The blogs bark and the caravan moves on!

“The blogs bark and the caravan moves on.” said Shaykh Nuh in good humour, paraphrasing the old Arab proverb.

May Allah preserve him and all our shuyukh, continue to benefit the ummah through them, only bring forth goodness from them and those connected to them in the spiritual path, and may He forgive and guide the Muslims who wrong one another, especially in this blessed month.

Haiku

Autumn day’s bright sky -

Wintry heart’s new love alive,

Four seasons at once.

Boy or Girl?

Not long ago I went to visit my aunt who lives in one of the old industrial towns up North that are densely populated with Muslims, mainly of the Pakistani/Kashmiri variety. Whilst there I got into a conversation with my cousin’s wife about her daughters; she has two beautiful little girls and at the time her sister-in-law was also pregnant. Somehow we got onto the topic of the sex of babies, and my cousin’s wife told us of how some of the neighbours came to visit and proceeded to give their condolences and sympathies on the birth of my cousin’s second daughter!

I was horrified at hearing this and told my cousin’s wife so, and she told me she was fuming with anger herself and would have thrown these women out of the house, but out of respect for my aunt, it being her home and they being her guests, she bit her tongue and endured it. I’m sure my aunt would not have minded having such small-minded guests unceremoniously kicked out of her house, since she adores her grandchildren and anyone would find such attitudes insulting and completely out of order.

I’m baffled.

Why do these attitudes still exist, in the UK and in this day and age? And why is it usually women themselves who perpetuate such a nasty mentality? How can some treat the birth of a daughter as though it were a death in the family or some kind of curse.

Whilst in older women it can be more blunt, perhaps what’s more disturbing is encountering the subtle remnants of this medieval thinking in young women in their early twenties who are expecting or trying for children.

A girl is still a second class baby, and boys are still best. The raucous joy I hear when a boy is born still overshadows the muted happiness of the birth of healthy little girl. And I always make a point of vocalising my own preference of girls to break the status quo, “Why do people pine for boys rather than girls?” I will ask, “Girls are so much more fun, with their pretty hair and dresses, their cute feminine beauty and adorable delicate mannerisms.”

The response I get tends to be, “Yes, but…”

Yes but if you have a boy early on at least you don’t have to worry anymore about not having one and only having girls, (and what is wrong with only having girls I wonder apart from perhaps wanting to experience having one of each, but clearly this isn’t a concern of the sexist yes-but-ers because they aren’t so worried about only having boys).

Yes but if you have a boy then you have someone to continue your name, (but Muslim women keep their fathers names, and even if the name is not continued, the heritage isn’t lost, a daughter’s children are as much your blood and descendents as a son’s).

Yes but if you have a boy then you don’t have to worry about what people will say (but you ARE those “people” by saying that!)

We were recently delighted by the birth of a baby in our extended family.

The two birthing partners who are relatives told of how when the baby crowned they saw thick black hair and one of them said “Oh… it must be a girl with hair so thick,” and then the rest of the body was pulled out and the other screamed out ecstatically, “YESSSSSS, it’s a boy!!!”

What I heard when I was told that story was “boys are better”, and so naturally they were happier at the baby having been a boy.

It makes me feel slightly disgusted and indignant and I know for a fact that I’d be happy if I never had a son and only had daughters, I wouldn’t feel disappointed, I’d feel delighted at having been blessed with any children at all, and certainly wouldn’t see daughters as lesser than sons, so that mentality is really something I can’t relate to or understand in other people.

I was talking to my mum about this whole topic and said perhaps in the old days in Muslim countries it did mean something in that parents worried about the large dowries they would face in future or not having a son to do the heavy manual labour they needed doing (even so, women still work the fields and so on in these countries) and so perhaps for the poverty stricken these were real fears, but that doesn’t apply today in the UK.

My mum tried to rationalise it to me, she said that having a daughter was a different experience to having a son in many ways, that parents worry about the welfare of their daughters so much more, about their vulnerability, how they will get them married, about what kind of in-law’s they will have, what kind of husband they will end up with, if they will be treated right and so on. She said that the emotional impact of having a daughter marry and leave the family home was so much stronger than having a son marry, and that ultimately having a son to some people means avoiding all of these issues.

But to me it seems these kind of emotionally draining concerns are part and parcel of parenthood and ultimately it’s the culmination of bringing up a child and seeing them go off into the world and face their own challenges as an adult with the skills your parenting provided that makes being a parent worthwhile.

All those worries are what being a parent is.

So as far as I can see, there is no rationalising or justifying it, it’s just good old fashioned prejudice against the female sex.

Some days

There are some days in my life that stand out so clearly in my mind. Days that I can close my eyes and step back into, feel the same emotions, whether anxieties or exhilarations. In my mind I can almost relive exactly the things I did on those days.

The kind of days I’m talking about are those that made me feel truly alive, because I was doing something significant, something that took effort and took a full and open heart. The kind of days I remember in that way are varied, I could have been preparing for exams with friends, climbing a mountain, going somewhere new and doing something new, studying with a beloved teacher, praying on my own, getting ready for and enjoying a party with friends, soaking up a special occasion with family or even doing something as mundane as cleaning. I  vividly remember being up until after 1am cleaning a kitchen from top to bottom after having moved in to a new flat. That probably seems a bit of strange example, but the better ones are a bit too close to my heart to cite, although being breathless on a windy mountain or spending long days seeing amazing sights in ancient cities or having aching legs from hours of sitting in front of a teacher all stand out too.

But there was something about those days that marks them out like that, and I think it has to do with where my heart was, and how much of myself I put into whatever I was doing that day. I did things on those days that demands to be remembered because of what I put into it or what it took out of me.

Too many days go by in a blur, where it feels I’ve done nothing, achieved nothing, gained nothing. Days where the minutes and hours just melt into one wasted forgettable nothing that stretches out into many days, weeks, months and even years of life.

It’s terrifying. Where are all the memories of those days? There aren’t any because there isn’t anything to remember. So I’m left mourning over precious time in this world that I wasted, by not having the right intention (to make the most of it) no matter what actions or activities that entailed.

There’s no excuse for being idle when dhikr only takes a tongue, or heart; preferably both. And what could be a better way to prevent time being lost?

Yet I’ve been so idle, for such long periods of time that they are big gaping holes in my life that I know must fill the wrong scrolls in my annals.

I ardently wish that each day from today could be one of those vivid, alive, memorable days where my heart is present and body is active, rather than the dull empty days that only increase my soul in deadness whilst I’m on the way to death. It’s not about what exactly you’re doing or where precisely you are, but being busy in good things and having a heart that is in everything you do, I think, helps keep one’s soul awake and nourished.

On today’s agenda: cleaning, gardening, visiting family and enjoying the beauty of Allah’s creation, especially the sunshine and blue skies!

Alhamdulillah.

Marriage season

Courses on marriage seem to be all the rage lately and I’m wondering, “Why now?”.

It used to be that the only “Islamic” events on marriage were the Muslim speed-dating type things or talks by preachers on University Campuses, loaded with humour and all carrying the underlying message of: “Get married young. Get married now. Your parents are jahil for not letting you get married, especially if it’s because you want to marry someone from a different background. It’s inconceivable that you should resist your hormonal urges so just get married (so you can have halal sex) and save half your deen from ruin.” A message which would be lapped up by the “youth” and as with many University ISoC talks go a long way in reinforcing self-righteous religious snobbery towards “backward elders”.

But the courses I’ve seen advertised thesedays seem to carry a higher level of sophistication thankfully, and delve a little deeper into not just law, but also the social, familial, religious, long-term implications of marriage. It’s not just about winning over a young audience and playing up to desires, infatuations and fantasies.. now an injection of wisdom and reality is becoming available to marriage-obsessed Muslims. Divorce is being discussed, as is the importance of maintaining good relationships with the family of your spouse, parenting, responsibilities, patience in the face of problems. It seems that the discourse is becoming a little more grown up, and that scholars are filling the role of parents in much of the instruction. What is it about Muslims that makes them ignore good advice from parents, but lap up the same stuff from their scholars? Hmm.

Still, it’s a good thing that the heavy stuff is being taught instead of just the crowd-pleasing pep talks and I think it’s a testament to the fact that a lot of the young teachers in the West are on the ball and able to connect with what their communities need guidance on, since it seems like everyone you speak to has family or marriage problems sadly.

I was going to end the post with the best marriage advice I’d ever heard, but I can’t actually decide on what that would be, so maybe readers can offer theirs.

Up for debate: Team Qatar

The BBC series Storyville presents documentaries from across the world and the films are often fascinating. I thought this film about the Qatari National High School Debate team and their trip to the world championships was quite charming. It was interesting to see the children, their different backgrounds and perspectives which come out during the documentary. Their interaction with each other and discussions outside of the debates are perhaps more engaging than the official debates they compete in. Qataris seem to be a really multi-cultural bunch, not to mention extremely affluent and perhaps it’s this background that makes the children the characters they are, and what a contrast when compared to the British children who participated in “The Speaker“!

Here’s the film on iPlayer.

Mumbling from my mobile

Like a street lamp illuminating a tree,
Your loving eye watches over me,
I’ve been feeling down all of today,
I wonder if it’s spiritual decay,
I am so far from You,
Though You have close proximity,
You penetrate each breath I take,
I’m blind although I see,
I’m falling yet with each day that passes by,
I feel the potential my soul had slowly die,
I know I need you but how to reach you I don’t know,
A hand to hold I seek but his path seems too steep,
My resolve is weak and my misery is deep,
They say “have high hopes” but my sins they do not know,
I wear a pious mask but my burdens do not show,
They’re weighing on my heart and soul,
Feeling cold with laziness and insecurity taking control,
I feel the deepest hole,
I feel the world and years taking their toll,
Losing life with each breath coming nearer to my death,
And I’m failing every test,
Feel like I’m failing every test,
But I hope in You,
In Your loving care and forgiveness,
I hope in mercy for the needy,
And gentleness with the wretch.

A path seeking sacred knowledge

The Hadith of Abū Dardā‘

A man came to Abū Dardā‘ while he was in Damascus. Abū Dardā‘ asked him, “What has brought you here, my brother?” He replied, “A hadith which you relate from the Prophet صَلَّى اللَّهُ عَلَيْهِ وَ سَلَّمَ.” Abū Dardā‘ asked, “Have you come for some worldly need?” He replied, “No.” “Have you come for business?” He replied, “No.” “You have come only to seek this hadith?” He said, “Yes.” Abū Dardā‘ then said, “I heard the Messenger of Allah صَلَّى اللَّهُ عَلَيْهِ وَ سَلَّمَ say: ‘Whoever travels a path seeking sacred knowledge, Allah will place him on a path to Paradise. The angels lower their wings for the student of sacred knowledge, pleased with what he is doing. The creatures in the heavens and earth seek forgiveness for the student of sacred knowledge, even the fish in the water. The superiority of the religious scholar over the devout worshipper is like the superiority of the full moon over the other heavenly bodies. The religious scholars are the heirs of the prophets. The prophets leave no money as a bequest, rather they leave knowledge. Whoever seizes it has taken a bountiful share.’”

- Imam Ahmad, Abū Dāwūd, Tirmidhī and Ibn Majāh relate this in their compilations.

The Heirs of the Prophets, ibn Rajab al-Hanbali, translated by Zaid Shakir

Face veil problems

I came across this article some days ago; it is about a mother who was refused entry to her child’s school during parent’s evening because her niqab was considered a security threat. She was understandably upset and indignant about the school excluding her when she was happy to lift her veil and be identified by female members of staff, and she refused to leave the premises so the school took the step of calling the police!

These kind of stories make me feel uncomfortable, because it’s complex and I’m in two minds about the whole thing.

Firstly I feel angry that she was treated that way. There are some children whose parent’s do not care enough to attend parent’s evenings and don’t have a clue nor an interest in their child’s progress, for any concerned parent who has come to the school wanting to speak to teachers about their child’s education to be treated like that is terrible. Schools are meant to have a welcoming, inclusive atmosphere that models good behaviour to children, what does the rude and humiliating treatment this mother suffered teach children about how to treat others? There was no need to escalate the situation to the point of reducing her to tears and calling the police, that is absurd and shows a really bad attitude on the part of the school. They clearly knew exactly who she was, whose mother she was and why she was there, they could have dealt with her in a friendly and positive manner that de-escalated the situation. But the fact that things transpired as they did really makes them seem unreasonable and just plain horrible. I can imagine how angry and upset the mother must have felt and how dehumanising and alienating the experience must be. It’s not right for a parent who simply wants to attend parent’s evening to be treated as some kind of criminal trespasser or troublemaker simply because she covers her face in front of men due to her religious beliefs.

However, the school’s argument is that they have a policy that visitors must show their faces at all times for security purposes so that they can be identified. They say that they were willing to compromise such that the mother can speak to teachers in a designated separate room from other parents after having been properly identified, but that they cannot allow her in the main hall and so on because if there were more women in veils wandering freely about the school in that way it would be impossible for them to identify people and thus is a risk to the children’s security.

As much as it makes me want to roll my eyes and sigh, I have to concede that they have a point. But again this is something I can see being argued both ways, it’s not black and white, there’s not clearly one party in the right or wrong.

I personally know of cases where people have used the niqab to hide their identity whilst committing a crime. Only a month or so ago a woman I know, who happens to wear hijab herself, went to the bank to withdraw some money and a few places ahead of her in the queue was a woman (?) wearing niqab who demanded all the money from the cashier’s desk. Thousands of pounds were taken but thankfully no one was hurt. I don’t think the robber was caught though and since (s)he could not be identified there’s little chance (s)he will be. I also know of a Muslim owned jeweller in our city that been targeted by robbers wearing face veils. They got into the shop posing as harmless niqab-clad women, then pulled out weapons, and cleared the shop out of tens of thousands of pounds worth of gold before making a getaway.

So to me this isn’t just some myth perpetuated as an excuse by niqab-hating Islamophobes. I know of real instances of criminals hiding their identities whilst committing a crime by wearing a veil.

Would I blame those Muslim jewellers for not allowing women wearing niqab in their shop again? No, I wouldn’t. Not at all. How can you? At the end of the day, it’s their livelihood and safety being risked if they put themselves in a position of vulnerability by just trusting complete strangers to be who they are trying to pass off as. They have to be alert, cautious and protect themselves.

Having said that I have friends who wear the niqab, one of my teachers wears the niqab, many of the scholars I admire and learn from recommend the niqab. How would I feel about my teacher or friend being barred from a shop because her face was covered, or indeed forbidden entry to her child’s school because of it? I’d hate for them to be put in that position and made to feel rejected, excluded and alienated simply for living in a way that represents their personal beliefs about their religion and modesty.

I feel a bit torn about it.

By covering their faces, aren’t they choosing to be alienated in a sense? Well, in a way that is on their own terms, meaning that they don’t want a certain level of interaction with, in particular men, but in reality everyone in the public domain. Their problem is that others are then redefining what level of interaction they want with them if they cannot see their faces.

Can a woman who veils her face really complain then if she is telling the outside world, “You cannot see my face,” and they are replying, “Well then you cannot enter my shop/bank!”? I’m not so sure.

It’s one of those situations where you want to sort of say, “Can’t we all work this out nicely?”

In the case of the school, if their security is such an issue of importance for them, then surely all visitors must have to enter through the main reception, and if  niqab-clad women are identified as parents and legitimate visitors and issued visitors badges when they enter the school, then surely having many veiled women wandering about the school hall would not be a security issue since all visitors would be properly accounted for. But maybe the headteacher is an Islamophobe, or maybe they don’t feel they can deal with the hassle of keeping track of all veiled visitors, or maybe they just don’t want exceptions to their rules; I don’t know.

Similarly, with shops and other places where the owners of the building feel they need to identify people for their security, I think it’s only reasonable that women who wear face veils lift them momentarily, allowing themselves to be identified and seen by security cameras and then let their veils back down again later. Classical interpretations of Islamic law are not so rigid and inflexible as to make things difficult for people, but some Muslims can be rigid and inflexible. To this day I don’t understand why the despairingly inarticulate Aishah Azmi would go to an interview without niqab at a Church of England school, and then turn up to work wearing it for a job as an ESL (English as a second language) teacher assistant and go on to cause a media circus around the issue of her subsequent suspension. I do feel that seeing her face would have been important if she was an ESL assistant, especially working with younger children and especially if she was that inarticulate.

Even many Muslims would wonder, why work in a classroom setting where you’d have to be in close proximity with men if you are so concerned about them seeing your face, why not work in Muslim girls school, or find some other job where working with men would not be a contentious issue.

Yet, at the time I had a friend who wore niqab and worked as a teacher’s assistant and she worked in a female teacher’s classroom so the children saw her face, and the male teachers at her school had no problem with her. The pupils were so accustomed to her they would warn her to lower her veil if they saw a male teacher was about to come into the classroom! Hearing her experiences made me think that it was possible then to work in that environment and wear niqab, but I never did ask her what she would have done had the school required her to work in a classroom where a man was the teacher. Would covering in front of the children have been entirely fair? What if there was a hearing impaired child she had to work with who needed to see her lips? What if the children did find it problematic?

It gets complicated… and when it does get complicated I do begin to think just don’t put yourself in that kind of situation, and don’t escalate things to the point it effects the whole community at large.

But then I’m not pretending to have all the answers or that I’m single-mindedly convinced of any one-way argument; as I said it’s something that makes me feel in two minds.

However, I do think Muslims have to be reasonable and sensible about things, and tactful as well as considerate in dealing with other people.

And so do non-Muslims.

It’s a shame that when it comes to dealing with each other, sometimes both groups are none of the above.

Are you a sexist jerk?

Well you did ask…

After reading your post, I’d say no, you’re not necessarily sexist as such but you do make some generalisations about your own gender which I think are a bit unfair.

-

I thought I’d respond to brother Naeem’s post because I’d actually read that article when it was published, although I came across it in the Daily Mail and not The Times (ahem, that probably doesn’t reflect well on me ), and I was going to blog about it then but didn’t get around to it.

The writer, Ms. Lewis, is a playwright going into her late thirties and questioning the feminist principles which her mother championed and imbued her with. Now that her career leaves her feeling empty and unfulfilled, she tells us that women can’t “have it all” (meaning a career and a family life) and that we have an innate homemaking instinct which means our happiness lies with a baby on the hip and dough in the hand. She admits to having had an attitude of ruthlessly pursuing her career and deliberately sacrificing a family life in favour of living up to her feminist “ideals” and now she feels that was a mistake.

We’ll get back to her later but let’s see what brother Naeem had to say first…

Men like their women to stay at home.

There. I said it. Congratulations are in order.

I think it’s a valid opinion and I’m sure it’s true for many men but it’s still a generalization and its veracity in terms of describing the majority would depend on geographical location, age, educational level and social class of the men we consider. If we’re talking about Muslim men in the “West” and of a blogging generation, then I still think it depends on too many things for a sweeping generalization to be meaningful.

But brother Naeem doesn’t leave us much room to disagree:

Ladies, if you believe your DH when he tells you otherwise, then you’ll probably believe me when I tell you that the Tooth Fairy has a crush on Santa – well, maybe not a real crush, it’s more like puppy love.

Come on now, everyone generalizes but none of us can seriously claim to speak for half the world’s population simply because we share the same reproductive organs as them, and nor can we reject opinions or experience that are contrary to ours as something that would only be accepted by the kind of gullible women who are satisfied with a solemn “no” when they ask “Does my bum look big in this?”

The female readers who would have objected with protests of “Well actually my husband doesn’t feel that way; he is perfectly happy with me working and having a life outside the home, and we still have a good family life despite my career!” have just been dismissed in one broad sweep. Very clever brother Naeem, but it doesn’t wash because those men do exist and I spoke to one just yesterday.

Me: Do you think it’s true that all men want their women to stay at home rather than go out and work?

Specimen A: No.

Me: What about you?

Specimen A: I wish my wife would go out and get a job!

Me: Erm, …But isn’t it true then that men want to take pride in being the breadwinner and feel undermined by a woman earning, especially if it’s more than him? As a man don’t you feel your role is as the protector and maintainer and she should be at home?

Specimen A: Well it depends. I want my wife to work because I know she’ll get depressed being at home, so I think it’d be better for her to be kept busy and productive, we don’t have kids yet so that’s not an issue. So I guess it depends on the particulars of the situation. If she had a bad attitude about it, as in “I don’t need you, I have my own money, I can do what I like, I can look after myself” and then sort of held that against the husband, any guy would take issue with that.

Me: What about if you did have kids?

Specimen A: Kids need attention and looking after, I’d prefer her being at home after we had kids, maybe working part-time or in some other flexible way once they’re school age?

I’m certain Specimen A was being honest, and we also got into a conversation about buying a house and the complexities surrounding that, which I think relates to a point brother Naeem made about some women working to increase the combined income for the family. I guess this is where it gets tricky, because if the wife is working from a percieved “need” for the family, then maybe that impinges on the husband’s role as being the provider and maintainer. However, I don’t think this needs to be an issue.

I don’t know about brother Naeem but I come from the kind of social bracket where mother’s working is a norm, despite them coming from very traditional families and taking the culture of staying at home very seriously as 1st generation immigrants, many women still worked from home, or did even take that step of working outside the home. This generation of working class immigrant mothers became seamstresses, dinner ladies, factor workers and so on or assisted in family businesses or shops. It was simply a reality of life that although the husbands worked and paid bills and so on, the women needed to work also to alleviate the financial burdens on the usually large families.

The mothers could have chosen not to work, but then the stress of the financial difficulties would have been squarely on the husband alone and that would have taken its toll on the whole family and they would have all suffered. Does it make the husband less of a man? No, I don’t think it does, because how can it be his fault if the average wage of one man is not sufficient to cover the living costs of his family? If he is doing his best to fulfil his responsibilities, but the family could still do with the extra help from the woman’s income, if it is acceptable to her and doesn’t cause neglect of the children, then why not? A man shouldn’t be made to feel small about it.

Even with our generation of educated young professionals, if a man graduates and gets a job earning £20k and then gets married and moves out of his family home to start renting and his wife stays at home; he has no chance of purchasing his own home anytime soon. Most of his earnings will be going on rent, bills, council tax, food, car and so on. Even if he scraped to save up for a deposit over a good number of years, he’d be looking at a huge mortage since a modest home here costs around £100k (just under now because of the recession). Yes, he can maintain and provide, but if they are looking to buy a stable family home for their future and so they can be settled when they have children, having an extra income which can simply be saved toward a house fund would be valuable.

The only couples I know with their own homes were helped by their parents, either because they lived with them at first and saved up, or because their parents bought them a house, or they both work and have a hefty mortgage, and that is something many practising Muslims want to avoid. Even Islamic mortgages are painfully expensive and unjust, even moreso than conventional ones, which completely misses the point of why usury is forbidden. And I’m not talking about people who approach finances from the perspective of keeping up with the neighbours, but simply being able to buy a modest home.

My point being that even today educated young people with good jobs and decent pay may still be in a position where both husband and wife need to work, if they want to save up and buy a house without putting themselves under the huge strain of a big mortgage as is sadly the norm for most people but perhaps an issue for many practising Muslims. Why should male pride get in the way of couples working together as a team both contributing towards building a stable future for their family? I certainly don’t think men who are happy to let their wives work should be made to feel like less of a macho-provider-maintainer just because their wife wants to help out.

Even where there isn’t a financial reason, for many women – Muslim women anyway – work isn’t all about money and status, it’s often about helping people in some way or pursuing a particular passion for something. And personally I think a husband who is supportive and accepting of that is to be commended, since he obviously cares that his wife is happy doing what she wants to do with her life as values her goals as a person in her own right and not just his woman. The only caveat should be the overall well-being of the family not being negatively affected, and taking into consideration any issues arising when children are involved, since they have rights to full and proper care.

As for Ms. Lewis, I don’t think she represents the majority of women, least of all Muslim women. She represents someone who made her life’s big decisions according to one extreme and is now advocating the opposite because it backfired on her. And even then, who is to say she would feel fulfilled if she did have children and a husband, maybe the void in her life is really God? In any case, it’s only card carrying feminists who would actively sacrifice a family in relentless pursuit of career, and I don’t think many Muslim women would do that.

Now I’m going to have my turn and speak on behalf of half the world’s population as well.

I’d say most of us want to find a happy medium where we prioritize whatever we think should take precedence at a particular time in life. If we’re single it might be education, if we’re childless but married it might be work as well as being a wife, if we’re mothers it will probably be our children before anything else. We’d put careers and everything else on hold when need be for our parents, husbands or children. But if or when possible, we’d like to pursue our interests, be that study or working in a particular job, with the support and help of our families. As great as they are, we’d like to contribute something to the world other than babies and good meals, and for some of us, those things are not even possible at all, so having a positive role outside the home is vital to being productive human beings, doing good and benefitting people.

Basically I do think it’s possible to have it all, if the “all” that you want is sensible in the sense that it takes into consideration those close to you and doesn’t cause harm to you or your family in the long run and that’s something everyone has to judge for themselves because everyones family, husband and circumstances are different. I suppose it would be more accurate then to say that I think it’s possible to have a little bit of everything at some point in life.