Ramadan has come and gone, along with Eid. I wish I could create the atmosphere of Ramadan in Jerusalem in my home but I can’t. I miss it. I hope to go back with my son one day.
But this isn’t about Ramadan per say, it’s about the 4th of July and the fireworks that got me thinking about bombs. Yes, you read that right. Bombs.
This year we heard a lot of fireworks going off and as my son gets older and more aware of the world around him he was scared of the loud ka-boom! that he heard. Which led me to think about all the children around the world who the sound of bombs is the norm and how they must be suffering. It hurts my heart to think about it. So, I will pray that they have sabr (patience) along with their parents. Find ways to give back to those whose lives are affected by the sound of bombs and hope they find peace.
I am Privileged.
I am sad. Not because something bad happened, or someone hurt my feelings but because I realized that my baby, Mr. handsome, is no longer a baby. He isn’t tiny enough to fit in my arms. He no longer coos when he is delighted to see me. He screams “Mommy”! He no longer is a baby and that is sad. It’s sad because those days are over. My son is 2 almost 3 and he is no longer a baby. It still amazes me every day how much he has grown and learned. How much I can love him. How much I love him that my heart is about to burst. But I’m sad because my baby is no longer a baby. My baby is a little boy. And I love him even more.
I love this parody…it’s just too funny!
This post was going around facebook a couple of weeks ago.
It’s sweet really. I think older couples have a lot of wisdom to give but that isn’t what caught my eye. It was the comments following the post. Some were legitimate, like abuse but others were just excuses. We live in a different time, we don’t have the same ideals, we don’t have the same societal restrictions. I understand that everyone has their reasons for getting a divorce or staying together but relationships are hard work. Whether they are friendships, family or marriage. It takes time and effort to build these things and they shouldn’t be taken lightly.
It’s sometimes easier to just take the easy way out than try to work things out. Now, sometimes the easy way out is to stay together and just be unhappy. I have seen many couples fall into that trap but sometimes you just need a little hard work. Is there a universal answer as to how to make a marriage work? I don’t think so because every marriage is different. Can we gain insight from other people? Of course. Do I have all the answers? No, but I sure am learning.
What do you think?
I have heard this word a lot lately from various women I know. It seemed like a common thread among them. A sort of code for something bigger and scarier than they wanted to admit.
I dislike the word, no dislike is too nice. I despise the word. I feel like it’s a way to lower your value. Make it seem like what you are doing is okay because “Hey, I’m a coward”. I wonder where they got it from. Why do we just live our lives with this idea that being a coward is okay? Why do women feel like they can’t “handle” certain things or does it make them more appealing to men?
I get their fears, I really do but why do we let fears rule our lives? Why can’t we empower ourselves and not look for someone to empower us? Why do we raise our daughters to be self proclaimed “Cowards” instead of teaching them to be leaders, heros, and just strong women.
We need more strong women and not women who are comfortable with the label of “coward”.
Yet, I know many strong women and I’m proud to know them. I just wish there were more. History is full of amazing women, even Islamic history.
People out there, help our daughters, wives, sisters, friends and family members change the word coward to strong. Let’s see where that takes us.
I have been having a lot of conversations lately but not with people. Well, not with a person that is with us today. The person I have been talking to is my unborn child.
We have talked about love, life, why people act the way they do, family and why people call each other mean names and let me tell you, my child is smart. Or so I have decided in my head.
I can’t wait to meet this little person and I can’t wait to be a mom. I hope some of these conversations come to life in the future.
The countdown begins. Almost to the finish line.
Hurry up, little one. Hurry up.
It’s a story non-the-less but it isn’t your typical love story.
That is the line in my head. I don’t know why it is stuck there but it sure is. I have been reading a lot of entries on love InshAllah‘s website lately and I guess I just wanted to discuss it. Share with someone what I have read, learned and been enlightened by. This last post has caught my eye, my mind and my heart. It resonates with me on a very deep level. I felt what the writer felt and I shared her fears.
I know where she is coming from and I know where it ends. It makes me realize that this just doesn’t happen to me. Other people have been through this, feel this and understand this. This isn’t a story that is unique to me and my family but people across the world have experienced it.
And the amazing part is, we all have survived. We made it through and created our own stories, families and lives. It’s amazing how resilient a person can be.