Eid Mubarak

Eid Mubarak! (Blessed Eid)... We had a great family celebration this past weekend - and the kids have officially declared, "Eid is the best Mom!"







Other than the unraveling of gifts we were blessed to give our children, our holy month, Ramadan, allowed us to devote some extra time to the learning, understanding and celebration of our personal faiths - of being thankful to God, reflecting on our individual selves, and spending time with our loved ones...





Teaching our children about our religion can be somewhat trivial for Aaron and I - as both of us respectfully practice different faiths. And at the same time, very natural to the two of us, as we both teach from our hearts -

And while we have Ramadan each year to help us reset - and then the wonderful festivities of Eid, there are also opportunities within each day to parent from this perspective as well. As the kids continue to grow, continue to question... our answers to sometimes the unexplainable are under scrutiny by the most curious minds. With the passing of my cousin this past summer, I shared my sadness with Ava. Truth be told, I felt she was too young to understand - but she amazed me in her sincerity and compassion (my, what our kids teach us!). And talking about these complex facts of life at such a young age, I have discovered, is a natural part of who we are as a family - questioning, answering, and figuring out what it means, together -

This past Ramadan was a good time for us to talk more about our faiths, and introduce more concepts... We spent one afternoon recreating a chapter from My First Quran using shapes I had cut out of construction paper the night before.



Together they pieced together night and day... mountains and trees... and then used stickers to place animals, fish in water and humans...










After wards, the kids wanted to paint pictures for God...



The entire activity was mesmerizing to watch - and how each interpreted the familiar - the sun, sky, clouds, rain, trees - all the things they have always been drawing - but today, under a different set of eyes... Ava asked, "Mom, what does God look like?" [smile] and I heard myself pause for a moment. What do I think God looks like?



And that is another blessing in itself - of how our own children bring us closer... While reflecting on this, Noah shouted, "Hurry. I have to finish. God will be here in 2 minutes!"

who spilled glitter all over my calendar?

I am suspicious of the days on my calendar. Quite honestly though, I don't really use a calendar. But when I do glance at one now and then, I gasp.

In an effort to start teaching the kids the days of the week (sparked by wanting to help Ava remember her friends' birthday party), we posted a calendar in the mud room above a red stool and Ava would mark the squares with her squiggly x's. The simple placement was perfect practice for Ava to learn the order of the weekdays - giving her a sense of responsibility (although some days, squares went by bare), to being able to recite Mon-Sun like a familiar song.

I'd like to say that this learning opportunity was the reason for my distraction about the days passing - but the truth is, my internal calendar is still displaying June. I'm at a profound loss as to how the month of August slipped past me. Or July for that matter. Oh July! Where did the entire summer go already?

So after our morning sloshing around between beds, pajamas and cereal bows, I went outside while the kids retreated to the family room for their daily injection of Nickelodean cartoons. I took a deep breath and thought for several moments about the ongoing to-do lists, the 4 books I've started reading, plans for this weekend, and oh - what to do with the kids today. As I was sketching the ideas out in my head, a funny thing happened. I felt a breeze. It wasn't just your typical breeze - that inconveniently blows your bangs over your eyes, but a deep rooted - change is coming - life is good - kind of a breeze. In a summer of 100+ days, this sensory hallelujah overload was so refreshing, I jumped to taste it.

I couldn't let Sept 1 drain out from under me like the summer months did. Today, we were going to celebrate. Beginning with an outdoor walk.

We collected a myriad of sticks, browned leathery-looking leaves, acorns, and some innocent by-standing flowers. Noah and I held hands down the hill... and up the hill. Ava asked about about the human race's supply of oxygen and if we would all "die" if our oxygen ran out (a real concern for her these days since she learned about trees!). These were unexpected, thought-provoking moments.... as well as many with pauses and stops to deliberate on whether we should turn back now or cut between the alley to get home faster.

The weather was warming up, Zoe our dog was panting, and Noah decided he couldn't "walk anymore." When our "It's Sept 1" celebration started to wear off, I took another bite, and decided that we'd make a game out of this. "I'm lost, do we turn right or left? What's the name of our street again? How many steps until the stop sign? Let's count, 1, 2, 3..."

Distracted by Zoe's sudden crouching on the grass, Noah yelled, "I made it. I'm home!" while running toward the swing. The poop bag went unused and Zoe ran inside the house (to poop I'm sure).

Time getting home didn't escape us like I had thought (and secretly hoped wouldn't like the summer months) - but rather was filled with more slow enjoyable moments - the conversations, scenery, sounds... added a dance to our step. Ava and Noah's actions and responses toward my faux sense of direction actually stretched our morning walk even further.

As I was pushing, spinning, tickling, kissing and laughing with the kids on the swing, it dawned on me that this extra stretch of ourselves is like good karma from my carpe diem moment... and karma being a result of projecting my own creative self.

As parents, we have such an opportunity to create these kinds of moments for our children - and honestly - selfishly for ourselves too. The summer months I was feeling guilty about for passing right by me, actually did contain several dozen gratifying days like today - they were just spread out over the weeks and planned more diligently - like our family day at the theatre, going to the ballpark with Aaron, or simply reading 200 pages without interruption and a latte in my hand...

There were spontaneous moments too - like the time we parked the car at our favorite restaurant and instead of going right in to ask for a booth, we crossed the lot in the opposite direction to check out the fire station next door. This turned into a 40 minute event - where the kids toured, and sat in the fire truck pressing every button they could reach and Aaron and I got to meet one of the neatest fireman's serving Highland Park. Or how after our weekly jaunt to Lakeshore for a free craft project, my sister and I treated the kids to snow cones - where the owner surprised the kids with pieces of pink bubble gum - an exuberant discovery to preschoolers more rewarding than gold is for pirates.

Un-impressionable "blank" days on our calendar is like purposeful whitespace in art work. We need it to fully appreciate the bigger picture, to weave together the pieces that make up those events that do shine heavier in our minds. From my viewpoint, it's like someone spilled glitter all over our family calendar - and there is quite simply - a bit of sparkly on every square.

a new frontier

Having grown up in an all-girl household myself - engines, fast cars, and fighter jets simply doesn't take my breath away... like glitter. Or rainbows. But when I became a mom to a boy - some of that "zoom, zoom" has transpired into my list of joys. We love to watch planes pass by and pretend they are dropping off a shipment of balloons to children in China {or something fancy like that}. And I can appreciate a good car when I see one {especially italian ones}.

So it was only a matter of time before we ventured out to explore the Frontiers of Flight Museum for a little bit of that zoom, zoom... and more.

While there is little to do and see here in this airplane hangar at Love Field airport {less than an hour}, there is still enough to be left to the imagination - for both boys and girls {including me}.

Before you go...

There is a children area to the right of the entrance that includes a bounce house, reading section, JayJay the Jet Plane programming, and air control tower. On the left hand-side, parents and children will appreciate old planes hanging from the ceiling, as well as historical facts and exhibits ranging from hot air balloons to space crafts.

Take some time before or after your visit to hang around outside and watch the flights take off from Love Field. Or soar over to the library and pick out these fun books about flight and space. The Little Airplane, What's Out There?, and Spaceboy

when time runs

the other night, i forced myself to sit next to aaron while he watched a baseball game on tv. a completely rare thing for me to do. but it was his birthday after all. the things we do for love.

before the game started, a flash of baseball stats appeared on the screen, and i commented on what was to me, an obvious typo - while gushing into a bite of my almond croissant...

"that can't be right. he couldn't have hit those runs. it's not even june 16, 2010 yet."

and aaron, in his "i'm afraid to have to tell you" tone of voice - broke the news to me. it's actually july 10.

so is it possible to have time lapses between the calendar - or simply just lapses? life seems to be a continuous ball of motion - running into each other - doesn't it? i like to think of this as a good thing. the wonderful days strung together into absolutely grand weeks. but on the same token, when there are low points - the feelings of sadness, stress, and all that "blahness" lingers well beyond human exhaustion - and that's not a good thing.

Blogging has fallen into this time lapse {thus the reason for the last 2 sudden posts and pics.} i didn't want to forget them. and i wanted so much to share them with you - the absolute loveliness of celebrating family - that has strung May and June so beautifully together. but aside from these writing spasms, many other stories - lovely and not so much so - will go untold.

I often hear people say in passing - "who has time to read blogs, let alone write about anything and everything?" but the truth is, it's so much more than that.

it's a process. just like the understanding of time passing. and what and where we are in it. sharing this process {if even a fraction of it} through writing - is what connects us - at different times and spaces in our lives, whether we are searching, or happen to click through to a site one too many times. whatever the course, it's always purposeful.

like this lovely piece i just read tonight - expressing so beautifully how i'm feeling at the moment... or this photo of ava dancing - genuinely portraying what the string of days have felt like recently.

so while i continue to figure out where this process will take me - or what i will write about next and when - i wanted to say thanks for hanging in there... i loved reading the recent flow of emails in my inbox. and that i'm as anxious to read and learn about the art of family today... or maybe tomorrow... too.

xo

making memories... with sand in my toes

Sometimes you just have to go for it. Abandon the fear, anxiety and "what if" scenarios that spiral into the abyss of our minds. As adults, our thoughts are capsuled by these very things - especially as parents. Worrying about anything and everything. But if we simply watch - our children are the very ones that teach us how to be fully free and present among ourselves...




Watching Ava run out into the water upon arrival of our annual trip to the beach - was a refreshing reminder that everyday should feel like that. Without her floaties... without us hovering over - we watched her run over the sugary white sands and welcome the cold water. We watched in envy of their fearless spirits and were deeply humbled with gratitude for the week ahead... to be together, rejuvenate and let go - at the edge of the earth...




For the past 2 years, Dad's travels back and forth to Afghanistan prevented him from sharing these summer jaunts to the white sands of Seacrest Beach with us. But this year - the timing worked out just right - and instead of walking the dusty streets of Kabul, he is walking and holding his grandchildren beneath a forgiving sunset...








So much of what I love about traveling with family is how magnified the routine of days become with loved ones around. Mornings are sublime - waking up to different cuddles and laughs...




One of the things I often dream about is raising my children near the beach. But seeing as how I'm not much of a swimmer, nor a fan of seafood or swim suits - makes this a much prettier idea in my head. Still - it's nice to live on the beach - if even for awhile - and take in this scenery every moment of the day. Ava and Noah sit on the back porch here - on our second day - and talk about how they will divvy up their animal crackers before they spend a morning at the beach...







By the time the sun peaked at high-noon, we were ready to enjoy the beach - from inside our cottage - where the views and comforts of home still took our breaths away -




This is probably one of my favorite photos - or moments rather - for anyone who knows my father will know that he has a serious distaste for photos. In fact, I believe he has an allergy with cameras. I don't blame him - I take a lot of photos. When I turned to snap one of him, he frowned. I put my camera down, sighing at the routine of him running away from my lens - but was surprised when he went behind the counter and grabbed his son-in-laws and said, "now I'm ready" with a big smile on his face (thank you Dad!).




Although most people don't like to cook while on vacation - it was something we all got to do together (like in my case, where I accompanied the chefs on the other side of the counter). The variety, freshness, and gathering around plates of home cooking was like our palettes were on vacation too...




That evening, as Mom and I watched the sun set, the wind picked up - and so did our spirits for some adventure to fly our kites!








By nightfall, Roshana and I joined Wagma and Dad laying on the hammock - watching the stars turn on their lights one by one. Mom joined us, and before we knew it, my entire family was swinging on this one hammock - laughing hysterically, and watching shooting stars. We listened to Dad tell stories of places so distant... of when he was governor and touring one of his provinces on horseback alongside a mountain and then separated from his guardsmen. Before losing hope, there was a sliver of flickering light at the bottom of the mountain - which turned out to be a small tribal village. Not identifying himself, he was nonetheless welcomed, and given hot tea... Or the time my father didn't stop at a border patrol and turned to look back and see an Afghan holding a machete behind his back... or about the time when he and Mom drove to the countryside and were robbed by gypsies...


The stories fluttered one right after the other - completely capturing our attention as we tried to imagine and piece together these stories with our eyes. This was the kind of experience where memories are made out of memories - where on this perfect evening - my family came together like never before. I was lost in my humility and love - for the family I was born into and for the family I have created - and the chance to blend these two are true blessings. This memory - and this one night - will live much longer than I will...




On our second day - unfortunately the AC gave up on us. After 3 technicians, we decided to part our ways. In less than 2 hours, a new beach vacation was underway... and Masaud booked us a five-star condo with gulf views 30-min east, in Destin. And as a bonus to this extra bit of luxury, the children's slumber parties officially kicked off...





Roshana flew back home to start her summer session in college, while the rest of us resumed full beach bumming mode...















Including participation in a hermit crab race... and treasure dig -







Using a bamboo place mat (I mean pirate's map) of course... arrgggh...





Spending time alone with Grandma is a treasured past-time for Ava. Holding hands - and bridging the past with the future - both generations walk fulfilled with so much more than just seashells today...





Although none of us is a real huge fan of excursions, we ventured out to Harborwalk Village and took a boat ride out on the gulf...









And sure enough - a dozen or so dolphins put on a good show. Afterwards, Ava safely steered the boat back into the harbor - whew....





After dinner one night, we went out for ice cream to Sandestin Village of Baytowne Wharf - a picturesque community with something for everyone. While I tried to entice Ava and Noah to ride the carousel, they both had their eyes up in the air. So, I bit my lip and asked if their was an age minimum. To all of our surprises - especially Ava and Noah - there wasn't. And so up they went.... And it was every bit worth the wait in line on this very hot and humid night...





On this particular sunny afternoon, we managed to steal some wonderful candids with the girls musing over the beauty all around...






On our last day - we attempted to take a family portrait on the beach. There were sheer moments of laughter - as well as pure torture - as the kids wriggled this way and that while the camera snapped away...















The end to such a beautiful week wasn't easy. From the moment we returned from Seacrest last year, we began dreaming up of plans to go back. The impact of the oil spill, the uncertainties of illnesses, the stretches of long work hours... they were all forgiving for this one amazing week - allowing us to let go - and just be...







Each day unfolded a different story - and each one of us gave a little - and took a little - one from the other. And we are all better because of it.