She and I.

She runs downstairs on Sunday mornings to shine up the dishes, using Clorox bleach. One after the other, she puts teacups, saucers and small plates into a big white round plastic bowl of water, bleach and soap suds.

While she lets them soak, she scrubs the kitchen stove, sweeps the floor, pulls out the mop and gives the refrigerator a few wipes. If she has time, she will examine the microwave as well.

Her morning may start at 8 a.m., or 9. It always ends by 11 a.m., when she heads to the mosque to learn a few more things on how to carry out her life.

She has three kids; one infant, a toddler and a kindergartner.

---

I wake up and pray. I feed my son and fall back asleep. When I awake, I examine my to-do list for the day and debate how much time I have before going to the mosque.

I trail downstairs around 9:30 a.m., start breakfast, as the rest of the family is about done. I make rice, vacuum unless it's been done and make rice for the family. I feed my son, then clean the dishes and finally stomp upstairs to help my husband on his files before getting ready to go to the mosque.

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On other days, I come from school, change my clothes and decide what to do first: feed son or start homework. Usually I take care of my son first.

I eat, pray and finally sit down on my laptop or prop open a book to read.

The doorbell rings. Someone comes over. I decide how to get through my next task.

Should I go downstairs, clear the room, or continue my work?

How shady will it be to ignore the visitor, who I have probably ignored in the past to do homework, simply to avoid gossip or work that will push back my to-do list.

On the other hand, she takes out the snacks, that she made while either staying up late or waking up early on weekdays.

I fry the snacks. I make (or pour)the tea. I wash the dishes. She entertains the guests.

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There's free time on weekdays, where the family sit and talk. I stay in my room, locked up partly avoiding extra tasks or not wanting to waste time that I may not have later.

My priorities start with my son, end up with school and finish with family. I can't seem to shift the pyramid upside down.

And still, I go to bed later than them.

(Stock Xchange photography)

School-aged children, curriculums.

What kids should know: rough curriculum for school-aged children.

Public School system
http://www.worldbook.com/wb/Students?curriculum

Top Michigan Elementary Schools:
http://www.schooldigger.com/go/MI/schoolrank.aspx?pagetype=top10

Full Islamic School Curriculum:
http://www.islamicedfoundation.com/islam/newpage3.htm

Sound Vision, sample for weekend school:
http://www.soundvision.com/Info/syllabus/

Islamic Weekend Learning curriculum (grades 7, 8, 10)
http://www.weekendlearning.com/curric.html

Blurbs.

(Google images)


New Baby

The 6 lb. 2 oz. newborn moves his head from side to side, peering at his new room, although he can barely see.

His mother lays next to him, stiff with pain. Her feet are swollen. She's in the hospital again.

The newborn tags along for his first ride since his trip home on Thursday.

Husband

The hours never end. From 8-5, from 6-10. Counting, waiting, sometimes ignoring, I spend my days.

I sit in the other room doing my assignment, baby on my lap sleeping or eating, while I try to multitask.

Today I avoided the dishes in the kitchen sink. I cut my finger and it stings. Forget formalities.

Naturalization

Naturally the naturalization process for U.S. citizenship is hard to pass, especially if English is not your language. Tomorrow my mother-in-law is going for her interview.

Hope it goes well, the officers aren't rude and she is able to recall some the answers.

Busy

Of course I knew people would be coming over after the baby came home. I knew they'd come when I least expected or wanted them to.

So how do you say, "Please don't come over." Or, "I have homework and I can't do it while you're here," either because it's rude or "I can't concentrate with a handful of people walking around my house."

Neither can I feed my baby, eat in front of other people without offering food, make tea, and conduct an interview at the same time.

I need to get things done.

Warmth; it all started two years ago.

We're nearing the two-year mark in our relationship.

Feb. 26 FR came to my house to find out who I was. I had the bio-data.

Three weeks from there, we took our vows and held off on the wedding for three months of preparation.

My husband is sitting at his large brown wooden desk, with his left hand on his chin as he examines the data on his black Acer desktop computer. His blue shirt with minimal pink-stripped shirt rests upon his 130 lb. figure.

He smiles.

I am sitting across him on my Dell Inspiron laptop, wearing a red traditional salwar kamiz (which looks like a long dress with matching pants) and a yellow scarf.

We are older, more mature and in two worlds.

As he punches in figures, I write words; an accountant and a journalist.

With kids, family, work and school there's little wiggle space for us. And yet we are here in the same office room where we work and share the warmth in our hearts.

Detroit City, here we come!

I love to travel.

Our 2-year anniversary is coming up. Usually we take some kind of trip to commerate and make up for the time we don't have.

Last year we went to Chicago for the weekend.

Instead of going away and wasting money, we thought why not spend our anniversary visiting downtown Detroit.

With all the renovations and rich culture, it would be great to look around where we live. Rediscover Detroit.

I have a hard time making plans.

I know what I don't want to do: anything related to sports, theatre, too mushy stuff or visiting science museums. It's not anniversary material.

I wouldn't mind eating out, walking and doing something that's historical but also fun.

As of now the plan is to use up the week going places. I'm thinking to invite the family along for one of our trips, to be nice.

We'll see how that goes.

Any suggestions?

Photo Credit: bixbox.slate.com

Subway sandwich dates

It's that delicious tingle in my mouth from Jalapeno peppers, the smell of pickle and the salty taste of Monterrey Cheddar bread that draws me to a tuna Subway sandwich.

Prepared fresh, to eat fresh, the sandwich is what I consider one of the only health-conscious food on college campuses.

The best part of the foot-long delight is sharing it with a significant other.

My sandwiches went through life chapters.

* I used to share them with my friend R, who went to school with me freshman year. We often met up for lunch and triumphed through lunch-picking, ingredient shopping and munching.

* Then I went through a sister-sister bond with the sandwich, sharing my sandwich with fewer spices.

* And now I share the sandwich with my husband, who doesn't like a lot of fast food. I successfully convinced him to give up oily McDonald fish-fillet's for a fresh tuna sandwich.

I can remember a few times we have shared our meal:

While I was pregnant I secretly craved a sandwich for the life of me, although my doctor preferred me to be on liquids at that time. We took the chances of me puking out my lunch. It was a good risk.

After giving birth and being left on scarce meals, I was hungry! My family made meals; mushy rice with vegetables, which I didn't particularly like. One day my sister-in-law asked if I wanted anything to eat, and I quickly said no, making a mental note to send my husband to a Subway.

And today, we shared a refrigerated Subway sandwich.

It reminds me of our journey through parenthood - starting with pregnancy, to the delivery room, to after birth. What a beautiful journey with the tuna Subway sandwich.

Anonymous

What is wrong with freaking people calling me anonymous?

Anonymous - no name and no identity.

Who are you? What do you want?

I've been getting these calls, last Friday and today. They called at 6 a.m. and 6 p.m. Today the person called about 15 minutes ago, twice.

Didn't hear any voices, but I did hear buttons being pressed as the person examined if I was still on the line - I put my phone on mute like them.

I wonder, are you reading this too? Gees.