Tag: parents

Just writing

Be a Wolf, Not a Donkey

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That’s a father’s advice to his children that I came across as I was scrolling through Instagram.

I paused for a few seconds, staring at the post—perhaps you would do the same. The father says: Better to be a wolf that everyone hates than a donkey that everyone rides.

Honestly I believe this father has his own philosophy, but I couldn’t help but set aside his advice and think about the differences between the two animals. Please don’t think I’m  making any reference to the father for humans are not animals … perhaps … sometimes, metaphorically, some may be, if we live just to eat and drink.

So, wolves and donkeys belong to different categories, right?

Wolves are predators—they definitely eat donkeys. They’re aggressive hunters, social within their packs, and well adapted to their environment. Children hate wolves in fiction, and farmers chase them away to protect their livestock. And, there are some humans who hunt wolves professionally, seeking their soft, thick, and expensive fur.

Do you know that wolves within their own families do not hate each other? Actually, they care for, cooperate, and communicate well among themselves. Wolves rely on their prey. They hunt to survive—which is the ultimate aspiration of any animal life.

Donkeys are herbivorous animals. They’re domisticated farm animals. They’re humble, preseverant, cautious, and well adapted to their environment. In my culture, they are not described so kindly, though. If one is lazy, stubborn, or has an awful singing voice, they might be mocked as a donkey.

Donkeys love company and live in herds, which is why they look lonely and miserable when they haven’t others around. But they can also be aggressive—any prey can be when defending itself. They kick, lunge, and bite. Yet, humans don’t hate them, instead, they use them to their full capacity. And, don’t forget that donkeys too live to eat and survive.

Wolves can never belong to a herd of donkeys, and donkeys can never be part of a wolf pack. They both can live around humans, but humans always manage to have the upper hand with both.

So, wouldn’t it be better to live as a human—not a predator or prey, but as a sensible person with free will?

With hope and peace,

Nahla

holidays

The Easter Holiday

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It started off so well, with warm, sunny days, and beautiful clear nights. We went on a short break to Edinburgh. Everything was filled with exciting holiday vibes. My sons joined us as well, which made things more fun and enjoyable

We all love walking so we set our Google Maps and began exploring the beautiful, old city. It wasn’t our first visit to Edinburgh. Actually we had lived in Scotland for five years and we used to visit Edinburgh during the holidays. My sons couldn’t remember anything about it, and of course, neither could my daughter. They were like exploring the charming city for the very first time.

During the day, we wandered through the old town roads and climbed its unique, staircased alleys. I really liked these alleys for they looked like an old storybook. In the evening, we went out for dinner, but things were not as simple and smooth as they were during the day. Without a booking, you aren’t guaranteed a table. But, we managed to explore and find some family ‐ friendly spots. Then, back to the hotel, we stayed up late together, sharing funny stories and snacking until our eyelids grew heavy with sleep. My sons wished us a good night before heading off to their room.

So far, the holiday had been great.

On the second day, my middle son had a train booked for late afternoon as he couldn’t take extra days off work. We made a plan to be back to the hotel after lunchtime so he could have enough time to be get his train on time. This time, my husband didn’t join us, as some of his friends had learned that he was in Edinburgh and wanted to catch up with him.

Once again, the day had been great – busy and full of fun. It wasn’t until we were halfway back to the hotel that my middle son and I began to argue. What we were talking about was not that serious, but it was my reaction that made things worse.

I didn’t know whether it was the heat getting to me, or too much walking, or just one of the mothers’ flaws. My daughter grew emotional, feeling like she was losing all the fun of the day. My eldest son wanted to step in but I glanced at him to not interfere.

A few minutes away from the hotel, we came across a bench sheltered by a beautiful, flowery tree. Silent, the four of us sat there. ‘I’m still hungry. I’m going to get a sandwich,’ my eldest said before leaving us.

‘Now, what’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with what I was saying?’ My middle son began talking, explaing, and arguing.
Oh, my heart – I could feel how angry and disappointed he was. I listened patiently and waited until he was finished. Then, I explained my point calmly. He looked convinced, though he didn’t admit it. But, at least, in some way, we both understood that we meant well.

Back to the hotel, he grabbed his bag and came to my room. We chatted about other things until it was time to head to the train station. We hugged, and forgot all about it.

The next day, we headed to the train station. There was some delays, and the weather changed, becoming colder and windy. Once we got on the second train, my daughter received a message from her friend that upset her, but my eldest son took care of that issue. Exhaused, I closed my eyes just to relax, didn’t expect I would fell sleep. But, I did though I usually don’t fell asleep on train journeys, and my neck still hurting until today.

As the train was finally approaching our station, we got our bags and moved towards the door. There was a man waiting alongside us, coughing and sneezing, and looked awfully unwell. I couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t remain in his seat until the train came to a stop.

The following day, I woke up with slight cold symptoms. The day after, it became much worse with fever and a cough. Today it’s feeling okay.

That’s not all about this Easter holiday – perhaps I will share more soon.

With hope and peace,

Nahla


Just writing

Children’s Parliament

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That was an old children programme on an Arabic channel years ago. I don’t know why it crossed my mind as I was thinking about writing something. I guess that’s, maybe, because these days, some children are not only becoming extremely famous, but also extremely manipulated.

In the old Children’s Parliament programme, children were given the opportunity to discuss topics related to their lives, innocent childhood problems and needs; school issues, health issues, family issues, and hobbies. But, I think those days are gone forever.

Nowadays, it seems that many children have different interests and duties. Thanks to social media and other technologies, and the world’s madness, they not only have their own media accounts and online business straightaway after they entered this world, but they are also granted unreasonable privileges.

Nowadays, you can watch children in midnight festivals and ceremonies. They are accompanied by their powerful, influencial parents to share their special “success” in a completely non -child -friendly environment. They might come on stage, be interviewed, or play at the His Highness’ office. And, their parents smile and laugh to the camera to draw a perfect parental image, and role model to the whole world.

If you have a previous gift, your most valuable in the entire universe, would you expose it to everyone even if you’re surrounded by all possible sorts of protections? Would you make it part of a cheap drama? Would you use it as a blackout, a shield, or a mask to manipulate others, and protect yourself?

And that’s not enough, you hear those once -in -a lifetime parents say; “oh those poor children in that faraway neighbourhood, their parents don’t care about their safety and welfare. Those other children need to be displaced and relocated in a different, robotic environment, to be safe and perfect just like ours.” But, aren’t theirs nothing but victims of this self-centred life?

It’s said that some people, no matter how genius they could be, sometimes God lets stupidity be their sole guide. But, children can be clever enough to survive their parents unwise plans.

I wonder if one day Children will not only have a real Parliament, but will also be allowed to rule the world?

Isn’t everything possible these days? Who knows what the future holds?

Let’s pray things will change to the better!


With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Just writing

I Still Have An Accent

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‘I still have an accent,’ an acquentence said one day, as we were having tea and cake at a café.

I told her that I didn’t notice that at all, as her English was so good, but she didn’t seem convinced. ‘I can’t wait to get rid of it,’ she insisted, making it seem like a big problem. I couldn’t help but wonder why it was a big problem.

Do you think it’s a big problem to have an accent?

Honestly, I don’t mind. Why would you mind if your mother tongue is different from the language you’re using for communication in your new place? In fact,  I find it interesting, different, and even special. Isn’t it the same when a native English, or French, or any other speaker speaks Arabic with an accent of their own tongue?

Over the years I have found that it’s hard for English native speakers to pronounce the ‘H’ in my name because it’s followed by ‘L’. Therefore, they drop the H, and instead of Nahla, they pronounce it Nala. I understand the difficulty, and don’t mind. We are created with different tongues, aren’t we? Isn’t that encouraging to learn and understand others?

In another context, a few years ago, while we were on holiday in Tunisia, I found it so interesting how their Arabic has a French accent. I really liked how different and unique it sounded. This is the same reaction I have when I meet Arabic speaking people from the Gulf region. Sometimes, it takes me a moment or so to understand, but I like how it sounds. I wonder how common it is to find people speaking the same language with different accents. Isn’t that what they call the tapestry of linguistic diversity?

The only exemption from this phenomenon is children. They are so quick, so ready to become bilingual with a fluent accent. I’ve noticed that in my own children, as well as other bilingual children. Perhaps, that’s because children don’t force it or overthink it. It just slips off their tongues so naturally and easily.

I still have an accent, and I like it.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Just writing

Endearment

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Is there anyone who wouldn’t like to hear or receive some endearment? Genuine ones. Pure, simple ones. Endearments that are not related to flattery or hidden self-interest.

Although people are different,  I believe the possibility that one’s heart will not soften at receiving an endearing word or gesture is small. Even those with rock – solid hearts, or worse, dead hearts, should have a spot of tenderness hidden deep whithin them that would respond to a genuine endearment. Why, even animals and plants can be affected by endearing behaviour.

Now, can you think of the opposite? Instead of being the receiver, being the transmitter. In other words, can everyone instead of receiving endearment, be able to give any? I don’t think this is common because not everyone has this talent.

Imagine two people watching a singing robin at their windowstill.
‘Hello there, sweet, cute, little friend,” one says feeling so happy at the sight of the bird.
‘He’s just a bird,’ the second says, not in bad way, but he simply can’t add any more, believing that a robin is one of so many birds.

Can there be special, irreplaceable endearments? Of course there can, though nowadays, I doubt if people really care about that. A year or two ago, I noticed what I believe is an odd phenomenon. Either on social media or at social gatherings, I heard children calling their parents by their given names. In the beginning, I thought they were just joking or it was a game. Mine make the same joke at home, somtimes. But what I saw, was not for joking, playing, or disrespect. It was like a new fashion taught by parents, like a new, modern parenting style. Honestly, I find it odd, and disliked it. What could be a more special endearment than hearing “mama” and “papa”, “mum” and “dad” from your children? Who else would call you “mum” and “dad” from their own hearts?

Endearment isn’t only about sweet words.Nicknames and your own name can be just as endearing when uttered by a special person, or even given genuinely by a stranger. It is something that can warm the heart and fill it with happiness.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

daily prompt

Fun time

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Do you play in your daily life? What says “playtime” to you?

Children are, or used to be, always the best at having and enjoying their playtime. But this doesn’t mean that grown-ups can’t have any.

But things change as we grow older. As a child we usualy play to have fun, to enjoy the company of our friends whether in the neighbourhood or at school, and time would stretch before us as if it would never end.

But then, we grow up, and time becomes more precious as it slips from our hands faster and faster. Still, we can grab some fun time, steal some special moments of playtime.

Years ago, we were living in Scotland, and I really loved it there so much. My boys were around ten years old. We were living in a two- bedroom flat with an open kitchen-lounge. Sometimes, no honestly most of the time, just before dinner as we waited for my husband to come home from work, my boys and I would start a funny game. You might wonder why and how I could join them?

My boys at that age were too distant from one another. They would rarely talk or play together unless other friends were around. But since friends aren’t always available, my husband and I became the magnet that would pull them both to each other. That’s the main reason I joined most of their playtime games. The second reason is that I really enjoyed it, the child inside me wanted to play as well. It didn’t  matter to me that I was a full – time postgraduate student with loads of studying to do. I also wanted to have fun and make my boys happy.

One of our best and funniest games was racing around the small wall that separated the dinning area and the kitchen. Sometimes the race would cover the whole flat. The three of us were so light and little that we didn’t consider being any annoyance to others, especially we rarely saw any neighbours in the two – floor building we lived in. But, actually, there was one or two.

When my husband came home, and as we were setting the dinner table, the doorbell rang. My husband opened it, and there was our elderly neighbour. All I could hear from his brief talk with his thick scottish accent, at the door was; ‘It seems like it was raining cats and dogs.”
“What have you been doing?” My husband asked after finishing with the man
The boys told him about the game.
“Where was your mother?”
“Joining us, baba.”

We sorted things out with our neighbour. The following day the boys and I picked a nice card. They explained that they were sorry and promised to be more careful and considerate while playing indoors. Since our neighbour had two, big jumpy dogs, we delivered the card through his door mailbox. It didn’t take long until he paid us a neighbourly visit and brought my boys a nice lego game.

Playtime is when you let the child inside you play, laugh, and enjoy the moment.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Books, Just writing

Playing cards

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Before the smart phone games, app games, and all the massive screen based entertainment, some parents used to play cards with their children during holidays and school breaks. I did, still do, though rarely nowadays.

Those moments engraved wonderful memories in our minds. We laughed, shouted, and jumped as we sat in a circle on the carpeted floor to play cards. We played for fun with one rule: the first loser is out, but had to keep sitting and watching until the last round. It was something like “The Weakest Link.”  What made those moments even more enjoyable was how my husband and I called the cards names in the Egyptian Arabic. Our children wouldn’t mind,  wouldn’t even try to use the english ones. They liked it this way.

I wonder, and you might also wonder, why I thought about all that today? That’s becuase of the book I have just finished reading: The Solitaire Mystery. Have ypu read it? I really recommend it. It’s a good book,. But to be honest, I was a bit confused with the English cards names version. I even don’t know what the Solitaire game is? We play basic cards games. Bit by bit, I came to understand things, and that’s when I started enjoying the book more.

Herewith the link for my book review. Have a look and let me know what do you think about the book?

https://nh825.wordpress.com/2024/12/28/the-solitaire-mystery/

With hope and peace,

Nahla

Just writing

Don’t let them age

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I remember my grandparents from my mother’s side as I hadn’t seen my father’s since they all died early before he married my mother.

Anyway, my grandparents were barely in their late sixties or early seventies when they died. As a child, I used to believe they were so ancient, so weird. Their house was so big and so old. Not becuase they didn’t have enough money –  they did, but because they didn’t like change. They liked their old furniture, the old walls, the old staircase, and even their old clothes.

From my mother’s tales, especially about her father, I believed he was a monster and a tyrant. By the way, he wasn’t religious, but I am not going to detail more because we shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, should we? However, he was, actually, so kind with me. Perhaps, because I used to avoid him all the time, or because I was the quietest of his grandchildren tribe. But, he really was kind, and when he laughed or smiled, I didn’t see him that old at all.

Some people say that the real youth is the youth of the heart and the soul. If you read Mr. MacBride’s story, you will know how important it is to not let either your heart or your soul age.

Have you read The Five Wishes Of Mr MacBride. It’s a wonderful book. Have a look at my review!

https://nh825.wordpress.com/2024/12/17/the-five-wishes-of-mr-murray-mcbride/


With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Just writing

Not soft-drinks

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Years ago, I started taking my daughter to a tennis club. Of course, there would be a fun day for parents and children during the Christmas holiday. So far, so normal.

One year, at this sepical occasion, as I was sitting with my daughter, waiting for my husband to join us, a couple joined my daughter and me at the table. After “would you mind” and brief greetings, my daughter and I turned to watch others playing on the courts. So far, so normal.

It wasn’t until I heard the pop of some cans when I turned to the couple at the same table. I didn’t look at them; I mainly focused my gaze on the drinks which, of course, weren’t  soft drinks. Why? How? I wondered, feeling so angry. But that wasn’t becuase I, as a Muslim, felt I was the odd one out. No. That was becuase it was mainly a children event. Is this how people raise their children? How can you encouge a child to play sports and be healthy while you drink in front of them? I was deep in thought and didn’t realise I was gazing at the drinks on the table for more than enough. It wasn’t until my daughter grabbed my hand that I blinked and turned to her. ‘Let’s go and play,’ I told her and went to one of courts.

When my husband joined us, we went back to the table, but the drinks were gone. I felt a flutter of happiness, and turned to my daughter with a broad smile, but my daughter looked startled, glancing at the couples joining our table. I turned to see what was wrong. There, the woman was glaring at me as if I had slapped her. Honestly, I wondered if there was something wrong with her, a mental health issue. I gave her a brief smile, but she kept the same angry face. My husband asked me what was wrong. I shook my head and told him I had not the foggiest idea. But then, I remembered that I saw one of the coaches by our table when we were playing which means he was the one taking their drinks away, not me, but perhaps becuase of me?

After that event, my daughter continued attending her sessions, but we decided there would be no need to participate in any of their holiday events.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla

Just writing

Generation gap

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When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?

Have you ever thought that, from years ago, a five year old child is totally different from their peers today.

Years ago, when parents or  grandparents asked the younger ones what they wanted to be when you grow up? They answered; a doctor, a teacher, an engineer, a pilot, a mechanic, …. . Their  dream was to go to university, to work hard and earn their living from a prestigious job. Sometimes their dream came true, and sometimes not.

Nowadays, a five years old child, in most cases, doesn’t have a specific dream. They don’t even have the ability to talk and think about that at these early years of their age. Although, they are far smarter in technology than their peers years ago.

The generation gap is massive but perhaps that depends on how we raise up our children and what changes are taking place in the world around us. Unfortunately, the modern phenomenon of easy money is erasing the what do you want to be when you grow up question from the dreams of this generation’s young children  

By the way, I remembe I always wanted to be a teacher though that changed later on in my life.

With all the best wishes,

Nahla