed in her white and blue uniform, hair pulled back into a ponytail grabbed her teachers hand and confidently walked into her class. I’m glad she didn’t turn back because she’d have seen me nervous and apprehensive. Biting away my nails, bbm’ing her equally nervous but proud Dad.

I kept coming back to see a nervous or even a worried look. But alas! despite being a december baby and one of the youngest in her class, she was holding her forte with two of her friends – confidently playing, jumping and laughing around. Innocent, budding friendships that I hope will offer lasting support and companionship.

Perhaps, the best and worst of Hanoo’s passage to to school is the powerful reminder of time. My munchkins are growing up and a new grade is a non-negotiable reminder of the fleeting nature of childhood. As they face the new school year with great excitement and an irrepressible sense of hope, I stand reminded. And so very grateful.

ps. She came home crying because her teacher didn’t send any homework for her. Seriously, whose child is she?!

-=-=-=

I’ve always emphasized to the kids not to mix playdoh or paint colors with each other. I’ve explained the impact of wasting them, about creating waste, about displeasing Allah etc.

I recently bought her a book about brain teasers. One of the questions was about secondary colours.

Me: “Hana, when you mix red and orange, what do you get?”

Hana: “Gunnah!” (sin)

hehe

“Hana: When I grow up, I will be a princess

Eesa: No Hana, its not fun to be a princes

Hana: Why not?

Eesa: “Because to be a princess you need to first build a castle.”

Hana gives an excited smile and Eesa goes on,  “Then you need ALOOOOT of money. Baba and I don’t have that much money. Plus you need to marry a baby King and if you do anything wrong, the king will punish you – like really big punishment.”

Hana: “that’s ok I will marry Baba and make him the king”.

Eesa: *smacks his forehead*

I couldn’t agree more.

I have family that I can be totally at crazy with it. I have family with whom I’m reserved. I have friends with whom I can be out of touch for years but can connect instantaneously. On the other hand, I have friends that I shared a portion of my life with but could never be at ease with them.

Likewise, I have my life sorted in little space boxes. My family space. My friend space. My kids with hubby space. My kids without hubby space. My hubby without kids space. I have certain things that I like to do in each box that I would never do in other spaces. Yes, I know its complex.

Then I have my future boxes. My future education box. My future life without kids at home box. My future house box. Sometimes, when I describe my dream house to Imran, the details and descriptions really scare him. In my mind, I have the perfect settings for every scene. My crafts room with an island table for homework and family projects; closet with hangers which hold my projects in super sized ziplocs, drawers with ribbons and paints and canvasses and, and, and..! My lilac laundry room with white cabinets and white ironing board. My backyard, with a deck that isn’t connected to the house, but floating in the middle.  My study room with a full wall of slanted black bookshelves and red couches with abstract cushions and white lampshades. My family room with a projector wall, surround sound, a percolator, matte finished multi coloured mugs, with an entire section dedicated to board games. My bedroom with a step DOWN bed and white linen and white curtains and white carpet (and of course a steam machine to clean all of that!).

Then I have people boxes. And we can blame social work for this. I have boxes of people who seem genuine. People who love to name/brand drop. People who need the frills in everything they do. People who really don’t give a crap and take u for who u are.

Its a sorted life, huh!

Hana: I’m winning weight!

-=-=-=-=-

Eesa: I’m a Knight!

Hana: I’m Morning!