Quarantine Diaries: Working from Home Headaches

We are now coming to four months on from the start of lockdown, and although restrictions have eased, I am still working from home with no likelihood of returning to the office until at least September.

This means I have productive days, unproductive days, frustrating days

I like that I can exercise in the morning instead of my commute time.

I like that I can greet the kids with love as each one wakes up.

I like that I can watch the kids and see what they are doing, eating, watching.

I love that I can pray on time and with ease as it’s easier to make ablution at home than the office.

But there are days when it is an uphill struggle. Today was one of them:

Back to back meetings

E-mails piling up

Work and tasks growing in the background         

But all of that is part of the job and all you can do is take one thing at a time, focus and do your best.

At least in a vaguely sensible, civilised world that’s all you can do.

Sensible and civilised are limited commodities in my house, especially when the youngest two are on the loose.

Today was the day for them not to play up, especially as I was meeting the Chief Exec, Directors and my manager. So of course everyone did.

The girls got into a fight upstairs and I could hear them screaming upstairs, hubby was making phone calls in the hallways just outside at the top of his lungs and the boys were asking me what was for lunch. Thank God for the mute button and the blurry background effect on MS Teams (where we host our online meetings), I don’t think my offices management team needed to see my husband roaming around in his vest first thing in the morning 😊

If my youngest gets even an inkling that the video is on in a meeting, she will drape herself over me and wait for someone to say how cute she is, so I have to lie and tell her the camera is off before I chase her off.

If Darling gets upset, she sobs loudly (usually with my oldest daughter yelling at her to shut up and let her sleep) until I stop everything and placate her.

And if Gorgeous happens to come out of the little man-cave he has turned our front room into, he’ll start dancing or clowning behind me while I’m in a meeting.

Thankfully my oldest two are sensible and will try to discourage the others from disturbing me and will leave me to work apart from the occasional sidling up and asking for money or trying to show me something on their phones.

Part of me wants to set boundaries and tell them to leave me alone, let me work, or at least not make strange noises or cry loudly when I am speaking to people. A bigger part prioritises the needs of the children and wants to make it clear that the children come first and work later.

Today after solid meetings from 9am to 2pm, I stopped work and just cooked. It gave me a break from working, if not a chance to rest, and it made me feel good to cook something that everyone would enjoy and eat their fill of (rice and chicken).

Then I decided to change the scene, so after prayers, I headed over to my mum with the youngest two and my laptop and logged on again to work for a few more hours.  She kept me company, fed me snacks and my sister kept the girls occupied.

It was the breather and change of scene that I needed. I still came home to a stack of dishes, getting the kids dinner and trying to chase Gorgeous out of his bat cave, but I didn’t feel so harassed and exhausted as I do some days by 5pm.

Tomorrow is another day to navigate and another chance at getting the balance right insh’Allah.

Speaking Well of Our Children

 I have been meeting over the last few days with same colleagues at work to talk about whether we need to sponsor a platform for young people locally to share their stories of racism, particularly their experiences at school.  One of the ladies leading on the project is someone I have a lot of respect for because of her knowledge and experience.

In setting out her motivation to be involved with the project, she mentioned the experiences of her own children. She described them as her “four beautiful Black children”. Her description struck me because of how loving it was and her pride in both the children and their being Black.

It got me thinking about how I view my children and how easy it can be to fall back on complaining about your children as a default. I come from a culture that is quick to criticise, make fun of or be disappointed in children, but struggles to celebrate or encourage them. This doesn’t serve anyone – the parents that start to buy into their own narrative about their children being not good enough or the young people who would flourish so much more under our nurturing, encouraging and positive words.

Even done jokingly – in the way mothers often compare notes on whose child is more mischievous or more of a handful, this can feel discouraging to children.

It made me think about being more careful about the language I use about my children, both to others and myself.  Also, about how saying good things to them and about them is part of being grateful to Allah (SWT) for them.

We are our children’s biggest champion and advocates in the world.  We create the image the world has of them, we can open doors for them in doing so and give them a good start with people.

So insh’Allah I need to keep going back to my narrative about them: my beautiful, fierce, Muslim children. May Alah (SWT) keep them safe and protect them from every evil eye and every bad thing insh’Allah I pray that Allah (SWT) uses them for his deen and is pleased with them and us. Ameen.

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Quarantine Diaries: School Routines

We have been home for about four weeks now and fallen into an easy going school routine. Right in the beginning my youngest two and I sat down together and agreed what a school day should look like. I let them take the lead and they ended up with the following simple routine:

• Sports/PE
• English
• Lunch
• Maths
• Science or topic work (set by school)
• Creative
• Arabic

We kept the routine the same every day, so that they could move from one to the next independently if I was busy or in a meeting. We don’t stick to it too strictly, and my view is if we do 2-3 things a day, I am happy.

The lessons consist of the following things:

Sports/PE

We tried Jo Wicks PE in the beginning, but my older girl is lazy and wasn’t keen.

They both love Cosmic Yoga, so we do this sometimes

Our favourite is badminton which we can play inside and ball skills, which is basically passing the ball or dribbling around obstacles. If it’s cold outside we just play badminton in the living room.

English

At the moment, this is reading, with some reading comprehension, such as telling me about what they have read.

The next step is to introduce short book review.

Otherwise spelling homework from school or grammar and handwriting with a stack of books I found in a £1 shop.

The girls also really like Karate Cats on BBC Bitesize.

Maths

Again this is from the £1 shop books, but I have some ideas around games with money and telling the time (thanks to my sister who is a teacher alhamdulillah).

The girls also like Karate Cats maths lessons.

Fraction garden by Darling 

Science or topic work

This is pretty much set by the school via their Class Dojo app and is around one theme for a few weeks at a time. The girls will complete tasks and I take pictures to send to the teacher via the app.

BBC Bitesize have some amazing lessons across all subjects and ages

Creative

This is everyone’s favourite and the girls will suggest different things everyday: play dough, painting, junk modelling, paper crafts and collaging. This is also sometimes things like cooking or gardening.

We have a box each for play dough, chunky beads for jewellery making, paper crafts, paints and colouring pens and pencils. So it’s easy for them to take one out and then put I back when they are done.

Because our recycling isn’t being collected due to corona virus, but being added to the main rubbish collection, I save clean bits in a big bag in one corner of the kitchen. They take things like loo roll tubes and empty cereal boxes to make things from, whether a school project, an idea of their own, or something they have seen on a YouTube tutorial and want to try.

Jewellery making 

Towel teddy from a YouTube tutorial 

Arabic

This isn’t going so well. The girls were having two lessons a week online, I had to send more time that the teacher practicing every day and it was costing me lots. I have decided to suspend lessons for now and hopefully when things get better, they can join classes at the local masjid. They hired new teachers for the girls just before lockdown and they seemed amazing, so I am hopeful insh’Allah.

For now, it is a hit and miss process and a learning curve for all of us. My priority is for them to be occupied, feel like they are achieving something and to stay happy insh’Allah.

Older Kids

With my older children I have some respite because they all log on online to register attendance and then get on with lessons set by teachers. Luckily my oldest is sensible and keeps n top of her work. The boys are a bot more work and I spend a lot of time waking them up in time to register and attend some lessons. It helps the school will call now and again to tell them off. My oldest son has GCSE’s next year, so I am worried about how much he is missing, but keep cajoling and reminding him to log on and keep up.

How are others doing with their children’s learning journeys? What works or doesn’t work for you? What would your best tips for others be?

Parenting Teens: Hangry Young Man

After much trauma trying to civilise my oldest child, failing and then eventually reaching a truce, I determined to do things differently with my second as he made his way through his teens: firm but fair, kind and compassionate but encouraging independence and responsibility. There are days and weeks when it works and then days where one wrong word or s small argument seems to undo all of the good days.

In recent times (read pre-lock-down) we seemed to be doing okay and getting along well most of the time.  Since lock down though there seems to be more ups and downs, and most of these seem to be related to food. I made him his favourite biryani, but I couldn’t get the usual brand of biryani mix anywhere so I used another, days of moaning ensued about how I ruined his favourite biryani. I made him the chicken strips he requested, but his dad bought thigh rather than breast meat and he complained it tasted different.

After a good few days of this and me explaining there were lots of ingredients we couldn’t always get and that we were lucky to be still eating well, I lost my temper and confiscated his phone and told him at 15 he was old enough to cook for himself, I would be cooking only what I fancied from now on and not what the rest of the houses wanted.

He went to bed hungry and didn’t talk to me for two days. He has just started to thaw a little after realising I was going to continue being kind but firm, continue to talk to him, remind him about prayers and schoolwork and generally carry on as usual. I know what he really, really wants is his favourite take-away. I have resolved not to order it until he fixes his attitude. He could be on for a long wait. Or knowing how much I like food too, maybe not.

My youngest was hanging out with him and eventually came to tell me she was bored as her brother was watching cooking videos 😊

For the latest updates and  stories (including whether I manage to feed the kids or annoy them to death) please do follow me on my Instagram account and Insta-stories. 

Finding Your Bliss and Losing It Again

(Subtitled Don’t Compare Your Children)

Last week I wrote about stepping away from the daily grind and every day routines and spending three days in the path of Allah (SWT).  I stayed with sisters a few miles from home and spent the time in prayer, dhikr, contemplation and learning and doing dawah alhamdulillah.

It was a beautiful three days. I was very grateful for both the opportunity and the beautiful company of gracious sisters.  I came home at the end of the three days feeling inspired, contented and with a bit of an iman boost.  Once I got home, the contentment lasted about 15 minutes with the following wonderful activities killing my good vibes:

There was nothing for iftar apart from a little fruit salad that my mother-in-law had made.

My husband decided to invite another family over because they had no arrangements for iftar.

The time to break our fast was exactly 10 minutes away.

The kids started complaining vociferously about their grandparents and another child that had been staying at ours because his parents had been with us in jamaat.

This super-naughty kid wouldn’t stop annoying my youngest two children.

My in-laws started complaining about my children and the other child – and how they spent the weekend trying to keep them all apart to stop them from killing each other.

The lady who had been invited for iftar wore niqab, so I asked my boys to stay out of the room, Gorgeous was having a silly moment and kept barging in, only for me to shout at him and chase him out again.

I felt bad because the older three were fasting and were the last to be fed
And the kids hadn’t seen me for three days and I barely asked them how they were.

The poor lady guest looked so embarrassed at putting us to last-minute trouble and kept apologising.

I kept telling her it wasn’t her; it was the kids playing up because they were hungry…

There was nothing to do, but head straight for the kitchen, pull everything out of the fridge and freezer I could find and get the kids to start setting things out in both rooms – front room for men, back room for women.  I got everyone to open their fast and kept heating or frying until everyone had something.

I was so embarrassed at being a poor host and embarrassing the lady.  Guests are a blessing for Muslims and deserve to be honoured. I was annoyed that I hadn’t seen the kids for three days and they had organised iftar, kept an eye on their grandparents and cleaned the house and I barely had time to thank and praise them.

The last straw came after the guests had left, I had yet to eat and was trying to clear some space in the kitchen when I heard my in-laws complaining about the kids and hubby moaning they hadn’t even said salaam when he came in.  It might have been the hunger, it might have been the stress hormones pumping in my blood, it might have been annoyance at hubby inviting people last minute or it might have been because I missed my children and barely got to greet them coming home.  It was probably a combination of all of these things, but my brain just blew.

I stormed into the living room sobbing with rage and hurt.  I yelled at all three of them.  The boys happened to be there and took one look at my ugly crying and fled the room forgetting all complaints about grandparents and the naughty boy. 

I had simply had enough of trying to defend my children.  Every time my in-laws come to stay (which is every summer for five months), I find my relationship with my children deteriorate. I tell them off more, I criticise more, I seem to be stopping them from everything more.  The constant comparisons to the perfect children in Pakistan has me thinking that I am doing a poor job and my children are not turning out well.  The constant complaining to me rather than the rest of the adults in the house dealing with poor behaviour when they see it, means I get turned into judge, jury and executioner for the whole household.

Hubby sees all of the perfect boys in the masjid who pray taraweeh, are memorising Quran or are polite and compares to his boys.  I have a friend who tried so hard with her son that she put him through three different Islamic schools until he had a mental breakdown and ended up in a hospital.  Now when her husband compares she tells him “yes he is not good and I am no good, lets leave it at that”.  But the pain etched on her face is hard to see and her guilt is palpable, her son no longer speaks to her.  I felt so guilty when I took Little Lady out of Islamic school, but her behaviour had deteriorated too and I could see no point in forcing her to continue.

The neighbourhood where I spent the three days in jamaat was in east London and one which seem to have an issue with drugs and crime which is now affecting Muslim youth.  One of the ladies who visited us both days to sit in the study circle and lectures and even made us food for iftar, would sit with us and cry asking us to pray for her.  Both her and her husband had been very religious but had been too strict and this had pushed their sons away both from them and their faith.  I kept hearing these stories again and again.

I told my husband and my in-laws, they could walk to the end of our street right now and buy drugs, they could see the main road full of prostitutes.  Or they could walk the other way to the back streets and see girls in hijab hanging out with boys at this time of night – my kids were in the house.  I told them I was one of the only girls in my class who didn’t smoke in high school – no one bothers with cigarettes now, it’s straight to weed and upward promotion from there.

I remembered how hard it is when your parents are telling you one thing and stopping you from everything and the world is inviting you to everything else with open arms.  At this time dad-in-law graciously tried to interject and said yes, it’s bad in Pakistan too, back in the village almost every boy is hooked on drugs.  But I wasn’t having it, I didn’t give a damn about his village and I was on a roll.

At this point I was still sobbing my eyes out and shouting at everyone.  Hubby tried to leave for taraweeh and I told him to come back and fight like a man.  He rolled his eyes and said he would deal with this later. My mum-in-law tried to skirt around me with her walking frame to get to the bathroom to wash up for prayers.  I wasn’t having it and side-stepped to block her way.

Hubby left for the masjid, the in-laws got another ten minutes of tears and somewhat more subdued lecturing about the state of the youth today and how I didn’t intend to alienate my children no matter how flawed they are (I might have used more colourful language about them…).  Then they went to pray, and I went back to the kitchen, cleared up and got something to eat at almost 11pm. 

I felt guilty and embarrassed, but I also felt like a load had been taken off my shoulders.  I may have done it with ugly crying, but I had got my point across.  Hubby may have acted like he wasn’t listening, but he has been more easy going with the boys since, bringing them take out after taraweeh and watching football with them.  The in-laws seemed to have stopped their moaning, or at least are being a bit more thoughtful before they make a compliant.

I lost my bliss pretty quick that day, but I have slowly gained it back – because I spoke up before things got worse, because the kids know I am on their side, because people will think twice before they make petty complaints and because the three days in jamaat made me realise we demand too much of our kids and forget how tough it is to be young and Muslim in today’s world – it’s our job to help make it easier not so hard that our kids walk away from both us and our faith.

The Prophet ṣallallāhu 'alayhi wa sallam (peace and blessings of Allāh be upon him) said: “Indeed each of you is a shepherd and each of you will be questioned regarding his flock. The commander who is in authority over people is responsible and he will be questioned regarding his responsibility. The man is responsible over the inhabitants of his house and he is the one who will be questioned about them. The wife is responsible in her husband’s house and she will be questioned about it. The servant is responsible regarding his master’s property, and he will be questioned about it. Indeed, each of you is a shepherd and each of you will be questioned about his flock.” (Bukhari & Muslim, narrated by ‘Abdullah Ibn ‘Umar)

“My Lord, grant me from Yourself a good offspring. Indeed, You are the Hearer of supplication.” ~ Quran 3:38

Ibn ‘Abbas (radhiallahu ‘anh) said: The Prophet ṣallallāhu 'alayhi wa sallam (peace and blessings of Allāh be upon him) used to seek refuge in Allah for al-Hasan and al-Husain, saying: “I seek refuge for both of you in the perfect words of Allah from every devil and every poisonous thing and from the evil eye which influences.” He would then say: “your father sought refuge in Allah by them for Ismail and Ishaq.” (Sunan Abi Dawud)

“Do not raise your children the way [your] parents raised you, they were born for a different time.” ~ Ali Bin Abi Thalib (radhiallahu ‘anh)

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A Few Quiet Days Off

I have taken a few days off this week and next week during the children’s Easter break from school. I had lots of annual leave and extra hours from work that I had to use up before the end of the financial year or lose them.  I was looking forward to a break from the overwhelm of work, spending time with the children and catching up with housework.

We had hoped the weather would improve and we could go away for a few days. Unfortunately, our family car was stolen and it’s still grey and raining. So, we are at home. I kind of don’t mind. I can’t remember the last time I had the luxury of doing things slowly, or even having some time free with nothing to do – just reading, blogging if I feel like it, or roaming around the house aimlessly.

I am having to fight the urge to do “things” and the anxiety that I am not being productive.  Now that I have had a few days to mull over it and sit with it, it’s making me realise how relentless I can be with myself an everyone around me.  We must be doing something all the time, anything, being productive, aiming for something.  It drives me up the wall to see people doing nothing when they could be cleaning, organising, working, studying, revising, something. Even holidays and rest time for me involve doing something.

It makes me wonder what drives me in this way, some insecurity? Some fear of not having enough, doing enough or being enough?  I will sit with this a bit longer, doing nothing and feeling uncomfortable and see where it takes me.

In other news, my house feels like a battlefield at the moment.  Both hubby and I have had enough of the teenagers angry and rude behaviour in the last few months and decided enough is enough. Little Lady is rude and likes to hide in her room. Little Man is angry and explodes at every turn picking on his younger siblings and shouting and swearing.

We have tried being patient, praising good behaviour, not forcing religion down their throats and listening to what they say. We have tried being gentle, kind and treating them like young adults.  But there is a limit to our endurance and the level of rudeness and disrespect we can tolerate.  So I have taken away their phones, no takeaway or junk food, or privileges and no fun during school holidays.  Little Lady has responded by disappearing into her room once more and being surly and painfully sarcastic.  Little Man is furious. He is adamant he will get worse and we haven’t seen anything yet. He is refusing to talk to me except to say vehemently that he doesn’t want to talk to me.

I have tried to talk them down (sometimes successfully), I have tried reasoning, I have tried encouraging them to talk to me about makes them angry, I have taken their side when they needed me to.  But I am so, very tired of it all.  I can’t tolerate both their Dad and I being spoken to with rudeness and contempt.  I wouldn’t tolerate it from work, my wider family or the world in general, so how can I accept it from the children I do everything for? Months, even years, of day in day out fighting with them has left me feeling bruised and battered.  I ask myself isn’t this what parents are supposed to do?   Absorb the anger and keep going, keep being there, keep loving unconditionally?

I have questioned everything with them – my parenting, my values, my way of living out my faith. I have lost sleep and cried myself to sleep. In the end my husband reminded me – we have to keep strong; we have to stay united, we have to be firm in our beliefs and in doing what feels like the right thing with our children.  In the end they will all go their own way and we will be left together. 

At the end, I don’t know what to do any more. Except to be quiet, to be firm in what feels right and to keep going. To act with love, kindness and patience. To listen, to pray and ask Allah (SWT) for help, trusting he is the one that answers out prayers.

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Things that are Super Hard About Being a Muslim Parent

I have had some hard and very heartfelt conversations with my husband in recent times, about trying to do the right thing, trying to raise your children in what seems to be the right way and still seeming to get it wrong.

Like the following:

We have never had a TV, for reasons explained here. We have tried to replace it with quality time, games and books, days out and crafts.  Now the kids are complaining that they need one and friends and neighbours are telling us we should get one.

We tried to teach our kids about the Prophet (sallallahu alaihi wasallam), Sahabah (RA) and good role models.  Now they are interested in Youtube and Instagram culture. I cannot even begin to explain how pernicious, disrespectful, unIslamic and toxic some elements of this culture are and they are just under the radar of most parents (another post coming on this!)

We tried to limit tech and avoided giving our children mobile phones because we felt it would impact their concentration and affect their studies, they are adamant they are the only kids in the world that don’t have them.

We tried to make sure we earned only halal and fed them only halal so that they would be good people and do good deeds insh’Allah.  This means that our income provides them with everything they need but does not extend to luxuries.  All they see is that their classmate get to go on expensive holidays and have expensive devices – I have no idea how when half of them are on benefits.

I have had nothing but censure and nasty comments from my own community for being a Muslim working mother.  Between hubby and I we get by and try to help others where we can.  But it has been about 10 years since I flew abroad, even to see family in Pakistan (it would cost us about £6-7,000 just for tickets to Pakistan in the school holidays).  The same people who think it is fitnah for a woman to work, go abroad every year because they get benefits and free or subsidised housing from the government, even when some of them don’t seem to be entitled because they are working.  They don’t see anything wrong with any of this, but what I do is still wrong.

The painful thing is, that their children are well-behaved and becoming hafiz of the Quran or scholars.  It does not make sense to me at all and makes me questions everything we have done.

Hubby goes in the path of Allah (SWT) for three days every month and forty days every year alhamdulillah.  He teaches, leads study circles, encourages people to come to the masjid and calls to Islam.  In the beginning it was hard to be apart from one another but we were fully committed to the importance of dawah in our lives. When Hubby started his dawah work, I knew the children missed him and the boys especially played up when he was not there. We also had the promise that those that take care of Allah’s religion, Allah (SWT) will take care of their affairs, including their children’s tarbiyyah.

Now we get to see the kids doing anything to avoid going masjid or Islamic talks and questioning whether hijab is right for them.  It makes me questions everything we have done.

After much soul-searching and anxious introspection, there are some things I feel I have to trust and hold on to:

Much of the behaviors we are seeing with our teens now are just normal behaviors - they are growing, challenging, testing boundaries and trying to work things out. Plus those hormones are all over the place.

It’s not meant to be easy, enjoyable or perfect, our children are not for us to show of what good parents we are, but a test from Allah (SWT) that we have to undergo with patience:

"Your wealth and your children are only a trial (fitnah). And Allah - With Him is a great reward (Paradise)." (Quran 64:15)

"And know that your possessions and your children are but a trial (fitnah) and that surely with Allah is a mighty reward." (Quran 8:28)

When we see others getting it perfectly right, we have to remember that we don’t see the whole picture, only what they choose to let us see. How many Muslim families have to deal with dark things behind closed doors?

I also think we have to trust in what we have worked for.  As teenagers the children will challenge and question everything we have taught them.  As adults, I hope and trust that they will come back to it and embrace it and see why we did things the way we did.

Finally, we have to trust in Allah SWT), He can see the big picture when we can’t.  He knows where our path is leading when we don’t.  Perhaps what you sow isn’t realised immediately, but slowly and over time.  We just trust that He loves us and as always will be true to His promise.

Reading back over this, I hope I am not making my children sound like monsters.  I can see what they are growing and have their own opinions and take on life.  We are going to have to accept that and accept choices we might not agree with.  I can see also that sometimes our disagreements are painful for them and they express their pain as anger which is hurtful to us.  Clearly my role as their mother doesn’t diminish at this time, but rather I must grow with them and support them to be good people and good Muslims insh’Allah.

An elderly and experienced scholar staying at the masjid recently spoke at length about the children of religious families and how many were finding their children move away from or leave Islam.  All they had heard about growing up was punishment and guilt tripping for bad deeds and were tired of it.  He mentioned the importance of two things: positive language and examples in Islam and also making sure that the family spend a little time together for daily taleem (Islamic study) every day as this stops fitnah (evil or negative influence) coming into the home from all its various souces.

At the moment we are doing this in the shape of one hadith with some commentary and one sunnah that we can implement in our lives.  We take five to ten minutes and insh’Allah some of it will stick.

What challenges have you had with raising children in your faith and how have you overcome them?

Terrible Teens

There are days when the boys are just too much for me. I have no idea how my mother-in-law raised five boys without any help at all. Today has been one for those days and I have told my two boys to stay well away from me because I just cannot take any more.

My older son, previously mild-mannered and sweet natured, is quick to anger and is very liberal with his hands at the moment, pushing, shoving and tripping his younger brother.

My youngest is easy going and silly, but responds to every touch at the top of his lungs as if he is being murdered and also by swearing.  He then takes his frustration out at me:

“You let him hit me”

“You don’t stop him”

“You don’t care”

“You don’t deal with it, why should I listen to you”

All this before I have had the chance to talk to his older brother.

He also misses no chance to irritate his brother, answer him back or provoke an argument.

I have had about eighteen months of this and it has worn me down.  The boys spent the last three days in Hastings with their dad and it has been peaceful and calm.  Then last night they returned and the nonsense started again.  I have spent the whole day mediating and consoling.  Except I don’t want to do it anymore.  I am tired of chasing, holding back, telling eight times or shouting.  Right now my voice is hoarse and my I just don’t want to face anyone.

The last straw was when they kicked off in front of guests today. For the hour that they were here I don’t think we could have one sensible conversation.  I would expect that from little ones, except the babies were as good as anything.  But from an 11 and 13 year old, I expect better.  They spent the hour fighting, complaining, arguing and in Gorgeous’ case crying.  I had to drag them out and then shout at them in front of guests.  I was so embarrassed.

As soon as the guests left, I called their dad and complained and asked him to start taking them to work with him on days they are not at school.  A bit of hard work might help use up the spare energy and teach them some manners.  Hubby is not keen, but I am going to insist I think.

I sometimes look back at my approach of gentle parenting and allowing my children to have a voice and disagree with me respectfully and wonder if has backfired.  Perhaps those parents that put the fear of God in their children and take a more authoritarian approach have the right idea and maybe a more peaceful life.  I wonder where the boundaries around hitting, bad language, respecting your parents and behaving in front of guests have fallen away.  If I get a repeat of today I’m not sure what I will do, but for the time being they seem to have realised I have hit my limit and gotten very quiet.

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Not So Little Any More

I have been blogging since Little Lady was four, Little Man two and Gorgeous was six months old. I had no idea that the Babies would also make their way to me one day.  Looking back on my first post, I cannot believe how long ago that was.  This blog had served as a place to capture my journey as a mum and also the challenges of work and staying true to my faith.

My three eldest are not so Little any more, two are teens and the third is not far behind.  They are confident, doing well at school so far and also incredibly mouthy.  Often I am proud of them, sometimes I am sick with worry about how they will turn out.  I have to remind myself to trust in my parenting in their early years, my faith in Allah (SWT) and also them and tell myself that they will come out of their teen better people than I could imagine (insh’Allah).

Recently I managed to get the babies into bed on time for once and all of my housework done.  A peaceful, lazy evening beckoned.  Instead, these three decided to camp on my bed and pester me for the next three hours until their dad came home.

They misbehaved while I prayed, teased me, made fun of their poor dad mercilessly and refused to leave.  They then fell to reminiscing about their younger days and started telling me about all of the naughty things they had done and gotten away with – I couldn’t believe some of the mischief they had made in primary school!

I eventually chased them out when their dad came home.  It was nice hanging out with my three older kids who are now all as tall as me and like to remind me of the fact.  It was like a conversation with adults – fun and interesting. It was also a nice (if short) break from some of the teenage tantrums and drama I have been dealing with in the last two years or so.

By the way, I have been thinking that Little Lady and Little Man need new names -seeing as he is taller than me and she almost as tall and ten times as bossy.  I will have to have a think. Gorgeous is still my ray of sunshine, so he can stay Gorgeous for life insh’Allah 😊

Loneliness and Motherhood: Parenting Muslim Teens

When we share out experience of motherhood we talk about the challenges such as exhaustion and losing ourselves and the exhilaration of love and satisfaction that being a mum can bring.  But it’s not so often we talk about loneliness.  Occasionally, the conversation is about how hard it can be to be the mother of a small child – the loss of social life or the shrinking of your world to where your pram can get to. 

I never experienced this loneliness as a mum, I had my family nearby, my grandmother lived with me and then my in-laws would stay for five months every year.  I would return to work after maternity leave, where I would have friends to go to lunch with.  Hubby was always my sounding board and my sisters are good to talk to too.  Perhaps I never had time to be lonely, if anything I was so rarely alone that I craved and savoured moments of isolation.

But then being surrounded by people, is not the same as not being lonely.  For the first time in my life I am getting first hand experience of what that means.

Parenting teens can be a lonely business.  Your little ones put you on a pedestal, you are the best mum in the whole world, the loveliest and the kindest.  As they approach their teens, their opinion changes and sometime it’s as if nothing you do seems right. 

You set boundaries, so restrict them from what they want.  We have had a tug of war over more freedom for my children that neither of us seem to be winning.  Everything you do or say leads to eye rolling and complaint.  All of the hard work you put in when they were small seems to have been ineffective and the kids are suddenly questioning your values about hijab, Quran study, music and all sorts of other things.

Where you were celebrated, now you are the focus of all complaints and you feel as if everything you do is wrong.  I remind myself that some of this because I am my children’s safest space to vent and dump their frustrations, sometimes they just need reassurance or a little kindness and attention.  It still doesn’t make it easy and sometimes I find myself veering between questioning everything I do and steeling myself against criticism enforcing the boundaries in what feels like a heartless way.

The loneliness is not just inwards, but outwards too.  When your little ones are tiny, everyone shares the pain.  People know about the discomfort of pregnancy and childbirth, followed by the sleepless nights, nursing and all that goes with a small baby then a toddler (potty training anyone?).  If they don’t know, you are happy to share it with people and there is always another new mum who you can share stories with.

But people are not so quick to talk about their teens. Not when things are not peachy perfect.  Who admits if kids aren’t doing well at school, or when they suddenly go from cute to gangly, spotty, funny looking things.  My oldest won’t let me take pics of her anymore and certainly I wouldn’t dare share them with anyone, she would see that as a breach of trust.  No one wants to admit that their daughter is being flooded with hormones and a superficial culture that is making her question wearing hijab so young or boys that just can’t see why they can’t play on the streets or go to the park alone like their friends.

More and more I cans see that they are testing their boundaries and questioning everything in a way that is normal for their age.  I am sure they are not the only ones.  But when people ask how they are, you say fine, all good and smile.  They do the same and no-one admits that their teens are anything less than perfect because if they are not amazing by this point, it is clearly too late and you are a loser who could not bring their children up properly.  So you continue to deal with the battles alone – feeling vilified and questioning all that you have done.

Family is not much better - your other half is just confused and annoyed about what happened to your previously lovely children, your in-laws offer unsolicited advise that feels judgemental and makes you feel a failure and your parents still think their grand kids are perfect and you must be doing something wrong.  Although my mum occasionally reminds me wryly what I was like as a teenager.  My siblings all have small children who have a long way to  their teen years (although we occasionally call the little girls three-nagers because of their diva attitudes).

For those of you who are in the same position, there are a few things that help me:

Remembering my own teenage years – I remember being irritated by my mum as a teen and not agreeing with her about anything.  I think I am slowly turning into her now and I love her like crazy and feel very protective about her now.

Trust in Allah and your own hard work – all those dua’s, those salah’s and supplications.  All the effort and self-sacrifice.  When you do it for Allah (SWT), I know He doesn’t waste a single word or deed or second of pain or discomfort that you have said or done out of His fear or love.  I trust that my kids will come out of their teen years and what we taught them will make itself apparent in their lives and behaviour.  I do believe they will be good people one day insh’Allah.  No I believe they are now.

Remembering the vulnerable little ones they were – When Little Lady makes me want to shout, I remember the time I brought her home for the first time from the hospital.  I used to try and make her smile every day. so I can take a picture.  How much I loved holding her.  I remember being confused at how funny she looked when she was born and promising I would love her anyway.  She is still the same and I still love her the same.  The other day I was tiding her room and found an old doll she had since she was tiny tucked in a corner of her bed.  I laughed out loud, despite her old soul she does still have some of that messy, playful little girl in her.

Thinking of the reward – nothing good comes easily or without sacrifice.  And what is as great as the reward promised to a mother:

The Prophet Muhammad said, may Allah's peace and blessings be upon him: Your Heaven lies under the feet of your mother (Ahmad, Nasai).

I would love to hear from mothers going through this or who have come out the other side and learn from them.