Is it just me, or do any of you also channel Harvey Keitel's character "Mr. White" from Reservoir Dogs singing "you're gonna be okayyyyy, you're gonna be okayyyyyy" to the bullet-wounded Mr. Orange when changing a squirmy, dissatisfied baby's diapers?

Zain is fast approaching his two week birthday. I'm still astounded by everything he does and am fascinated by the little changes. By mid-June, he'll be a month old which is just about time for him to go to his first concert, don't you think? Fort Reno, here we come!
Thanks for all the du'as and funny comments and HIGHlarious updates to the blog, y'all! As you might well imagine, my world has been rocked. The right honorable Sir Zain (a.k.a. "baby doll" [my dad], a.k.a. "the beast" [TP], a.k.a. "squeaky mcgee" [me]) is a joy and wonder to us all. Today, he turns a whole week old. During the course of his one week on this earth, he's been through quite a bit. Mr. Fashion Plate had to make his arrival a dramatic one where he came into this world with the cord wrapped not once, but TWICE, around his neck as though it was a stylish scarf. With only an hour left to spare to make his appearance on his due date, he made it safe and sound and was whisked away to be suctioned, swabbed, and swaddled. We spent two nights in the hospital, but thanks to Zain's perfect timing, since we didn't get our room until 1am, which technically was a new day, we were only charged for one day. Heh heh, suckers. TP was amazing throughout the delivery and I couldn't ask for a more loving and brave hubby. Once word was given that Zain was available for viewing and cooing, Cybermom and Dad and LB were there in an instant, doting on him, exclaiming over every little toe, and lost to him already.

Except for two rather rough nights where we were stupid and didn't understand what he was crying about [note to self, "wah! wah! wah!" means "change my diaper, you jerks!" and "ah ah AHHEEEEEE" means "feed me already, cruel things!"], Zain has been incredibly good. He was holding his head up by himself within the first few hours of life and soon will be brandishing a sword and buckling his swash all by himself. The master and commander of my life is demanding my attention now and so I must away.

"Squeak. Sniffle. Ahem. wah. wah. WAHHH!"


He's here! Alhumdulillah, he's healthy, happy, and here! He came on his due date after all - that's mah boy! *wipes tear from eyes* 'Twas the phrase "okay, let's try one last push otherwise we may have to have a c-section" that got him to come into the world at an hour before midnight. 8 lbs, 0.03 ozs, 21 inches, powerful lungs, kung-fu grip, and a heart-breaking gaze that melts my heart. Thanks for all du'as and well-wishes and keep 'em coming! More on me wee pirate later! Yeehawwwzzzzz. . . zzzzz . . . zzzzz.


Naughty, lazy baby! *looks at watch, taps toe impatiently, sighs heavily* No sign of the wee one yet. I think he is taking after his Aunty LB and wants to make a fashionably late arrival. Bah!


I. Love. This. Website. Pandora. You can customize a 'radio-station' by entering the types of music you like (by artist or by song) and the program will offer suggestions of other similar bands/styles and play them for you. For free. Yay! I heart free!


Whew! We have finally moved out of our ghetto fabulous (sans fabulous) house in CoHi and into our skinny (and when I say 'skinny,' I mean like 13 feet wide) abode in AdMo. The move went pretty well - the movers were quiet, quick, polite, and inexpensive. Plus, we got to hear TP speaking Spanish all day which is always fun. We now have an intricate maze of boxes and furniture to navigate through in order to get from one end of the house to the other. I wish there was some cheese at the end of the maze to reward the effort, but our fridge currently houses leftover ginger chicken, a bottle of water, and some labne. Gotta go grocery shopping, STAT!

Meanwhile, enjoy this advice from my cousin's husband's sister in response to my piratey email notifying me hearties of the move to a new port:

A few things to do with your sword, which spring immediately to mind:

1. Clean baby poop from under your fingernails

2. Chop veggies for the Lord and Master's dining pleasure (I mean the baby; TP's completely out of the picture as of now - poor soul - except as inspiration for sword use no. 4 below).

3. Hold poop-soiled diaper at the end of; prior to chucking in the bin; with a view to maximizing distance between nose (yours) and said diaper.

4. After a night of alternately breast feeding and changing diapers every 30 minutes, playfully brandish at TP (but with a thoughtful look in the eye) when he lovingly asks in the morning, "did you sleep well, hon?"

5. Give yourself quick haircuts with, since you won't have time for that kind of frivolous, carefree thing anymore - oh goddness me - no.

6. And hold on to it (the sword) because when your little baby boy turns 13, and wants to pierce his ear - and gosh, I hope you raise him right so that he will want to - think how handy it'll be then - no, silly, not to teach him a lesson and chop off his ear with, but to be totally supportive and pierce it for him.


My buddy Faisal was interviewed recently on NPR/BBC/PRI regarding the trials and tribulations of being a Muslim attorney working for THE MAN and tangling with politics, the media, and the freaks. Listen up, yo.

Muslim-American lawyer interview
A Muslim-American lawyer working at the Department of Homeland Security was investigated for alleged ties to a man charged with financing terrorist groups. The Muslim-American lawyer was cleared...but rumors continue to swirl on-line. The World's Athena Desai has the story.

(thx for the heads up, mothman).


I couldn't place why I loved these Dunkin' Donuts (or as TP calls them, Binkin' Bonkers) commercials so much until I found out that they are sung by They Might Be Giants. No wonder! I can't wait to introduce me wee one to them with this.