Blog Carnival Status:

Make your own Glitter Graphics

Today was supposed to be the deadline for turning in your links to your contributions. This is not a competition. In fact, I was hoping to create a platform for a peaceful interfaith dialogue. I know that there is a lot of passion behind the decision to cover for the sake of one's spiritual beliefs. I know that this is a practice cherished in Judaism, and Christianity, as well as Islam. I was expecting more enthusiasm in this controversial, but beautiful subject. Come on ladies, don't be shy, the media often speaks for us, without asking us about it, so now is your chance to help dissolve some of the shadows around the practice of covering our heads, which we each cherish so much. It does not matter, within the context of this carnival what form or within what context you cover your hair. The important thing that I wanted this carnival to be, is a celebration of the voices who are often ignored when it comes to this controversial religous choice. No one is supposed to use this carnival as a way of judging anybody else's interpretations of the practice of veiling. I want to keep it positive, respectful and enlightening.

If I don't think I get enough voluntary contributions, I will surf around and find such articles and blog posts already written by women who enjoy covering their hair for the pleasure of their Lord.

Please drop the links to your contributions in the comments below, I plan to post the carnival on Monday, so you still have time. Don't avoid it now because you think you missed the deadline. Your contribution to this project is better late than never.


The original description of the carnival read:

If you know of either a female Jewish, Christian, or Muslim blogger who covers her hair for religious reasons, either tell me about her, or tell her about me. I think it would be an interesting subject for a carnival. A kind of celebration, and another way for head-covering women to speak out and create awareness of why we do what we do.

Possible topics for inclusion in the carnival:

Why I cover my hair

The social results of choosing to cover my hair

Reactions to my head-covering in the work place

How to wear the style (or styles) of head-coverings that I wear

Why I chose one particular style head-covering over another

How deciding to cover my hair has improved my life

The reactions of my friends and family when I started covering my hair

Discrimination I have faced because of my covered head


You could either post an article on one of these topics, or you could treat it like a meme and answer each of these questions briefly or in depth. You could even choose to write a poem about covering your hair. The possible ways of contributing to the carnival are practically endless, as long as it deals with covering the hair for religious reasons. Please drop the links in my comments, so I can be sure to include your contribution. If I get enough of a variety of contributions by the end of May, I will post the carnival then.


Even if you think a lot about covering your hair, but have not taken the first step towards doing it, your contribution would be appreciated.


I may just go on a hunt and try to locate a variety of head-covering bloggers myself if no one offers to join the carnival. However, I thought it would be more fun if I could get some women involved in the actual creation of a carnival style project.

Don't be shy. I'm open to suggestions.


To help identify your contribution (s) as part of this carnival, you may wish to make a badge smilar to the one at the top of this post.

If you have something you'd like to contribute, but you don't have a blog, you may email it to me at almathlooma2208@yahoo.com with your name or alias, and any contact information you wish to share. In this case I will post it directly on my blog for you so that you may still be heard.

stream of consciousness: diet and exercise

I have finally uncheesed my menu, instead I'm loving my nuts and avocados in salads, this is the first time in my life I have actually removed cheese completely from my diet, even soy cheese, I am amazed that it's actually possible to live cheeseless, speaking of salads, I never have to buy another bottle of dressing either, because I like the refreshing flavor of fresh-squeezed lemon juice more than any salty store-bought salad dressings that contain ingredients I can't even pronounce, I no longer eat highly processed soy products either because anything that started out looking like a kind of bean and ended up looking like snow-white slabs or cubes is just plain creepy, or if it ended up pressed into a the shape of a hamburger or sausage link, or sliced baloney it's not going to appear on either my plate or my families' plates, edamame is a whole and wonderful bean, and not in need of excessive manipulation in order to be delicious and nutritious, I haven't lost a whole lot of weight, only about 5 pounds, since I started exercising, but I have shrunk from a Women's 2X to a misses' XL, so I am seeing bigger results than my scale is measuring, I still have approximately 45 lbs to lose, so I had to figure out the most radical thing I could do without compromising the flavor of my food or cutting my calories to an unhealthy number, hence the un-cheesing of my menu, the Green Smoothie Girl 's insights are helping me a lot, I don't turn my greens into smoothies, I just pile a lot of organic salad greens onto my plate and the rest of my nutrients are carefully measured and sprinkled on top, edamame, black beans and corn, cashews, almonds, fresh or dried fruit, grilled salmon (only once or twice a week), whatever I want, just obsessively measured and squirted all over with fresh lemon juice, I want to be a healthy size before we try to get pregnant again, the exercise is really helping, I no longer get short of breath from walking to the parking lot, or up a flight of stairs, thanks to Allah, when I first started exercising on my elliptical machine, I used to pray, because I felt like I was literally going to die, "Allah, You may return me to You at any time, but whatever time You give me, I will spend in working on trying to improve my health," thanks to Allah, I am now stronger and feeling better than I have since I got pregnant, in 2007, I'm still concerned about my hernia, so I am continuing to wear my hernia binder for now, I only take it off to wash it, or when I am exercising or sleeping, I will most likely try to buy the best pregnancy girdle I can find, if we are ever blessed with another baby (or two), I would have used one the first time if my OB's had recommended it, but I had never heard of such a thing until I was almost ready to deliver our twins, that was a gross over-sight on their part, that should have been mentioned to me the first time the ultrasound showed two embryos, at nine-weeks pregnant, now my two little embryos have grown into mischievious, babbling, giggling toddlers who love when I " 'ead" books to them, try to catch bugs, play drums, watch Sesame Street and Barney, climb on the furniture, empty their clothes out of their chest of drawers at least twice a day, scatter their toys from one end of our apartment to the other, and I just called the local public library to learn that their story time for toddlers program is suspended for the summer, but is expected to be reinstated in September, so I'll plan on taking my babies to that every week, when they grow bigger I also want to involve them in as many library activities as I can, since I want to homeschool, that will be an excellent place for them to meet and socialize with other children in a constructive environment, Allah is Generous

The more I learn, the less I know...

Not Much Going on...

...the babes hilarious stage where they pick up new words and repeat almost anything we say to them. Hamoody thinks everything that moves is a bug, he says "doody" (which means 'bug' in Arabic) when he sees a dog, a bird, a piece of paper blowing across a parking lot. Alawi says "bu, bu, bu" (trying to say 'bug,' in English) when he sees any insect. What is it with little boys and bugs? I also think it's cute that one prefers to say Arabic words and the other prefers to say the English words. We speak both languages to them, so they choose which words they like better.

Beautiful

Shia in Grenada Pt. 1 of 5 الشيعة في كرينادا - More amazing videos are a click away

I'm always happy to find clips about Muslims from unexpected places.

De Facto White Privilege:

This social system no longer applies to white women, and men, who choose Islam as their creed. Moreover, I really don't think it should. I am no expert or authority on this subject. However, I'm going to roll with this opportunity to share some observations I have made in the ten years since I took my oath as a believer in the Monotheistic God, (of Abraham, Moses, Jesus, and all the other prophets) and that Prophet Mohammed was his final messenger.



While writing this entry, I am keeping this article in mind, White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack by Peggy McIntosh

This post is for The White Privilege & the Ummah Carnival: What Does it Mean to You, Them and Us?



I don't think that this is a subject that most white people really, consciously contemplate. It's as automatic as sleeping when we are tired, or eating when we are hungry. As a teenager on an Old-Order Mennonite farm, I read everything from slave narratives, to Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer. Most of what I remember reading would actually be considered heavy literature, but somehow, some of the basic assumptions that Peggy McIntosh cites in her article managed to creep into my perspective. I would not consider myself a racist person, by any means, but the notion that "flesh" colored bandaids could be offensive to anyone would never have crossed my mind, had I not read McIntosh's article. Conversely, one of my African American professors made a remark that, "at least I could remove my Islamic head-covering, and blend right back in again." I took offense to that, because my head-covering is as much a part of my identity as the color of my skin.

In college I became bored from reading literature written primarily by dead white men. As much as I love Franz Kafka, Edgar Allen Poe, Samuel Clemmons (aka Mark Twain), Henry David Thoreau, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Walt Whitman, and all of the others I studied, something was conspicuously missing. So I started taking courses in other departments, that's how I found my way into the Africana Studies department. I ended up with a minor in Africana Studies because I could not ignore the emotional pain of centuries of oppression that was expressed therein. In the Africana Studies department I found the link that was missing in my education prior to that point. If I had discovered Africana Studies sooner, I would have had a double major, but as it turned out, I filled up my itinerary for my Senior year with Africana Studies classes because I wanted to learn more about Malcolm X, Martin Luther King Jr., and even Mahatma Gandhi than I had been taught in any of my other courses. That was a pivotal year in my perception of the racial biases inherent in our beautiful, but flawed country. I realized that even though I was attending a historically black university, most of my literature professors were white, and so were the authors of most of the content we were required to study. I was so enlightened by this eye-opening experience. I am eternally grateful to have acquired a more complete picture of these de facto social mores. In fact, it would never have occurred to me that anyone could take offense to the fact that the white cake is called Angel Food cake, and the brown cake is called Devil's Food cake, had I not imbibed myself in this field of study. I don't think I brought it up, but I should have told my professor that my favorite cake of all time was chocolate Angel Food cake. My mother used to make it for my birthday every year, because it was my absolute favorite. Even the Merriam-Webster dictionary defines the color black as all things dirty and bad, and the color white as all things good and pure.

As a single and white Muslima, I was approached by a never-ending line of potential marriage partners. I had the distinct feeling that if I really wanted to get married, I only had to snap my fingers and in five minutes I'd be at the mosque with Mo Shmoe, signing my name on a marriage document. I'm embarressed to say that this is true within the Ummah, but it is. I don't understand why I am considered more desirable than a dark-skinned believing woman who may be even better in character and faith than I am. In fact, I could name a few of these precious sisters right now, but out of respect for their privacy, I won't. I turned down so many before I found my Mr. Right. I accomplished the one thing that I learned to value while I was studying the Affro-centric world view. I did not want to marry anyone with a "privileged" status, and I didn't. I would rather be married to the poorest man from one of the oppressed societies than anyone from an oppressor society. I don't want my children's views to be skewed by that subtle, yet oppressive sense of meritless entitlement that comes with the oppressors' mind-set, either consciously or unconsciously.

As a Muslima in the workforce I encountered many different personalities. Some were sincerely respectful, polite, and genuinely curious. They were the ones that made being a white Muslima-by-choice a pleasure. I was often the only practicing Muslima that they had ever met, so I was in the unique position to educate them about Islam. Unfortunately, I did encounter what is known in Africana Studies as a glass ceiling. That is, no matter how well I performed my job, I was not going to be promoted. Sure, I would have duties and expectations added, but never the title, or the increase in wages that is typically associated with an increase in responsibilities. Maybe that was my cue that that was not the company for me, because I know that not all companies are like that. However, I felt like perhaps I was in the position I needed to be in because I had a larger responsibility to dissemminate Islamic knowledge where previously there was none, which was ultimately more important than making more money. Of course there were occasions when I encountered blatant hatred, as a hijab-wearing Muslima. One such encounter was with an old man. I asked him if I may help him, and he said, "Ab-so-lute-ly not! I don't want any head-cutters helping me..." That's all I heard before I tuned his ranting and raving out and went into the back room until he left. There were other customers there who overheard him and became so angered by his tyrade that they made sure they made a statement to my immediate supervisor, because they wanted to make sure she knew I did nothing wrong. Another white man who was with a group of African American ladies was holding the hand of an obviously mixed-race child and he made it his business to ask me what was my opinion of the war in Iraq. I don't remember what I said, but he said, "Well, I think we should just nuke them all!" He told me that the Qur'an tells Muslims to kill the infidels wherever we find them, and I told him "it says that, but it also says not to begin hostilites, because Allah does not love aggressors." He looked at me and said, "and we are the aggressor there?" I said "It's a matter of opinion, it depends on who you ask." He smirked and went on his way, leading his beautiful mixed-race child by the hand.

When I go shopping, I am usually treated very differently then I was before I became a Muslim. I have literally stood there and watched this occur, like I was watching a movie, like it was happening to someone else. I went to Wal-Mart once, to pick up some pictures. The lady looked very busy at her photography machine so I just waited patiently, thinking she would help me in a minute. Another customer walked up next to me, and the woman instantly dropped what she was doing, served that customer, looked at me, and turned her back on me again. Things like that have happened to me on more than one occasion in the past nine or ten years. As for medical care, I don't even want to begin telling everything that has happened to me at hospitals and doctor's offices. I literally avoid going until I'm convinced I'm about to die. The most recent incident was when I had a form of food poisoning from some bad sushi. The nurse who was in charge of getting my vitals and taking me to the exam room was fairly non-chalant, but as soon as she left my room, and shut the door, I heard her roaring with laughter as she told my doctor, "Wait until you see your new patient!" I would have come out and left, but the doctor came right in. He was young, and he was a Hindu. He was very polite to me and he told me he was required to read the Qur'an as part of his education in India. Unlike his nurse, he was respectful, which was a relief, but I wonder how someone like that nurse can be in the medical field. She deserved to be fired. But I decided I would be the bigger person and show her that I am better than her, by treating her with my best manners. Really, it is shocking how medical "professionals" treat patients based on their percieved ethnicity. I am as white as the best of them, but the little piece of cloth I wear on my head reveals to me so much about their true characters. and. I. am. afraid. of. them.

Repost: I Wrote This Poem in May, 2007

One cool thing about blogging is that it's possible to go back and see where I was, what I was doing, what I was thinking at a given time. The We Heart Art carnival reminded me that I actually have a lot of poetry in my blog archives. So I decided to repost a series of my old poems, beginning with this one.

THE WHIPPING GIRL

In the beginning the Veiled Beauty smiled
at everyone, she laughed and giggled,
never suspecting that the reciprocal mirth
was fake. She skipped and danced along
the Straight Path, singing "There is only One God,
and Muhammad is His Messenger." she expected
to change the world with her loving kindness.
She helped the needy, hugged the lonely,
and did favors for her elders, hoping
to make them her Aunts and Uncles.

At first they gave the Veiled Beauty sweet flowers,
little rainbow-colored birds, and exotic fruits
and sang songs whenever they saw her.
As time went by she noticed that the flowers
she was getting were increasingly disintegrated
and smelled more and more like dead rats,
the little birds came with broken wings
and could not sing, and the exotic fruits were
rotten at the core. The songs that the people sang
whenever they saw her, were morbid, hateful rants.
What happened? Did the gifts really change,
or was she finally seeing their true characteristics?

Puzzeled and hurt, the Veiled Beauty approached
her Sheikh for answers. "They are jealous of you," he said.
"But why?" she exclaimed in shock, "I don't have anything
to be jealous of!" She shook her head in disbelief, "You have
seen my hut, it is very small and bare and the clothes that I
wear are not glamorous or expensive. Why are they jealous?"
"They are jealous of your spirit, they want to be like you,
but they know they can never be so humble and sincere," he said.
When she left the Sheikh her veil was wet with tears
and her eyes were pools of sorrow. Her shoulders slumped
and she was shaking, her footsteps on the Straight
Path Homeward were all uneven, she even tripped and fell.

As time went by the Veiled Beauty kept on trying
to do what was Right and to shine God's Light on the
faces of the destitute, the lonely and the grieving.
In the middle of one long and lonely night she heard
her window shatter. Someone had thrown a rock into her hut!
"Who would want to hurt me? Why? What have I done
to anyone?" she thought. Her back bent as she swept
up the broken pieces and covered the window with her
faded blanket. The next morning, a knock on her door,
there the village people stood, some arguing, some chanting
an ancient, well-known chorus: "Crucify her! Crucify her!"

The Veiled Beauty felt no fear, her spirit soared,
a radiant glow lit up her face as she gazed past them
at the blood-red streaks in the sky, then she saw that they had
planted a cross on the little hill near her house. The rays
of the morning sun cast a sinister glow on its wooden frame.
Mutely she began her walk towards her destiny. Their
chatter nearly deafened her, the whips and chains tore
her garments. They knocked her down repeatedly,
each time she got up and walked a few more steps,
shouting, "Their is only One God, and Muhammad
is His messenger!" But the people could not hear her,
above the sound of their cursing.
Bruises bloomed upon her slender body,
but the physical pain was no match for the pain
that bit into her golden heart and oppressed her enlightened soul.

When they had dressed the Veiled Beauty in a bikini
and nails had been driven through her hands and feet,
they erected the cross and became silent to observe her fate.
Finally they heard her voice shouting loudly,
"There is only one God, and Muhammad is His messenger!"
They watched in horror as her hair turned silky and white.
The blood that dripped off her body turned into rubies
as the drops hit the ground. The tears that rolled down her
cheeks became diamonds. Her bruises morphed
into a gown of sweet red and purple flowers.
When she took her last breath some of them changed
their minds and began to cry, they finally believed her words,
but it was too late.

We Heart Art

My babies art is music.

Before they could walk, they were making music,

on their Casio keyboard, and dancing on their knees,

They love making music with these jingling toys,

Ali was dancing on his knees,


Mohamad was playing the keys,

and drumming on his drum, on their Birthday

After a bath he escaped for a quick song and dance

on the keyboard.

Poetry is probably my most passionate creative expression.

MUSICAL BABIES

The first time I heard them cry,

I thought they were singing

a mournful song in a foreign language.

They hummed a thousand tunes

when I put them down for a thousand

naps, in their bouncing infant seats

When their Baba came home one day,

with a Casio keyboard, my little creepers

learned to dance before they could walk

I let them have my exotic drums

and they just sort of started banging

out rhythms on the goats' skins

Now they are dancing, musical babies,

they even dance when they hear me praying,

clap their hands when they hear the sacred

text being recited in rhythmic tones.

Prayers, happiness, dancing and drums

are mingling in their blood, with grief

because the water of the Euphrates*

is being stolen again, from the descendents

of their persecuted ancestoral forebears.

*The Euphrates River, which begins in Turkey, and used to flow through Syria and Iraq is now nearly dried up by the time it reaches my children's relatives in Iraq. The reason being that both Turkey and Syria have built dams, preventing the flow of vital water into Iraq. Children. can. not. live. without. clean. water. Poor families used to depend on that precious river for food, especially fish. Single moms used to be able to support their children by catching and selling fish, feeding cows with grass that grew on it's banks and leading their animals to the river for drinks.

The Art I Incorporate in My Daily Life: I Wear It

After some reflection about what I want to contribute to the Art Carnival hosted by Helene, 3 Bay B Chicks, and Domestically Challenged, I came up with this.

These first two pictures are obviously pre-baby, but I wanted to show-case a variety of ways that a Muslim woman can live art. Mine are by no means the most extravegant Islamic women's fashions I have seen, but I always wear art either on my head or on my feet, and sometimes my whole outfit has an understated, impromptu artistic flair. I'm not going to put any captions on the pictures, I'll let the focus be on the details of my garments. Click on any picture if you want a closer view of it.

(No, I did not sew any of them. I buy the various parts, scarves, under caps, etc. from places like online stores, Malls, Target, Ross's, Cato's etc., and I mix and match them to create each "Master Piece". A long plain skirt under a shorter printed skirt; an oblong scarf wrapped around an under cap or a two-piece head covering and so on... I don't wear pre-made fashions the way the designers intended.)

Beautiful Moments

New black dish doshies for the anniversary of Lady Fatima's shahadat (martyrdom).

Outside our friends' house in Memphis.

This plant is fascinating.

The new rockers rock!

Looking for bugs...

This Night Owl is Turning into an Early Bird

I wonder what planets have aligned, or gone off their orbits?
Maybe I should call my physician, I think something is wrong with me.
I'm actually rising at the crack of dawn with this sentence
in my brain: "Exercise machine, here I come!"
Even on four or five hours of sleep, I'm bouncing out of bed
like one of those inflatable toys that rock right back up after a kid knocks it down.
After praying and then spending 45 minutes on the elliptical, 45 minutes of yoga
and a quick refreshing shower, there's not a trace of sleepiness left,
my blood feels clean, my mind is strangely wide awake. Weird.
I must have undergone a metamorphosis without my knowledge,
or someone has secretly been slipping some NO-DOZ into my drinks.
In the light of the day, I'm noticing that my feathers are no longer brown
and my eyes are no longer owl-like. When I flap my wings and leave my nest,
I actually see a rainbow of shades and colors when the sunlight reflects in them.
(OK, maybe that is the just natural "high" of sleep deprivation talking, heeheehee)

A Watery Mother's Day

It felt like fall, it was so wet, cool and cloudy today. Super Baba was going to grill some salmon, but the rain interfered with that plan. So I just made it in the oven. It was really good anyway. I also made some bean and olive salad to serve on a bed of organic baby greens, corn on the cob and organic beets. I also made Broccoli and Stars Alfredo for the babes; they can eat star-shaped pasta better than fettuccine or even angel hair pasta. It was all very nice, but the best part of my day was to hear the clatter and roar of my two toddlers playing to their little hearts' content. That was priceless.

My new favorite restaurant is Jason's Deli. They have a gorgeous salad bar with many organic treasures on it. I loved the coarsely chopped mixture of olives and garlic that I ate on some crostini and I liked the three-bean salad. These two dishes inspired me to make the three-bean and olive salad that I made today. I basically made three-bean salad with kalamata and spanish olives chopped up in it, then I threw in some capote capers, grated in a clove of garlic too, and squeezed in fresh lemon juice instead of vinegar.

New MySpace Layouts

I love this:

Grab a Funny Picture from pYzam.com

New MySpace 2.0 Layouts

"What Do I Want Out of Blogging?"

...I asked myself. After a period of reflection, I answered myself:

"I want a place to express my passion for my faith and family and an outlet for my creativity. I also want to meet other people who are passionate and creative."

I don't care if the people I meet have beliefs that concur with mine or not. The important thing I look for in friends, online, as well as elsewhere, is passion for something, and mutual respect.

Graphics

Comments from pYzam.com

Myspace Layouts

a phony smile is fluff that covers things I don't want to touch

in fact, a phony smile is more insulting than a glare

Salome

She's beautiful, without a doubt, but I don't think she knows what gives her true self-respect. Read her bio. If her family was similar to mine, she did not learn the value of respecting herself. Modesty was likely imposed on her as a stern ritual and not as a happy expression of spirituality and personal dignity.

She posed on Bravo IN THE BUFF, wearing nothing but a pair of earrings. As her bio says, her very real weakness is that she does not have enough knowledge about pop-culture, having grown up completely deprived of all television, radio, and internet which would have given her some idea of what the mainstream is really about. In short, she is naive. I just want to hug her and tell her, "you don't have to degrade yourself to be cool." She could go to school and develop her mind and after that no one could exploit her, because she would probably learn a little about history, philosophy, sociology and things like that. Moreover, most importantly, she would learn the skill of critical thinking. Critical thinking is not a value that is taught to little Mennonite girls and boys. Quite the contrary, most of them are beaten into submission until they are afraid to say "peep" when the elders make a ruling on any issue.

Apparently Salome is trying to rebel and prove that she is "somebody," by modeling in the nude, on national television. However, I doubt that she is prepared for the long-term psychological as well as social consequences that such choices inevitably entail. If she was raised like I was, she does not know that she is already 'somebody,' and she does not have to take her clothes off in order to prove it. My heart aches for her, because I have a pretty good idea how she could have gotten into something like this. Some people might say, "It's a free country, she can do whatever she wants." While that may be true, it is also true that this girl literally has no idea that choices, even in the mainstream life-style, have consequences. Maybe no one will yell at her, or tell her that she is evil and this and that, but they still won't RESPECT her.

Coming from a Mennonite or Amish farm, into mainstream America is like coming to a totally foreign country, and nothing is exactly the way it seems on the surface. To an individual who was raised in that kind of heavily controlled environment, and then leaves it behind, the rest of America does not appear to have any morals at all. To a girl like her, at least in my experience, that results in making a lot of bad choices. At least until she figures out that absolute freedom is a myth. Absolute freedom is not the reality at all. There is no such thing as absolute freedom, except that it must coincide with a set of social responsibilities to oneself first of all. If that were not true there would be no need for law enforcement and a judicial system in order to keep the people, (i.e. criminals) who do not have an inner sense of social responsibility, from taking over.
I wish poor Salome the best. I so want to hug her and tell her that although her parents may not have instilled this belief in her, she is already somebody.

mini-transitions

Ali learned how to put lids on containers

we had to go buy 40 pound capacity Fisher Price infant/toddler rockers because they outgrew their bouncy seats, but they still like to be rocked to sleep in them

the Super Baba finally took the van and vaccumed the layers of crumbs and barf out of it, meaning we are planning to keep it a while longer, so we had to clean it in order to salvage our dignity when we drive it (blush with shame to admit we let it get that ghastly in the first place)

we learned how to wash strollers and carseats: AT THE CAR WASH!!! works fantastically, they get super clean, just make sure you give them time to dry before you need them again (I haven't tried using a blow-dryer on them)

Super Baba gave me a cooking lesson, he showed me how to make lamb and okra stew

both boys learned how to walk backwards

when they want to go outside they open their chest of drawers and get some socks and bring them to me (because their shoes are out of their reach)

they both can climb on and off the sofa now

they come for hugs and kisses when we tell them to

we found some fabulous wildcaught Pacific Salmon filets in the frozen seafood case at Kroger's, it is the whole side of the fish and still has the skin on one side so it works well on the grill, it is also pale in color, meaning it does not have food coloring added to make it the usual deep orange color of a lot of the salmon that you can buy these days

the boys now know how to turn their casio keyboard on and off themselves, whenever they want to

when the boys wake up in the morning Ali asks me for gok-gok, his pronunciation of 'gocky' the Pennsylvania Dutch baby word for egg

every time the phone rings two little faces light up with smiles, and a chorus of "Baba, Baba, Baba" rings through our home (sorry kids, it's not Baba every time)

I'm trying to start exercising in the morning, right after morning prayers, so I can get it done while the kids are still asleep, and get a shower and a few minutes of quiet time before they wake up and come toddling, sleepily out of the bedroom, wanting their breakfast

we no longer have to take the stroller with us every time we go out, the kids would rather toddle along, than be strapped in the baby ride, but if I can't avoid taking both of them out by myself, I still take the stroller and they ride in it anyway

my sister L. is expecting a baby girl in four more months, she already has a 5 1/2 year old boy, she had to use chlomid both times, then there's me, the first time we seriously try to get pregnant, we get twins by spontaneous conception!

L. is my fourth sibling who is having a girl for her second child, all those of us who are married had boys first, I got two boys, maybe I'll have two girls next time, too :) (I think I would be ecstatic, but I would also cry in anticipation of what I went through before, to get my sweet, mischievious twins, God knows best)

*Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un, Bea Aurthur

* "We are from God and unto Him is the return."

The Golden Girls have been one of my favorite sit-coms for more than a decade, and now Bea Aurthor is gone. I miss her. She has entertained me and made me laugh at times when nothing else could have cheered me up. May she rest in peace.

It wasn't that long ago that Estelle Getty passed away too, so it's only Betty White and Rue McClanahan who are left from that show now. I'm sad about that. Here are two special clips to honor the hilarious, tragic, beautiful shows and the four golden ladies I have loved over the years.

An Official Introduction

Name: Mohamad

Age: 14 months

Favorite food: eggs, multi-grain cheerios, goldfish crackers, hamburgers, fish, steamed broccoli, steamed carrots, steamed sweet potatoes, apple juice, Lindt white chocolate truffles, watermelon, blueberries, strawberries, rice, bread, milk, ritz crackers, cheese, plain yogurt, boiled legumes, green beans, popcorn

Favorite toys: balls, a dancing chicken, drums, the Casio keyboard,

a rainbow colored beanie bear, Mama's spoons and bowls, cell phones, remote controls

Favorite books: Sesame Street alphabet and numbers books

Favorite cartoons: Sesame Street, Barney, Word World, Mister Rogers, Thomas the Train, Tom and Jerry

Loves to go outdoors, try to catch bugs, play with blades of grass and pick flowers, bubble baths, touching noses with his nose,

dancing around the living room with Baba

Personality: cautious with strangers, generous, sweet, affectionate, giggles often

Favorite person: fiercely Baba's boy

(used to be a fierce Mama's boy, but lately he's transferred his passion to his Baba *pouts*)

Name: Ali

Age: 14 months

Favorite foods: steamed broccoli, chicken, fish, boiled legumes, goldfish crackers, milk, eggs, Lindt white chocolate truffles, watermelon, pineapple, roasted potatoes, apple juice, plain yogurt, cheese, popcorn

Favorite toys: venetian blinds, anything he has to climb to reach, a riding giraffe toy on wheels, the Casio keyboard, drums, balls, Mama's bowls and spoons, cell phones, remote controls

Favorite book: "Big and Little," Sesame Street alphabet and counting books

Favorite Cartoons: Sesame Street, Mister Rogers, Barney, Word Girl, Thomas the Train

Loves going outdoors, butterfly kisses, hugs, explore the grass, try to catch bugs, pick flowers, bubble baths, dancing around the living room with Baba

Personality: "I can do it myself," affectionate, has little temper tantrums (heehee), has strong opinions, is alllll boy, has an infectious belly laugh

Favorite Person: everyone he meets (causing Mama's blood to curdle, *shudder*)

clicks from twin-world

My grillin' toddler. :)

Taking time to smell the flowers.

This maniac almost ran us off the road!

The boots on that soldier statue are as big as baby Mohamad is!

Ali has a mouth full of goldfish crackers.

Just goofing off in this park.

No, we did not spill this paint.

I can't believe how big my boys are getting. Sometimes I look at them and say, "Who are you and what have you done with the little babies I brought home from the hospital?" God alone is worthy of all praise.

Celestial Friday Post # 15: The 12th Imam, Muhammed al-Mahdi

From Sunnan Abu Dawud
Book 36, Number 4266:
Narrated Jabir ibn Samurah:
The Prophet (peace_be_upon_him) said: The religion will continue to be established till there are twelve caliphs over you, and the whole community will agree on each of them. I then heard from the Prophet (peace_be_upon_him) some remarks which I could not understand. I asked my father: What is he saying: He said: all of them will belong to Quraysh.

Book 36, Number 4269:
Narrated Abdullah ibn Mas'ud:
The Prophet (peace_be_upon_him) said: If only one day of this world remained. Allah would lengthen that day (according to the version of Za'idah), till He raised up in it a man who belongs to me or to my family whose father's name is the same as my father's, who will fill the earth with equity and justice as it has been filled with oppression and tyranny (according to the version of Fitr). Sufyan's version says: The world will not pass away before the Arabs are ruled by a man of my family whose name will be the same as mine.

Book 36, Number 4271:
Narrated Umm Salamah, Ummul Mu'minin:
The Prophet (peace_be_upon_him) said: The Mahdi will be of my family, of the descendants of Fatimah. Abdullah ibn Ja'far said: I heard AbulMalih praising Ali ibn Nufayl and describing his good qualities.

Book 36, Number 4272:
Narrated AbuSa'id al-Khudri:
The Prophet (peace_be_upon_him) said: The Mahdi will be of my stock, and will have a broad forehead a prominent nose. He will fill the earth will equity and justice as it was filled with oppression and tyranny, and he will rule for seven years.


I know I posted this video last Friday, but the events in it are so significant I feel I must post it again to get the full effect and lay the groundwork for answering the question "WHO IS al-MAHDI?":
















Al-Mahdi is the twelfth Shia Imam and he is the only one whom Allah hid from his would-be assassins. Ya Subhanallah. He was never killed, never died, and for this reason we do not have a grave site for him, like we do for the others.

Ziyarat (Salutation) of Imam al-Mahdi
It's nice to recite this on Fridays:

O Allah! Send blessings on Muhammad and on the children of Muhammad.
In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful.
O Allaah send blessings on Muhammad and on the children of Muhammad.
In the name of Allaah, the Beneficent, the Merciful.
Peace be on you, O the decisive argument of Allaah on His earth !
Peace be on you, O the ultimate link of Allah with the mankind !
Peace be on you, O the truth and enlightenment of Allaah
whom the guided on the Right Path follow and imitate,
and who gives heart, joy and confidence to the faithfuls!
Peace be on you, O the just, pure and refined, rendered formidable!
Peace be on you, O the “Wali” (beloved favourite of Allaah, a friend, a helper)
who always gives sincere advice!
Peace be on you, O the means and medium of liberation and assurance !
Peace be on you, O the spring and essence of life !
Peace be on you. Bleessings of Allaah be on you and on your pure and pious family.
Peace be on you. May Allaah fulfil, at once, in advance , the promise He made with you –
to shower mercy and make distinctly visible (your) leadership.
Peace be on you, O Loving Protector ! I am your friend and follower,
well aware of your priority and ultimate purpose.
I come near Allaah, the Highest High, through you and your family.
I look forward to be there when you come, at your disposal for making known the truth.
I request Allaah to send blessings on Muhammad and on the children of Muhammad,
and make room for me amid those who have fixed the look upon you,
who shall comply with your instructions and help you against your enemies,
and let me be present before you along with all your friends. O loving protector !
O the Man of the moment ! Blessings of Allaah be on you and on your family.
Today is Friday, a day you are expected to come;
the faithfuls will be free of cares and troubles when you shall arrive,
and with one strike shall put an end to the intrigues of the infidels.
I, O the Loving friend, in these hours, seek your hospitality and friendship.
You, O my Loving friend, are kind and generous,
a true son of the kind and generous forefathers,
always inclined by nature to be hospitable and friendly.
So give me a warm welcome and make friends with me.
Blessings of Allaah be on you and on your family.
O Allah! Send blessings on Muhammad and on the children of Muhammad.

Peace and love to all, Muslims, Christians and Jews.