A picture is worth a thousand words.
Dr John Medina, (Brain Rules for Baby): When playing, the kids’ brain lights up like a bright light bulb!
Stashing stuff here and there has been my forte. I remember when I was in high school, I was a clean freak! Pantang bersepah….siap marah-marah kat my bro and sis yang tidak berdosa itu. (Insaf, insaf..ampun dik).
Hahaha..our house is simply sempoi – for now *wink!* We have this one orange sofa-bed which recently got ‘amputated’. One of the legs broke! Adoi… why at times like this emergency happens?
Quick thinking solves the problem. I put two thick dictionaries to make the sofa back to its original position. Then I draped two curtains over the sofa to hide the dictionaries. (In the pix below, Miss Producer in blue tudung is sitting on the accident victim.)
Somehow I get a ‘kick’ out of sweeping and MOPPING floors. I love the smell of the detergent…oohhhh harum!!! Anyway, I found this poem and fell in love with it. Whenever I get too tired to think of the mess the kids make, I’ll TRY to apply this poem in my life. You should too. Enjoy!
Rose Milligan of Lancaster England
Dust if you must, but wouldn’t it be better to paint a picture or write a letter, bake a cake or plant a seed, ponder the difference between want and need?
Dust if you must, but there’s not much time, with rivers to swim and mountains to climb, music to hear and books to read, friends to cherish and life to lead.
Dust if you must, but the world’s out there with the sun in your eyes, the wind in your hair, a flutter of snow, a shower of rain. This day will not come around again.
Dust if you must, but bear in mind, old age will come and it’s not kind. And when you go – and go you must – you, yourself will make more dust!
It’s not what you gather,
but what you scatter that tells what kind of life you have lived.
For the first time… our family has made a ‘hijrah’ – a migration. Muhammad and Musa are away for ONE WEEK to attend “Kem Penghayatan Pemantapan Quran” at Madrasah Al-Qurra’ in Alor Gajah, Melaka. Actually, not one week but 8.5 days.
We got to know about the madrasah last year, while doing Infaq. Coach Ridz interviewed Prof. Musa of IKAZ (Institut Kajian Zakat) UiTM Alor Gajah, Melaka. Prof. Musa, an accounting professor, is the founder of Al-Qurra’. His two huffaz sons, Ustaz Yazid and Ustaz Yusuf manage the center.
Muhammad and Musa’s friend, Alif (from Batu Pahat) joined the camp as well. Just nice, a trio on a mission.
Since a picture is worth a thousand words, presenting…
Takbir! Musa has successfully been ‘khatan’-ed last week with his cousin, Ahmad at AnNur BBB.
On the way to the clinic, a lady asked me why I was at the clinic.
“Anak nak sunat,” I replied.
“Aik? Sekolah kan dah nak bukak,” said the lady.
Smiling…”Anak saya tak pergi sekolah..homeschool.”
I joined my better half to accompany Musa – moral support of course plus me kinda curious. I did not witness how the doctor did IT to Muhammad last time. I only joined Muhammad during the stitching session. (It ain’t pretty!)
By the way, Musa is a November baby. He’ll turn 7 in 2009 InshaAllah.
At first, we planned to ‘sunat’ Musa in Taiping with our family doctor. According to him, it is ‘sunnah’ to ‘sunat’ using sharp cutting objects. One thing led to another, we had to make new plans.
So we opted for normal circumcision, not the one with clamp. Apparently at an-Nur, normal means laser…teruskan juga lah.
1. Tell him the reason. Why every Muslim male must go through this. Do your research if you have to..*wink*
2. Tell him the process. What’s going to happen first, next, yadayadayada. Leave out the gory details por favor.
3. Tell him the truth. Will it hurt? “Of course it will, for a while. When something goes through your skin, it’s gonna hurt. But you can handle it. The doctor will put some medicine into your body..etc etc”.
4. At the clinic, chat about other stuff. Make jokes. Or have some kind of “slow talk” – cherish the moment.
1. Put on a happy face. Give salam to the doc. “Whatsup doc!” Happy happy joy joy. It’s contagious. The doc and nurse will be less tense too, hihihi.
2. Keep him (your kid, not the doc) occupied. Abi let Musa play with his brand new one-day old handphone. Me..curi-curi tengok what the doc was doing sambil coaching Musa to zikir a bit.
3. Keep him occupied. I repeat this coz this is muy, muy importante. It’s dangerous for the boy to take a peek. C’mon..needle and hospital don’t really rhyme with jovial, eh?
4. Keep the conversation going…Talk about whatever you like..Silence is deafening.
5. Remember to snap appropriate pics. Censored ones are fine as long as it remains…censored. *Kikikkii*
6. All this while, continue to zikir ya. All is up to Allah Al-Khaliq!
7. Once done, thank the doc and the nurses. ‘nuf said.
The ‘pantang’ session..well that deserves a separate post. Till ‘then..salam!
My conversation with Muhammad last night was refreshing. Based on his observation, when kids go to bed early, they wake up late. In contrast, those who go to bed late will tend to wake up early. (Nota: mungkin hanya terjadi di Casa Escuela sahaja antara tiga makhluk kecil MMM)
Muhammad: (sambil mata memandang Musa yang tidur atas karpet depan TV) Umi, Abang tau sebab apa kalau sleep early, wake up late. Kalau sleep late, wake up early.
Umi: (sambil fikir..ish..beratnya nak alih Musa) Why bang?
Muhammad: If you sleep early, you get the best place so you enjoy and wake up late. But if you sleep late, your place is not comfortable. That’s why you wake up early.
Umi: Hak ahh… Betul jugak ye!!
(Renungan: The kids sleep on the mattress/comforter on the floor in our room. Mungkin ada tempat-tempat tertentu yang sangat ‘cozy’ seperti yang kena aircond or paling dekat ngan umi yang menjadi rebutan. Mungkin juga siapa masuk tidur awal dapat bantal ekstra ke…Whatever it is, kids always look at things from a different perspective.)
rajin-rajinlah bersembang dengan anak-anak!
“So, where are your kids?”
“Oh.. they are at the hotel/motel/resort/guesthouse etc. They follow us wherever we go.”
“How old is the eldest? He doesn’t go to school yet, does he?”
“Muhammad is 7. Musa 6. Maryam 4. They don’t go to school. We do homeschooling.”
Hehhehh..this is where the reaction varies. Frowns. Blank. Eyebrows raised. Curious. Surprised. Shocked. Want to know more. Could care less. Supportive. Whatever.
One side: “You mean, they don’t go school?” “Is it allowed?” “How do they learn?” “Whatabout their UPSR?”
The other side: “Wow!!! That’s interesting.” “My sis homeschools her kids too.” “I’ve read about this before.”
The third one: no response. conversation ends. change subject.
Sure, our kiddos miss out on some stuff like ringing of school bells, the joy of canteen cuisine, the group seating (kumpulan anggur, kumpulan ciku) and jadual kebersihan. Yup, they don’t have the chance to cheer for rumah merah or rumah kuning. Owh…they might never be school prefects!
But, for now, homeschooling is our choice. As their parents, we’d like to exert as much influence (and control) as possible on their learning and education. Selagi boleh, selagi terdaya, InshaAllah.
Seeing real animals sure beats seeing them in pictures.
Maryam creatively colours the right box. The girl’s got taste!
How comfy and cozy and bouncy. Homework-on-bed.
Pretending to sleep….
This post is dedicated to Mektwain and chocolate, cheese, cake, cupcake lovers out there.
It was drizzling. Mu-Mu just finished their karate lesson. Aiyoh..right after he bowed to the sensei, big bro blurted out, “Umi, hungry. Nak chicken wings!” (ek eh..siap request pulak tu). Rezeki that night, Mu-Mu’s Mak Ngah treated us for mamak-cuisine. It was already close to 9 pm and I didn’t want to keep Mektwain waiting.
At last after the boys’ trays looked clean and clear – after 2 1/2 helping- we made our move. Hooray, meeting my new blogbud!
No one can miss the Varsity Cafe! As I stepped in (giraffe-ing my neck to look for her), I saw another young lady did something similar (ostrich-ing coz she was looking out from the kitchen). “Is that a knife in her hand?” Hmm..she’s a chef for real! Confirmed!
So, the blocks exchanged hands. I got my dough..and cupcakes too!!! Gumbiranya hatiku. (Confession to mektwain: deep down inside my heart i was wishing that you’d give me a taste of your chocolatey creation. And I got not one but.. talk about abundance!)
After salam-salam, I made my way out. In the big van of fun, the kids were interrogating me – what’s that? from whom? can we have a look? etc etc. I told them about Mektwain and of course they remember coz Mek has visited their blogs before. As instructed, once home, I put the cupcakes in the fridge – for breakfast 2moro.
After the cleaning-up-b4-bedtime routine, Muhammad came to me. “Umi, can I have the cupcake? Please..abang lapar..”
(please..after roti telur and roti kosong?) He even added, “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet. Lepas makan abang brush!” I succumbed. So, Mu-Mu had a midnite picnic on the kitchen floor INDULGING the choc cheese. They finished one each.
Today after lunch, mi familia had cupcakes for dessert. Selamat!!
“Dengan ini, kami warga casa-escuela coachsha hereby declare that mektwain’s cupcakes bring gastronomical delight to our family.” Salute to you!
Our house is very simple. Minimalist (so far laa…in the future who knows?). Thus, a part of our homeschooling routine is to include our kids in setting the ‘floor’ (not dining table, don’t have one) for mealtime. The first student who will be on the move is our Ketua Kebersihan, Miss Maryam. Whenever she hears the word ‘lunch’, ‘cook’, ‘food’, ‘eat’, automatically she’d ask me for
reconfirmation – “Is it lunchtime/dinnertime?”. Then she’d go and roll out the mat, spread the ‘saprah’ and arrange plastic plates and cups. Sometimes everything is set way before the food is even ready. Talking about efficiency!
‘Crime’ scene: kitchen
Suspect-cum-victim: the girl
Evidence: bits and pieces of cili kering, a knife, a bleeding index finger (blood trickling..) and a little girl in terror
Investigator: the mother
Photographer/interrogator: the father
Sequence of events: The boys taking nap. The baby sleeping like a baby. The father also napping. The mother … resting in peace (pun intended).
Mother heard some noise in the kitchen. Suspected something fishy but the suspect said she was taking milk from the fridge. Heard clinging noise (spoons and forks, kot?)
Mother went to crime scene to investigate. Caught in action. The girl holding a small knife looking at the mother with eyes wide open. “Want to peel the onions,” said the girl. “Naaa..aa..aaa…dangerous. Gimme the knife, please.” Suspect obeyed. Mother returned to enjoy the tranquil afternoon.
Suddenly… “Uwaaaaaa aaaaa aa” Mother rushed to the crime scene (still in ‘pantang’ ya). The girl showed a bleeding index finger. No sharp object in sight. Mother called Father. Mother saw a bigger knife near the sink. Mother cleaned Girl’s cut. A small, cute cut. After the wailing ended, interrogation began.
Father interrogated: Were you using a knife?
Suspect/victim: (shaking head)
F: What hurt you? What happened?
S/V: (sobbing) Spoon…
Hmm…we smelled a rat….but don’t jump the gun yet, don’t get too excited folks.
Same question asked, same answer repeated.
Then come the leading question.
Father took the knife and asked: Which part of this knife hurt you?
Girl: pointed to the middle of the knife.
F: Would you want to use this knife again?
G: (Hid behind Mother, shaking her head profusely). CASE CLOSED. Mother, Father and Girl learnt their lessons.