Last night I was sitting outside, watching the night sky, thinking about my future podcasting session. Khawlah was still half-awake next to me trying to stop Sonic (our melliois), mumbling something about baking a cake and mayonnaise. The others were inside, winding down after a long day of chicken drama, goat escapes, and endless questions about how many stars there actually are. And somewhere between an untrained puppy and the silence, I started thinking about how different childhood looks when you’re trying to raise kids with Islam at the center — not just rules and rituals, but mercy. Real, Prophet-level mercy. And I realized: I’ve been getting some of it wrong.

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“I have never seen anyone more kind to children…”

That’s not something a sahabi casually mentioned. That’s Anas ibn Malik — the guy who spent ten years living with the Prophet ﷺ — saying:

> “I have never seen anyone more kind to children than the Messenger of Allah.” (Sahih Muslim, 2316)

Think about that. The greatest man to ever walk this earth — the most responsible, most burdened, most mission-driven human being — paused to be kind to children.

Not just polite. Kind.

That makes me stop and ask myself:

> Am I kind to my kids? Or just functional?

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When Affection Becomes Sunnah

I’ll be honest. Growing up, I didn’t see a lot of affection from the men around me. Discipline? Plenty. Pressure? Yeah, that too. But affection? That was rare.

And yet here we are, reading a hadith where the Prophet ﷺ kissed his grandson, and when a man scoffed at that, he responded:

> “Whoever is not merciful to others will not be treated mercifully.”
(Sahih al-Bukhari, 5997; Sahih Muslim, 2318)

It’s not just a sweet story. It’s a warning.

We raise our kids with rules and routines — and that’s good. But without rahmah (mercy), it’s just control. And no one thrives under control alone.

Sometimes, mercy looks like stopping your work to play with a child who just built a spaceship out of bricks. Even if that spaceship is blocking the pantry door.

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“Perfect their manners” — Not Just “Keep Them Busy”

The Prophet ﷺ said:

> “Be kind to your children and perfect their manners.”
(Sunan Ibn Majah, 3671 – Hasan)

Notice the order: kindness first, then manners.

That hits hard in a world where a lot of us start parenting with rules, expectations, schedules… even checklists.

I’ve seen this firsthand with our unschooling journey. The best learning doesn’t come from lectures. It comes from trust, example, and gentleness.

You can’t teach adab with shouting. You can’t install character like an app. It grows when you water it — with kindness.

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When You Have Six Kids, Fairness Gets Real

> “Fear Allah and be just to your children.”
(Sahih al-Bukhari, 2587; Sahih Muslim, 1623)

Let’s just say… I’ve failed this one more times than I’d like to admit.

Six kids means six personalities, six sets of needs, and six different versions of “That’s not fair!” echoing through the house before 8am.

But this hadith reminds me that fairness isn’t a luxury — it’s a command. And it doesn’t always mean giving the same thing. It means giving each one what they need, when they need it, without bias.

That includes attention. Hugs. Time. Praise. Listening.

It also includes not making my youngest feel like the leftovers of my patience.

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Salah, Structure, and Starting Early

There’s something beautiful about teaching children salah. It’s not about pressure — it’s about presence.

> “Command your children to pray when they are seven…”
(Sunan Abi Dawood, 495 – Sahih)

I’ll admit: I didn’t always know how to introduce salah in a way that didn’t feel like I was forcing it. But what worked for us — especially living off-grid, without being able to hear the athan and school bells — was rhythm.

Morning prayer at sunrise. Evening salah just after playing with the sheep. Du’a when we lose something (which, with kids, is hourly).

Salah becomes part of life — not just a ritual.

And when they see you praying — with focus, not frustration — they imitate you faster than you think.

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A Blessing, Not a Burden

Allah says:

> “Wealth and children are [but] adornment of the worldly life.”
(Surah Al-Kahf, 18:46)

That’s both a reminder and a warning.

Yes, they’re beautiful. But they’re also a test. And on days when someone drops the entire seed bucket into the pond (true story), I try to remind myself:

This chaos is a gift.

One day, the noise will fade. The questions will stop. And the small hands reaching for mine will move on.

So for now — I’ll take the interruptions, the mess, and the questions. Because this isn’t just parenting. It’s ibadah.

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Still Figuring It Out…

I don’t have all the answers.

I still lose my cool. Still raise my voice. Still feel like I’m winging it half the time between code deployments, broken wheelbarrows, and kids asking deep questions at midnight.

But if the Prophet ﷺ — the most burdened man in the ummah — could stop and play, kiss his grandchildren, show mercy and fairness…

Then so can I.

And maybe that’s the best lesson of all.

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⚠️ Disclaimer

I’m not a Sheikh or Islamic scholar. I’m just a father raising six kids off-grid, trying to live according to the Sunnah. If I’ve misunderstood or misquoted anything, please correct me. All Qur’an and hadith references have been checked for authenticity.