Won’t you take me to the Queen of Hearts?

It has been faaaaar too long. I write this in the hope that someone, somewhere is still reading, but I know that ultimately, I blog for myself.

I want to write more. I do. But then I want to write about so much that I don’t know where to start and so I write nothing.

Little has changed outside of this blog. The poor are being asked to pay for the mistakes of the made men and material worn by Muslimah mesmerises and disgusts in equal measure.

So as much as it irritates the nostrils off me, the way someone Muslims get more worked up about a Muslimah’s right to wear niqab then anyhting else, to the point where it would seem that wearing textiles in a certain way is the best thing a Muslimah could ever do.

I have to state that the idea of a ‘burka’ ban is an Absolute Redwood sized amount of wrong. Banning clothing for someone’s own good!? Are we in school, or is it that Muslims are deemed to need schooling?

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Aside for that, Oreo, is now one year old, Alhamdulilah and she’s discovered the joy of cuddles. She wraps her arms around you and snuggles her little head into your neck and it is blissful.

People talk about motherhood as some big DNA altering change. I have to say, I’m still me, I am not different, but something inside me is different.

Like a second heart was left inside me when Oreo was born and this second heart beats and flutters for her alone.

Taken by Gare and Kitty. Used under a Creative Commons licence.

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