Yemeni shakshuka is a warm, aromatic, scrambled delight
At age 4, she and her family are living in Mogadishu, Somalia, 'and the city of my childhood is no longer a bustling and burgeoning metropolis but a vacant and violent war zone,' she writes in her new cookbook.
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Yahoo
3 hours ago
- Yahoo
I just want to make things easier for my kids during back-to-school season. I'm learning they don't need me to.
While back-to-school season is exciting, it's also stressful — more for me than for my kids. They often have short-lived crises that I want to solve for them. I've realized they can actually do a lot for myself, and I don't need to be a helicopter parent. The start of school is always exciting — the fresh notebooks, the first-day photos, the promise of new beginnings. But it's also always a bit more stressful than I anticipate. Not for my kids so much, oddly enough. For me. My kids' crises pass quickly, but they still throw me off Last year, my middle daughter was driving herself to school for the first time. The morning had all the nerves you'd expect: traffic, new routines, figuring out parking. She came home in tears. "I hate the minivan," she said. "I hate the spot I got. I hate that guy." "That guy" was the student parked next to her. She'd bumped her car into his while trying to back out of her assigned space. Not a major accident, but enough to unravel her on day one. I sprang into action. Should we call the school and request a new spot? Should she drive our smaller car? Should I drive her again? I spent days brainstorming possible fixes. I even dreamt about it — as I'm prone to do when I have something on my mind. A few days later, I cautiously suggested a few solutions. She blinked at me. "Oh, it's fine now," she said. "We're actually friends. He helped me back out today." Crisis over. Emotional storm, passed. No intervention needed. This year, it was my youngest daughter who sent me spiraling. She started at a new high school — a great one, but very different from her last. And not the same one her sister goes to. "I wish I had stayed at my old school," she said that first afternoon. "It's so big and different." My mom-heart panicked. My brain lit up with possible fixes. Could I transfer her back? Get more involved? Organize a social? Learn lunch schedules and stage a "spontaneous" meet-cute with potential friends? But by the end of the first week, she was chattering about teachers she liked, the friends she was sitting with, and the conversation she had with a senior who walked her to the library. She was fine. I often want to step in even when my kids don't need it Turns out, I react more strongly to these transitions than my daughters do. I wouldn't call myself a helicopter parent — I don't monitor their grades or email their teachers. But when one of them feels off, even for a moment, I feel it in my whole body. I don't want to take over, I just want to fix the hard parts. Smooth the path. Pad the corners a bit. But they rarely need me to do any of that. They have their own resilience, their own coping skills, their own ways of figuring things out. And they do figure things out — often faster than I do. It's humbling. And honestly, a little uncomfortable. My girls are growing up. They are becoming themselves in ways that don't require my full-time emotional project management. And while I'll probably never stop feeling deeply when they're struggling, I can learn to sit with those feelings instead of acting on them. I'm still here to listen, offer support, and yes, quietly dream up backup plans. But I'm working on not letting my own discomfort steer the ship. Sometimes parenting means holding back — not because you don't care, but because you do. So I'm trying to helicopter less. Or maybe just hover at a higher altitude. Read the original article on Business Insider Solve the daily Crossword
Yahoo
5 hours ago
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New Mom Is 'Having a Hard Time' with Husband, Who Is 'Not Helping' with the Newborn 12 Days Postpartum
Her husband, she writes, "sleeps in until 11 am so I'm taking care of the baby the majority of the time" NEED TO KNOW A woman who gave birth less than two weeks ago says her husband isn't helping out — and his family won't leave her alone In a Reddit post, she writes that her in-laws come over "every weekend" Her husband, meanwhile, "sleeps in until 11 am so I'm taking care of the baby the majority of the time. When he holds her, he's always on the phone with her watching TikTok," she writes A woman who is 12 days postpartum with her first child says she is "having a hard time" with her husband and his family, who are "not helping" with the new baby. In a post shared to Reddit, the woman writes that her in-laws "showed up right after I gave birth." While the majority of his family arrived while she was "still bleeding with a catheter in," the others arrived "the second we got to the postpartum room." "I again was sitting in my diaper and gown still hooked up to an IV while they footballed my baby around. They showed up everyday we were there and spent hours there," she writes. Now that the couple has gone home, her in-laws continue to make visits "every weekend." The post continues: "Today my husband's family came over again, this time it was his aunt and her husband plus his cousin and her husband plus two kids. After two hours I was exhausted and trying to hint for everyone to go. My husband is more concerned about playing host than helping or looking out for me." "My husband sleeps in until 11 am so I'm taking care of the baby the majority of the time. When he holds her, he's always on the phone with her watching TikTok," she adds. After a recent family visit, the woman "started sobbing," and told her husband she "can not do long visits right now." "He got very defensive and brought up that my parents flew in for a few days after I delivered and spent a lot of time with us," she writes. "I said that my parents cooked meals, cleaned, did grocery shops, did our laundry and were actually helpful. On the other hand, I had to clean up after his family and their kids left messes all over our apartment today. His cousin['s] kids are nice but they took over the TV and were blasting kids shows for hours and just running around yelling." She continues: "I'm extremely frustrated and feeling very unsupported by my husband. How would you handle this? I feel like my needs are being completely ignored here. I need support so I can take care of the baby, he doesn't seem to get that." Never miss a story — sign up for to stay up-to-date on the best of what PEOPLE has to offer, from celebrity news to compelling human interest stories. Fellow Reddit users are taking to the comments section to voice their support for the poster, with one writing: "Ok you absolutely need to take control of your postpartum. Have your husband tell his family you're taking time off from visitors so you can rest and reconnect. Lock your doors, hold firm." Adds another commenter: "Why is your husband sleeping until 11am? You need to start there, I think." Read the original article on People Solve the daily Crossword
Washington Post
6 hours ago
- Washington Post
In Kenya's capital, a new Rastafari temple shows the movement's endurance
NAIROBI, Kenya — At a recent opening of the newest Rastafari place of worship just outside Kenya's capital , some of the faithful gathered to sing rhythmic songs, read Scripture and exchange teachings on the appropriate way to live. The rare event — opening a tabernacle made of wooden poles and roofed with iron sheets — illustrated the community's expanding ranks in a country where until recently Rastafari was not considered a legitimate religion . Things changed in 2019 with a court ruling in favor of a petitioner who cited discrimination when her school demanded that she cut her dreadlocks, often preferred by those who follow the Rastafari religion. The student's refusal to cut her locks had resulted in her expulsion from school, but the High Court ruled Rastafari was a legitimate religion that should be protected, a ruling later affirmed by the Supreme Court. Across the world, the faithful are known as Rastafarians, members of the movement launched in 1930 with the coronation in Ethiopia of Ras Tafari Mekonnen as Emperor Haile Selassie I. Rastafarians believe Selassie was the final incarnation of the biblical Jesus, and during his reign many Rastafarians made pilgrimage to the Horn of Africa nation. For Rastafarians, Ethiopia was a symbol of pride for its unbroken resistance to colonizers and Selassie was Jah, the deity. Selassie was removed from power in a 1974 coup by a military junta. He died a year later. But the movement inspired by his rise to power in Ethiopia survives in countries ranging from the United States to Ghana. It is unclear how many people identify as Rastafari in Kenya, a country dominated by Christians and Muslims. At least 30 Rastafarians came to the tabernacle opening in Ruai, some 25 kilometers (15 miles) east of Nairobi, last month. In Kenya, the movement is set up under three 'mansions' or branches: Nyabinghi, Bobo Ashanti and The Twelve tribes of Israel. The 'mansions' represent small groups of Rastafarians who meet to worship together. Unlike traditional places of worship that are housed in architect-designed permanent structures, a Rastafari tabernacle is built with wooden poles, roofed with iron sheets and decorated in the unmistakable Rastafari colors of red, yellow and green. Rastafarians around the world have a reputation for their unique Afrocentric spirituality, and they are generally known to be peace advocates. They oppose oppression and gravitate to music and art. The Jamaican reggae singer Bob Marley was a famous Rastafari. There are challenges, including those that stem from misunderstandings about the religion. Across East Africa, Rastafarians are often stereotyped as lazy and indulging in prohibited substances like marijuana. Known to Rastafarians as ganja, marijuana is an important item in religious ceremonies. The community has been growing in Kenya, attracting mostly young people. Ng'ang'a Njuguna, a Rastafari elder in the Nyabinghi mansion of Kenya, describes Rastafari as not just a religion but a way of life. 'It is a spiritual way of life,' he said. 'That is why we connect with nature, we connect with animals, we connect with every living being because Rastafari is all about the spiritual world.' Fedrick Wangai, 26, is one of the newest members. He converted six years ago in what he described as his emancipation from Western religion. 'I grew up in a Christian setup and I ended up questioning the faith because it was made by the white man who was the colonial master of my forefathers,' he said. 'Growing up for me in that religion was very difficult for me because I believe it brought division to the Black people.' Christine Wanjiru, a 58-year-old who became a Rastafarian in 1994, making her one of the oldest members of her community, recalled that being one once was difficult as it often attracted discrimination and stigma. 'Back then, there was a lot of stigma and discrimination against Rastafari,' she said. 'Most people never saw Rastafari as a good thing or a spiritual thing, from family members to the government, the police, all round. But we endured and we are here today.' She added, however, that since then 'more brethren have received this light and have come to Rastafari.' Ng'ang'a Njuguna, an elder in the Nyabinghi mansion, says the movement has been growing largely because of interest from young Kenyans. 'They have that fire, they like how Rasta people carry themselves, how Rasta people live,' he said. 'Our diet, art and skills.' ___ Associated Press writer Rodney Muhumuza in Kampala, Uganda, contributed to this report. ___ Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP's collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.
