The Beginning of Spinning

I started something I'm incredibly excited about this week. I attended an RPM class. Also known as "spinning" to some.

All these years I've looked at people going to gym classes in awe and envy. The people who attend dance, body combat, step, and so on.. look so well-coordinated and fit. When I started going to the gym in April, I didn't think I could go to any of the classes. Truth was I didn't have the guts to. I knew I'd end up just embarrassing or disappointing myself.

When I started training for all the marathons, my trainer A started me on a regime of exercises aimed to strengthen my legs (which were sooo unfit!) and increase my endurance. When he started me on a cycling regime.. I thought he'd gone mad. Burn calories while sitting on my backside..? Get real. Marathoners look fit and lean. Cyclist look lean too, sure, but hey they've got big thighs still coz they're always sitting on their bums...! Right? Wrong.

Those thighs are pure muscle!

A got me started on interval training. Basically this means that I have to pedal VERY intensely for 3 minutes, then rest for a minute or a minute and a half. And back to intense pedaling for 3 minutes, then rest again. Every session was a minimum of 30 minutes of interval training.

The first change I noticed was my level of fitness. I don't get breathless on my walks anymore. My cardio capacity and capability increased so much, I was genuinely surprised.

Then I noticed my legs don't look like elephant trunks anymore. Could it be that.... I was getting fitter...?! Perasannnnnnnnnnnn :p

Then I noticed that those 10 km walks stopped hurting. Miracle of all miracles.

And finally, I realised that I could jog again!

Yes jog! Praise Allah! I haven't jogged in 8 years since they put those implants in me and I felt as if my insides rattled everytime I jogged. And ever since those semi-paralysed days, I just didn't dare to overdo my left leg because sometimes it still acts like a "lazy" leg.

So yesterday, I decided to try out the RPM (spinning i.e. cycling) class. I figured if it started hurting... I'd sneak quietly out the door ;D

The instructor was a good guy who helped us set up our bikes coz we had no clue how those spinning bikes work.

The minute the music and cycling started.. I knew I'd found one more thing I thoroughly, truly, genuinely, truly ENJOY.

Today my neck, shoulders and bum hurt like you wouldn't believe it.

But you bet I'm going to the RPM class again tomorrow!

Now this item's on my next birthday's wish list... ;)

The CICM Responsible Care Run 2010 in Bukit Jalil

It was a simple community run, and though the efforts they put in showed, it wasn't the most organized of all runs.

The reason I said that was because there was no clear, big signage showing the path for 5 km and/or 10 km. The result...? The kids (my nephew Shazwan and niece Sarah) ended up taking the wrong path (the one for the 10km runners!) and missed the 5 km path altogether. Thank goodness they were told to cut their run short when they approached a volunteer (they were wondering why there weren't very many youngsters on their route, whereas their category was supposed to be for the kiddies), and returned to the stadium after about 6 km. Poor souls! But kids being kids, they didn't mind the extra mileage at all.. not even a bit, especially after seeing their medals and certs. Top that up with the free Vico, Revive, Gardenia buns and nasi lemak they got for free, and the run ended on a high note for them.

The route itself wasn't the greatest (having to past the heavy traffic of the highways surrounding Bukit Jalil) but hey, that was to be expected. I was ready for that, but wasn't ready for the fact that the road closure wasn't very safe. Only half a lane was shut off for the runners (with cones meters apart! Would've been much safer with the cones closer together..), and the cars zoomed by with no regards as we struggled to stay within the closed half-lane. Overtaking other joggers was no easy feat with the cars steadily zooming by.

And that's the reason why we weren't happy that there weren't proper signage for the 5km runners because the kids (and according to them there were other "lost" kids as well) ended up having to follow the busy traffic-laden 10km route. Kids can get rowdy when running, so it was pretty worrying.

But!

Although my performance wasn't personally satisfying.. I still felt a bit batak in the end (super-excited!) because...



I got my first medal.

Hahahhahahahhhaahhaaaaaaaaaaaa

Jakun!

The Penang Marathon

.. is the first time I'd walked/jogged in the rain, feeling trapped like a mouse in a full-caged mousetrap, yet coming close to having the most memorable time of my life as I watched the sun rise on the horizon, as I was walking on the bridge that otherwise usually carries motor vehicles, not human traffic as we saw that Saturday.

.. is the first 10 km marathon in which I managed to record a finishing time of below 1 hour 30 minutes. Maybe it was the rain which felt cool and freeing on my face, all salty mixed with sweat (instead of the hot hot heat and unrelenting sun on that day of the Serdang Mizuno Waverun Marathon a month ago).. maybe it was the fact that even though I was in foreign surrounding, I did manage to memorise the marathon route this time around instead of going in blind (which usually caused me many moments of... "Are we there yet?? How much longer lahhhh...??"...)...

I don't know what it is, but this was undoubtedly the best one I've had so far. And mind you, I went into it alone, I ran alone, I finished alone. No H this time or anyone else. Because H went for the 21 km run at 3 a.m. and was finished by the time I started my 10 km.

So I guess the best part of it was knowing that finally I can say that there really is no competition in this cocoon of mine except for myself.

Maybe marathons are simply the fashion of the moment. Maybe it won't be fashionable 10 years from now. But you can be sure that I'll try my hardest not to forget these feelings of Syukur (thankfulness) and awe that I feel about God and His blessings everytime I run and finish a marathon.

I do not take this walking ability You give me for granted. :) Where I was once nearly paralysed, I'm walking normally again now. And each marathon gives me that realisation, over and over again.

So go ahead, seriously, try a marathon out. Maybe you'd be as surprised as I am at what you'll discover about yourself.


The sunrise.

Friends of the Heart

I love my old friends. I really do. We've been through thick and thin. They've tolerated so much from me, and vice versa I'm sure ;)

But alas, even old friends change.

When I gave birth to Gibran and chose to change my priorities, I was shocked when I actually lost some friends. The biggest shocker for me was losing my oldest, best-est friend. At least, I thought she was. When my priorities changed and family became my main priority (instead of career, friends and fun).. I lost her, and a few more.

To tell you the truth, I was 15 weeks pregnant with Gibran when I was first exposed to the idea of the life-changing magnitude a baby would bring. A bunch of us were vacationing at a friend's seaside summer home in a town two hours outside Melbourne CBD (gosh, can't recall the name of the place now), when our friend Mr. Murali told H..

"When your baby is born, you'll see who your real friends are. You'll lose some, you know. Don't worry about it. You'll see who will really stick by you."

Back then I thought it was such a joke.

Why would our lives change so drastically? I'd had the same best friends since I was in primary school. I was so sure life would pretty much be the same post-baby.

Gosh, how wrong was I lah....?

Gibran was born. He was so so so ill. He nearly died. And that was the closest brush I had to mortality, other than when Ninie my best bud had died a year before that.

Realisation of mortality changes you. Big time.

When we started turning down invitations to go out, even during broad daylight (because of a constantly ill infant), the number of friends H and I had..... dwindled.

When my implants got infected and I chose to quit work for good and stay home for good (because there were so many missed moments with my child already, after so many months of being sick and confined to the bed, not being able to participate in the "living" of daily routines..)... the number dwindled even further.

It was a huge reality check.

Whatever it is, the ones I still have, I cherish so very much. Really, I do.

They might not know it, they might not believe it. But my family and the few friends I have... are the very core of my world.

I do wish I could see them more often! But everyone has their own lives and I respect that. Just as I'm sure they respect my life as well.

And that acceptance of the bad that comes with all the good that friends bring... is indeed what I hope will sustain our friendships till our golden years. InsyaAllah. Amen.


Gosh we don't look that young anymore, do we?! I must find a picture when we were in our 20s and do a comparison soon ;p


Mummy friends help me remain sane.


For their acceptance of my little (not-so-little) baby... I can't thank them enough.

How did your life change...?

White Flag, Flagged

Remember how I've hung my white kitchen towel as a surrender-flag..?

Yessss sirree.

If you asked me a year ago if I wanted another maid after our imposter-of-a-maid ran off, I'd have told you "No way!" ....

After a year blinked by and everyday my life is consumed by laundry, dishes, screaming kid (and parents! i.e. us screaming at each other!)... this no-salary, no-promotion job has definitely taken its toll. H and I haven't had a date in a year, I haven't done any marketing or lecturing-related job in a year (don't even ask me what's the latest in the marketing or education world, dudes..), the only movies we see are cartoon flicks with Gibran yakking away in our ears and us trying to hush him as he bothers the people around us with his constant yakking, my sleeping time has been reduced to 2 am to 8 am (very unhealthy).. and the worst part was my increased grouchiness.

I indeed salute those full-time maidless housewives and full-time maidless working mums out there for their dedication and willingness of continual self-sacrifice done without an ounce of grouchiness. Because obviously I'm not one of those.

So, braving the tense-ness and frustrations that come with having a maid.. we're trying out a new maid right now. She arrived four days ago and is learning the ropes, as we speak.

No I'm not gonna say anything about her or the situation. I'm not evaluating her. I'm not judging her. I'm not saying it's good, or it's not good. I'm only saying... Tawakkaltu A'lallah... I am leaving this 100% to the Almighty. I pray that this maid is a good human being inside. That's it.

Nothing is within my control. It is all in His hands.

On my part... the only thing I can say is... DANG, I'll have to look into job opportunities for next year.

Soon.

A Letter to Malaysian Marathon Runners

I'd better write this while I have the time and flow.

Dear Marathon Runners,

It was indeed an exciting day today as we flocked together to run the 5km and 10km marathons right there in front of KLCC, in the wee hours of the morning. The excitement was electric and it was indeed a memorable picture to be gathered in a place where we'd otherwise wouldn't be allowed to walk on, much less run.

Perhaps for most of you this wasn't your first marathon. Why, there was the Standard Chartered KL marathon earlier this year. Then there are countless marathons and races around Malaysia and Singapore that I don't even know of. Just looking at the countless blogs on running made me realise that marathons and races have become the fashionably healthy thing to participate in right now. After my first marathon I'd comme to love the adrenaline, hence it was natural to join as many marathons as I am able to. It's a joy to walk and run in the early hours of dawn, where in truth, one's competition is only oneself.

Now let me blunt and just let out what needs to be said.

I know it's exciting to be all pumped up to run as immediately as the word "Go!" is shouted out, but please, please PLEASE take note that safety should be your first priority.

I'm not talking about your own safety. If any of you are willing to hurt yourself by hurling through the crowd at a speedy pace without a proper warmup or whatever, that's your business. I'm talking about the safety of other people around you.

Is it really necessary to barge into people, even elbow them aside to fight your way to the front of the crowd just so you seem very "terrer" and awesome? Please. For those that did just that, by now you should obviously realise that being an awesome runner is all you're good for. Well, good on you.. because you've displayed that kindness and sporting spirit is definitely nowhere in your personality traits.

It's a marathon. Marathons are filled with people. Big crowds. You want to have a lot of personal space while running, go and run somewhere alone. Don't join the big crowds.

And has it ever occured to you that accidents can easily happen? Does it ever occur to you that you could badly hurt someone, to the extend of changing their lives?

I've had two major spinal surgeries in my life. A bad smack or a bad fall could affect my spine and the lodged-in titanium implant on my spine. So I do keep aside for the crowds to past. I try very hard not to get in people's way. And the way everybody pushed and elbowed each other to get ahead was putting vivid images of yet another spinal surgery right there in my head.

Of course I realise we run at our own risk and if you want to stay safe and sound, for God's sake, just stay at home. But really, people, even if the streets were filled with perfectly healthy people... it does not make it alright for you to be rude and rash.

So go ahead and run. But please be more considerate of the people you are shoving and elbowing aside for the sake of an extra two to three seconds of better-ing your time.

Thanks for reading.

Yours Sincerely,

A slow and steady walker-jogger.

Doing the 5 km for the Nike City Run 2010

I didn't do good at all. I finished it in a few seconds above 48 minutes.

That'll teach me to stuff myself silly with unhealthy, heavy foods just half a day before a race.

So heed the warnings in your bodies, folks. If your body tells you you're overeating, chances are your system is really affected by all that "good" food... and that ain't good for your health. The world would be a better place if we could control ourselves from overeating!!

Anyways, time to train for the 11 km Mizuno Run next week. I'd better lay off the heavies and oilies this time around.

The Melantak Family

We just came back from an overnight stay in Johor Bharu. Yes JB. It was for our cousin Dina's wedding reception.

Good God, the whole family must've eaten enough food to feed ten armies.

For our little family, it started with a humble bowl of mee rebus muar at the Pagoh rest stop. It was decent, so I decided to ask for "No taugeh, extra mee please bang.."

That kind of set the tempo for the rest of the holiday. There was no stopping the gluttons within us. It was all systems go.

The mee rebus came back full to the brim, with deliciously sweet gravy nearly spilling out of the embarrassingly huge bowl. They'd put perhaps four fistfuls tauhus in there, and a whole boiled egg.

Then that night it was the reception dinner.

Everyone had seconds. And thirds. Then fourths. Err.. perhaps some of us had more than that. I tell ya, I haven't drooled over ayam masak merah like that in what seems like ages.

Then in the morning, the whole gang met at the coffee house for the buffet breakfast. I think we nearly gave the manager a heart attack.

Everyone stayed for more than an hour, polishing off many, many, many plates of food.

Then too soon it was time to go our own ways.

For H, Gibran, my mum, aunt and myself.... it meant more food.

We faithfully followed the GPS instructions to a wicked murtabak stall in Kampung Melayu Majidi where together we promptly devoured a plate of rojak (containing tempeh and spareparts.. yummehh), a special beef murtabak and an ayam murtabak. And ais kacang on top of all that, please.

We even tapau-ed some for our family and friends in KL.

We managed to behave pretty well all the way home, only stopping for canned Nescafe, isotonic drinks and yogurt drink for the li'l fella who'd been competing his appetite nicely alongside ours throughout the journey.

You'd think the rah-rah-go-foooooood tempo would stop once we reached KL. Wrong.

By 8 p.m. we figured we'd behaved long enough to earn a nice meal at Homst TTDI.

And so we devoured four large lauks with platefuls of rice.

And that, my friends, was our MELANTAK weekend so far.

Thank God for the Nike City Run tomorrow.

The Guard House

Our house is beside the guard house. You see, we have guards guarding certain entry points around the neighbourhood, and making rounds every 30 minutes or so to check on all houses. At these entry points they've erected small guard houses, and one of it is right beside our house.

You'd think it's nice to have the guards at your doorstep. Is it? Think again.

Safety-wise, I gotta admit that I've more confidence now about coming home alone with just Gibran. If any dodgy characters come ringing on my doorbell, the guards would immediately come to attention and walk right up to the front gate to ask if everything is alright. When I shriek madly in the middle of the night after a close encounter with the house lizards (cicaks la...), they'd enquire if everything is alright. So undeniably, I feel safer in my own home after the guards have been put in place.

In the past couple of months though, the neighbourhood society decided to close the boomgate beside our house at night (after 9 p.m.) and leave the guardhouse unguarded from 9 p.m. to 6 a.m. (when they re-open the boomgate). So now our house isn't closely guarded as it was before. I was pretty sore about that but H takes it in stride and tries to make me look on the bright side, which is the fact that the guards are still making their rounds every 30 minutes or so, and the guardhouse beside our house is still one of the main checkpoints. Yeah alright... that's something lah, at least.

But we're paying for the electricity that they use for the guardhouse, and that darn spotlight that they keep switched on the whole night long. At the very least, I deserve to feel safe in my house at night too. Not just during the day.

Let me tell you why I don't feel safe at night.

Just a few days back, we found out that someone had stolen the desk that was placed in the guard house outside our house. Right from under our noses. Right outside our house. In the middle of the night when the place is unguarded.

Tell me, what's stopping them to do more than steal from the guardhouse...?

Perish the thought. Nauzubillah!

Sorry mister guards, I like you guys a lot, you guys are always polite and alert and there's no reason for me to kutuk you. So please understand I'm not kutuk-ing you, the guards.

I'm just wondering if I should be paying for next year security fees.

Tired!

I am tired of clicking on "No" for every event I get invited to on FB. Can??? Maybe I should deactivate my account yet again. But then I'd get tired of not having something mindless and silly to surf when I'm feeling bored.

I am tired and want to sleep but cannot because I feel like it's too late to get good sleep. Can??? Then however else can I heal and recharge this tired body??

It's so silly that it makes me wonder. The things that make us tired are just so... insignificant. Yet they must be significant enough, coz they do make us so tired.

Gosh, am I making sense at all??

Tomorrow I have training in the morning at the gym and I am tired of training but I must train because I love food too much. So exercise to me is a necessary evil. Or necessary goodness. Take it either ways, it's just a tiring thing to have to do four to five times a week. I get tired of the gym and I get tired of overeating. And yet I cannot stop.

In the evening I'd get tired of doing my Arabic homework because I'm tired of the fact that it's been 2 years since we started our Arabic classes but we don't speak well enough anyway. And then I'll feel tired of my boredom of Arabic and the reality then would dawn on me that if I study a bit more, this tiredness of not being able to speak Arabic would decrease slowly but surely. And yet I can't seem to find the time to change this tiredness.

Hot DANG. So many things that one can be tired of, all in just one day. Or less.

So what are you tired of?

Having One, Or Having None At All

My mummy-group friend, S, is a thalassemia minor carrier and so is her husband. When she was pregnant with her child, A (who's Gibran's classmate now), his fetus had to be tested to determine if abortion would be required. As Allah willed it, A escaped the dreaded fate.

S is not willing to go through the traumatic experience ever again. There is too large a chance that the next baby would not be so lucky, and termination might be required. So she isn't going to have another baby.

A week ago she told me it fully hit her, finally, that A would never have a sibling to squabble and grow up with. A would always be playing alone and would never know the joys and sorrows of having siblings. And when S and her husband leave this world, A will be alone with noone to reminisce his childhood with. And as the reality dawned on her, she cried all night long.

My other friend, A, has serious thyroid problems and is advised against having babies. She took the risk and had one. And nearly died from it. The child is now 11 years old, the apple of her eye, the center of her being and everything that she lives for. In shopping complexes, she looks at stressed-out mothers with battalions of kids with eyes full of yearning. When there are babies at our get-togethers she can be found sitting with them, not with the adults. She holds on to her daughter's hand as they walk together much as if it was her lifeline.

Sometimes I don't know which is worse. Having one, or having none at all.

At every family gathering there will be somebody who asks us why we aren't having any more kids, and why we're so slow at reproducing. Don't we want to give Gibran a friend? Indeed we are being selfish. Hmmmm.

At every gathering when mothers talk about kids, we are cast aside and our opinions aren't given due credit because.. ".. it isn't the same for you, you wouldn't know how it is, you've only got one kid."

I wouldn't change my fate for anything in the world. The day Gibran came into my life was the best day of my life. So say what you want. Criticise me, scorn at me. I stand by this question.

Is it really better to have one, than to have none at all..?

Yeah, bring on the punches.

At House of Pakeeza

H and I met up with S&S (a couple who're good friends of ours who used to stay in Kemaman but have recently relocated to Selangor) earlier tonight for Iftar at House of Pakeeza in Seksyen 14.

The food was good, except the desserts which were pretty hopeless. The palak paneer we ordered on the side was great as usual. And the free flow of sirap is always good ;) Yes I'm easy to please.

Then as the night went on and the crowd thinned, I saw something that made me seriously displeased.

It was about 9+ p.m. by then, and we were amongst the few people still lingering there, chatting as we always do. I glanced over at the kueh section and saw a waiter collecting the pakoras which have fallen out of its bowl onto the table with his hands. By the way, pakoras are like kueh goreng made of flour and lotsa veges. He collected the pakoras at the center of the table, lazily scooped them up with both of his hands, and dumped them back into its bowl.

Yes, that's right. He'd put the fallen pakoras back into its serving dish and he'd even arranged the tongs nicely in the bowl so that the next person that comes along could unknowingly take the pakoras for a nice munching session.

I don't know about you.. but I find that a little more than distasteful. Very unappealing. Gross, even.

First, the pakoras were already scattered around the table. When I saw him collecting the pakoras with both his right and left hands.. I'd seriously thought he was going to dispose of them in the garbage bin, or at least have them taken away from the table.

Secondly.. How clean are those hands that have been serving tables all night? And to use both your right and left hand too.... now, think, what d'ya usually use your left hand for, fellas?

Thirdly.. come on, if you can do that in plain view of customers... what the heck are you capable of doin in the kitchen? YUCK. Perish the thought.

There should be such a thing as a Restaurant Police.

Everyday Promises

Everyday I promise myself I'd go to bed at midnight the latest and that way I'd have at least 8 hours sleep which would help the human body to regenerate and recharge. And at 2 a.m. here I am, too sleepy to sleep but yearning for sleep with all my might.

Everyday I promise myself I won't lose my temper with the little one (err and the big one too) because it's just not a conducive thing to do. Plus it's tiring too. And by midday when the little one is demanding to have maggi for lunch instead of the lunch I cooked, and the big one drives up the driveway smiley and happy to be home from a good day at work, a sweaty and grumpy me who constantly does not have enough hands to do all the chores all at once finds it hard to smile or say anything pleasant except to give out whips of snappy remarks and replies.

Everyday I promise myself I'd do the house chores without complain, for that is soo much better than having to tolerate an incompetent, lying maid who drives me up the wall. And by night time when it's 2 a.m. like this and I'm dead sleepy and yearning for sleep but too tired to sleep....

I know that tomorrow will once again be filled with the same empty promises.

Sighhhh.

Shoo Fly, Don't Bother Me. It's Ramadhan.

Shoo. Go away.

I'm talkin' bout the evils in my heart.

Gosh, who'd known there were so many....??!

When there's no Mister Setan around now you can really tell how many evils your heart actually carries. Hot Dang.

People who update status yang bukan-bukan on FB make me feel like deactivating my FB account again. They're unbearably irritating and (hey lets face it) some simply strive to activate the green-eyed monsterous-evilness in us through their gloats and boasts. Heh. Clearly the problem isn't them. It's this green-eyed evilness in this poor ol' heart.

People who judge me or anyone I love make me feel like physically kicking or slapping them. Clearly the problem isn't them. It's the short-trigger-temper evilness in the poor ol' heart.

And the son who has grown into a animated, mischievous, energetic but oftentimes annoying nearly-four-year-old kid makes me feel like shouting and tearing my hair out with his regular antics. Clearly the problem isn't him. For he is an innocent, colourful, pocket rocket of a crystal-clean soul. It is this short-fused-emotional-hysterics this poor ol' heart is used to.

Shoo evilness, get out of here. It's Ramadhan and I'm trying to detox.

Ramadan. Puasa.

Ramadan is a special special month to me. It's the month to cleanse one's soul. The month to feel all the goodness in you emerge in special ways and the evilness disappear in mysterious ways. Well, almost...

In reality, Ramadan is a nerve-wrecking month for me.

I get nervous about not being able to fast because I could not fast for 5 years when the gastric was so bad that I had to be on constant medication. Itu lah.. force yourself to puasa some more on hot, longgggggggggggg Australian summer days when your stomach cramps are already so bad you feel the room is spinning even when you're sitting down. That's what one gets for being plain $tupid.

I get nervous as the hour gets late and the evening heat makes us wither when all energy has been spent and everyone's running on their back-up power generator. Temper gets short, things can happen. And the most nerve-wrecking fact of it all is that you know that all this temper and bad-ness that comes out of you stems from deep within you, and it shows just what kind of a lousy human being you are, because... well, simply because there are no syaitans around to blame for bad behaviour when Ramadan's here.

And yet I look forward to Ramadan all year.

May this Ramadan be good to us.

Selamat Menyambut Ramadan, y'alls.

The Ridiculous Need for a Maid

We've been maid-less for nearly a year now and although it's been enlighteningly peaceful in the sense that your house is your own and you can even walk around the house naked if you want to coz there's no pain in the arse stranger skulking around your domain..... it hasn't been easy either.

I salute people who can go maid-less for years and years. Heck, for their whole lives, even. I salute people who don't let the laundry and the water spots on the floor get to them in the nastiest ways. I salute people who can live a normal life while not having a maid. I salute people who say yeahhhh, I can do this, no sweat, who needs a blardy maid?

Well it turns out I am not one of those people.

I need help scrubbing the toilets and the kitchen floor. Though this spine is strong and running marathons these days, it still can't tolerate long period of strains involving lots of bendings and squattings.

I need to feel the occasional freedom of going out without a kid to chase around while attempting to shop for things amidst shouts of; "Ban! You're wandering too far off, come back here!"... and more importantly, I need to feel the stress-free element of not burdening my kid on my parents or my in-laws whenever I need to go out without Gibran and am forced to leave him under their care for a certain period of time. That feeling that you're burdening someone (although your own family) is enough to cast a rain-cloud on my head everytime I go out Gibran-less because I feel stressed and rushed to get home quick, for fear of causing too much trouble and burden on his caregivers.

And for a purely selfish reason.. I need to have someone to delegate chores to, so that I can feel like I have an opportunity to live my life like a normal human being is supposed to. Not a human being who moans over spots on the floors and dishes that mountain up on the countertops when there is absolutely noone to help at all.

So go ahead, call me spoilt, call me selfish, call me drama-queen. Being a full-time stay-at-home mom with noone to help with folding a single piece of linen or washing a single piece of plate is absolutely the hardest job I've had to take on.

Some people can do it. Some people can be so relaxed in everything that they do. But I can't. I'm the type of person who mops the floors every single night and makes sure the countertops are spotless upon my final examination (nightly of course) before turning into bed.

Which, as pointed out by dear Hubs and various countless parties.. as seriously unhealthy.

So there.

I hang my white kitchen towels and give in.

One maid coming right up.

And please Allah, let her be sane and good.

A Surreal Passing..

Only today did I find out about the passing of Puan Raden Galoh. She passed away eleven days ago. So caught up was I in worldly things that I forgot to google her progress for two weeks now.

I've been reading her blog for a very long time and always, always say a doa for her everytime I visit the blog.

Now she's gone to a better place. InsyaAllah.

Al-Fatihah to an amazing soul. Subhanallah, indeed life is so surreal-ly short.

11 km Completed!

Yippeeyayyy yeaaaaaa!

I did it! Praise Allah! I finished in 1 hour 40 minutes.

Yes yes small fry for seasoned marathoners I'm sure. But for a twice-operated, temporarily-wheelchair-dependent Scoliosis patient such as I, it is a hugeeeeeeee deal. MasyaAllah.

Thank you God for good health and strength. Thank you for legs that can walk. Thank you for a rattle-free implant-free spine that now allows me to run when the urge hits. My gratitude is indescribable.

Now onto the next thing to aim for..

The Penang Marathon!

Baby Baby

I do. not. like. it when people ask me when we'd be having our number two.

A second child lah, that is.

A good friend with bigger fertility problems than mine used to reply.. "Esok! Esok aku keluarkan sebijik baby, tengok lah nanti!" with a wink and a smile so convincing, you'd never imagine the pain in that heart every time the question was asked.

Fertile people do not know the pain that infertility causes. They can say they do, but in all honesty, they. really. don't.

But in the meantime, I'll be saying this a lot, I can imagine.

"Tomorrow! Tomorrow I'll pop a baby out, you just see!"

Secret Suffering of a Gym Mum

Dear Gym-Goers,

We're all humans. All of us, each and every one, with no exception whatsoever. And being human, we all sweat. When it's warm and we're working out, we sweat.

That is stating the obvious.

So please. Please please please, all gym-goers...

I plead this.

Please make sure you wear deodorant before you work out.

You may feel that you don't smell when you sweat. That your body does not let out unwanted odours when sweating profusely. That your body is not genetically pungent. That deodorant is an evil weakness and not what mother nature or your body needs. But please face this little piece of reality....

None of us is special. None of us is spared when it comes to odours and sweat.

When you lift up an arm to wipe your face dry with a gym towel, subsequently letting out a whift of your underarm aromas..

Think of the reality of your normality.

So please...

Use deodorant.

Thank you.

Yours Most Most Most Sincerely,

Suffering Odour-Smeller.

Nervous

I will be walking alone this 25th July for the Orange Run. Well, for the most part that is. H will be there but hullo... he's a runner. I'm a walker.

Bleah...

11 km is "small fry" for seasoned marathoners. I, my friends, am not a seasoned marathon runner. Sure I go to the gym four to five times per week, but will that be enough?

Boleh ke ni...??



Nervous, nervous, nervous!

Woosa......... Orange Run Here I Come

Another item in this month's to-do list!



Woot woot! If I complete this one, I'm buying meself a pair of skinny jeans!

11 km's probably not a big deal to anyone else.. but for a girl who used to slipped away during the yearly school Jogathon through an alley that leads straight into a buddy's mom's kitchen... this IS a huge deal, y'alls.

Orange Run, here I come! Err.. although I'd most probably be walking.. or skipping, at the most. Hee..

Deactivating FB

Today, just a minute ago, I deactivated my FB account.

It felt good. It felt like a huge burden was lifted off my shoulders.

Ah bliss.

I have my own reasons to deactivate the account of course, but it hit me with full-force reality today that I've been online for more than half my life and I am sick of online politics. Ain't it enough that real-life politics can drag you down and challenge your beliefs? As one gets older, why must one subject oneself to unnecessarily added politics and stress that can be easily avoided with one button.

"DEACTIVATE ACCOUNT".

Done.

The Desire to Move On

Lately I've been feeling out of sorts.

Not that my life isn't happy. It truly is. I'm blessed with two exceptionally loving boys that are sensitive to my feelings and try hard to make me happy, always.

But there's something missing that I can't put a finger on.

Maybe its Gibran's hernia surgery coming up next week.

Maybe its the kitchen floor that never looks as clean as I like it to be even after being scrubbed endlessly by yours truly.

Maybe it's the fact that I workout so hard but only lose so little, in my opinion.

Or maybe I've been home too long and need a getaway somewhere.

Not of the holiday sort....

More like the moving sort.

Yeah I'm talking about moving away from here. This city. This country. This life and its tiresome, sickening politics.

Maybe humans are truly nomadic in nature. Maybe we weren't meant to stay in one place too long.


The place my heart misses.

The KL Marathon 2010

Today was super-awesome!


T'was our first time to join the KL Marathon fun :D

H completed the 10k run, while the rest of us a.k.a. "The Rookies" did the 5k Family Fun Walk. H got a medal, I got a finisher's certificate. Hee.

I don't remember KL looking that beautiful. Not since my childhood.

Running at 8 a.m. in the morning throughout the hilly inner roads and main roads of KL does that to you, I guess. When else do you get to do a jiggy-dance right there in the middle of Jalan Tunku Abd. Rahman??

This is definitely going to be a yearly date!

Eternally Young

She would've turned thirty today. And we would've been friends for 25 years this year.

We always joked about how we'd be buddies in our old days and because we both loved to shop, we'd be those orang-orang tua who still shopped like mad. Wearing tudung to cover the greys in my hair (she wouldn't have greys coz she'd be too vain to let em go grey!) and grumbling and b.i.t.c.h.i.n.g. about everything in life amidst LOUD laughter (always happened whenever we were together), we'd be buds till we had great grandchildren.

Alas, it will never happen.

Eternally young she will be.

When she was alive, I always wished her a happy birthday at a belated date. I've always been very bad with dates. We'd meet or chat on the phone and I'd ask her; "Ohhhh yeahhhhhh, so what did you do for your birthday??"... and she'd laugh and say; "Too late again, Nina! I knew it!"..

But today thanks to those savvy reminders we have nowadays, I remembered it on time. On this exact day, not a day too late. I'd love to hear her laugh out loud in amazement if she was still around, to hear that I'd wish her on time, once and for all.

You're still and always in my thoughts, my dear old friend.

May your soul always be amongst the solehins.

Shutting Down the Blogs

I might shut my blogs down. I always feel like I've run out of time for them and there're too many things on my mind that cannot be said out loud. Funny how people often experience writer's block but mine's the total opposite. Too many things that cannot be said, too many things that want to be said sadly don't get said because of lack of time and opportunity.

I'm still unsure about this though. Maybe I should just make my blogs private. As in, seriously private. Hmmm.

Sex and The City 2

Watched it yesterday night, free show some more ;D

And ohmiGOSH. I'm so Charlotte.

Or at least, I was.

I got so caught up with motherhood that everything else became second. Everyything.

Kudos to those to whom motherhood came so naturally and smoothly.

Do You Ever Wonder...?

Do you ever wonder why some of the people that you care so much for can change so much...

Do you ever wonder why some things that you're familiar with could one day suddenly become something so strange that you wondered if you imagined the familiarity and knowledge you have of it in the first place...

Do you ever wonder where time has gone when it seems like just yesterday when the first that stared back at you was of a young girl and now you can see lines emerging on the face that looks right back at you in the harsh light of the day....

Do you ever wonder how you got here..

And feel worried and even a little sad about what big surprises await you in the future that you have little control of.

Man vs. Woman

I've been with the gym for 3 months now, and have had about 14 sessions with that personal trainer of mine. So far I've lost four kilos, and my jeans are looser around the tummy.

Before you say "Hey that's great!" or "Wow, good on you!".. let me just highlight a typical day at the gym, and a typical day of training.

On a training day, I get to the gym at 10.40 a.m. I usually have breakfast at home, at 9 a.m. so that by 10.40, the food's gone down nicely. As soon as A sees me (A is my trainer), he'd say; "Fifteen minutes!" or "Twenty minutes".. which basically means that's how long I have to be on the cross-trainer or the elliptical machine (using a fat-burning program setting that leaves your legs feeling like jelly and your thighs burning like on fire). Then when I'm done with the "warm-up" part (yes that's just the warm-up), A would start me on a circuit training program, or sometimes we'd make our rounds and work the machines. If the day's training involves circuit training, a typical session would involve approximately 200 lunges, 100 squads, 100 tricep curls of some sort (don't ask me the names of the motions coz I don't know), 100 bicep curls/exercises of some sort, 100 shoulder-strengthening exercises, 100 lower back exercises, 50 upper back-strengthening exercises (usually we do the "seated rowing" for this with weighs up to 20 kilos), 100 pulley-exercises, 100 reverse crunches, intervals on the step-thingy (where you go up the step and kick or simply jog up and down the step in a hurry).. and many many other exercises that the forever pleasant-but-sadistic A could squeeze into our one-hour session. And A, being the hardworker (right!) that he is, would gladly extend the session to nearly 2 hrs if there's no client waiting after me. And after the session is over, it's back onto the elliptical or the cross-trainer again for another 20 to 30 minutes of fatburning cardio.

On a non-training day, I'd come in at about 11.00 a.m., do 20 minutes of fatburning cardio, and then spend about 40 minutes to an hour working the machines and doing lunges, squats, crunches and weights. Then it's back for another 20 minutes on the cardio machines before rushing off to shower and fetch Gibran from school at 1 p.m.

Every week I'll have two days of personal training, and three days of independent trainer-free workouts (either at the gym of at home on my own elliptical, and using H's gym equipment).

So let me get this straight...

For the amount of work that I put in every week, I really want to see a bigger number than FOUR KILOS.

Just look at the biggest loser and the kilos that fly every week!

Oh well. A girl can dream, right?!

Now lets talk about H.

He works out 5 to 6 days a week about one hour each time, using some workout programs he downloads from the Internet..

And he's already tight and taught from muscles all over in places one can think of. His abs only has a thin layer of fat left amidst those ketul-ketulan of stomach muscles, his arms do not have even an ounce of fat left, and his face looks thin to the point of being gaunt. Oh, and his body fat is more than 10% less than mine.

Blame it on the genetic differences and the biologies of man versus woman.

But really.

How unfair can life be?!

Changes in My Comfort Zone

Did you hear about Jusco One Utama closing down soon?

Dang. That shop's been there since OU first opened back when I was 16 years old. Perhaps 60% of everything that I have in the pantry (and in my closet) comes from there.

Did you know that Marks n Spencers' things are now more affordable than many departmental brands?

And yet the staff still act high and mighty as though you're buying a highly rare and prestigious brand. That's alright coz now that I'm older I just take my business elsewhere if a certain store's staff irritate me in any small way.

Did you know that I've owned Coach, Nine West and Liz Claiborne and I frankly feel as if they all wear out in the same ways that good quality handbags should?

Thus I don't idolise any particular brand out of those three, and to this day I don't understand why Coach OU staff act as if their noses are constantly hung in the air and would tag around smilingly when we go in wearing our LVs and Aigners, but would treat us like mites if we happened to be wearing our Liz or Charles and Keith bags. And to think Coach only costs so little when you buy em at US outlet stores anyway. So what's with these so-calledly prestigous shops layan-ing only datin-look-alikes?

I've always been a small-time-shopaholic and I don't like the way things are changing in my shops.

I hear Isetan's taking over Jusco in One Utama.

Oh no.

Give me good ol' Jusco any day.

There must be a point to this story...?

Take pity on me. I'm just a simple girl who loves my neighbourhood Jusco shop where the surroundings are as familiar as my old socks and the sour-faced staff don't bother me at all coz they don't judge me by the way I look on my bad-attire day.

The Mummy Group

After three years, I finally made some Mummy friends. Don't get me wrong, I do have friends who have babies, but we hardly ever see each other and lets face it, sometimes people just draw apart. The reality is that most of my closest friends aren't Mummies just yet. Not that I'm complaining coz they are always soo kind towards Gibran, but it's nice to have Mummy pals too :)

Being a SAHM is not all roses. Sometimes you feel quite alone.

It's just nice to know that there are others who feel the same way too.

We talk about cooking, cleaning, and all those boring stuff that takes up 24 hours of our time. We talk about hangnails and rough hands that handle abrasive detergents and are in need of some tender loving care. We talk about our kids and how they are so alike and so different. We talk about how fat our tummies are and how we never (ever) have time to ourselves even for 15 minutes of exercise a day. We talk about forgotten dreams and sacrificed ambitions that have been laid to rest, albeit perhaps restlessly. We talk about all sorts of junks that would bore a typical woman, just because we need some other house-wife soul to talk to.

Sometimes we sit down for a short chat after the kids go into class in the mornings. Then some of us would go home and finish the morning's chores. Sometimes we get together for breakfast and talk and talk, until the morning's chores were left undone and piled up just waiting at the doorstep when we reach home later. Sometimes we say lets forget those silly housechores and lets go shopping and spend some money just because we deserve it, dammit.

Some friendships you just hope they'll last.

Amen.

Side by Side

While at Mum's Place weeks ago (yes, another Mum's Place moment), we were held captivated by a rare moment in time..


KJ and RPK side by side, y'all!

Now all that's left for a girl to wish for is World Peace.

Hehhhhh..

The Biggest Loser Year

My friend and I are gung-ho on losing weight this year. Watching The Biggest Loser Asia is motivating indeed.

Want to hear my progress?

Lets see...

I've been exercising at least 4 to 5 times a week for 30 minutes each time (yes that's all the time I can spare in a day amidst the housework and unending errands of being on the job 24/7).. and..

I've lost ONE inch around the waist, and ONE inch around the bum.

Woopee.

Hmff.

The Silent Fart

While dining at Mum's Place a couple of weeks back, I saw this sign on display..


Hah!

Let me just say that I agree with the "nobody ever notices who did it" part but.. the feeling good part...

Maybe it should say "nobody ever notices who did it but it stinks anyway."

Or to be more precise, in my opinion.. "... it stinks and it feels good." Now, that's accurate!

The Honda

A couple of weeks back we finally got the Honda back from the workshop where it's been for the past 3 and a half months. Yesss. Can you believe that the wrecked Honda took 3 months to repair and all insurance papers cleared. Total repairs came up to more than 9k.

All I can say is I'm glad that the wreck was the Honda, and not the man who was inside it. Alhamdulillah, syukur.

Now the next issue to deal with is whether we'd be keeping the Honda or letting it go for a new car. It rattles when driven fast now :(


From left; Gibran's ride, H's ride and my ride. Together again ;p

A Good Day

I thought turning 31 would be as little fun as turning 30. For the sake of my very good and caring friends I'll say that the highlight of turning 30 was when they surprised me with a high fiber cheesecake for me to have all to myself because not one of them actually liked the high fiber cheesecake.. well, accept for me, of course. So yes, I appreciated the cheesecake :)

Yesterday night as I was feeling sorry for myself and thinking about the countless ambitions and dreams that I thought I'd lived through at the coming of age 31 (un-materialised dreams of course), the sweet man that I married came to sit with me even though he had lectures to give early in the morning. When he asked me what was bothering me most, and I said that I have so little to show for right now, he'd proceeded to list all the things that I've got to show for. Things that I thought he didn't even notice and things that I didn't even notice or think about. He sat with me well through the night as I cleaned, swept, mopped and folded laundry. And I thought.. yes, this'll be a bearable birthday after all.

Then the three women in my family (Mom, Sister and Aunty) took me out for lunch at TGIF and we had a ball. We shopped well into late evening, acting for once as if we were reallyy ladies of leisure. No chores, no errands, no worries. Just chatting and of course chasing after Gibran who got high on too much ice-cream.

The late evening tested me with Gibran who got cranky from tiredness and a nasty sugar crash. For the first time in a longg time I very nearly lose my temper (on a full-blown level!) and threatened him with a clothes hanger. So I thought.. phew. What a birthday this is. Birthdays are just simply crappy as you get older.

Then the girls (my girl pals, that is!) took me out for dinner and my parents volunteered to babysit Gibran. So for the first time in a longgg time since I became a "lady of leisure" (anyone want a severe beating if they dare say this to me again??), I had a girls' night out.

As the day was approaching its end, my long lost estranged best friend (who was my best friend for 24 years) called to with happy birthday and to tell me that she missed me and that there is still hope for our friendship.

And when I got home with a chatty but sleepy Gibran by my side, and H (who had to attend his company's annual dinner tonight) met us with big hugs and smooches to tell us he'd missed us at the dinner and he'd won a water heater in the lucky draw.. I started to wonder if birthdays aren't overrated after all.

Some birthdays can be good. Mine was today :) Thank you, God.

That's the great thing about having a birthday with no expectations whatsoever.

To Do List #1

This is to remind me of things that I deserve to do for myself while Gib's in school. Things that are long distance memories of the past.

1. Go waxing. Better still, go have all unwanted hair permanently removed. Hmm.. that's a thought.

2. Have a much needed-and-desired pedicure. To me nothing's more relaxing than this.

3. Sit back and just relax with a good book. Spiritual readings should be prioritised.

4. Go to the movies alone. A movie of my choice, with popcorns all to myself.

5. Have a proper haircut. The last haircut I had was done by... me. Yes.. shudder.

6. Convince H to take the morning off and go on a date. This coincidentally happened on Wednesday (H had to take MC due to throat infection) and we'd had a breakfast date for the first time in years. I'd even forgotten how fun dates are..! So.. this is a must-do-more.

We'll see how much I'd achieved in a month's time ;)

Mandi Garam

Yesterday night as H was about to grill some lamb for his supper..

H: "Garam habis, yang? Can you get me some salt?"
Me: "Oh yaa I finished it just now. Wait, I'll get a new pack from the pantry. Don't move around the kitchen floor! I just mopped it!"

Salt in hand...

Me: "Here, catch, baby!"
H: "No don't throw!! It might hit the fan and nanti the garam might burst and there'll be garam all over!"
Me: "Huahauahauuaaaa... yeah right! I'm not that bad, you know!"

Guess what happened next?

No, you don't get any prizes for a correct guess.

Suffice to say, our kitchen looked like it snowed salt and today the floors look and feel like the floors of a beach-side resort; smudgy and sticky.

I have to say, my beloved is a gem. He didn't even scold or cuss at me. He stood there, bathed in salt, and laughed himself silly. Then he proceeded to clean the kitchen with no complains.

I got me a gem indeed.


Picture taken one day after my second spinal surgery, when H brought Gib visiting at the hospital ward (May 2008).

New Year's Resolutions

1. To prioritise my little family above all others. Basically, to stop caring so much about what everybody else thinks and do what is best for my family.

2. To be a better wife and mother. Less temperamental and moody about things. InsyaAllah. Help me God!

3. To think of things in small steps, rather than always imagining the big picture and then lose my top because the big picture always always seems like it's just too damn much to handle. Phew. Ok... step one.... think now. Do what's needed to be done now. Not what needs to be done in 30 minutes.. an hour... two... a day... you get the idea.

4. To set aside a minimum of 30 minutes a day to pure spiritual devotion. With the maid gone and housework always piling up, I've neglected my readings (i.e. the Quran and religious readings).. this is seriously frustrating because I know this should be made a priority. So.. lets start with small steps again. Thirty minutes a day for starters. InsyaAllah.

There. That's it for now. Small steps.. remember?