"Get up you whiney little creatures, its sehri time, aren't you going to fast and be good kids just like your father?" i screamed, as my little 12 year olds were kicking and moaning at the sound of my voice, and startling at the vigor of the way I shook them back into their conscious.

These kids were such chaotic little angels. I had to face them every night and every dawn for this entire month of ramzan. They would take hours to go to sleep and the same amount of time waking up. Its hard being a mother, especially to such hyperactive creations of God.

Here I am, making sehri for them, and they, asleep in their beds not knowing what parenting is all about which they are surely not going to learn with such lack of knowledge about the way their mother feels. At the moment it is 5:15 a.m, I have four children unwilling to get up, and I have dark circles under my eyes, a swollen wrist, an aching back and the youngest of my four kids is an eight year old confusion.

Dad should have arranged me a robot along with my marriage.