Abez sez Assalamualaikum!

Monthly Archives: May 2013

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A conversation with you, dear Internet

 

Me: Hey Internet, guess what!

You: What?

Me: I got my disabled parking spot approved the other day, hooray!

You: Congratulations…? Wait, why do you need a disabled parking spot?

Me: Oh. Well, I kinda omitted this from my blog for the past few years, but the muscles in my body are atrophying for reasons that doctors can’t pinpoint.

You: Errrr…

Me: It’s myopathy, unspecified.  The genetic tests are negative for any of the known myopathies, and the muscle biopsy confirms that the muscle is deteriorating.

You: Wait, is there anything they can do about it?

Me: Well, they gave me a parking space!

You: That’s… nice?

Me: I thought so too, Alhamdulillah. 🙂

You: Why didn’t you say anything about this earlier?

Me: Well, I don’t like being negative and it’s hard to be positive about having rare, incurable and chronic muscle disease.  But it could also be worse, so why complain about it? Alhamdulillah, I’ll be fine.

You: Why are you telling me now?

Me: Because I’ve only used my disabled parking three times, but each time I do I feel like the whole world is watching me and wondering why I’m behind the steering wheel instead of in a wheel chair.

You: Are you faking?

Me: Nope. My leg muscles are easily fatigued.  I do stairs slowly and only as a last resort.  I walk funny. I don’t lift things. Typing makes me tired. My phone is heavy.

You: To be fair, some of those Android phones are like trying to have a conversation on a reader’s digest.

Me: It’s an Iphone 5, the skinny one? I’m slowly developing T-rex arms. They’re functional, but largely ornamental. :p

You: I’m not sure what to say.

Me: Me neither, but I thought I’d say it, because denial ain’t just a river in Egypt  and I may or may not have been paddling its waters in the rubber ducky of self-delusion.

You: You think you don’t have myopathy?

Me: No, I think I don’t need help.  However, I am forced to reconsider my status as a superhuman when the grocery cart weighs a ton and my telekinesis abilities fail to guide it to the car accurately.  I have no choice but to ask for help now, and it’s very hard for me to accept that.

You: Everyone needs help sometimes.

Me: Meh.

You: Do you need help? Is there anything I can do?

Me: Well, you can make dua.  But that’s it, really.  I’m not throwing a pity party, and I’m not accepting condolences.

You: Can I come and visit you?

Me: Only if you promise not to sit in awkward silence, or sigh dramatically, or cast pained, regretful glances in my direction.

You: I can do that.

Me: Good! Then we can still be friends. 🙂  Now, back to your regularly scheduled blog.

By Abez, the end.

 

 

This made me feel better today

The Prophet ﷺ was asked, “O Messenger of Allāh, which of the people are the most sorely tested?” He said:

“The Prophets, then those similar, then those similar. A man will be tested in accordance with his level of faith. If his faith is strong, he will be tested more severely, and if his faith is weak, he will be tested in accordance with his faith. Calamity will keep befalling a person until he walks on the earth with no sin on him.”

 

(Tirmidhi)

Take THAT racial inferiority complex, HA!

A few days ago, Iman was sitting at the dining table next to me coloring when she put down her crayons and pouted.

“Momma, which crayon is my skin? It’s not this one,” she said, holding up the Caucasian “skin-tone” crayon.

“And it’s not this one,” she said, holding up the brown crayon. “Which crayon is my skin?”

I leaned over and started poking around in the plastic tupperware that holds Iman’s treasure trove of crayons.

“Hmm, I don’t see any crayons in here that are the same color as you dear. Sorry sweetheart, we don’t have any caramel colored crayons.”

“Caramel?” Iman said, still pouting.

“Caramel is a beautiful warm golden color. Caramel is a kind of candy.”

Iman’s eyes practically popped. “I’m the color of… candy?”

“Yes dear, but we don’t have any crayons that color. Sorry. Looks like we need to buy you more crayons.”

Later that day, HF came home and Iman ran excitedly to him. “Baba baba!” she said, jumping up and down, “Did you know, I’m caramel colored??”

“Are you?” HF said, looking to me suspiciously.

(HF, I’ve decided, is dulche de leche.)

“Yes!” Iman squealed, “It’s a kind of a candy!”

Icecream“Well then,” HF said, picking her up and hugging her, “I guess that makes you my Caramel Princess.”

That was last week, and since then, we’ve changed the yardstick of skintone from lightness to ice cream.  Chacha is milk chocolate. I’m butter pecan.  Musfira is toasted coconut.

Because all skin colors are good skin colors, the same way that all ice cream is good ice cream.

So, what flavor are you? :p

 

How to melt momma with happiness

Khalid: Momma, what does the word “hang out” mean?

Me: To hang out? That means to spend time together talking and enjoying someone’s company.

Khalid: Okay, right. Can we hang out?

Me: I’d love to. 🙂

Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah.

Hehe

Two cows are standing in a field.  One turns to the other and says, “Hey, aren’t you worried about that whole mad cow disease thing?”

“Why should I?” the other cow replies, “I’m a helicopter.”

 

The Gardener’s Submission

The Gardeners Submission

HAMMER TIME!

Sometimes I wonder how much longer that I -writer, doodler, talker, teacher, dreamer- will be able to continue working as a director.  Managing people, services, cashflow, and strategy- these all rub against my Muslim-hippie nature like a hair shirt.

But since I don’t have a choice, the only thing I can do is suck it up, dig my heels in, and take it like a brave round peg in an irritating square hole. Somebody get me that tiny hammer. POW! Back to my inbox.

 

And I quote

Khalid: Momma, when I die…?

Me: (putting my drink down slowly) Yes Khalid?

Khalid: And my body goes into the earth…?

Me: Yes?

Khalid: Will people remove my fossils and put them in a museum?

Me: No dear, they won’t.

Khalid: Why not?

Me: Because you’re not a dinosaur dear.

_____

Iman: (is looking through rows of flavored vitamins as we’re waiting in line at a pharmacy) Momma, why does this have a picture of icecream?

Me: Hmm? Because those vitamins supposedly taste like icecream.

Iman: Why?

Me: So that kids will like taking them.

Iman: This one has cherries.

Me: It’s probably cherry flavored.

Iman: This one has fairies on it. Is it fairy-flavored?

Me: I don’t think so, I’m not sure what fairies would taste like.

Iman: I know. Meat.

Me: Meat?

Iman: Yeah, because that’s what bodies are made out of. Meat.

Me: You’re a very sensible girl.

Iman: I know.