This handsome guy is my first born, Mohamed. He is 15 years old and talented beyond his years in art. Mohamed has a passion for drawing and painting and animating his own comics. He can sit in front of the laptop for hours creating comic book characters using the paint program or in front of a sketch pad with a pencil for even longer. Of course, this can sometimes get in the way of studies. But to his way of thinking, studies usually get in the way of his artwork. Mohamed carries a lot of responsibility. He is the oldest of five kids, one of whom is autistic. He is usually the one who stays home and keeps an eye on whichever of the younger ones I've decided
to NOT take with me on whatever errand I'm running. He seems to take it with a grain of salt that he rarely goes with me anywhere one on one. I do try to make a concerted effort to take just him with me sometimes...which usually means we have to literally RUN the errand because Ismail plus his siblings with no adult supervision usually means FIST FIGHT before I get halfway back home. But Mohamed is a good sport about it and we usually get our one-on-one time together at night after the pesky younger kids are asleep.
Hamo is extremely polite and well-mannered and is always being complimented by neighbors and family and friends about how well-behaved he is. I'm always left proud by these remarks...and scratching my head wondering, "WHY do you use it all up on them? Why do I deserve all the 'buttheads' and 'shut ups' and 'I'm going to pound you into dusts'?" He's a good kid for the most part.......that's saying a lot about a teenager!
He has his moments and he carries that infamous "put upon" attitude exactly as described in THE CATCHER IN THE RYE. But I think that that is something that is synonomous with teenage boys and is not unique to him. He inherited his inability to let someone else have the last word in an argument from his grandmother. (Well, you CERTAINLY didn't think I'd admit it was from ME, did you?)
Hamo is a sweet and loving and caring boy who comes across to many as awkward and shy. He's both of those things but he's soooo much more. He's sensitive and deep and devout in his deen (Islam) and he wants to learn how to cook and help his father with work and volunteered 2 or 3 years ago that if (God forbid) something were to happen to my husband and me, that he would be the one who would take care of Randa. His reasoning was because she "likes him best" out of all the siblings and she listens to him more than the others. I love how selfless he is sometimes. I think we're doing something right with him. And he is one of the brightest spots in my life. I tell him all the time how I waited 26 years for him to come into my life and how my life will never be the same since he entered it.
I have decided to postpone number 5 of 5 in the "Bright Spots in My Day Today" series.
Primarily because my kids all ceased being "bright spots" and turned into "black holes"
in the last 3 days. I love them all with all of my heart. But I just don't like them right now.
They're all sick and driving me up a tree. I cook, clean, dole out meds, put them in bed,
buy fruit and make soup. They in turn throw their dirty socks on the floor, run out onto
the balcony with short sleeves on, blow their noses and then throw the dirty tissues onto
each other, complain how they don't like this or that for dinner, get out of bed 47,000
times to fight and pee and drink water only to have to pee again and then fight about whose
turn it is to shut the light off.
Ismail is on my short list for the first available childless couple in search of a cute 12-yr
old to adopt. It's raining cats and dogs outside, the window in the back bedroom has water
running into it from the roof of the building and I'm almost out of towels. On top of all that,
I still don't have t.v. because I never replaced the ripped up cable to the satellite dish and
Frontierville on Facebook refuses to load. I swear I'm losing it. If it weren't so wet and cold
outside, I'd be heading to the pharmacy for Prozac. *sigh*
This too shall pass...this too shall pass....this too shall pass.
So, here's my other beautiful daughter, Samiya! She's 11 years old and sharp as a tack. She makes straight A's and loves to read and write and play word games with me. She's definitely in the genius range on the I.Q. chart and I do not say this only because she's my kid. She's got the makings of a rocket scientist or a neuro-surgeon. Of course, she also loves people and wants to be a mom when she grows up but as to any career choices, she remains undecided. I'm just saying she's smart enough to write her own ticket.
Could be she's going to be a guitarist...she has a deep love for music. She's also quite athletic and definitely owns the goal when playing soccer with her brothers and some of the younger boys on our street. When the big boys come, though, she sits out. "They always aim at my face, the jerks," she complains. Samiya is for the most part, a pretty good girl. But not unlike her siblings, she's got quite a streak of ornery in her. The difference between her and Ismail or Aiman is that she is also a bit sly. I remember walking in on her when she was 4 coaching Aiman to stand on the dining room table and dance. When I cleared my throat she looked right at me and said, "Mommy, look what Aiman is doing! Are you going to spank him?"
"Yup. Right after I spank you!" She yelled YIKES and took off to the bedroom to hide under her bed.
Samiya is our resident "news anchor" and we have a running joke about her becoming the youngest correspondent for Al-Jazeera or CNN. Does she tattle? You betcha. We're working on that, though. And she's trying hard to quit. Samiya is also sweet and helpful. She sometimes will go clean out one of her brothers' closet or make everyone's bed just because she felt like it. Talk about your random acts of kindness! She helps me to clean house every Friday while the boys are at the mosque for Juma'a (Friday)
prayers. She knows how difficult it is for me to keep up with the housework alone during the week while
all of the kids are buried under homework and studies. So we sweep out the house, change the bed linens,
hang clothes, dust and scrub out the bathrooms while the boys are out from under our feet. She's quite a
Samiya and Aiman have the same voice pitch and sometimes she will fake like she is Aiman and start making noises or singing loudly in order to get him into trouble with me. The minute I yell, "AIMAN! BE QUIET!" I can hear her crack up laughing while I hear him do that, "UNNNHHHHHHH! IT'S NOT ME!" whine.
Rotten girl. Samiya is tough as nails and has actually laid me out with a right cross during a kick-box lesson from me. I was trying to teach her the right positioning to land a right cross and got just a little too much "in her grill" and she got me right across the jaw and knocked me to the ground. Then she turned all girl on me and started that high pitched squealy nervous laugh combined with "I'm sorry, Mommy! I didn't think it would work."
OH it worked baby. She rocked my molars. I love this kid beyond belief. She's definitely a light in my life.
An Irish-American Muslim stay-at-home-mom, raising 5 teenagers sans alcohol and vying for Mother-of-the-Year Award nominations while struggling to fit somewhere in the world other than just her own couch.
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