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Monthly Archives: February 2014

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Really Oughtta be a National Holiday…

Alhamdulillah, our office has finally been moved into the premises of the larger organisation that we are joining.  It’s a real office.  With real people.  And when you’re me, every day is Take Your Toddler to Work Day!

I think Musfira likes it so far.  We get up, have breakfast, get out of our pj’s, and pack our respective bags.  Mine has a laptop, a company stamp, a check book, and various reports.  Musfira’s has three diapers, powder, a box of cereal, and small LED flashlight from Daiso.  It is pink.

We wake up in the morning and leave the untidy house- the cereal bowls crusting over in the sink, the pile of folded laundry that’s been on the coffee table for three days, and we drive.  We listen to Qur’an or Nasheeds.  We point out birds. Sometimes, Musfira likes to point out trees.

Momma, twee! oh, twee! twee!  twee, twee, twee, twee…. ah twee!

We get to the new office and Musfira is immediately welcomed by any number of bouncy, energetic, ABA therapists with exactly the right sort of personality to be a toddler’s best friend.  She sees who’ll be working with her today while I’m working with admin.  She gets happy.

SHELL!  (Hanshell)

EYES! (Aiza)

JOY! (Joy)

She plays with puzzles, and climbs up and down the stairs, and when no one’s looking, she hides in a corner and poops in her diaper because she’s too afraid to use the toilet at the office.  So then I close my reports and wash her little bottom in the bathroom without a changing table, and she runs back outside to climb the stairs again and all is right with her little world. Sometimes, we have impromptu teleconferences.  I’ll be talking to one person on the phone.  And Musfira will either talk to me, or start talking to them too.  She comes with me on lunch meetings, and the day before yesterday, she demanded- and got- the Clinical Supervisor’s apple juice.

Today we’re going to be taking our lunch from home, because I cannot and will not eat out every day- it’s too expensive, too unhealthy, and too hectic trying to pack a two a half year old out to lunch and back again within any given timeframe.  She likes to chase birds, linger over her chicken strips, and ask loud questions about other lunch-hour patrons.

Musfira: “momma, wha happinid to a lady’s nose?”

“It’s pierced dear. Some cultures wear earrings in their noses. Isn’t it lovely?”

Musfira is unconvinced. She continues to stare fixedly at the nice Indian lady in the power suit.

It’s 8:30 right now, and my company toddler has overslept, which is why I’m blogging instead of driving to work.  But it’s time to wake her up now, change her into her best corporate diaper, and hand her to her adoring fans while I attempt to get some work done.  Alhamdulillah.  Off to work we go.

MAMA, I HEP YOOOO!

These days, there are four magic words from Musfira’s mouth that cause me to go into instant state of anxiousness.

“Mama, I hep yoo!”

Musfira had a dirty diaper.  We went into the bathroom to change her.  As I turned to move the garbage can closer to the toilet, I heard those magic words- mama, I hep yoo!  followed  by the crinkly zip of a diaper being unfastened.

Her diaper had been full of poop.  Had.  Now her pants were instead.

We were making eggs for breakfast, and a bowl of lemon-yellow omlette sat waiting to be poured into the pan.

mama, I hep yoo!

And that’s how Musfira had her first egg-wash for smooth and shiny hair.

Musfira wanted a cup of milk, and I asked her to bring me the bottle from the fridge.  Instead, she got both the milk and the cup as far as the hallway, where she – impressively- filled the cup, as well as emptied the bottle on the floor.

mama, I hep yoo!

She says it with such enthusiasm, such genuine love and a desire to please and help me that I feel guilty for dreading those words.  There are many times where she follows my instructions perfectly, but those other times- where she doesn’t listen for instructions, or makes up her own instructions- those are the times that set my teeth on edge, and that’s when I end up dramatically sighing and cleaning raw eggs or poop off of things.  And  people.

But she’s tiny.  Really.  She has these teeny-tiny feet, and these skinny little legs, and when she comes pattering up the hallway at full-speed, both arms in the air and a face full of gleeful enthusiasm, then I HEP YOOOO! is perhaps, the cutest, sweetest, most earnest little expression of love that this momma has ever seen.

InshaAllah, we’ll both get better at this. 🙂  And we’ll hep each other.

 

IHEPYOO

 

 

 

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