The last time I had this feeling of dread, Dhuha took her faeces and spread them on her bedroom wall. After I cleaned her and her bedroom, I left her to play. Then she did it again, but this time in her sister’s room. It took ages to get it off the walls because of the textured wallpaper. My arm pained for two days. I hate textured wallpaper.

Last night, Dhuha snuck upstairs, while I was seeing to her brother. When I realised it had gone quiet, I rushed upstairs and found her and her wall covered with her faeces once again. The putrid but familiar smell was everywhere.

I put her in the bath, while I cleaned the walls. She loves the bath, so I allowed her to play. I went downstairs and started reading. About 10 to 15 minutes later, I heard a drip drip coming from the ceiling. I rushed upstairs and found Dhuha dumping large amounts of water onto the floor.

I stopped her and drained the water. Went downstairs and put a bowl underneath the drip. Went backup stairs and got Dhuha dressed. Came back down stairs to prevent the boy from playing with the bowl of water. Noticed that the ceiling was bowing where the drip was. I touched it gently and was shocked at how soft it was.

Dhuha came down and I prevented her from playing with the bowl of water. She went back up stairs. The ceiling bowed even more and finally came down. Abdurrahman was gasping at the dramatic scene and saying “Oh my God!”.

I cleaned the ceiling off the floor. It took a while. The hole is surprisingly large. When I went back upstairs to check on Dhuha and found that she had destroyed her nappy. I put her in the bathroom, while I cleaned up the new mess.

Finally, I gave her another bath. I didn’t let her play this time. Dried her off, dressed her. Went back downstairs and sat on the sofa and tried to contemplate what had happened over the last couple of hours.

Less than five minutes later there was a knock at the door, Zahira was home.

I asked my son, ‘Do you love daddy?’. He replied, ‘No, I don’t’. Then smiled and ran away.

Most of the time, I fail to see that any of her behaviour is abnormal, even if that behaviour is disruptive. However, there are times when I think, “Man, that is autistic!”.

Reminders of Autism

Dhuha comes down for breakfast. I give her a bowl of cereal. Suddenly, she jumps up, runs and puts the slightly out-of-place sugar container back to its perfect position. She then runs back to her seat and eats her food.

Abdurrahman is playing a game with one of the doors. He wants it closed. Dhuha dislikes the door being closed and forces it open. Abdurrahman is shouting at her to stop it and she is screaming at him. He hits her. She holds the door open.

As soon as Dhuha woke up, I changed her nappy. After a half an hour, Zahira changes her nappy again. Ten minutes later, it looks like she needs to be changed again. Zahira checks her and discovers that she doesn’t need changed, she’s stuffed four toy cars down her pants.

The joys of autism.

Today is the Day of Arafat, when the pilgrims will be standing on Mount Arafat seeking forgiveness from their Lord, with wet eyes.

Allah ta’ala swore by this day in Surah Al-Buruj [85:3],

وَشَاهِدٍۢ وَمَشْهُودٍۢ

(I took this photo from The Meaning of Islam, without permission.)

It is recommend for those of us, who could not be present, to fast today. We all know that right? We’ve heard the lectures and read the blog posts.

Yet when my wife asked me yesterday evening if I was going to fast, I replied that I didn’t know. Even as I went to sleep last night, I wasn’t sure. When the alarm went off in the morning, I had forgotten all about it.

I had been fighting a battle. On one side, there was me, weak and pathetic. On the other Shaytan, who had been successfully beating me with a stick of stupidity.

Within a minute of my wife going downstairs to prepare her suhoor, with the loud clangs and bangs that disturb the night’s silence on these types of occasions, I was determined to fast as well.

My wife only asked me one time about fasting. She didn’t even mention it to me when she woke up or when I did eventually come down stairs, after making sure the boy was still asleep. There was no need, her action of getting out of bed was far more inspiring than any lecture or article that I’ve read.

I’ve been married for eight years, today. Which is just enough time to get some understanding of marriage and family life. Even if that understanding is a bit blurred and confused.

Since I’ve now established my “authority” to write on the subject, I would like to share eight things I’ve learned in the past eight years. Enjoy.

Four Things I’ve Learned About Myself

1. I’m not patient, cool, clam or collected as I had, previously, been made to believe by my friends. It’s easy to appear patient when you have no responsibilities and no worries beyond deciding where to eat lunch. It is decidedly much more difficult with real responsibilities and real problems, proving conclusively that I’m not the least bit patient.

2. I can handle a lot more than I thought I could. When I was growing up, there were two things I thought I could never handle; autism and psoriasis. I have psoriasis, though it is under control. Dhuha has autism and I think that’s under control too.

3. I am a lot like my father. It pains me to say it but it’s true. I’m a disciplinarian. “Smaking” annoys me to no end. I MUST be heard. Sabah calls me “grumpy daddy”. Not to mention that I look a lot like him. Harshness was his defining character trait.

4. I’m nothing like my father. I kiss and play with my kids. They can share my food or drink. I can and do change nappies. I tell my family that I love them. We spend on the kids first and often I do without. I like to think, my kindness overshadows my harshness.

Two Things I’ve Learned About Marriage

5. It’s next to impossible to win an argument. Even when I’m sure I’m right, I seem to lose the argument. I talk too much. I talk too loudly. The longer the argument goes on, the more likely I’m not going to win. In fact, the only way to win an argument is by arguing alone.

6. DIY and housework (especially washing dishes) is the best way to smooth things over after you’ve lost an argument (see point 5). There is a trick to it, so use with caution. You must not wash the dishes or put up a shelf too frequently or it will become what’s expected. You must not do it too infrequently that she starts thinking you are a lazy bum. It is a fine balance, I admit. Done right, it will endear her to you.

Two Things I’ve Learned About Being a Father

7. Having a child with a disability isn’t bad. I remember saying to Zahira, when she was pregnant with Sabah, that I didn’t mind if we had a boy or a girl just so long as there was no disability. I remember worrying about Abdurrahman through his first year. But the one I’m closest to and the one that I’ve learned the most about being a father and a human is from Dhuha. Her disability does not stand in the way of her awesomeness.

8. Being part of my children’s lives has been the most satisfying aspect of worldly life. Before they were born, they did not exist even as an idea. After I saw them, heard them and held them, I can not imagine a happy world without them. They are the coolness of my eyes. They are the pleasantness of my present. They are the hope of my future.

Alhamdulillah. Thank you Zahira for eight great years. I love you.

As Salaam Alaykum wa Rahmatullahi wa Barakatuhu,

I’m still sitting on the floor, having just finished praying maghrib. Dhuha picks up Sabah’s pink musallah and carefully spreads it out in the direction of the qiblah. Once she’s satisfied that the musallah is perfectly straight and flat, she makes sujud. Then she sits up straight, a slight smile appears on her face.

The picture is of two musallahs that Dhuha spread out. No one was praying at the time and they are in the direction of the qiblah. (Don’t mind the stained carpet, I have long since given up on the hope of having stain-free carpets.)

All praise and thanks belongs to Allah alone.

Since Dhuha began sleeping on her own a few months ago, we have been able to confidently put her in bed, with a kiss and salaam and know that she would fall asleep with little trouble. Alhamdulillah, it was a major improvement for her and me, as it was a manifestation of far fewer bedtime troubles. If she was tired, she went to sleep, end of story.

Recently, a new behaviour has emerged, which I suspect is a result of the change in routine that starting school brings. By 20:30 – 21:00, Dhuha is visibly tired and ready to sleep or is falling asleep. Rather than stay in bed and sleep like before, she runs back downstairs and sits on the sofa. No matter how many times you take her to bed, tuck her in, kiss her and say salaam, she will run back down. It has gotten to the point where I have to remain in her room until she falls asleep or she just won’t stay in bed. Added to that is her sudden refusal to sleep with the lights off. Just last week, we had to make the room quite dark for her before she would sleep.

This morning I was woken by Dhuha’s crying. Finding her room empty, I went downstairs and found her sitting and crying on the sofa, with the lights on. I picked her up, took her to her room and lied in bed with her. After a few minutes, it was obvious that she was up for the morning. So, when I heard the alarm for fajr I got up with her. Once she was out of bed, her mood and behaviour improved immediately and she didn’t cry or fuss the rest of the morning and that’s with her brother troubling her.

Yesterday, I was thinking about what I was calling “the behaviour of the day” (not a lot like “soup of the day”), those obsessive behaviours Dhuha exhibits for relatively brief moments.

The following is a list of some of those behaviours of the day that I can recall from over the years. These are all things she did compulsively that has since stopped. Perhaps there are other things, that could be added to this list but have escaped my memory. Alhamdulillah, realising that many of her behaviours are temporary, no matter how difficult, helps me have sabr.

1. Constantly wanting to be held and carried around. Never venturing far from mummy or daddy.
2. Stacking cans/tins of food.
3. Trying to run out of the house.
4. biting, pinching, spitting.
5. Playing in the toilet.
6. Shredding her nappy/diaper.
7. Using the bath as a toilet.
8. Letting the water out of the bath.
9. Screaming for hours at night.
10. Spilling her drink.
11. Wanting to watch television for hours.
12. Kicking, pushing and hitting her brother.
13. Eating polo mints.

All praise and thanks belong to Allah alone.