However, now that I know what it’s like to be a parent, I know that I am far from fulfilling the entire potential that our relationship can hold. The prophet (S) has likened the mercy that Allah has towards us to the mercy a mother has toward her child, except multi-fold more bountiful. Yet, have I really understood what that means? How His mercy permeates every aspect of my existence? I couldn’t even begin to comprehend that analogy without becoming a mother first; I thank Allah for that blessing.

So, to help develop a deeper connection with Allah and to truly appreciate Him, subhanahu wa ta’ala, I am trying to draw analogies to my strong connection with my daughter. I try to draw from my love for her, love for Him and then some. When I feel the yearning to be near to her, I work to cultivate that same yearning to be near to Him. I caught myself thinking the other day, I hope my children will look back at my life and be proud of me. But, what about Allah? In practice, I have yet to passionately want Him to be pleased with me and proud of me in a similar way as with my parents and daughter.

My goals may be attainable if I work on them alone, but I figure why do that when I have an entire household to support me? In order to proactively strengthen our relationship as a family with Allah, I have been trying to infuse an awareness of Him in our daily activities. When my daughter and I struggle to climb the stairs while carrying our groceries, we call out to Him using His beautiful names; ya Allah, ya Kareem, ya Gafour, ya Shakour! When we find ourselves stuck in traffic we ask Oh Allah, ya Fattah, open the road for us! And when we find a favorite toy has been misplaced, we supplicate to Him, Oh Lord of all things, and Guider. Return to us our missing train.  In this way we are striving to place Allah center stage in our lives, and learning to put our trust in Him and have tawakkul in the process.

Dalal Kanan

Dalal is currently a chemistry graduate student who, above all, loves being mom to a lovely 2 year old.

Growmama Picks is a collection of fun, interesting, and/or inspiring links that we share with you at the end of every month. Enjoy!

1. An amazing project by one of Growmama’s organizers. We can think of dozens of reasons why we should start this in our own neighborhoods. Tomorrow.

2.Many moms have trouble finding things for their toddler or not-yet-in-school child to do at home. The educational and bonding activities in this book are brilliant in their simplicity and ease–no elaborate crafts or messy clean-ups here.

3. This lecture and article by Nouman Ali Khan identifies some critical conversations we should have with our teens about faith.

4. “Emotional throw-up” should become a household term wherever young children are present.

5. On the topic of some of our posts this month, here and here are some of the healthiest foods we should be eating. We’re clueless, though, and a little queasy, at the thought of sardines.

6. Fetal cells become part of the mother forever. This made us pause and think… subhanallah.

7. Here is an elegantly illustrated storybook to complement a child’s learning of the Prophet’s stories. The book is written from the point of view of animals, trees, rocks, and other objects from the seerah.

8. For a child turning 7 or 10 and working on performing his or her prayers, this wooden prayer chart (plus an alarm clock!) would be a sweet gift.

Yesterday, I took my girls to shop for fruit and vegetables, and at the end got touched, not by an angel, but by a human. I had paid for all my groceries, and had parked my cart by the bars right outside the market, and as usual asked the girls to stand by the cart while I take the bags to the car in two or three trips, since the bars don’t allow us to take the carts to the car and I can’t carry everything at once and hold the girls’ hands at the same time. After I put the first load into the trunk and came back to the girls standing patiently by the cart, I saw that the cart was empty, and I can almost swear that my mind went completely blank. Zero. Empty. Nothing. Zilch. I couldn’t make heads or tails of what I was seeing.

How could my cart be empty, and the girls are standing right there? Could this be my cart? If not, then where’s my cart? So I ask the girls what happened, and they say that a man came and took the bags. What?!? I look around and wonder who would come and steal my bags, when I’ve paid for everything. And I think of the fish and strawberries I bought for the girls and all the money I spent. I take a step forward, not knowing whether to look outside the store in the parking lot for this man, or inside? I turn my head slightly and notice a woman in a parked car waving to me and pointing. I go over to her and she says that the man went that way. I start towards “that way” and there appears before me a man with a baseball cap, smiling a big smile and pointing to his chest, saying he had taken the bags to my car to help me.

Oh, what a relief came over me, knowing my bags were safe and no one had come and stolen them. I thanked the man and he quickly walked away. Only a few minutes later, as I was sitting in the car waiting for the girls to buckle themselves in, did I realize what that man had done. He had seen a woman with two kids and many bags, didn’t care that she was a Muslim, had seen that she needed help and didn’t hesitate to do what he saw needed doing: carrying her bags for her. He didn’t wait to ask permission; just did it. And didn’t wait around to be paid, or to be thanked profusely. Job done, off he went. My eyes welled up at this unknown man’s mercy to a fellow human being, and I felt at that moment that this was nothing compared to Allah’s mercy, and my heart got all squishy. The parking lot not being the place to burst into tears, I got a hold of myself and drove off, echoing the girls’ dua’ that Allah give this man Jannah.

 Asiya Akyurt

Asiya  lives in Virginia with her husband and twin daughters. She is an active MAS member with an ijaza (certificate) in Qur’anic recitation and tajweed, and enjoys teaching, interpreting and translating.

H writes:
I have actually had this occur a number of times (where a child would point and ask what is on my head, or why is that woman wearing that?). I try to smile, and put the parent at ease. Perhaps walk by and tell them, “It’s ok, don’t worry about it, I get it all the time.” I think putting them at ease and letting them know I’m not offended is the first step – because many parents are very conscious of me hearing and thinking their child is making fun or worry that I’m going to get offended. Then I take my cues from the parent. Sometimes, I just leave it at that, and say, have a good day, and just try to show them, I’m a nice, normal, English speaking person.

In general, I try to avoid talking about religion so as not to offend – and let the parent explain however they see fit. But I might say to the child, “Well that’s a nice necklace or hat you are wearing, why do you wear that?”, and they generally say, “because I like it,” or ” because I want to,” and then I just respond, “Well, I wear this because I like it, too.” Children who are too young might not understand the concept of God and religion and modesty (beyond what they see of their own parents). So I try to avoid getting into those conversations. If a parent themselves say something, and seem to want to engage in a discussion, I’ll discuss it, but I think discussions of God and Religion should be left for parents to have with their child and explain to them.

C says:
I havent really encountered too many non-Muslim young children but I have encountered questions from non-Muslim teenagers. When it comes to hijab I basically say that it’s to protect myself from the impure thoughts, feelings and reactions of men and women, such as jelousy, lust, desire, temptation, etc. I then bring in the fact that I am only for my husband and chose to be modest not only because God commanded it but becasue I personally believe its the right thing to do.

When questioned about Salat, I discuss why we pray 5 times a day is to constantly remember God in everything we do, and constantly thank Him and Repent to Him and never forget that He is watching over us and our actions at all times. I also discuss that it is one of the 5 pillars of faith, is obligatory and is our one on one time with God throughout the day.
I haven’t encountered any hostility so far in the way I handle things alhamdullilah.

S shares:
Our experience with young non-Muslim children has largely been with children in our building and surrounding area. We are blessed to live in an area where there are large African-American and Hispanic families. When the weather is nice, children often play in the large green space shared by the building tenants. For whatever reason many of these children enjoy coming over – opening up the refrigerator or playing with the toys. Often I feel compelled to ask them to tell their parents that they are over our house, or to remind them to go home.

During one of these visits the time for prayer came, and my husband told the two 6-year old boys over at the time that our sons will have to stop playing for a little bit because we would be praying. My husband explained that five times a day we pray to God to thank Him for what He gave us. He simplified the concept for their age level. To my surprise one of them asked if he could pray with us, and the other followed (I guess at that point he didn’t want to be the only one NOT praying). They followed the steps of prayer with us, and then continued to play afterwards. Now, whenever we call our sons in from outside to pray, we openly say we’re going to pray. It’s a familiar concept now.

I have to admit I felt a little uncomfortable this first time they prayed with us (it’s happened a few times since). Afterwards, I had a discussion with my husband expressing this discomfort – would their parents be ok with this, what would they think? He said that their parents obviously feel comfortable leaving their children at our house, and that they likely trust us because we’re Muslim. He said, “How can we tell a child not to pray with us, when he tells us that he wants to pray?” At that I said, what if our children went to their houses and the same thing happened. This was a purely theoretical discussion now because we never allow our children to go to any of their houses. At that, my wise husband said – “That’s why we don’t let our children go to their houses, but they obviously feel comfortable leaving their kids with us.” After this first prayer, the kids continued to come over – no parent ever expressed a concern over this.

Having shared this story, I realize that this approach may not be suitable for most people. We just happen to live in an area where people are trusting of the Muslim family next door. We all should, however, have our kids feeling confident enough with their non-Muslim friends to say they have to pray in a way that is matter of fact. Praying is not something strange, and certainly not something that should be hidden or done out of plain sight.

I’d like to think that these kids will grow up one day and fondly remember the house next door where they played, ate and drank – and where they prayed their first Salah.

However, as I sat down with her, my natural perfectionist instinct was to try to make the house look like the picture perfect models displayed on the box. My first mistake was to ask her which house on the box she wanted to replicate. Instead I should have just let her use her imagination to create a home of her choice.We then began to ice the roof, she took one side and I the other, and of course I was so concerned with making my side of the roof look smooth and clean and to cover all the brown parts of the gingerbread with icing, while Ameera’s side had globs of icing on various spots, obviously less than perfect vision. I attempted to try to “fix” her side, (my second mistake) and ended up in a power struggle with my poor 4 year old trying to make the house look the way I thought it should look. What is wrong with me? I kept asking myself over and over desperately trying to just let her be and have fun and enjoy herself, which she was thankfully. But during the candy trimming I continued in my effort to strategically place the pieces of candy where I thought they looked best, as did Ameera, and occasionally I would replace one of her candies or move one of her gumdrop bushes only to be reprimanded and scolded for doing so. “MAMA! Why are you moving that! I did that!” She would yell desperately trying to clue me in to the fact that this was meant to be HER project, not mine. Why was it soooo hard for me to let go?

What was even more troubling to me is that I know it’s not the first time that I have tried (in a sense) to take over and do things my way. And if I intend to be a successful homeschooler, then this is definitely something I will have to work on. I’m not going to have a picture perfect house.  Things will break, get messy, and I will have to be okay with that. Things will not always go according to plan and I will have to be okay with that. Things will not always go my way or turn out the way I expect and I will have to be okay with that. I will not always be in control…and I will have to be okay with that Because, if I amm not I will most certainly take the joy away from just letting my kids be kids, and then what will I have accomplished?

I realized one very important lesson in parenting and teaching. I was invading my child’s world. This was meant to be “her” creation and therefore this was her territory and I imposed my imaginatively limited adult mind on her limitless one. Overall the experience was enjoyable for both of us. But next time I need to learn to just let go! Had I left her to to design and decorate the house as she saw fit It probably would have looked totally different. I now can only wonder and imagine what her vision of it would have looked like, instead I see only pieces of her and unfortunately most of my own.

Christina Elahmar

Christina is a mother of two who divides her time between being an English teacher, writing consultant, and soon to be homeschooler. She blogs at Reflections of a Muslim American Educator and recently started the Muslim Mom Network Homeschoolers Google Group.

In my quest to find a healthy snack that is also acceptable to my 2 year old, I recently undertook the venture of making my own fruit roll-ups at home. Actually, my daughter and I did it together, which made the experience all the better since I’m always looking for projects to do with her around the house. It also worked out perfectly since I had 2 pints of ripe strawberries that I didn’t know what to do with. Since the process doesn’t involve any cooking, all I had to do was supervise my daughter when using the blender. Here is the recipe we used, but typically any fruit can be used (though you might want to stew things like apricots or plums beforehand):

Prepare the following (feel free to scale down, the recipe is really flexible):

• 6 cups of strawberries, rinsed and with the stems removed
• 6 tablespoons honey, raw honey works best as it gives a nice texture and body to the fruit
• 3 teaspoons of lemon juice, this preserves the color
• 2 parchment-lined baking sheets, you can also spray with non-stick spray if you choose

Steps:

1. Wash and cut stems from strawberries. If your child is like mine (s)he loves playing with water, so they can participate in washing. You can easily review counting and colors with them at this point. If your child is a little older, make sure you have them measure out the strawberries and remaining ingredients.
2. Puree the strawberries in blender. You can sift the seeds through a cheese-cloth if you desire (I kept the seeds in, why waste all the fiber).
3. Sweeten with honey, add lemon juice, and blend. At this point encourage your child to taste it, it will increase their excitement for when it will be ready and make them more eager to have it as a snack later on. It was so good we almost gulped it right up.
4. Spread onto the parchment-lined baking sheets. The thinner you can get it the better since it mimics the fruit-roll-up you can buy from the store.
5. Dehydrate the fruit either by placing in the sun, using a dehydrator or putting it in the oven with the door slightly ajar at the lowest temperature setting (the lowest my oven goes is 170 degrees, but lower would be better). This process can take 12+ hours, don’t rush it! I did this overnight to make sure my daughter didn’t accidentally come near the stove and burn herself. Once the fruit feels like it has congealed and can be peeled off from the parchment paper easily, you know it’s ready. You can use a pizza slicer to slice it up into portions. Stored in a sealed container or plastic bag, it can last up to a month.

Our finished product is featured above, and turned out great! Not only are we excited to try this with other fruit, but my daughter really took ownership of this activity. InshAllah it becomes regular practice in our home to be true to our beliefs, in big ways and small, and not just complain about the circumstances we are placed in.

Dalal Kanan

Dalal is currently a chemistry graduate student who, above all, loves being mom to a lovely two-year old daughter.

My father came from a well to-do family in Egypt. Then his mother died when he was five, may Allah have mercy on her soul. After she died, his family faced difficult times, both emotionally and financially. He would tell me, “Marwa, there were days when I was given one hard boiled egg, and I was told, “you can either eat this for breakfast or dinner.”‘ This story has resonated with me so deeply and I often think about it while I feed my daughter, or while deciding what to make for dinner. Sometimes I think about it without food triggering the thought at all. The mental image of a five year old boy looking at his egg and contemplating the best time to finish off his only meal of the day sometimes makes me want to erase the image from my mind altogether. However, I can’t not think about it while others go without food for what seems to be many more days. At the very least, sitting with that discomfort allows my heart to soften as I try to fight the ossifying effects this world has on me.

Alhamdulillah, Allah has never put me in a situation where I didn’t know where my next meal would come from. It truly is such a blessing that we are commanded to fast and feel the pangs of hunger and eventually the empowerment of not needing so much. However, I know for my family, we tend to slip into old habits quickly. Sometimes we eat out of boredom, or in order to keep certain hands and mouths busy (especially wandering, trouble-making hands), and well, many times we eat because it just so happens to be a certain meal time even if we are not necessarily hungry.

I know that the responsibility of finding joy in simple, intentional, eating rests on my shoulders. After watching the documentary, Forks over Knives, my husband and I have committed to eating less meat and incorporating more vegetables, beans, and grains into our diet. It does mean that we are stewing lentils about twice a week, but thus far, no one has complained. The days we do eat meat, we make sure to cut the portion size in half or add a little bit of ground beef as opposed to stew meat in the famous Egyptian sauce based vegetable meals (okra, peas, green beans, etc.). Even though we have only been doing this for about a month, what I have noticed is a deeper sense of appreciation the days we do eat meat. I enjoy it, and I try to savor what’s on my plate. I also don’t feel as guilty spending more money on organic, grass fed meat since we are buying much less of it. Growing up in a household where the highlight of the meal centered around the poultry, meat, or fish component, can make this endeavor seem like something is missing from the dinner table. After awhile however, we are getting used to eating what was once perceived as a side dish as our main meal- we just eat more of it. What we have found to be particularly satiating are cooked lentils with cumin, garlic, and crushed tomatoes as well as stuffed bell peppers and zucchini. Vegetarian chili is something we have yet to explore, but are looking forward to it, insha’Allah.

As we start incorporating these changes into our lifestyle in order to live closer to the sunnah of the Prophet Muhammad (sas), it is my hope that this endeavor will feed into other positive commitments as well. Ultimately, living a sustainable lifestyle that leaves a small carbon footprint will require much more than reducing our meat intake. Composting, farm shares, reducing paper towel usage, are also on the agenda. As for this winter? It’s shaping up to be a bit more than a pot of lentil-stew goodness.

 Marwa Aly

 Marwa Aly currently serves as a Muslim chaplain and is a mother to one wonderful daughter.

If you were fortunate enough to go somewhere for a honeymoon, make sure a vacation like that doesn’t end with the honeymoon. Go away as often as you can. Yes, money and work can get in the way, but getting away from it all and focusing on what’s more important (the two of you) is one of the best things you can do during your lives together.

Even little getaways like a day trip or eating out makes a difference. My son’s daycare does Parents Night Out on the last Friday of every month. Want to know where we went on the last date night? McDonalds. Yup. We parked the car and walked inside hand in hand.

I loved that feeling! We never went to a fast food place for a date night, so that felt so different and refreshing! Ah, how simple things can mean so much.

Okay, now on to something that doesn’t cost a thing. Always say kind words to each other. “I love you” are three little words that can ring beautifully in the ears for so long when said so often during unexpected time. Try it when you’re both in the middle of preparing dinner, for instance, or while the husband is changing a light bulb. Throw out “[spouse’s name]”, wait for a “yes?”, then answer “I love you.” Just as important, thanking each other. Thank your spouse as you leave a restaurant, for making dinner, or for simply making you smile. The list is endless, and we shouldn’t need reasons to thank one another. We all love to feel appreciated.

Along the same lines, compliment your spouse. Tell each other “you look great/beautiful/hot”, etc. And if you have nothing good to say, don’t say it at all. I hated the saying “sticks and bones can break my bones, but words will never hurt me,” growing up. Hurtful words, even if they’re not said intentionally, can echo inside a person for a very long time. Say a sweet dua’ in front of each other. My mother always did it around us (such as “Allah Yehmeeki”- may Allah keep you from harm), so it’s something that comes naturally. I would say, “may Allah protect you and keep you with us for a very long time. May Allah bless our marriage, and keep us happy forever,” etc. Finally, since this doesn’t cost a thing, kiss each other goodnight every night even if the other person is already sleeping. And kiss each other goodbye even if the other person is just going out to check the mail. We don’t live forever so always depart on good terms and as hard as this is, don’t fall asleep upset at each other. Say sorry, even if you’re still hurting. Kiss and make up and say, literally say, ‘I hate being upset with each other. You know I love you.’ – something along those lines.

Limit outings with the friends. They’ve always said, family comes first. Make family your priority. Spend quality time with each other, and spend quality time with your parents and in-laws (be the first to pick up the phone if they live far away). I believe that he who respects his mother, respects his wife. After all, it is our responsibility as Muslims to stay close to our families and give them our utmost respect. When things aren’t going too great (or even when they are), communicate. Choose your words carefully when you’re unhappy. Kindness goes a long way, and no one likes to feel like they’re in fault.

Finally, and most importantly, make dua’ always. Remember to thank Allah at every chance you get when things feel like they can’t get any better. Also remember that patience is a virtue. For Allah is with those who are patient. Ask Allah for guidance and help whenever you are in need. Sitting and letting your heart out to Allah is easier and more beneficial than doing the same to any human being in your life. Allah wants for us to ask from Him, and He tells us, “Remember me during the easy times, and I will remember you during your hard time.”

May Allah bless your marriage with all that is good. Ameen.

Hoda

Hoda is a blessed wife, mother to two boys and a stillborn girl, and a third grade public school teacher.

Now to the practicality of getting kids to do chores! I tried lists, excel sheets, and a white board. I sewed a chore chart, with a row of pockets for each child and decorated cards with illustrations for each chore. It made for one attractive wall hanging! We used it diligently for two, maybe three, weeks, and then like many projects in our house, it fizzled. It was not so much that the kids didn’t want to do their chores than it was challenging for me to follow up with each child and remind them to check the chart. I also forgot to lay out the chores for them in the morning.

Then, my husband had to go out of town for ten days. Alone in a new city, in a new home with unpacked boxes everywhere, with no family and few friends, I was completely on my own with four small children. That the kids help me with housework no longer became a teaching tool, but a necessity to our survival as a household during those ten days. Out of this need for improvisation, rather than out of creative parenting wisdom, I stumbled upon a much more effective, cooperative approach to managing housework together.

The inspiration started with mealtimes. Before we moved to our next activity, be it desert, a movie, a bath, or storytime, the entire kitchen had to be clean after breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Everyone had to help, and no one left the kitchen until everything was done. First everyone took their plates to the sink, and then cleared off the larger dishes. While I loaded the dishwasher, my two older children (6 and 4 years) worked together to wipe off the table, sweep the kitchen floor, wipe off the countertops, and empty the trash. My six-year-old learned how to put the leftover food into plastic containers and store them in the fridge. Even my two-year-old pitched in with pushing in the chairs, wiping off the baby’s high chair, and drying off the tabletop.

We talked and laughed, sometimes we reviewed Quran or recited adhkar, as I directed them to tasks whenever they couldn’t figure out what to do next. Because we were all doing it together, it felt more like quality family time than housework. After a few nights, the kids knew what had to be done and I enjoyed the satisfaction of seeing my little ones clean the kitchen with me like pros. And every night, we enjoyed the satisfaction of switching the lights off in a sparkling clean kitchen. When my husband returned from his trip, I told him that I wanted to continue this routine, and asked that he join the family mealtime clean-up as well. Then, I applied this approach to other chores.

For laundry, two or three days a week I dump two or three loads of freshly washed clothes on the floor in the living room and we all fold together and then every child takes stacks of clothes and delivers them to their appropriate rooms and drawers (ironing is one of those tasks that has become superfluous in our house, by necessity). I purposely do not assign a child to put away only his or her own clothes, because I think part of a healthy approach to housework is to serve the entire family not just oneself.

Beyond cleaning up after every meal and laundry, I am also trying to hold my children responsible for making their beds in the morning (still working on that one) and keeping the dining-room-converted-playroom tidy. Managing the toy clutter has been much easier since I designated only one spot in the house for toys. The children’s bedroom is a calm, clutter-free space only for sleeping, reading, and dressing. Making sure everything has a designated place, and that the children know those places well, has done wonders for keeping our home neat.

On cleaning days, so long as I am working the kids work alongside–vacuuming their room, wiping bathroom mirrors, and putting things in their place. We work together until the work is done, and I try to make the spirit cheerful by talking, playing games while cleaning, or listening an energizing soundtrack. We finish together, and then make sure to find time for the things we love to do.

Give this collective, team approach to housework a try and see if it works for your family. For me, it suits my disorganized personality more–I do not have the discipline or energy to follow up with chores or keep up with systems. I also dislike housework, and find it much more manageable when I am setting an example and connecting with my kids. I love the spirit of working together to accomplish something that this approach nurtures, as well as the lessons in teamwork and collective responsibility. On the rare occasion that one child does not want to participate (usually my four-year-old daughter), I instruct the rest of the team to leave a task for her, (i.e. sweeping under the table or putting away a stack of clothes) that she is free to complete on her own time, but must be done before moving on to the next activity. Usually, the thought of being left behind and having to work alone when everyone else has moved on to something enjoyable is enough to motivate her to participate.

Maha Ezzeddine

Maha is a homeschooling mother of four children (6, 4, 2, and 1) and lives in Michigan. She is an active MAS worker and loves being in nature, writing, and working for Islam. She blogs occasionally at Even Sparrows Pray.

Every time, I take a deep breath and feel like I am ready to welcome my third baby into this world, I turn around and there are a multitude of last minute tasks that need to be taken care of. Those tiny little details that are supposed to make their world just right.

Our world, this small tiny microcosm that I can exert some sense of order and peace into. I turn away from the larger chaos for now. I can’t handle any existential questions on the nature of evil and how we can bear to bring new life into a space where everything is eventually meant to die. This utterly small glimpse we are given into existence, just enough of a pause to mutter “Ah!” at our own insignificance (if we are lucky enough to come to that realization.) This tiny glimpse into heartbreaking chaos, loss and death that sends mothers down unknown paths seeking a little meaning and a small chance to maybe even breathe beauty for the sake of nurturing life.

I see many horizons and each one is etched with a little arm waving goodbye. Yet my gaze is constantly dragged back to the present. Here we are, still bound together. Possibly the closest we will ever be. You, in my womb ready to be ushered into this small little world I am painstakingly holding together for you and by and by into the many worlds awaiting you. You, in my womb, without a face or name, yet your movements alone have have opened me wide to both longing and awe. I let my gaze linger on the horizons of loss, only because this much loving can be unbearable at times.

Come, come my little one and let’s marvel at each others existence. I am waiting and hopeful, yet still savoring these last few moments we have intertwined in each others bloodstreams.

Your welcome is our first goodbye.

Maliha Balala

Maliha Balala lives in Maryland and adores mommying her two boys, reading, running in pretty places (okay more like jogging!), writing and daydreaming of all the things she still wants to do when she grows up.