That’s all that matters.

The best view for me is the one without my glasses and Ibraheem seated on my lap, chattering away. For my farsighted eyes, everything else is a blur except his handsome face.
The sparkle in his eyes and the dimple on his cheek when he smiles, just melt my heart. I cherish his pearly whites, peeking at me whenever he opens his mouth and the feel of his little fingers tracing the landscape of my face.
“Eyes”.
A soft poke at my closed lids.
“Nose”.
A little, gentle push with his index finger.
“Mouffff.” (He still can’t make the ‘th’ sound)
His finger slowly traces my lips and as I smile, he touches my teeth.
This is when nothing else matters.
Not the clutter of his toys, strewn all around the living room.
Not the cookie crumbs sprinkled like sand on the carpet.
Not the untouched pile of books that are supposed to be read before the summer vacation.
All that looks hazy and bleary.
The only thing in focus is my son. And that’s all that matters.
As he crawls out of  my lap, bored of his biology lesson, I thank Allah for my farsightedness. Grateful for those precious and blessed moments, when everything else is a blur, except for his face, inches away from mine.

What have I done?

What a long way we've come, from those days of carefree fun.

The days when there was no worry, no rush, no panic, no hurry.

When we lived in the moment, no fear of what is to come.

The days of youth, how solemn they've become.

We've realized our mistakes, and tried to make amends.

Realized that every stick will break, if, too far it's bent.

We've shunned old habits and idle talk.

We've finally learned to walk the Prophet's walk.

We've stepped into our Mother's shoes and understood her worries and woes.

We've accepted that we're humans, created to do sin.

Striving to suppress the shaitan within.

We've acknowledged that with open arms Allah awaits,

For His true believer to make haste.

Before the time comes when time will be no more.

When the hearts of whom we leave behind, will be sore.

When two sheets of white will replace our glamour and galore.

When for the questions we're asked, we'll have an answer, none.

Then we'll ask "What have I done?"

Nothing left behind and nothing to look forward to.

The dynamics in the Middle East are changing ever so quickly. Tunisia has kicked off a revolution of sorts. I am glad we were able to visit Jordan, Syria and Yemen and see first hand the state of these countries under the current leaders. The tourist venues and places of interest were very well maintained and clean. But driving around the countries, there were many areas that were badly in need of repair.  It was quite clear that the wealth is not distributed evenly through out the two countries. There was hardly any middle ground between the posh and impoverished. It makes you wonder how these people are able to live in such deteriorating conditions for so long. No wonder they've pounced on this opportunity to bring about change. And now, when pro-Mubarak protesters are ruining the peaceful protests, the army is encouraging the people to go home. Go home to what? A dark home and no food on the table? To a life that will be no different then the one they just left behind? To days of boredom with no job or goals? These people had nothing to occupy themselves and they came out to protest for lack of something better to do. Social bums created by  the 'leaders for life', finally standing up and demanding their rights.

Yay for wireless!

Allhumdulillah we found this really good wireless provider, Zain. I can't believe we didn't know about it before. They should really have a welcome package for the new comers here and have all this information in there. (Hmm...that's a eureka moment..) So we had this extremely slow cable net connection which took forever to download. We also have VOIP so it was always conflicting with the sound on the phone. Unfortunately this new wireless doesn't have a connection for the VOIP. I think we might just downgrade the cablenet and keep it just for the phone. But yay for wireless! I feel so mobile and liberated. And we don't have to worry about the half a dozen wires protruding for underneath the desk which Heemu loves to pull! Allhumdulillah!

I think this place is finally starting to feel like home. It only took like about a year! I guess because I know that we're not going to live here permanently, that thought made the transition much more delayed. Last year, I was anxiously waiting for the summer so I could go back home. This year, not so much, because I feel like I'm home already. Allhumdulillah, I have a really good neighbour right next door. We're always making random visits and sharing food. Plus I'm keeping busy with some other friends during the week as well (shopping trips, playdates, cooking dates, initiating a book club of sorts as well). I'm going to the gym and hope to Insha'Allah join a tajweed class too. My mind is too occupied with things to do to remember that I have to go back in the summer.

Plus I have started making some pleasure buys to make the place more homely. Well at least the kitchen. That's the one place that Heemu can't tear apart. Once Ibraheem gets a little older, I'll dress up the family room as well. Right now it's very bare but very baby friendly. We got the place furnished so not having had the satisfaction of decorating myself may have also added to the 'hotel-like' feeling of the place. But I've started jazzing it up a little, started giving it my own special touch. I've started 'owning' the place. And that has helped to make it feel like a home. But in the long run, when I think of settling down, I don't see myself here. My idea of home will always be Canada. That's where I grew up, that's where I spent a good chunk of my life, made many good friends and captured so many memories. If Allah wills, that's where I would like my children to grow up as well, Insha'Allah.