70 Excuses

My dear children,

There is no love like a mother’s.
Since you came into this world, you have taken little steps, nudging at this, nibbling at that, trying here, testing there. Step by step, you learnt about your world. By your smiles and laughs, I learnt that you must know that the world is a place filled with love and trust. By your cries and screams, I learnt that you realised that, in this world, there is also hurt and disappointment – by those we love, and don’t, and by those who love us, and don’t.
A mother’s love is natural, unconditional, never-ending, selfless, all the attributes that are difficult to find in any other relationship, and so, it is an easier relationship to maintain. Mother-child relationships come with its challenges. But the true test of life and love is withstanding the other relationships. And just there, in the flaming hotness of the hurt and disappointment, that is where remembering and using the golden rule saves the day. The golden rule is the 70 excuses. And, oh, boy, how difficult it is to make ONE excuse when the heat is so high! But, if you can quickly recover and muster up enough head space to make that tiny ONE excuse, you can still save the day.
Remember, my dear children, you are saving the day for you. For love of yourself. To be at peace with yourself and to please your Rabb. For, at the end of it all, all that’s left in the room is you and Allah (Most Compassionate, Most Merciful).
With all my love,

Empty lunch boxes

Today I lost it.

Stink bums, pee on the floor, tired eyes and tired bones
Empty lunch boxes waiting to be filled
“Mommy, I need…”
“Mommy, I want…”
“Mommy, I can’t…”
Temper tantrums flying about
Today, I had the biggest one
And the clock keeps ticking
When you want it to stop
And it seems stuck when you want it to go FAST
And today I lost it
I lost it on my husband
I lost it on my children
I lost it in my early morning prayer
And that’s really where it all began
I missed my early morning prayer
And then the rest of the day feels void and miserable
And then taking out the rubbish becomes overwhelming
And putting lunch in the lunch boxes becomes that one little request that rockets Mommy to Screamville
And messages get tangled and lost
As the lunch box lids close and the kids march off to school
With lunch boxes filled yet empty.