Our First Ramadan.

Ramadan, in years past, was a bustling affair involving whipping up rich stews and dashing from iftar to iftar. I volunteered for fund raising events and balanced printing out flyers with attending Taraweeh. It was a busy and wonderful time with friends and a peace that seemed quite at home in the midst of a flurry of activity. I'd hoped that Ramadan would improve even more when I married. I was wrong.

I spent my first Ramadan as a married woman in a roach infested apartment, preparing rich meals that were sometimes ignored, sometimes criticized, by my ex and his sister. I would prepare suhur amidst complaints from my ex's sister, as she's not Muslim and never missed an opportunity to, well, sneeze in my ice cream. My first Eid as a married woman was spent alone due to a protection order. As they say, "cheer up, things could get worse". Well, I cheered up- and they did get worse.

My last Ramadan as a married woman was last year. I spent it trying to flee, fearing miscarriage due to the violence I experienced at my ex's hands, and wondering where my ex was and with whom. Eid was spent with him pondering marriage proposals from other women, before a loud argument in IHOP. It was the most blessed of months, but I came to dread this time, for my hopes were higher than ever for a happy family life, which meant that they were more cruelly dashed.

This year? Alas, no fasting- my milk supply is too fragile for that. And I've not had a chance to go to the mosque, either. I've not been in a mosque for Ramadan since before I married. But it's the best Ramadan in years. Hearty muffins prepared for the suhur of an acquaintance of mine, reading Qur'an with Zak in my lap, and holding Zak during prayers. It's an unconventional Ramadan, but it's got family, worship, and great food- just about everything needed to make Ramadan complete.

Fresh Man-baby scent.

Zak lacks that "baby" scent, as I don't put him in scented diapers, nor do I use commercially prepared baby products. I recently made a chamomile soap for him, and his all-purpose baby oil has chamomile and a bit of lavender, but otherwise, he smells like sour milk. And while I'm not fond of the artificially scented junk for babies, I kind of feel like the son of a woman who whips up handmade body products ought to have some interesting-smelling stuff on hand.

When Zak was born, I had to mentally file away my lovely patterns for girls, but also my plans for lavender-infused products for the most part. Lavender is not the best thing for little boys, so he gets very little of it in his baby oil, and none elsewhere. Chamomile is fine, but the essential oil is quite expensive, leaving me wondering what I could use on Zak that I can afford.

I'm considering rosemary and tangerine for Zak: tangerine is a less-common citrus allergen, and rosemary is antiseptic and good for enhancing memory. It's also not a "girly" scent. If you think finding a "manly" scent is tough- guys can be prickly about that- try a "manly baby" scent, or anything that's both masculine and appropriate for an infant.

This may be relevant beyond personal preference: I would like to include baby products in my line. Also, as I'm looking toward the end of Ramadan, body products and Zak are coming together in an interesting way.

This is Zak's first Ramadan and Eid. Last year this time, I was hoping that some miracle would occur to save my marriage and make Zak's first Ramadan one with him going to the mosque for prayers with Dad tucked in his Bjorn and family photos sent out with Eid cards. That miracle didn't happen, obviously. I'm in no way sure that Zak will get a gift from his dad, as there's nothing for my ex to get out of it personally. So, I decided to ensure that Zak will get at least one gift that didn't come from me, by participating in a gift exchange.

My lucky (or not, depending on how you feel about it) recipient will get some bath salts and hand cream. Any suggestions for the hand cream scent? The bath salts are already prepared, with bay, rosemary and eucalyptus. In return, I'm hoping that Zak will get a book or a toy that he will like; either way, he'll have a bit of the Eid I'd wanted for him- a few gifts and lots of love.

Less than a week to go- oh my!

Ramadan is scheduled to start this Saturday, insha'Allah. It feels odd, as I won't be fasting and I know this in advance. I tried to fast last year, but early pregnancy and fasting in the desert don't mix very well. As Zak nurses about every two hours, going for fourteen hours without food or water is a bit much. That leaves me wondering how to honor a time for fasting when I must eat several times a day.

Ramadan is also the month of the Qur'an- time to read and reflect. I hope to read Qur'an to Zak- he gets excited when I read to him. Also, for me, Ramadan is the month of tears and joy, of repentance gladly sought, of the fear of being alienated from God, and the hope of growing closer to the Divine. I'm not sure how to share that with Zak at this point, but perhaps one day I will.

Oddly, for a month of fasting, it's also about food. Rich stews, sugary desserts, and all sorts of delicacies will be prepared for the fasting. I'm going to skip those, for the most part, but I do plan to whip up Ramadan muffins for my sister's boss. They are an oatmeal-date-nut type of muffin, the kind that sticks to your ribs and is quite tasty. We'll see how well they go over- the guy I'm baking for isn't exactly a health nut.

Oh, and of course, Rumi on Ramadan:


Fasting

There's a hidden sweetness

in the stomach's emptiness.

We are all lutes, no more, no less. If the soundbox

is stuffed full of anything, no music.

If the brain and the belly are burning clean

with fasting, every moment a new song comes

out of the fire. The fog clears, and a new energy

makes you run up the steps in front of you.

Be emptier and cry like reed instruments cry.

Emptier, write secrets with the reed pen.

When you're full of food and drink, Satan sits

where your spirit should, an ugly metal statue

in place of the Kaaba. When you fast,

good habits gather like friends who want to help.

Fasting is Solomon's ring. Don't give it

to some illusion and lose your power.

But even if you've lost all will and control,

they come back when you fast, like soldiers appearing

out of the ground, pennants flying above them.


A table descends to your tents,

Jesus' table.

Expect to see it, when you fast, this table

spread with other food better

than the broth of cabbages.