Ramblings of Nothings

Happiness. Or Something Like It.

2011-12-02T23:19:00.003+08:00

Nope, no longer the hormonal pregnant lady now, Alhamdulillah :)

I'm now a proud mum of two beautiful boys.

They're asleep now, so.. So should I. Will write more soon.

Fish Mongers

2011-07-24T17:54:00.002+08:00

Also known as SELFISH people!

Yesterday night at Uptown Kota D'sara a BMW parked right beside my car, blocking any access for me to get out of my parking spot and leave the place. I spent 30 minutes honking away like a maniac (with my blood at boiling point of course) until my stupid Alza honk stopped working. FYI if you buy a Perodua car next time be prepared lah for small faults here and there. The sad reality is that they still can't compete with the resilience of Japanese cars.

Anyway.

After numerous announcements by the deejay at the karaoke counter at Uptown, an old man came waddling down the stairs, rushed forward towards the BMW (KBS 66, I will remember your plate number for a long time), gave an apologetic wave and drove the car out.

The only thing that stopped me from getting out of the car and screaming obscenities to him was the fact that he was grandpa-like. There is no way I would shout at an old, white-haired man in this lifetime, especially in front of Gibran (who was already sleepy as he|| and very upset with all the grumbling/complaining his Mummy was doing).

So, too late, old man. Apologetic wave or not, you ruined our night with your uncaring, selfish attitude. Since you were planning to go minum-minum with your other datuk friends, you should've taken the effort to find a proper parking place instead of blocking a tired young family.

I don't get our society. I really don't.

Say what you want lah. I. DON'T. CARE.

Most Malaysians have an attitude problem.

First and foremost, this double-parking thingy would not be a common happening if developers have enough parking slots for people who frequent retail areas. For this to happen rules have to be in place. It starts with the people governing developments and giving out permits and such. In Melbourne for every square feet of retail area, there has to be at least a certain set amount of parking spaces allocated for customers. So parking at retail areas are ample. Plus the wrongdoers get fined every single time. So noone dares to be a wrongdoer. That's effective enforcement. Not that stupid tow truck coming to haul double-parked cars away every once in a blue moon to prove a point. What's the point? Most days of the year noone would feel afraid to double-park anyway here in Malaysia anyway.

And right into the society our attitude problems continue. Ineffective enforcement means freedom to do as you like and not get caught. And wow are we Malaysians gutsy or what. We'd double park everywhere we feel like.

The mosque in DU is packed with double-parkers on Fridays. Once a guard from our area told an elderly guy (nicely, mind you) to please, do not park in front of the gates of a resident. The guy slammed the door, beeped beeped his big-a$$ car alarm, and shouted at the guard; "AKU NAK PEGI SEMBAHYANG LAH! TAU TAK SEMBAHYANG TU APA?"...

Wow we Malaysians are never wrong. Off you go to pray to God after a nice shout you give to a poor guard just doing his job. I'm sure the gates of heavens would be glad to open for you.

I sound bitter. Do I? Yes I do.

Selfish people get to me. They make me pray for bad things to happen to them. And that ain't good for my faith and soul.

And in this country there's nothing I can even do about it.

All I can do is pray for faith and strength to handle these selfish people in a better way next time. I won't honk till my silly local car's honk gets spoiled. That'll only cost me a useless amount of money to replace and the next grandpa that does that won't even be affected by it. I won't nag and grumble till my five-year old intan payung gets a drift of the negative karma and has difficulties falling asleep. That'll only affect the mind of the darling boy that he is.

I will only zikir. And pray. And zikir some more. And hope for justice in karma.

Of Memories Changing With Time

2011-06-24T01:06:00.005+08:00

Yesterday Ninie would've turned 31. It hurts a little less thinking about her now, although most of the time I don't want it to, because it is good to think of mortality and never take it for granted.

For her family though, I'm sure the pain is no less than it was the first day she was gone.

When I think about her, I think about the crazy times we had as teenagers, as newly wed young girls living in a foreign land; learning to cook, learning to care and be independent with our husbands, learning to be far from home, always talking about growing old and what'll we do in our future. How many kids we'd have, where we'd live and where we'd retire. Surely we'd still be friends then.

I think of her with fondness, feeling warm inside despite the usual sadness. The sadness has somehow changed into something different. It's changed into an appreciation for life, gratitude for the chance to continue learning and living, and the need to continuously better myself.

Dear friend, you will always be in my thoughts and I will pray for you, just as the Prophet (PBUH) had advised us to pray for our loved ones who are already in the next realm. In spirit, I wish I could send my hugs and kisses to you on this day that is your birthday. Another Al-Fatihah is valid on this day when the memory of you touches me again and demands changes in my life as always.

Suspenseful Races

2011-03-26T13:36:00.002+08:00

I haven't gone to the gym or worked out (at all!) for nearly two months now. The nausea and exhaustion has been barely bearable (and I've yet to lose a battle to vomiting, not about to lose one now! Haha!), so I've been resting a lot at home. This time around is definitely somewhat worse than the first time. Very unexpected.

And now I've got two (or is it three....??) races in the next two months to complete.. and I'm a nervous wreck! Not training is the worse thing a runner can do to him/herself!

So this Monday I'm dragging myself out of bed, nausea or not. Off to the kiara hills again for training I go.

Hope baby'll cope well in there with the training and all.

The 32nd

2011-02-05T13:18:00.002+08:00

I turn 32 today. This year I got a handful of prezzies that are just too good to talk about. So we'll talk about em some other day :) soon.

H asked how I felt turning 32. And he asked me if I remembered those days when we were teenagers and thought that turning 30 would be a nightmare. What a number. So ancient!

Truth is I feel good. Alhamdulillah, lots of good things happening this year, InsyaAllah.

There's also the fact that about a month ago I was pondering about how depressing it is to be turning 33... and then suddenly I realised I was only turning 32! Gosh, a year's bonus!!! It feels good to be younger than you think you are! Hahahahaaa!!

So yeah. I turn 32 today. Thanks Mak for being there for me all these 32 years. Yes Apak forgot my birthday again this year, but that's nothing new so I'm not offended ;) He'll give me something good when he finally realises he's forgetten it. Heheh. Thanks H for being a fantastic friend to me for the past 14 years. You're a solid rock in my life. Thanks Gibran for the morning kisses you shower upon me these days, more so since you realised I've been unwell lately. You're growing up to be such a sweet boy, more than I could ever wish for. Thanks Kaklong for being my one and only sister, a pain-in-the-a$$ but I cannot imagine my life without you nonetheless. Thanks to all my family and friends for the wishes and the comfort you always provide. For that I am forever indebted.

Last but not least, thank Allah for the wonderful 32 years. You give me so much to be thankful about even amidst all the bad, the good always (always) outweigh it all. Not everyone can say this, so I am indeed truly blessed.

The Year Pushing Off..

2011-01-13T18:14:00.004+08:00

...well!

Got me a job :) I started immediately.

Rezeki jatuh ke riba like I cannot believe.

And today I dropped Gibran off at the school gate, and in he went happily with a teacher's assistant towards his classroom. No muss no fuss.

Oh my. Such good things all at once. How can I thank Thee...?!

Syukur Alhamdulillah!

I hope it'll all go well :)

The Year 2011

2011-01-09T23:23:00.000+08:00

This year, I will..

.. continue going to the gym, amidst all the negative and insensitive comments I still get from friends and family about actually lovin' gym.

.. continue running because no one, I mean no one, should take for granted the blessing that God gives us by giving us these lovely feet to walk and run with. There are people in this world who wish they can stand, much less walk or run. So thank You, Allah.

.. try to not be afraid of changes. Because nothing is permanent except changes.

.. focus on the positive elements from my surroundings and filter the negative ones that can drag me down. Because foolish is she who expects others to change. Thus I must change myself and how I see things.

.. contribute more to our household income and (goes without saying) the monthly expenditures.

.. not be afraid to start teaching Gibran to read. I will persevere and be brave or even fierce when needed.

.. love this life that I am in. I will count my blessings everyday. I will write down one good thing that happened that day (everyday!) so that I'll always remind myself to stay optimistic.

.. last but not least, I will remind myself of this everyday: it is never too late to be what you might've been.

So this year, I will have faith and be happy. For my boys deserve happiness. Because they make me happy!

The Beginning of Spinning

2010-12-03T00:39:00.003+08:00

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

2010-11-28T14:21:00.003+08:00

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

2010-11-23T00:36:00.003+08:00

.. 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

2010-11-09T19:23:00.005+08:00

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

2010-11-08T17:14:00.004+08:00

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

2010-10-11T03:47:00.000+08:00

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

2010-10-11T03:30:00.000+08:00

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

2010-10-10T13:19:00.000+08:00

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

2010-10-05T22:09:00.000+08:00

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!

2010-09-30T02:52:00.000+08:00

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

2010-09-23T03:03:00.000+08:00

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

2010-09-04T02:06:00.000+08:00

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

2010-08-25T02:05:00.000+08:00

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.

2010-08-12T01:42:00.000+08:00

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.

2010-08-11T01:03:00.000+08:00

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

2010-08-02T17:59:00.000+08:00

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..

2010-07-31T21:21:00.000+08:00

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!

2010-07-25T12:44:00.000+08:00

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

2010-07-21T02:28:00.000+08:00

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

2010-07-16T02:21:00.000+08:00

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

2010-07-15T00:03:00.000+08:00

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

2010-07-12T19:33:00.000+08:00

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

2010-07-04T18:48:00.000+08:00

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

2010-07-02T02:36:00.000+08:00

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

2010-06-28T02:17:00.000+08:00

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

2010-06-23T17:15:00.001+08:00

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

2010-06-21T02:29:00.000+08:00

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

2010-06-20T02:25:00.000+08:00

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...?

2010-05-31T01:15:00.001+08:00

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

2010-05-25T00:50:00.000+08:00

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

2010-05-20T17:38:00.000+08:00

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

2010-04-05T00:55:00.000+08:00

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

2010-03-13T00:29:00.000+08:00

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

2010-03-05T01:14:00.000+08:00

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

2010-02-28T11:29:00.000+08:00

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

2010-02-20T23:43:00.000+08:00

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

2010-02-06T02:55:00.000+08:00

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

2010-01-22T02:27:00.000+08:00

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

2010-01-06T17:44:00.000+08:00

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

2010-01-02T13:08:00.000+08:00

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?

The Ambition that Sleeps

2009-12-30T01:09:00.000+08:00

I found my favourite lecturer on FB after years of wondering if he was still alive. He was the person who motivated me to specialise in marketing. With his help, we'd concocted many out-of-this-world-creative-and-outrageous marketing plans. With his help, I'd had the passion and drive to graduate within the top ten percent of the class.

He told me I must check my FB more often (amongst many other things that he was right about). He also told me that he couldn't believe that I was a full-time homemaker. He'd pictured me as a successful career woman who'd be at the top of my game. Then he reminded me of all the talents that I have and how I shouldn't waste it all.

It's always like a sharp stab in the stomach (to put it mildly) everytime someone reminds me of things like that.

So much had happened since those undergrad years. I'd had two life-changing spinal surgeries. One of my oldest friends had passed on shockingly in a car accident. I'd gotten married and had a kid. Life's mortality had come brushingly close many, many times.

So sadly I am no longer the person he once knew.

I met Meen (a classmate of mine during undergrad) a few weeks ago at Kiara Park with her hub and two kids. We competed neck-to-neck for good grades. We were so much the same. Driven, motivated, focused. She'd graduated top ten percent of the class too. And she's also a full-time homemaker now.

I remember the expression on her face when I'd asked her where she was working. It's the expression that comes to my face everytime I am asked the same question. Guilt. Confusion. Defensiveness. Frustration... and Disappointment.

She'd said.. "Ah... hmm.. I'm not working anymore. Ermm, at the moment, that is."

Her husband (who was also a classmate of ours, but not so crazily competitive as we were) had firmly stepped in and stated; "She works. She works 24/7. She works at home."

Once in a while when the last dish of the day was done and the sink's been scrubbed .. and the ironing's stacked up, ready to be brought upstairs.. and the floor's been swept and mopped clean.. and I'm sitting there in the kitchen while the rest of the world is sleeping, while having a drink of water before going up to bed.. I stare out at the empty streets and yearn for mornings filled with coffee, endless emails in my inbox, meetings lined up for the day and deadlines to meet everyday on end.

Even despite all the self-pep talks I give myself everyday, I still yearn for it. What hold it has on me, I don't know. Ambition is a funny thing. It drives you, frustrates you. It can even tear you apart inside.

But when I crawl into bed with aching muscles and I smell those curls on that curly-top boy right next to me, and then I realised that if I didn't do this.. who'd take care of him...? And a different kind of shame and guilt would come to me.

Meen and I would do ourselves good if we could find a way to put those ambitions on hold for now. May this choice be the right choice. InsyaAllah.

Shocking Moments With The Kids

2009-12-02T02:16:00.000+08:00

When H tried to snap a picture of Sarah and Nabeel playing PSP side by side, Sarah suddenly realised that she was being eternalised in her all-sloppy-glory (muka belum mandi)..

Sarah: "Don't!!!"
H: "What? Noone's gonna look at this picture."
Sarah: "Whatever Major Looser!" (while making the W-M-L signs with her fingers)

Reminds me of those days when Clueless was the in-movie back when we were teens and we'd end all of our sentences with "Whateverrr...." while making that W-finger-sign. Now we kena in return. Pfft!

When looking at a picture of a girl hugging a girl in the newspaper (not an ad picture), Sarah suddenly asked..

Sarah: "Hey Mummy, diorang ni lesbians eh?"
Me: "Whaaa....?? Where on earth did you get that idea?"
Sarah: "Lesbians are girls who like to touch each other, you know."
Me: "Yeah I know, but in this case I don't think it's a lesbian case. Besides, you do know lesbianism is Haram, right?" (can you see that I got speechless?)
Sarah: "Of course la Haram. But that doesn't seem to stop people from being lesbians, kan?"
Me: *utterly speechless*

When talking to Shazwan, I told him..

Me: "Shazwan, I think your suara dah pecah." (when a boy's voice breaks and matures/deepens)
Shazwan: "Ye ke, Mummy? But you tau tak I tak pernah mimpi or anything like that. So that means I'm not baligh yet, right?" (matured boys have those dreams, that's what he was referring to!)
Me: *speechless once again*

What on earth am I gonna do when the time to deal with a pre-teen or teenage Gibran comes???

I am so ill-equipt!

Too Jaded for Love

2009-11-22T02:12:00.000+08:00

I have a bunch of never-been-watched DVDs, so today H and I thought we'd watch one while Gib sat captivated by Ultraman Nebius in front of my laptop. We chose "Twilight" simply because I hate watching fangsy shows at night and we've had that DVD for ages.

I first saw Bit (my friend's daughter in Australia) reading the book a few years back in Melbourne and she raved about how cool Stephenie Meyer's books were. Books in Australia weren't actually cheap, and the local Stonnington Library which I used to go to was always out of it. Too much demand for it. Pfft. So, no, I never actually read the book. Although after today.... I wish I did.

With Gibran watching Ultraman at full volume on the laptop while making Karate moves and rolling around pretending to fight monsters.. it was kinda hard to focus on our show. Then my Dad came over and insisted to take us out for dinner, and so we put the show on hold until wayyyy after dinner, when Dad had left and Gib was once again rolling around captivated by his Ultraman show. So a two-hour movie took us a whole day to finish. Hehhh.

The worse part was the fact we had to put on the subtitles because we couldn't hear most of the dialogues due to the jabbering japanese dialogue emitting from the laptop speakers. Everytime any sort of music came on, the subtitle would describe them as... "DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING".... "EERY MUSIC PLAYING".... "TENSION MUSIC PLAYING"..... which never failed to crack H and me up in some sort of weird way.

So there we were, watching a so-calledly romantic movie while expelling loud cracked-up laughters every so often.

And whenever the two main characters (the vampire fella and the girl-goo-goo-gaa-gaa-over-him) got into a romantic mood, we'd both groan over how long they were taking to get down to their smoochy-woochies. Soooo lah overly dramatic if you asked me. And it didn't help that H started making his lame dirty jokes for sheer entertainment's sake. And then there's that nearly-three-year-old fella who kept shouting at me; "Mummy!! Tengok ni Ultraman buat macam ni tauuuuuuuu!!"

So.... NO. I wasn't very impressed with "Twilight" simply because it wasn't very easy to appreciate the concept of love that one could feel at the age of 17 (because when you're 30-plus and you're married and been through a lot of high and lows together, the concept of being high on love when you're merely 17 is just so.... bleahhh...), and simply because it wasn't easy to feel any sense of romance with your toddler rolling around doing karate chops on carpets and sofas, and simply because..

Just maybe as we get older, we're just too jaded for fictional love stories.

Don't get me wrong. Our love story turned out just fine, thank you ;)

But seriously. I don't think you'll catch us watching another love story for our leisurely weekend watch anytime soon. It's thrillers and sci-fi all the way from here baby...

If I feel like some lovey story, I'll stick to books.

Emotions of Hajj

2009-11-20T02:07:00.001+08:00

Last Sunday night, my Aunty Sham (Mom's only sister) left for Haji. It was a whirlwind week for all of us, helping her prepare for Hajj, plus Sister also had a li'l get-together for Nabeel's birthday on Saturday.

Sunday came and everyone gathered at our humble home in DU. All of Mom's siblings and half of my cousins were there. My parents' maid, Bibik M cooked a whole lot of meehoon and stayed the day at our place to help me out with the serving and clean-up. For the most, we sat and chatted happily about the coming of Hajj for Aunty Sham.

Maghrib came, and the moment came for us to leave for Tabung Haji to send Aunty off. One of Mom's cousins said a little do'a and it dawned on me what a precious thing this is. This opportunity, this golden golden golden opportunity given by God for us to be able to go to Hajj.

As family members sniffed happily and nostalgically waved us off, I know it was a sight that I would never forget. It is wonderful when going-on-Hajj brings us together. I was 9 years old when my parents left for Hajj, and I never forgot the feelings I felt when we waved them off.

How can I ever explain it? Hajj is indeed beyond words. It is an overwhelmingly weird mixture of happiness and sadness that you feel as you watch your loved ones go on their religious journey. This journey where the sole purpose is to serve God. Indeed our whole lives should be lived for the sole purpose to serve God, but it is on Hajj (and Umrah) that this is so very magnified.

When your loved ones go on Hajj, you're faced with this feeling of complete surrender. Of berserah and tawakkal. Because you're faced with the possibility of not seeing your loved ones alive again. In the old days, people go on Hajj by sea, and the travel was hard and many do not survive the journey. In the holy land of Makkah, anything can happen, and indeed you must face the reality that you cannot do anything to protect your loved ones except through prayers and tawakkal.

The wait at Tabung Haji was as I remember as a child. Long and tiring. The place was crowded, full of tired and irritable people. Emotional men and women and children gathering to send their loved ones off on their fateful journeys of the Hajj.

And as I hugged Aunty goodbye and the Talbiyah recordings came on, I swear my heart felt so full and emotional that it got really hard to keep all my insides from falling out (I can't describe this any other way). So overwhelmed that I prayed hard right there and then for God to please let my time for Hajj come too one day. Insyaallah.

Waiting for the day when I too would be given the chance to join the throngs of people calling out the Talbiyah.

"Here I am at Your service O Allah, here I am. Here I am at Your service and You have no partners. You alone are All Praise and All Bounty, and You alone are The Sovereignty. You have no partners."

* Picture is of Makkah as I remember as a 7 year-old child.

On "Housewives"

2009-11-13T21:28:00.000+08:00

"Housework is what a woman does that nobody notices unless she hasn't done it."

Ain't that true?

H isn't the typical sort of man who never helps with the housechores. He vacuums, he cleans, he washes (everything including Gib's bum bum), and his latest obsession is hunting for ants all over the house. I wouldn't know what I'd do without him.

But I still get bothered sometimes by that age-old question. That li'l question that must've crossed any woman's mind at some point of time. Perhaps for some, the question would never be said, and would be thought of in different ways. But for me it's really simple.

Is this really worth it?

A woman is called a "housewife", which always sounds (to me at least) like she does nothing but sits, at home. Sort of like a house cat.. or a house dog. Any kind of house pet. And you know what housepets do. Imagine a "housecat". A housecat eats, lazes, plays, poos and pees in the house. A housecat seldom roams outside. So, really, it makes you wonder. Who on earth came up with the term "housewife" lah..?

You know why I can't help but ask myself that question up there sometimes..?

Coz you know you run the house (ok ok so in this paragraph the word "you" means "me" lah okayyy). Without you, without your hands, your efforts, and your obsession with organising and managing the house.. you know the house'll fall apart. Sure, people will survive, life will go on. After all, noone is indispensable. But as the days go by and you do ALL the little things that needs to be done in the house, you start to wonder if anyone notices all these things you do. Your hands get sore and your back starts aching. And then ultimately you'll definitely start wondering if the pains and efforts are all worth it because.. does anyone even notice all these things you're doing..?

So little do people know.. what a "housewife" really wishes for is appreciation. Appreciation and love and respect for her needs sometimes. Maybe once in a while the housewife could go out with the girls and have a fun little shopping trip. Or maybe have that much needed pedicure. Or even 20 minutes all to herself to work out and feel good about herself and her body. That'd be nice.

It's different for men. However helpful the men are, it'll always be different. The men get to go to work. The men get paid to go to work. The men can have lunches with colleagues and friends. The men get personal time to work out or fun activities like recreational sports.

It might sound so petty and whiny, but I never really thought about this until I became a full-fledged, maid-less housewife myself. And no, sorry ladies.. you won't totally get this if you've got a maid at hand to help you out. My Mom, for instance, always had help at hand. It's a different kind of game plan if you are the sole person responsible for your home, and everyone in it, and all of their individual needs. For the first time in my life, I'm seeing things from the perspectives of a honest-to-goodness-fulltime-housewife.

I somehow stumbled into this piece of writing as I was surfing the net. And it made me wonder why people often give so little thought to needs of a fulltime "housewife". I'll come to the conclusion now. Below is the thing that I need to say. This is the thing that needs to be said because I finally understand what being a "housewife" is all about. And it needs to be said because these people get so little credit. I never gave them much thought before this as well. So now that I've been forced to join their ranks, I have to say this. As cheesy as it sounds.

Being a "Housewife" is definitely a JOB.

You don't get paid. You often don't even get noticed. You'd hardly ever get promoted. In fact sometimes you'd get demoted. There're no KPIs to fulfill. But IT'S A JOB. No holidays. No breaks. Just an ongoing, unstopping, demanding sort of JOB.

And I absolutely salute you ladies out there who proudly call yourself "Housewives". Those who've gone through this, those who are going through it as we speak, and especially those who do it from the sincerest depths of their hearts.

People can think and say whatever they want when they read this. But this person's point of view pertaining "Housewives" would never again be askewed.

Giving in to Feel-Good-Cravings

2009-11-12T02:47:00.000+08:00

As I finished hanging the laundry (yes I do my washing at all hours of the day), I had a sudden craving for something salty. Salty and crunchy and utterly fattening. It's that time of the month again when you can see Aunt Flo waving from around the corner, shrieking; "Yoohoooo! I'm coming there!".. and so you just suddenly feel like eating the weirdest things at the weirdest hours of the day (or night).

So I went into the pantry (ooh how I love our pantry) and started rummaging through the shelves. I mentally clicked my heels together in merriment the minute I unearthed the Super Ring that H bought for me from our new-crazy-roti-man (the fella's a new roti-man who follows after his predecessor's need to keep honking throughout the neighbourhood), and settled down in front of the forever-cheesy Crossing Jordan (cheesy Super Ring for a cheesy show.. good eh?).

I'm seriously not a dainty eater. You wouldn't catch me eating my pizzas with forks and knifes. Or KFC and Nando's with cuttleries. When H and I started dating, he was surprised at how I was when I ate. Tak heran at all about impressing the man sitting in front of me. Hehhh. And don't get me started on how fast I've trained myself to eat ever since we've had Gibran. I can finish a whole plate of food in under 5 minutes, I kid you not. So.. anyway, there I was happily stuffing my mouth full of Super Ring and savouring its artificial tastes in every corner of my mouth when the Biggest Loser ads started coming on.

Gahhh. Talk about spoilt sports. Kacauuuuuu betol. Ruin the good feeling that I was feeling. Sheesh.

Grasping and struggling to get out of my very comfortable vegging-out position on the couch to reach over the remote.. I quickly changed to Asian Food Channel.

Ooooh. Nigella making prawn fritters. Or was it some sort of prawn cakes. Who cares??? I'm not a hugee fan of Nigella's cooking techniques, but I like her just fine. All I know was that the good feeling was coming back real fast. Now just look at that Nigella stuffing her face with that oily and yummy-looking fried prawns. And you gotta admire that woman for looking so darn beautiful although it's obvious that those clothes are definitely not anywhere close to a size 10. Heyy.. I can cook that prawn thingy too tomorrow. Yeah why not? Definitely feeling good now.

Crossing Jordan might be starting again. Go back to Hallmark channel. Hurry hurry. You might miss the ending.

And there's that blasted Biggest Loser ad again!!!!!

Change change change the channel!

And there's Nigella doing her routine nightly raid of her refrigerator, dipping her nachos into some sort of really fattening-looking dip (woah... cheesy.. just like these Super Rings..)... And she scoops right in and took the whole bowl out for her to feast on.

Now that's what I call Feel Good TV.

*Broad smile* Burp..

Imagining The Morbid

2009-11-10T19:12:00.000+08:00

I'm morbid. I'm the "harbinger of doom" whenever the subject of death comes up, as dubbed by a close friend of ours. I can't help it. Growing up, death was on my mind a lot. The ill treatments I got in school due to my ugly spinal braces (lets not go into that in detail) made me think that there must be a better place than this place we're in right now. As time went by and life got better, I often forgot death. Then Ninie passed away, and death is never really far away from my mind since then. But in a morbid sort of way, I wish I could treat death as a closer friend. For the truth is.. death is one thing in life that all of us can never avoid.

On days when the boys are singing their joyful songs and do something silly that makes me laugh, or when H hugs and kisses me and I feel like a true beautiful queen, and when I feel Gibran's body warm against mine while I sniff his boyish scent at bedtime.. death sometimes seems like it can never touch us.

Then H got into the accident last week and brings Ninie into my mind again. The split second of shock she must've felt at that last moment of awakeness, before her head slammed into the wheel and shattered everything that was Ninie, sending her deep into a comma. Then she left her mortal self behind for us to weep over. Thousands of times I often wondered, and still do; what on earth was it like for her at that split second... when the car slammed into the lorry.. her last moments of living. The truth is I cannot vividly imagine what she must've gone through. Because the scenes I imagine are so vividly frightening. Full of pain. So hideous.

Is death really all that? I don't know. Wallahualam.

All I know is that I cannot say how syukur I am that H didn't experience that during that split second when his car was hit, and he went into that skid, and when the car banged into the tree and broke the tree into half.

Ultimately noone can cheat death.

But for now, Allah, thank You for H's life. For our lives.

Studying With Kids Around

2009-10-30T01:40:00.000+08:00

I really respect women who're still studying (undergrad.. postgrad.. whatever) after they've had kids. I am so lousy at studying around kids. Honestly. I thank my lucky stars that I finished my masters before we had Gibran.

Today we were supposed to have an Arabic Exam for Level One. Hyuk hyukk.. yupp.. still in level one lah! So all of yesterday and today, I spent at my parents' house. After baths and breakfasts, Gib and I drove to KD two days in a row. While Gib played with his cousins, I studied.

Don't even get me started on the distractions and disturbances. Every other minute they'd be fighting or crying or demanding for something. Pffftt. But I managed to close one eye and just let the boys be boys. They climbed, they shrieked, they yelled, fought, wrestled, laughed, cried. Some blood was spilled every once in a while (Nabeel got kicked in the mouth by Shamel, Shamel got scratched on the face by Nabeel, Gib kicked Nabeel in the stomach... you get the idea).. and yet I managed to finish studying by late evening today. Woot woot, ladies, let me angkat bakul and feel pleased with myself la huhhh...

The exam was supposed to start at 8.30. At 7 p.m. our Ustaz called to say he was still stuck in UIA Gombak. So in the end, the exam has been postponed to Monday.

Talk about bad timing. Gahhhh.

Bad enough that the otak is already semi-karat. Bad enough that Gib sticks to me like a leech whenever we're in our own home so the only way I can study is if I bring him to see his cousins. Bad enough that the boys play in insane ways, enough to drive a sane Mum crazy (good thing I ain't that sane...??). The worst thing is... I gotta go through this again next week when I revise through the lessons again..!!!

Now folks, you better have some damn good respect for those ladies who did it all with their kids in tow.

On a Rainy Evening

2009-10-25T17:13:00.000+08:00

I often nap with Gib when he naps in the evenings nowadays. Especially since the runaway maid thingy happened, evenings are our resting time. But thanks to Kanna's Curry House's 3 layer tea, I find myself wide awake while laying in bed resting the good ol' spine.

On rainy evenings like this my thoughts go back to my postgraduate friends who are now in different parts of the world. Friends that used to share and count on each other when living in a foreign land. Friends who you think you'd never lose touch with but eventually do. Now I sit here wondering where they are and what they do and whether every one of them is living the dream(s) that we used to dream of.

And that got me thinking of my dreams. How life works in mysterious ways and sometimes what you dream and plan to do never happens quite the way you wish it would.

Who'd thought that I'd be here today raising a kid and handling the house on my own? Five years ago I'd pictured me as a manager in some big company for sure. And yes I was damn sure that that picture would've happened if I'd set my mind to it and if I'd stick to the path that I'd chosen.

But fate is funny that way. The manager part did happen albeit fleetingly. Then the paths twisted and before I knew it, I'd followed this particular curve and end up here.

I was doing ironing while watching "Crossing Jordan" a few nights ago and thinking of Ria, Maddy, Nat, Miho, Kat, Susan, Eileen.. my partners in crime, then aspiring marketing-managers just like I was. Last I heard, Ria became a successful market researcher and then finally got married in her late 30s. Last I heard, Maddy was a manager with Microsoft Indonesia. Last I heard, Miho finally got the sponsorship she needed from Honda Australia. Last I heard, Nat was with a major advertising company in Thailand and doing wonders for the accounts she handled. Last I heard, Eileen got hitched and was promoted twice in one year in Hewlard Packard. Last I heard, Kat got a sought after job with Thai Air. Last I heard, Susan finally got promoted to senior management level that she so aimed for.

Then one by one, everyone disappeared from the big picture.

Life's funny that way. You can care for one another so much but life has a way of taking you away from your past. Sometimes (if you're lucky or unlucky) the past catches up with you. But sometimes, the past chooses to stay where it is; in the past.

On a rainy evening such as this, I hope they're all healthy, happy and I hope they know somehow that they're still in this small corner of my thoughts and my affection for them will never cease.

2009-10-12T09:10:00.000+08:00

So what's my excuse for not writing?

There're plenty of them, I assure you.

First there was Ramadhan. Although not the easiest of Ramadhans, it was a wonderful, wonderful Ramadhan. Alhamdulillah.

Then there was the Raya celebration. This Raya we managed to jalan-jalan A LOT. Gibran is a wonderful toddler who handles himself well. Boleh bawak kiri, boleh bawak kanan. So we managed to visit quite a number of relatives. It was good.

Now, there's this little issue of the runaway maid. Hooboy. While my heart sings in joy over the fact that I do not have to constantly doa and zikir for patience in handling a hopeless case of a maid, my body is achy with all the work to be done around the house. Thankfully today the cleaning lady is here, relieving me off many chores. And leaving me with time to blog. Nyehhh ;)

The maid was a test I fear I failed, or with God's rahmat, very nearly failed while barely scraping through. Never have I had a more trying time trying to keep my patience and goodwill. Perhaps this is the way my prayers were answered. I prayed to be strong to go through what time was left with the maid in our home, and even to be relieved off the problem. And that's been done for me.

Who'd have thought that not having a maid can be so spiritually relaxing? Alhamdulillah, Subhanallah!

Now on to the next day.

As Ramadhan Ends

2009-09-19T06:16:00.000+08:00

It has been a wonderful, trying but memorable Ramadhan. I'd looked forward to this month for months, and was tested by being given two "holidays" (Aunt Flo came for her visits) in one month! Never had this happened before. Wallahualam. God knows best.

Today during Sahur, I was chatting to H and Aunt (who'd spent the night at our house) about teenage years. So as this wonderful month comes to an end.. memories are coming at me in a flood. Only God knows why.

Sneaking to try out smoking for the first time in the bilik wudhu' at school, with dear friend Man on the lookout (in case teachers came along) for us girls who were in the bilik wudhu' (yes I was no angel). We got caught anyway and I got away with the crime only because of academic reputation and the special priviledges that came along with people with such a fortunate gift. Man is now residing in Dublin with his wife and son, and at times I miss his friendship so much that my eyes would swell and water.

Sneaking to have a meal at Paradise Cafe in One Utama during those days that we couldn't fast (the Aunt-Flo-Days), our dear friends who worked behind the counter sneaking us dish after dish while we sat huddled in a corner away from prying eyes. Said friends are all over the world now, at various top jobs and facing different personal trivials. Some married, some single, some even divorced. Partners in crime who've all gone separate ways.

Come this Raya, I wish we could turn back time for just one minute. Just one minute so that I could tell them all how much they'd meant to me at certain points of my life, and to thank them for all they'd done, and to plead for their forgiveness for all that I'd done wrong.

I wish this often, especially at this time of the year.

We cannot turn back time though I wish we could. But the next best thing that I can do is to try to appreciate the NOW more. And to tell those around me right now, how much they mean to me and how I am sorry for all the wrongs I've done.

To those special old friends.. my heart is with you, as it always is especially so at this time of the year. Though you may not even know it. May Allah lead us away from wrongs and gather us again together in Jannah one day. Where all the jaded-ness of time will fade away and I can once again tell you how much you've meant to me. InsyaAllah.

And to those of you reading this, Selamat Hari Raya and please forgive me for all my wrongdoings. In many ways, you've touched my life as well in special ways. Thank you :)

What The Mind Needs

2009-08-29T11:53:00.000+08:00

H was up late writing out the course outline of a new subject module he is handling next semester. Since it was advertising-related, he asked for some advise from the so-called-marketing-specialist in the house. Yours truly lah, who else. Kah kah kah.

Then yours truly realised that.... ohmigosh!...

OTAK KARAT ALREADY!!

I thought I was doing a good job (obviously so perasan and angkat bakul!) of keeping the mind sharp. I make sure I read a lot (any subject will do, but in the past year it's been heavy on the religious and spiritual side, Alhamdulillah), I have Arabic classes twice a week and make sure that I revise whenever I can and I undertake personal projects that are of significance to myself and my family (e.g. create books for Gibran, various notebooks for myself, sewing, cooking, trying new things..). All for the sake of keeping the mind and soul sharp. But obviously it hasn't been good enough!

So there I was, trying to help H out with his subject module.. and slowly I felt that part of my brain waking up once again. After that I did my night-time readings and Arabic revision, and found it somewhat easier than usual.

Which made me wonder if I should go back to part-time work again. Just to get rid of that KARAT-ness from the mind and soul.

Then there is that small part of me that is afraid that work would consume me again (I am a person of extremes.. I kid you not. I do everything too obsessively..) and leave me with little time for the spiritual side of life.

Some people can do it all. I have come to accept the fact that attempting to do-it-all made me a grumpy person. Which in turn affected my family in negative ways.

So there. The dilemma stays. For now.

Note to self: Must look for ways to exercise the brain further!

Why I Don't Like Having a Maid

2009-08-27T11:02:00.001+08:00

The main reason I don't like having a maid is because they're a test to the heart and soul. In other words; "mencabar keimanan". At least that's how I feel.

Having a maid is suppose to simplify your life. But this is not usually the case. In the mornings our maid cleans the house and does the laundry. You might think this means that the employer's worries about cleanliness and clothes are non-existent, but this isn't so. There is the constant worry and need to check whether the maid's using the washing machine correctly (many a machines have been destroyed at various maids' hands), and whether the clothes are hung correctly. Clothes would be hung peg-less and many a piece of clothing would be scattered all over the garden if checking isn't done. Clothes would also stink and stain if they are not cleaned and washed properly, which is often the case in our house. And there's the ironing issue. Many clothes have been burnt and scarred by poor usage of the iron and so the ironing is also another chore requiring constant check-ups.

So those are the worries one has concerning the maid and the laundry. Lets get down to the next issue of cleaning and cleanliness.

Using the vacuum cleaner requires constant guidance and monitoring as well. Although taught to use the vacuum many times, our maid still uses it wrongly. Vacuum is left switched on for too long until the motor feels like it's about to explode. Dust isn't emptied correctly and servicing would be required soon after. Yet another machine with a history of many ill-treatments at the hand of various maids. Washing the toilet needs constant spot-checks too. Brushes meant for usage on the toilet floor would be used for the sinks and tubs if not checked on. Whatever that has been taught ten times would have to be repeated constantly over the weeks just in case the maid claims; "Saya dah lupa.." about what you teach.

And then there're the hygiene issues.

Repeatedly told not to rub her nose or play with her toenails and such (yes the maid does this) while feeding the kid... the maid would still do it if one doesn't keep an eagle eye on her. How'd you feel about a hair or (worse still) a booger in your kid's food?

Then there're all the other small things that you've taught but are constantly done wrong because... "Saya lupa.." ("I forgot") or "Saya ingatkan boleh buat begitu.." ("I thought it could be done this way"). Want examples? Using the sponge to wash plates to wash sinks and stovetops is one such example. Or "forgetting" to clean the brown stains and scums in various parts of the toilets when asked to wash the toilet. Or even forgetting to take her own mid-day shower which results in a really stinky body odour by early evening (errr.. God forgive me for saying this).

So if you still think having a maid simplifies life, think again. If you're one of the blessed people who have good maids, good on you! But if you're right here in the same boat as I am in...

May God give us strength and patience indeed!

I need a maid because God gave me the test of the spine. I cannot do a lot of housework and am not allowed to lift Gib when necessary. At every mealtime the maid lifts Gib into his high-chair and during car rides, the maid lifts him into his carseat. When / If Gib is unwell and needs cuddling, the maid lifts him up and puts him on my lap because I am not allowed to do this myself. So yes.. having a maid is a necessity to me. And as Allah is my witness, the maid is also one of life's biggest trials that God has sent me. Wallahualam. I should be glad that my life's trials are not bigger than mere maid-issues.

But as usual there is one last thing that needs to be said.

To those without maids, I envy you and respect you for making that choice.

And one day when the child(ren) are grown up and there isn't a need to have a stay-in maid, I'm sure there are other things to complain about. Hehh. C'est la vie!

Ramadhan's Challenges

2009-08-25T01:19:00.000+08:00

Already some personal challenges have come my way. I am quite sad at the turn of events. But alas, there is still time and hope to ponder and improve in this wonderful month. InsyaAllah. May God guide me to a better path here onwards.

Some people have been "carrying their mouths" ("bawak mulut" ..) and saying untrue things which could get in the way of one of the oldest relationships I've had in my life. No, not with H lah. I'm talking about one of oldest, most treasured friends. One of the few I still hold on to and have hopes to one day share stories about our grandchildren.

I must write about this because it is something we can and must learn from.

Don't exaggerate or make-up stories about non-existent issues. Your seemingly harmless lies may harm people in ways you cannot imagine and unknown to you.

Although we say we don't do this.. in reality we all do. In some way or another. In little ways or in big ways. Whatever it is, now that the hurt is right here in my field, I say we should all strive to always be aware of what we say or do. For in doing and saying things that we think are harmless, we could possibly bring hurt into other people's lives.

We could and should strive to be better people, friends. Maybe we can improve together.

Quick Wantan Mee

2009-08-24T15:02:00.000+08:00

With the H1N1 rampantly spreading, we seldom eat out nowadays. We recently had a yearning for Wantan Mee, so I decided to make it myself. It is soooo easy to make, I doubt we'll be having wantan mee in restaurants anymore (unless the Lazy Bug comes and infects us in the future!).

I didn't make any actual wantans/wantons because H and I are both allergic to prawns. I know! What is wantan mee without the wantans, right?! Well, if you wish to have the mee with wantan, I'd say go and buy those ready-made ones in supermarkets (available at the frozen section) and give em a quick fry. Or boil em in chicken stock. There's one brand that's particularly good but I'd forgotten the name. Will go looksie the next time I'm at the supermarket.

So here's the recipe...

QUICK WANTAN MEE

1 pack wantan noodle (approximately 200 grams; available at the chilled noodle and tauhu section in supermarkets)
2 small bunches of Pak Choy (you can use normal sawi but we love baby Pak Choy)
2 pieces chicken fillet (I use 2 pieces of boneless chicken maryland because they're juicier than chicken breasts)
Salt and white pepper

Sauce ingredients (which can be adjusted as you like):
4 tablespoons oyster sauce
1 tablespoon kicap manis (we use Habhal)
1 tablespoon kicap masin (we use Tamin)
2 teaspoons sesame oil
a pinch of salt

Method:

1. For the chicken; season well with salt and white pepper, steam in a steamer until cooked (about 20 minutes). Once cooked, cut into bite pieces.
2. For the pak choy; cut into bite pieces and throw them into a pot of boiling and well-salted water, boil until cooked. Drain and set aside. You can sprinkle a little of sesame oil and salt on it if you want, but we like it as is.
3. Mix all the sauce ingredients in a large bowl. Set aside.
4. For the noodles; take noodles out of packet, unravel the tightly bunched noodles until all of it loosens. Boil a pot of water, put the noodles in the boiling water. Do not leave noodles in hot water too long. A mere 10-15 seconds in the boiling water would do. If you like softer noodles, boil it until it floats. But I like chewy noodles, so my noodles took a really short dip in the boiling water. The next step is IMPORTANT. If you want springy and chewy noodles (not mushy!), you must prepare a big bowl of iced, cold water on the side. Drain the noodles from the pot, shake off all excess water. Then quickly dunk the noodle into the bowl of iced, cold water. Some people advise to dunk them into hot water again after that, but I don't do this. I just dunk mine in the cold water (for about 5 seconds or so), then took them out while they're still warm. The idea here is to let the noodles stop cooking.
5. Shake off all excess water and put the noodles into the sauce we'd mixed in step 3. Toss until the noodles are evenly coated by the sauce.
6. Serve immediately, with chicken slices and pak choy on top.

Note: Many people like their chicken roasted for this dish. I used steamed chicken because we like steamed chicken. Sometimes we'd marinate the chicken pieces with barbeque sauce (the hickory smoke sauce from Life is good and goes well with this dish, so we marinate the chicken in this), and cooked them in a skillet, on the stove with just a light spray of oil.

Cobaan...

2009-08-23T17:50:00.000+08:00

Remember in Pendekar Bujang Lapok when the three jokers were chanting the "Hey Mambang kuning, mambang whatever.." mantra, whenever they were disrupted they'd say.. "COBAAN...!"
(i.e. cubaan @ dugaan @ a test).

I don't know if it was too much P. Ramlee movies as a kid, but I say that a lot whenever I'm disturbed or perturbed. In all seriousness or as a joke. "COBAAN..." always seems to be the one-word phase that covers pretty much how I feel about the situation at hand.

And on the first day of Ramadhan, one was sent down to me.

Right after breaking fast and praying Maghrib.. I got my period.

COBAAN....

I'm really sad about this this time around because this is the first time I'm fasting in five years. I've waited for this Ramadhan with such anticipation, only to have it flail on the very first night.

But, Allah knows best.

Even with Aunt Flo's visit, there're ways to still reap the benefits of Ramadhan, I'm sure.

Do zikirs, do doas. Read the Quran and its terjemahans. Jauhkan from all negativities and sikap buruk. I can't seem to do this as well as I wish I could, but in trying to control our nafsu, there is Ibadah there. Insyaallah.

Anybody else has any tips to share for those of us who can't fast at the moment? I know Sarah's in the same boat as I am right now.

"Saya budak baru belajar, kalau salah tolong tunjukkan.."

Happy fasting to those who can :)

A Good Start to Ramadhan

2009-08-22T17:40:00.000+08:00

The doc declared the foot healed! Praise Allah! Yippee yeahh yayy!

Still, no walking or jogging exercise sessions for one more month. The soft tissue and tendon are healed but still tender.

And Ramadhan is here!

Lollies sent me a package containing books and reads which I totally love because they're so suitable for those free moments in Ramadhan. Thank you so much, Lolls, you're a constant inspiration to me. So sorry that we couldn't meet :( Sungguh menyedihkan tak dapat jumpa you. My sincerest apologies. These past few weeks have been a whirlwind. I want to take pictures of the books you sent but my Mom and H have started reading them and now they're in various rooms in the house! Thank you again, Lollies.

On another note, Alhamdulillah, I am amazed at the fact that I am once again fasting. After years of suffering from severe gastric, the illness has miraculously left me (even if this is a temporary situation, I am indeed thankful). In my book, miracles do happen indeed. This month is such a great month and I am hopeful and excited to reap benefits from it. Benefits which are good for the spirit and soul, Insyaallah.

Hope the start of Ramadhan is as amazing for you as it is for me :)

The Foot Issue

2009-08-19T11:21:00.000+08:00

So anyways, remember that foot I bumped into the dining table leg (kaki meja lah) the other day? Errr... more like weeks and weeks ago.

I've been going to this clinic to get the foot treated, and although it is slowgoing, Alhamdulillah and Insyaallah (Praise God and God willing) the foot is getting better.

It's been lookin' like a lepat pisang, all wrapped up nice and tight with Acustop bandages..

Eh sorry la.. my foot ain't very pretty, folks. But nevermind la, picture for memory's sake (untuk kenang-kenangan). Huhuhuu.

Dr. Mark, the podiatrist who's treating me, is South African but looks like a Malay+Arab or something akin to that. Then he opens his mouth and out comes the South African accent, which (embarrassingly!!) made my Australian accent come out in torrents and there I was, chatting away in my sho-sheng-sho-sheng karat Aussie accent.

There're only two podiatrists in Malaysia, y'all. Want your kids to become super-loaded, tell em to become podiatrists. Seriously. I think the amount of money I've given that clinic alone is enough for the doctor to makan-makan luxuriously for at least two weeks.

But if you've got health problems that need fixing, it's always money well-spent, isn't it.

Meeting Tun Mahathir and Jamal Abdillah

2009-08-12T17:50:00.000+08:00

This is a backdated post but something was wrong with our lovely Streamyx so I haven't been able to put it up.

On Sunday night (09/08/2009), we went to see this..

As a child I'd always liked Jamal Abdillah. Hooooboy, who doesn't remember the movie "Azura" and how hawt he was back then? Yeah yeah you can argue that he was as scrawny as a pole, and what with all his drug involvement.. poor fella. Now he ain't as handsome as he used to be, but he's still really talented alright.

This picture looks really familiar lah. Doesn't Michael Jackson have a similar picture..?? Oh wellll.

Truthfully I am not a big fan of the local music scene. The singers and their musics nowadays lack a certain sort of charisma. Now singers from back in the ol' days (from Tan Sri P. Ramlee's days up till the 80s) are in a different class of their own. Somewhere from the mid 80s, I just stopped being able to grasp the local music scene. As a teenager I wouldn't be caught dead listening to Malaysian music. Cool lah tu konon, eh? Pffft.

Anyway.. before I go too far off-tangent..

So despite the H1N1 worry, with Dad babysitting the kids (and the maids!); Mom, Sister, BIL, BIL'S Mama (my sister's mother-in-law la..), Dr. D (BIL's little sister) and I got dressed up and went to Jamal's last night performing at Istana Budaya for the Kembara Seniman tour.

I've forgotten 90% of his songs' lyrics and resorted to humming like a bee throughout the play+concert. The fella has a super-awesome voice, I tell ya. He sings so effortlessly, it got kinda scary to watch at times. You know.. the note is soo high, you'd expect the guy's voice to break and it doesn't. Phew.

Ohhhh ohhhh let me just tell you who we met there.

Tun Mahathir!

Yeah yeah so sue me. I'm a HUGE fan of Tun Mahathir. Always been, always will be. No politician is without flaws, but to me that old man is really something.

Tun Mahathir's car pulled up beside us as we were walking up the entrance of Istana Budaya and we got to wave "hi" at him. Hehehe. Batak sungguh. Well at least he smiled at us to acknowledge our mad wavings. Know why he pulled up right beside us? Because we took the wrong way and ended up at the V.I.P. entrance, that's why. See, I did say we were acting like bataks, right? Kekekee.

Since we sat beside the entrance, we got quite close to the V.I.P. entourage. Sister and Dr. D's highlight of the night was the fact that they got to salam the Tun. Grr. Yes I'm jealous.

Mom and me. Got resemblance, you think?

From left; BIL's Mama, Dr. D, Sister and BIL.

And after the concert, we once again we took the V.I.P.-route to the car (very few people followed this route), and waved again like bataks as the Tun and Dr. Siti Hasmah drove away. We had hoped to get personal pictures with Jamal, but BIL was being a real joykiller! He was hungry and wanted to leave a.s.a.p. Tsk tsk. So all I got was a picture of 50 year old Jamal Abdillah from afar (yes that's Datuk Rais Yatim beside him).

The performance was worth every penny. We got the RM150 tickets (after discount it was about RM137), but there were empty seats at the RM300 place and a few of us (Mom and me included) sat there for the second half of the show. So we got a really good view. The first part of the performance was a musical play, and it gave us an intimate view of Jamal's career; his achievements and personal turmoils. The man is indeed superbly talented, but what a lonely life he leads. In short, it was a heartwrenching, raw and honest piece of performance where he showed how lonely a life as a performer can be. Kudos to the man for fighting his inner devils (i.e. his drug problems in particular) and may Allah give him strength to stay strong and fight.

Overall.. what a night!

If anyone knows of any 80s Malaysian artists giving stage performances in the future, do holler!!

A Sudden Passing

2009-08-09T16:59:00.001+08:00

Seems like life's been a bit reflective lately. As in.. life's demanding us to be reflective.

Yesterday afternoon BIL's aunt, Mak Usu, passed away at the age of 55 due to complications resulting from chemotherapy. To those of you out there without this piece of knowledge.. yes, chemotherapy can bring about many complications. Truly I am no expert. But I know more about cancer and its treatments now than if compared to 5 years ago. Because I have cancer in my family. So I can't afford to live blissfully in oblivion anymore.

A breast cancer patient we know recently spent a couple of weeks in HKL's ICU because of blood sepsis, a complication which emerged with her chemotherapy treatment. She is now okay, Alhamdulillah. Mak Usu on the other hand, wasn't as lucky. She had her chemo earlier this week and was discharged on Friday morning (if I heard correctly). Saturday morning saw her excitedly making breakfast for her family, as she so often did on weekends when all her kids were home. After breakfast she told her family that she felt fine, so they should go on with whatever they needed to do for the day. So her husband (Pak Usu) followed their youngest daughter to oversee repairworks at her apartment. During which she then called Pak Usu to say that she was having difficulties breathing. They all rushed home, only to find her laying on the bed. She had passed on.

May she be at peace with Allah Subhanahuwata'ala.

She was a good person. I was never very close to her, but she had kids who were in Melbourne when we lived in Melbourne. She was one of those people that you just can't ignore because she tried so hard to care for you. Whenever she was in Melbourne, she'd invite us over to her kids' house for a meal. She'd come over our apartment too. Like all young people we kids were content in our own little worlds. She wouldn't allow that. She was big on family and gatherings. Every Raya since we came back from Melbourne, she'd insist on having a big gathering at her house. We got to know her and her family pretty well. She was caring, with huge smiles and hugs for us whenever she saw us. She always had some sort of advise up her sleeves. Her nephews and nieces would get irritated at times. But now that she's gone, we can see how she's touched so many people's lives.

Not a dry eye in the house when we went to ziarah her jenazah yesterday. All the nephews and nieces who'd complain about how kecoh she was, mourned openly. A nephew who was always so manly and composed went up to her jenazah and would not let go of her hand until steered away. Her pregnant daughter (due in a couple of weeks) could not get out of bed due to shock and grief. H and I had to leave early to attend a planned gathering, but the scene could not escape me.

Night fell and sister called me to say that Mak Usu would be buried Sunday morning. Cousins, friends, nephews and nieces from afar travelled back to pay their final ziarah and to give support to her family.

Mak Usu won't be hearing this, but I need to say this out.

Thank you, dear Mak Usu, for forcing us to feel a part of the family when we were in Melbourne.
Thank you for all the great meals we had under your roof.
Thank you for touching so many lives in your memorable way.
And thank you God for giving us the opportunity to witness her gregarious spirit.

One final thing.

Prior to her passing, we had planned to visit her once she was healthier and settled once more at home. The opportunity never came.

If you know anyone who is ill, don't wait. See them today.

Help Thou Neighbour

2009-08-08T02:40:00.000+08:00

I was up late and heard some "unaccustomed" noises on our street. Since our area's been partially closed (a section of our housing area is now gated and guarded), our street's been a lot quieter.

Curious about the sounds of purring engines, hushed voices, rattling car doors accompanied with some weird lights coming through the cracks on our window blinds.. I peeked. And saw a UMMC ambulance parked in front of a neighbour's house across from ours.

Ambulances make my heart fall. They make my jantung skip a tiny beat and then if there're sirens on, they'd pull my heart right down into my foot or something like akin to that. My first surgery was so bad, I've learned what it's like for an invalid person who is helpless and cannot move while doctors cut and sew and do things to your body. Remembering the wake-up test during the surgery (when they wake you up mid-surgery to ask you to wriggle your toes; this is to test nerve function once they've fused your spine), I can imagine what it's like for a patient to feel helpless and ill. There is nothing worse than being so ill, you cannot force yourself to wake.

I wonder how the person feels. That person who was straddled onto the stretcher, helplessly taken into the ambulance and to the hospital tonight, not 20 minutes ago.

After the ambulance left, there were some more noises and I peeked again. Saw two people get into the car and drive out of the house. No doubt to follow their loved one who was taken to the hospital.

Both times when I peeked, I was overcome with a feeling of guilt and shame. I really really wish there was something I could do to help. Or just ask if there is anything they need help with. And then I realised that I don't even know their names. I don't know who they are.

And they live just several houses away from us.

When I was little, this neighbourhood was different. Everybody knew everybody. Neighbours went to other neighbours' houses. I remember going to Uncle Dzul's house across the street (of the Dzul Dental Surgery here in DU, and whose daughter is part of the wonderous WonderMilk) and playing with his kids. Now when we bump into each other, we'd just smile and raise our hands. That's it. We don't even visit each other during Raya anymore.

Then there's Uncle Rony next door who is (and always was) very tolerant of the shoutings and screamings that came from our noisy house back when all five kids stayed here in this ol' DU house. Once, years ago, Shazwan and Sarah threw stuffed toys into their compound and Aunty Michelle came knocking on my car window to return the toys to us. I was so shocked I thought she was one of those mute people who go around selling stuffed toys to the general public, and I kept on shaking my head and gesturing "No, No, taknak beli". To which she good-naturedly laughed and later on forgave me for it. Hehhh. Malu woh.

But other than them... we don't know any other neighbours.

So in the end, in the event like tonight, when we so wanted to reach out and offer help.... we don't know how. And so we couldn't help.

This is not the right way to live, is it, my friends?

When we were in Melbourne, Margaret our downstairs neighbour used to irritate the heck out of us. But if we put Margaret aside (in the discarded-memory-box where she ought to belong), come to think of it.. we had good neighbours.

Once we had a blackout and H and I were peeking out of our front door to see if the main power switchbox in the hallway tripped, and Fiona from across the hall came out to check if we had enough candles to face the blackout. When we went out onto the balcony, that buff neighbour of ours from the next block (forgot his name) called out to ask if we were okay, and if we needed some candles or torchlights.

Then there were those bees which built a humongous (really!) nest on the balcony of one neighbour from next door and the buff neighbour approached us and asked if we'd like to go along to tell the neighbour that they had a bee infestation, and to offer help to remedy the situation somehow.

And once when our foreign neighbour accidentally left her keys inside the apartment and was locked out, while her 2 year-old son was locked in the apartment, the neighbours upstairs hurriedly peeked to see if there was anything they could help us with when they heard the commotion (that was our shrill voices calling out to the li'l boy if he could reach and open the door).

We Asians are supposed to have more of a neighbourhood spirit, and culturally we were supposed to put more stress on social ties and relationships. At least that's what most researchers said back when I researched for Cross Cultural Negotiations. That Asian cultures are more concerned about interpersonal relationships and so on.

So where on earth did we go wrong?

Well...

I hope our neighbours are doing fine somehow.

A Cat's Eyes

2009-08-03T01:01:00.000+08:00

I was going nuts, wasn't I..?!! Hoooboyy. Gill, that Nemo's friend was right!

Anyways, the first day out of "quarantine" saw H, Gibran and myself at Homst TTDI having dinner. Oooh their lemon chicken is to die for lah. And for the first time in two weeks, Gib finished his rice. He even had agar-agar which I made with evaporated milk and fruit cocktail later at the in-laws', on top of his usual night-time milk. Alhamdulillah. I pray his appetite is coming back.

So there I was, driving home alone at 9+ p.m. out of TTDI's Athinahapan area to get Gib's milk from our house (I'd dropped H and Gib off at Pa's and Ma's place first), and at that T-junction near their house, I saw a cat with blinking eyes like flickering neon lights.

Yikes! Freaky. Spooooky.

A cat with eyes which glow out of the dark, I'm used to. Because we had cats for 20 years of my life before Gib was born. But a cat with BLINKING lighted-up eyes.. that was something new.

Then I realised that the cat's eyes were reflecting the signal light on my car. I was signaling to go to the right, and the blinking light was reflected on the cat's eyes.

D'uhhhh.

I swear I must've been going nuts. Phew.

May Allah bless us with good health and strong hearts as we prepare for Ramadhan!

Going Nuts

2009-07-31T21:28:00.000+08:00

I think I'm literally going nuts. I'm sick of staying at home, caring for a kid who all of a sudden does not want to eat everything/anything we offer him, sick of these four walls and looking at the maid who never does anything right, sick of people telling me that we shouldn't bring Gib to public places coz that's why he got sick and we better be careful coz H1N1's rampant nowadays, sick of not knowing how to help Gib get rid of his access energy, sick of looking at my stupidly swollen foot that's costing a bomb to treat at that expensively stupid podiatrist, sick of trying to reason out with a 2.5-year old kid who's restless and always up to some thing or the other, sick of fearing of being sick, sick of being sick. I am so sick of everything.

And yes, who are we to say that we are sick of everything because there are always so many blessings given by the Almighty, and we should think of those and not those things that make us sick...?

I'm even sick of my own voices in my own head telling me not to be sick because that's just a really ungrateful thing to do when it's obvious God's blessed us with so many things although we lose sight of all those good things amongst the sickening things in life right now. And I'm sick of people telling me I shouldn't be feeling sick.

Am I making sense yet? Yes I know I'm not.

You know in Nemo that black fish, Gill, told Nemo; "Fish aren't made to live in a box, kid. It does things to you."

That's what humans are like too.

Humans aren't meant to be cooped up. It does things to you.

Like it makes me lose sight of the wonderful, great toddler that God's blessed me with. And it's made me lose sight of the fact that we are blessed to be able to afford a maid, because all I can see now is how hopeless this maid of mine is, and how she causes more headache than help. It's made me lose sight of so many things.

Maybe I need a holiday away from life.

Owning Up

2009-07-29T01:24:00.000+08:00

Was in Taman Megah today to get the suspected-fractured-foot x-ray-ed, and decided to park at the opened-air carpark behind the Sime Darby Health Centre in Tmn Megah. No improper parking for me, sirree, don't want no parking tickets.

Forty minutes later, Mom and I came back to my good ol' second-hand bright blue Avanza which I'd bought with my own sweat money from the good ol' working days in Melbourne, to find the Avanza's bum having been bumped by some car reversing out of its spot. Or whatever.

Yeah I could take a picture of it and post it up here. But I think looking at the picture would make me pi$$ed off somehow. It isn't so bad to warrant cursings and crying on my behalf (although Mom did utter colourful curse-phrases all the way home.. now, how come she wonders where I get my temper from?) because .. well, a car is just a car, right? And the car still works fine. And the dent + scratches aren't soo chronic that they can be seen from more than 20 metres away (err.. 10 metres away still can see lah, methinks). And.. well, there is nothing I can do at this point anyway, so I'm just going to take it as fated by God, as a test unto me.

You know that prayer of serenity they put on bookmarks?

It goes something like this:

"May God grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can;
And the wisdom to know the difference."

I like that one. It does have a lot of truth in it, doesn't it?

But let me just say one thing, guys.

If, lets just say, IF and IF any one of you out there accidentally bump into another person's car (especially a parked car, with its owner utterly oblivious to what's happening to his/her vehicle!)... do have the courage and courtesy to own up to it and do the right thing. Because.. well..

Because it's just the right thing to do.

The other party may diss you and hiss at you, but you can live with yourself knowing that you simply did the right thing. You didn't run, you didn't hide. You owned up. And that is just... SO right.

Thank You Mr. Policemen

2009-07-26T01:57:00.000+08:00

Our friend Tam was hanging out at our house earlier tonight and left not five minutes ago. It's always nice to have company, BUT....

I got so nervous tonight, I sweated buckets!!!!

I was busy gossipping with Tam when we heard loud crashing sounds on the porsh outside the house. We both rushed to the windows and saw half-a-red brick laying on the floor outside the window. The other half of the brick was laying outside the front door. I woke H up and told him that someone was throwing bricks at our house and then we called the Damansara Utama Police Station. Tam needed to get home and we didn't want to open the doors to a possible situation where there could be invaders in hiding, waiting to ambush us once the doors were opened. Hey, call me paranoid, but doesn't that happen fairly often in good ol' Malaysia?

Talk about a pleasant surprise; the coppers arrived within 5 to 10 minutes! Definitely under 10 minutes. Now that's public service.

They kept their siren lights going (minus the sound of course) and that attracted a number of neighbours to their doors for peakings. Surprising, the number of Malaysians still up at 2 a.m. There were two cops, one even armed with an M16. They took out their C.S.I.-like neon flashlights and circled around the house to make sure there was noone hiding in possible nooks and crannies.

We actually apologised for calling them over the very small matter of having bricks thrown into our car porsh, but they gravely told us that one can never be too careful nowadays with the rising criminal statistics. They both assured us that we did the right thing to call them because, yes, invaders could just ambush upon you at anytime. Don't ever think you're invincible in your own home, folks.

Once the policemen left, H and I sat like statues for a while in our living room while this realisation dawned upon us; noone is really entirely safe in their own homes. One has to be constantly aware of the dangers lurking in our societies, even when one feels falsely safe and secured in one own's home.

The bricks barely missed our cars. I've got a feeling that they were aiming for our cars but missed. Alhamdulillah. God protected us tonight.

And may Allah bless the coppers for their kindness and thoroughness, and guide them to provide their best for us. Because we do need watchmen in our society, and although I've never been a big fan of the Malaysian Police Force (ohhh yeahh... don't get me started on my lack of trust in the authorities.. I have trust issues, remember?) I must say that tonight they were there for us at the right time, and with the right words.

So thanks, Mister Policemen.

All Grown Up

2009-07-17T16:18:00.000+08:00

When I first got to know H back in 1996 (we'd just finished SPM back then), my eldest nephew Shazwan was turning one year old. The first time I invited H to come over to meet-the-parents (my parents!), it was for Shazwan's first birthday bash. We were 17 and Shazwan had just learned to talk. He was a quick-talker, I tell ya. At one year old he was asking questions like a two year old. He listened to stories and repeated them to other people. When in restaurants, he would order his own food ("Nasi goreng satu, milo ais satu!") much to the amusements of waiters/waitresses. He was such a cute kid who was a real joy to be with.

And like all kids, he grew up.

Now he is 13 years old, a smart-talker who says the most shocking things which would cause his grandma to go "Astaghfirullah!!".. like that time last month when he said that one day when he's got a girlfriend, he'd want to go for a road trip to Genting so that they can have a date up there. Pffft. Ideas a teenager gets from peers. And just like how my parents flailed and fainted every once in a while when dealing with us in our teenage years, sister and BIL are going through the same exact situation. Karma is a funny thing, yeah?

H used to spend hours playing wrestling with Shazwan. H was the uncle that Shazwan used to follow around, and surprisingly still does now (sometimes). Now H is Shazwan's main confidante in the family, and somewhat his role model. H isn't too comfortable with the idea, but one must try to live up to a child's expectations sometimes.

Standing at 5 feet 5 inches, 65 kilos, it's disorienting to see the child who is nearly an adult himself bent over in a secret conversation with a skinny lanky man who is his confidante and advisor.

Shazwan's nearly the same weight as his Uncle H now, he can even carry the older guy on his back.

We all grow out of our role models once we reach an age where our peers seem cooler and our individuality becomes of utmost importance. Although this will happen when Shazwan outgrows H one day, I do hope that their closeness remains somehow.

We love you, you stubborn but soft-hearted wrestler boy, you. Remember that.

Mixed-Worried

2009-07-16T01:44:00.000+08:00

Hard to describe but that's what it is. A mixture of .. should I be worried?... or no, no biggie, I shouldn't be worried. I'm talking about good ol' spine.

Since stupidly staying up half the night watching Grey's Anatomy (the first time I'd done this in yearssss!), for some reason the left side of my spine started feeling tingly, then eventually that led to an ache down the right side of my body, and now my left foot is swollen as if I've got a bad case of water retention. Really odd. I went to my tukang urut today (don't start with me people... I've been to many many many doctors my whole life and I know what they'll do and what they'll say, and at times seeing the tukang urut is a better option), and did not feel any pain when she massaged the lower spine leading down my left side. So I'm not entirely sure this time that this is caused by my lower spine like last year. The pain feels different.

If my feet were pretty I'd take pictures of em. Hehhh. Then you'll see how weirdly swollen it is. Weird weird weird. Hmm.

Well, the bright side is that I've felt healthy for the past year. Maybe another pain session is due for a reminder..? Shhhyeah.. I'm morbid aren't I.

Morbidity aside, I do pray that the pain will subside because living normally and feeling like you're nearly normal is such a great thing. One should never take normality for granted.

Everything Happens For a Reason

2009-07-11T01:13:00.000+08:00

That's what they say. And yes, I do believe it's true.

At the Arabic class yesterday our teacher Mr. Bilal was telling us how he ended up in Malaysia. And Subhanallah, the story is nothing short of an amazing tale of intertwining fates. He was made redundant from a job as a computer specialist. He felt lost and decided to travel to Makkah for Umrah, during which he met a cousin of his whom he fell-in-fancy with. He married her, and they went back to Yemen where he was raised. In his desperate efforts for a job, he met the man who later played a vital role in bringing him here to Malaysia. And this all happened within the span of several months.

Dare I say something that has plagued my mind for years..?

If Ninie didn't die, I wouldn't be where I am now. If Ninie who was one of my oldest dearest friends, did not die, I wouldn't have decided to throw away all the care I had in the world and have a baby. If Ninie didn't die, I wouldn't feel afraid of having my life snatched away from me tonight or tomorrow.

Not a day passes that I don't think of her. I will always miss her. I miss her laughter and everything that made her unique. And I know one day I'll see her again when the time comes.

Morbid talk aside.. Do you ever wonder what in your life, what is that thing that happened for what reason(s)? We all have things that happen and change our lives permanently in unbelievable ways.

For me, Ninie was (is) one of those things.

What's yours? What changed your life forever..?

Traffic and Highway Signs

2009-07-10T03:04:00.000+08:00

I have KL-phobia. I cannotttt stand driving into KL. I can count with one hand the number of times I've gone into KL since I stopped working in KL.

Today we went to Gleneagles to visit H's cousin, Ina, who's having a spinal surgery early tomorrow morning. Mom and Sister tagged along (because we travel in troops.. hehhh) and they told me to take the new DUKE highway. But they don't even know the way to take. So I told em, no sirree, we take the normal way okay... coz I didn't want to risk getting lost.

So like the nerds that we are, we took the NKVE to the Duta interchange, drove off the highway, into Jalan Tun Razak and worked our way up to Ampang from there. It took us 45 minutes to get to Gleneagles because of the usual Ampang jam. Grrrrr.

Don't anybody in Malaysia walk or take public transportation anymore...? Practically every vehicle had only one person in them (the driver). That makes millions of cars on the roads at any given time of the day. Scary thought. And lets not chat about the lack of pedestrian side-walks or public transportations in Malaysia.

After chatting with a chirpy-but-worried Ina, we left at nearly 5 p.m. and vowed to take the DUKE. So into the DUKE we went.

What is it with Malaysian roads and the lousy signage?? Call me a snob but the highway signage in Malaysia is nothing like those they have in Australia. Tensionnnnnnnnn.

First the sign said "Damansara 200 m"... and then at the turning, it said; "Petaling Jaya, Kepong, etc.." ... ALRIGHT you can argue that Damansara is in PJ, but why lah the signs cannot be consistent??! Put lah same-same names!

Ok since I have hypertension and high-blood problems in my genetic chain, I will stop yakking about highway signs right now.

I can just imagine what Ina must be feeling right now. When you're going through major surgeries, there's that doubt in you whether you'd live to wake up again. There's always that unsaid scary thought.

Here's praying that cousin Ina's procedure goes smoothly and that God will give her strength to carry through the post-op recovery period with patience and faith, Insyaallah.

The Indon Maid Matter

2009-07-08T01:39:00.000+08:00

Wowza. My maid was acting up the whole day (you know, one of those days when they cannot do anything right), and I tell you... my blood-went-upstairs when I read in The Star today about the demands made by the Indon government for their workers who are planning to work in Malaysia.

Hey don't get me wrong. I am thankful for the help that I get. But the demands made are RIDICULOUS.

The Indonesian side is saying that the demands are necessary because they must do what they can to protect their citizens' rights. Oh gee. So what about us, the Malaysian employers. What are our rights?

I've had two maids so far (this is our second one) but all my life we've always had maids. Alhamdulillah. When I was small, we had a local maid from Batang Berjuntai in Selangor. She was my nanny and Mom's maid. Her name was (is!) Kak Lela. She was with us for more than 10 years and was a part of our family. She left to marry and start a family and it was sad for all of us to see her go.

Mom hired weekly help after Kak Lela left and we got our first Indon maid when Shazwan was born in 1995 because sister was working then and Mom needed help caring for Shazwan. Since then there's been a succession of Indonesian maids in our home.

We never mistreat our maids. My parents' maid has been with us for 11 years and Sister's maid has been with us for 7 years. My first maid, Nila, wanted to stay but chose to go home because she had a toddler of her own. I hope our current one somehow would work a number of years to come.

But hullo! .... If you think having maids is something of a luxury and can really simplify one's life.. goodness how you are sadly mistaken.

When Sister was looking for maid of her own (about 8 years ago), she went through a few agents and was cheated out of thousands of ringgits when the maids ran off or stole things or were forced to be sent back.

Once (we suspect) we took in a maid who was part of a syndicate because she arrived, waited 3 days to see how our house worked, took some money and walked out of the house in broad daylight when she was supposed to be watering the plants outside. The agent remains MIA to this day.

Once we took in a maid who shrieked and cheered and danced when watching the TV. It freaked my parents and sister's family so much that she was sent back after 2 days of unending woots-woots, whistlings and clappings directed to mister television.

Another time we took in a maid from Kampung Pandan who told our Bibik (my parents' maid) that she can teach Bibik the "ways" to make the men in our house bow to the maids' needs and desires. Of the "jampi"/black magic sort. Shudder! We sent her back to the agent immediately and the agent had the nerve to call us a few days later with scoldings of how the maid claimed that she was not fed and was beaten severely by us. Grrrrr.

Then there are the countless maid-stories of people surrounding us.

My cousin Jiji got conned twice in the past year by two different agents and lost a total of RM8000 before dishing out another RM5000 for a third maid from yet another different agent. So far third time's the charm but imagine the money spent.. and the heartache. Never underestimate the heartache. Sakit hati lah..

A friend of my Mom's voiced out that she could not understand how her new maid could eat so much, on and on and on.. only to discover that the maid arrived from Indon already pregnant (the doctors fibbed about this in their medical report over there), and when told that she would have to be sent back, the maid ran off leaving the family high and dry without help and thousands of ringgits down the drain.

Then there's Mira whose maid ran off too, and she suspects the maid had been abusing her 2 year-old son Emir because of the tell-tale blue-black marks he had on him.

I can go on but then we'd never stop, would we? There're just too many maid-related horror stories.

Now the Indon government wants us to let the maids hold their own passports, and have their own bank accounts into which we'd be depositing their salaries for them to handle on their own. In their own hands. And lets not forget the one day off per week. My family usually lets Bibik go home to Indonesia for 3 months each time (she goes home every 1.5 to 2 years) because Bibik never gets a day off. Already now our Bibik's telling us she has no desire for one day off per week because that would be eating into her own money, and she'd have less opportunity and time to spend back in her homeland.

So what do you think..? Do you think all these demands would really help both parties... or would they make the relationships between employers and employees more vulnerable and irritable?

For me, personally, it's like this. Wallahualam... tapi if it's soo hard, Mister Indon Minister... there's still the rest of the third world countries for us to look at. Maybe having a Sri Lankan or Cambodian maid wouldn't be so bad after all.

Of Vanity

2009-07-03T00:50:00.000+08:00

I don't think I'm a vain person, but I guess I do care about some things. Does that constitute as vanity..?

I walk at least four or five times a week for 30 minutes each time and although the main reason for this is to exercise good ol' spine (not exercising makes my spine very very very stiff.. think of gripping onto your pc mouse for at least an hour without loosening hold; that's how stiff the whole of good ol' spine becomes at times).. I never seem to lose even a pound. Not even one. Go figure. Then there's the fact that I'm living with Mister-Eat-Everything-That-Comes-My-Way-Without-Gaining-An-Ounce. Yup of course I'm talking about H. Thinking about it makes me dazed and confused.

Then there are those "laugh"-lines around my eye area. Alahhh. OKAY, FINE. You can call em crows' feet if you want. Whatever. Maybe there're not crows' feet yet, but they're definitely heading that way. I think they'll be eagles' feet in about 10 years time. Only God knows. All that despite the fact that I religiously apply eye gel and eye cream everytime after washing my face. This indeed leaves me dazed and confused.

And I know that I have not been able to do a single sit-up or stomach crunch-exercise since the spinal surgeries, but you'd think a woman's tummy would go back to somewhere near to its pre-pregnancy size after nearly three years of the baby's delivery..?

And if I have to hear one more story about H's students telling him; "Mister H, whyy... are you sure you have a kid?? You don't look a day above eighteen!".... I swear I'll chuck out the eye-creams, lotions, hair serum, shavers, wax strips, tweezers, perfumes, concealers and that extra big pot of cocoa butter body scrub... right into H's grinning face.

Alamak. If H reads this, I'll be dead meat!

Sorry H huney, I love you to bits but have mercy on a woman's ageing heart, yeah?

After all, these faint stretch marks on this good ol' tummy are war medals, man!

Well. At least in my case t'is true that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach :p

P/S: Forgive me God, it's PMS laa kot...

MJ's Passing

2009-06-27T17:01:00.000+08:00

Yesterday (26th June '09), Michael Jackson dubbed also as the King of Pop by beautiful-gone-eccentric Elizabeth Taylor, passed on.

I was never a huge fan of MJ himself (though I loved the beautiful Elizabeth Taylor esp. in that movie "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof".. err sorry, off-tangent here).. but I liked him enough to have bought a couple of albums back in the 80s and 90s. I remember freaking out everytime I saw the "Thriller" music video (it scared the bejeebers out of me), and I hated that famous red jacket he wore, but after that found "Bad" extremely entertaining. Like most teens back then, I adored that weepy song "You Are Not Alone" until the radio played it soo often your ears would bleed if you heard it one more time. After those turbulent years, to this day I still like his oldies from the Jackson Five days, especially "Ben" (for some reason, dunno why!) and of course you couldn't have grown up in the 80s and not recall "We Are The World" with much fondness.

Suffice to say, I did appreciate some of his music and talent as an entertainer. Who on earth could've created those dance moves other than good ol' MJ?

Frankly, I wasn't one of those people who was so sure that he was a molester as charged. I wasn't too sure that he wasn't either. Whatever the truth is, isn't it for God to judge and not us?

Now he's passed on, and his cycle of life is complete. Whether it is true he died a Muslim or not, only God knows.

Yang dah pergi tu, sudah lah. Let it be.

When I was in primary school, I had a friend who was veryyy much into MJ. You could say she lived and breathed MJ. I saw her last during our uni years, and she was still very much into him. I wonder how she's handling the passing of her idol. I don't particularly have an idol, so I wouldn't know.

Anyways..

His songs however will live on in my fond-nest childhood memories. A bunch of us singing "We Are The World" for some concert in SRK SSP. My friends Audrey, Zarihan and myself clumsily attempting the Moon Walk dance one day when we stayed back at school for co-curriculum activities... laughing our heads off when we came across like chickens doing the hokey-pokey instead of the glamorous Moon Walk. We've all gone separate ways and live separate lives now. A group of black-clad girls hanging out at the neighbourhood park with walkmen hanging out of our ears, singing "You Are Not Alone" at the top of our lungs, with much passion and weepy-ness. I still see some of the girls once in a while with kids or boyfriends in tow at the Sunday neighbourhood pasar malam.

So even though he won't be hearing this.. thanks MJ, for your songs.

H1N1 Gets Too Darn Close For Comfort

2009-06-22T17:19:00.000+08:00

My nephew Shazwan's school (SM Damansara Utama / SMDU) has two cases of H1N1-infected students. Said students are supposed to have been properly quarantined as we speak.

Then for the life of me, please explain, SMDU, why we had to learn of this from the TV3 van parked in front of the school, which of course evoked Shazwan's dear old Atuk's curiousity (dear ol' Dad).. and he of course walked into the school to make enquiries on the matter. I doubt any parent was properly informed about this. Then TV3 talked about it during the 1.30 news and I suppose that's how most parents would learn about this piece of news.

Schools. Don't they have any sense of responsibility towards their students and the students' parents? And what the heck are those people in Jabatan Kesihatan doing? Wanna wait till the whole Damansara Utama is infected or quarantined, then baru decide to close the school, issit?

Excuse me if I sound pissed. That's coz I am.

H1N1's too close for comfort indeed.

Of Cicaks

2009-06-16T12:45:00.000+08:00

I HATE house lizards a.k.a. cicaks. I hate it when they appear out of nowhere and start crawling and squirming all over your legs in utter panic (who's supposed to be panicky here?!). I hate it when they sneak their heads out of under the washing machine to peak at what I'm doing in my own kitchen in the middle of the night and early mornings. I hate the very way they wriggle and squirm. They are utterly disgusting and I cannot stand them. The very thought of cicaks squirming anywhere within a ten-foot pole's distant is enough to make the hair on my neck stand up. Gross!

Today it happened again. I was busy washing chicken pieces to cook for lunch and had been standing there for a good 10 minutes when suddenly a cicak crawled onto my foot and started wriggling from foot to foot. Grosssssssss!

You bet I did a grand red-indian-rain-dance complete with shrieks that put those crows on the windowsill to shame. And to add salt to wound, the maid who had never seen her stalwart employer so out of control immediately got to her feet like a person at the ready to go to war, with exclamations of; "Puan! Puan! Apa itu? Apa ituuu?? Apa ituuuu Puannnnn???!" .. and in all that commotion, Gibran grabbed his lightsaber and rushed into the kitchen with shrieks of; "Kenape Mummy?! Kenape Mummy?? Kenapaaaaaaaaaaa Mummyy!! Are you okay?! ARE YOU OKAY MUMMYYYYY!!"....

Pffft.

All that just for one lousy cicak's sake.

I wish I know how to exterminate those pests!

Trust Issues

2009-06-15T00:41:00.000+08:00

I have major trust issues. When Gibran was little and sick soo often, I hardly let anyone else hold him at family gatherings because I was sick of having a sick baby all the time. I also felt as if I was dreadfully troublesome if anyone held my baby too long because I hate troubling people.

I never leave Gibran alone with the maid at home. Hardly ever. The only times I'd left him alone at home was when he was sleeping and I needed to get bread or something important that wouldn't require more than 30 minutes. Even with our trusted old maid, I didn't. And now with the new one, lagi lah never. Hardly ever. Whenever I need to run errands or go for classes, I'd drop Gibran and the maid off at my parents' place. I have "visions" (of the not-good-sort) of maid running off or simply neglecting my kid in some way. Always.

I never even let the maid feed or bathe Gibran. Except for those days when I was very ill (last year when the implants were infected), and on days when I'm not around (running errands or at class), I would be the one feeding or bathing or simply doing anything/everything for Gibran. The maid is there only when I need assistance of some sort.

I've only left Gibran to go to bed without me during the times when I was hospitalised and was too ill. Other than that, noone else puts Gibran to bed except for H and myself. I have not been out till late at night with friends or for whatever function since Gibran was born because I always make sure I'm there when he's put to bed. As a result, whenever we're forced to leave him at night (the occasional wedding reception or discussion after our night classes), he'd start asking for Mummy and Baba as soon as the clock hits 10 p.m. Sometimes when he gets into fights with his cousins, he'd cry his eyes out for hours if we're not around. On that sort of occasion, we've had to rush back home to see to him. Like tonight for instance, our friend from Melbourne is in KL and hoping to meet up for late dinner and supper and a late-into-night gossip session.. and I was forced to back out because I didn't want to leave Gibran alone well into the wee hours of morning. Normally he'd follow us wherever we go, but tonight's meeting was a smokey joint (the sort we never failed to frequent a few times a week pre-Gibran days), and we couldn't risk exposing Gib to all that smoke.

My Dad likes to take his grandkids out with the maids as guardians/assistants. Last year they went to the zoo when I was still bed-ridden, so I didn't let Gibran go because I wouldn't be there to monitor him. H and I aren't comfortable with the maid being in charge of him on an outing like that for the whole morning. If he messes around with filthy things, the maid wouldn't care. She wouldn't even care about thoroughly scrubbing her hands and nails before feeding him if we weren't there. And what if he gets sick from all that heat and sun and lack of water because for sure the maid wouldn't pay attention to all those small details. That was when we had Nila, whom we actually did trust. Last week his cousins went to the zoo (with my Dad and sister's maid tagging along as Dad's assistant), and Gib couldn't go because I wasn't feeling too well and again, I wouldn't be around to fully-monitor the maid. New maid some more this time. How can we trust her..? But then, we didn't let Nila be in charge back then too.

Nowadays, Gibran is my constant shadow. He'll rush upstairs if he hears me walking around although I've just sent him downstairs to the maid not two minutes before that. And I was just about to take a shower and solat. Everyday I have to make sure we go to the park because that's the only place where he'd be too busy to look for me, and for once I'd have a chance to exercise. When the weather's lousy and I'm forced to workout at home, guess who'd be sitting right beside me while I'm working out?

Ninety percent of the time I love it. I love being a mother, I love this great kid I've been blessed with. He talks so well that he is now like a companion. I don't regret sacrificing my career because I believe that having me stay at home is the best thing for all of us. Not a minute goes by that I don't thank God for the ability to live normally. Things people take for granted like standing, walking, cooking, driving and so on. I try never to forget the days when I could not do all of that.

But then there are those times when I am unsure if these trust issues are making life harder... not easier. Are they, really?

When friends ask us to go out till the wee hours of morning, our conscience just can't take it. What if the people we leave Gibran with aren't taking care of him right? I don't miss the nightlife and I don't particularly like to hang out all night and come back to a quiet home and a sleeping kid who didn't get to hug Mummy goodnight. And yet there is that small part of me that sometimes wishes that I could just let go and relax a little.

In our circle of friends, there are friends with kids (including infants) who leave their kids behind with the maid or family members easily and have the luxury of going out there and having a life well beyond their little homes, and not worry too much about arranging childcare at the last minute, any time any day is a good time for having a good time.

And no, I am not envious or bitter. Honestly I'm not. And NO, I'm not judging them either because they're our good friends and everyone is entitled to their own ways of living. I just.... wonder why I cannot be like that!

The truth is that I'd rather be at home with a sleeping Gibran (who is muttering in his sleep right now) and a snoring H, after having had a pasar malam dinner of meehoon soup while watching Finding Nemo, with house chores waiting by my side (which I'm ignoring because, well.. d'uh, I'm blogging).. than being right there where I could otherwise be. Out there where the loud music used to soothe, the smokey air used to lull the troubles away, and loud and rowdy jokes are told with belly-splitting laughters.

I suppose we are happy in this quiet cocoon of ours.

Tag: Random Happiness

2009-06-01T23:22:00.000+08:00

The hot Crash Test Mom has tagged me on 6 (un)important things that make me happy. So here goes!

The 6 (Un)important Things That Make Me Happy:

1. When Gibran says "Ban sayangggg Mummy".. without any prompting from me. Trouble is he doesn't do this often enough.

2. Any sort of retail therapy. Seriously. Go to pasar also can make me happy. Huhuhuuhuuu.. And don't get me started on how happy I get whenever I shop for clothes and make-up. :p

3. The post-workout feeling. Who doesn't like the feeling of having worked-out hard?!!! And tell me, who in the right mind likes to work out lah? I DON'T. I just like the after-workout feel coz I can eat the Peanut Butter Baskin Robbins ice-cream I got yesterday without feeling utterly FAT. If only we could have that after-workout feeling without working out.

4. A good pedicure. Manicures and facials are fun but I can live without them. Pedicures.. they're special somehow. Something about wearing open-toed sandals and looking at your feet looking lovely. Hehhhh perasannn.

5. Smoochie woochies from hubby. Heheheheheeeeeeee. Always works to chase the blues away. Err.. smoochie woochies from Gibby are somewhat better though :p I feel unconditionally loved! Sorry H. You're definitely second class citizen for now, bebeh.

6. Sitting around on the beach sand with my little family without caring what time or day it is. Throw that watch out into the sea!

And now comes the hard part. Who to tag..?!

Err..

Ok.... what about..

1. Slavemom.
2. Yatie.
3. Ummi Sa'eed.
4. Mummy Darren (if you're feeling better, dear!)
5. Family First (because it'll be nice to get to know you better)
6. Feenie (I haven't heard from you in ages! Rindu lah pulak!) ;)

But first I have to TELL them about the existence of this blog first... then baru can tag, right?? Hmmmm.

For Malaysians With Scoliosis

2009-05-30T01:52:00.000+08:00

I have finally started a blog on Scoliosis and it is here:

http://scoliosismalaysia.blogspot.com/

It's still empty (no-frills) and I'll have to work on it a lot more. I'm hoping to meet up with several specialists this June and start building a proper support network for young people with Scoliosis. It will be no easy feat, so I pray God will help me as I go along.

To anyone out there with Scoliosis, or knows anyone with Scoliosis, or anyone seeking information regarding Scoliosis and its treatments in Malaysia.. please do get in touch with me through my email as shown in the Scoliosis blog.

This attempt is not to discuss the correct method for Scoliosis treatment, because treatments are patient-dependent. It is not to promote the sort of treatment(s) that I personally went through (surgical and non-surgical). It is for the sole purpose of getting Scoliosis patients together, so that they do no feel alone in their fight for "normality".

I will keep you guys updated with the progress to achieve a support group. Wish me luck, friends!

At Tesco Mutiara Damansara

2009-05-29T12:06:00.000+08:00

As a Malaysian shopper, one has to constantly stand for one's rights!

Took this picture at Tesco Mutiara Damansara a while back and have been meaning to put it up. But yes, I've been neglecting this blog.. boohooo. The heart yearned to blog, but the body couldn't!! Go figure. Dunno how sometimes I just can't seem to find some good quality me-time to surf and blog.

Anyways. It seems that the sign was meant to mean.. "Limited to 4 per customer"... not "Limited to 24 units per customer". Ada ka patut????

Obviously someone made a big blunder here. Maybe that person's been sms-ing or chatting online too much. You know.. when you sms/chat you tend to shorten / abbreviate words and spellings like this.. "U tgh buatpe tu? ru goin 2 work l8er?". Well, you get my drift.

You bet I argued my case there. I'd taken 12 cans of those good stuff and I wasn't gonna pay the full price. Not when the sign clearly said 24 units. It isn't the customers' fault that they screwed it up, right?

They called the manager-on-duty and at first she didn't want to give me the discounted price. Admirably enough (woohoo angkat bakul!) I managed to NOT lose my cool. I just told her that I was terribly disappointed with Tesco and how often we shopped there, spending up to thousands of ringgits per month on groceries and misc. items. And this terribly disappointing incident was definitely going to put us off Tesco in the future. I guess that got to her somehow.. probably started her thinking about the loss of customer lifetime value and whatnot (they'd lose big bucks from our pockets alone and just imagine how many friends we'd be telling about this incident.. yes, you betcha)... and she quickly told the cashier.. "Takpe, takpe, bagi akak ni discounted price tu. Kesian dia."

Kesian ka..? Ataupun takut nanti customers lari? Huhuhuu..

Whatever it is, the bottom line is.. As a Malaysian consumer, sometimes you gotta go the distant to argue your case. Tsk tsk.

The Titanium Implants

2009-05-04T00:50:00.000+08:00

April 30th marked one year of my second spinal surgery when the doctors took out the implants which were put in for spinal fusion / correction in October 2002.

I never took pictures of the titanium implants that used to be inside me. Much less blogged about it. Maybe it's hightime I do that, just for memory's sake.

This is a photo of the xray on the broken spinal implants which were taken in February 2008. The implants have been broken for some time and apparently became loose after all that time, especially since I gave birth. The implants caused infection in the area surrounding the spine, and caused high fever (on a daily basis) for nearly four months until I agreed to have them taken out in April 30th.

These are the implants, consisting of two long titanium rods which were screwed in on either side of my spinal cord, from T1 to L4. That means the first thoracic vertebrae (near the nape of the neck) until the fourth lumbar vertebrae (which is your lower back). Mine is an S-shaped curve, therefore it involves practically the entire length of spinal cord. In other words, the two long rods are.... very long. It ran the entire length of my spine from T1 to L4. Some patients only have a thoracic curve or only a lumbar curve, so their fusion (the spinal area which is operated on) will not be as lengthy. For instance, in one of my cousin's case (yes I've two other cousins with Scoliosis but both are doing fine with implants still on their spine), she has a lumbar curve and was operated only on the lumbar area, which means the long rods on her spine are only half as long as mine.

If I had to guess, I'd say the long titanium rods are perhaps about 40 cm long..? Not too sure about that but they're definitely longer than those long rulers kids use in school.

The screws and "pins" (can't remember exactly what they're called) were used to screw / pin the long rods onto the spinal cord. In other words, they help hold the rods in place. From the xray above you can see that the screw on my L4 vertebrae had broken, which caused the rods to slowly losen up because mother nature is after all stronger than titanium rods. By "mother nature" I mean the "natural" S-shape of my spine, which was apparently fighting to be held in place by the titanium rods and screws.

So why do I even bother taking pictures of the implants, and talking about them? Do I enjoy reminiscing and glorifying in the fact that I survived two major spinal surgeries and am still walking and living normally?

The truth is this. I want to remember and never forget. I want Gibran to remember and never forget. That we are small and Allah's fate is big and we cannot fight it. What we can do is to live with it and accept it as best as we can because this is what we do as "hamba" Allah. God's subjects.

To remember that all good things be it good or bad all come from God.

To remember that whatever bad that comes can be turned into something good and you must learn to live with it as best as you can.

To remember that Allah gives some, and Allah takes some. You can never have it all in this life.

And lastly, in the depth of my heart, I want to record this for whoever out there experiencing the same situation. Be it my blood or strangers. Maybe one day one of my grandkids would experience this. I don't know what God has in store. But I want to say my say, and my say is this; you can live with Scoliosis and spinal pain, but you have to have faith and be strong.

For God will help those who help themselves, Insyaallah.

Our fate is written, but not the way how you deal with it. You can accept it with grace, or you can moan and condemn yourself to unhappiness.

Like I said, I don't know if this is the end of the road. Scoliosis is a life-long thing, and one does not heal from Scoliosis. So I suppose in my own way, I am also writing this for myself. To tell myself to always remember that one day life can be good... and then the next day everything can change in a blink of an eye.

The titanium implants are now out here with me, to constantly remind me of all this.

When You Least Want It!

2009-04-22T11:49:00.000+08:00

Have you ever gone out looking like a pauper / bag-lady / whatever-not-flattering-term-you-wanna-use-please-insert-here.... and then you bump into a blogger friend or someone you haven't seen in quite a while?

My karma's funny that way. Mind you, not funny ha-ha but funny NOT-funny, you know??!

Last Saturday we made an impromptu decision to go to One Utama because H needed to pick up his suit from Zara (a birthday + anniversary present from yours truly, ehemmmm). So I hurriedly threw whatever clothes I could get my hands on the quickest, tenyeh-tenyeh some light make-up on my face, put on the first hijab I found which seemed to match whatever clothes I'd put on, and hurriedly got Gibran and Gibran's stuff ready. As usual since Gib was born, I definitely spent more time getting him ready, rather than myself. Huhuuuhuuuu... sad case lah!

A few hours later as we ran out of fuel and about ready to head home (but not without some Roti Boy bread), into the lift we went to get some Roti Boy before heading home. As we struggled to get our "cute" bodies into the lift, I suddenly noticed a somewhat familiar face grinning at me. It turned out to be Sasha!

Hey Sasha, you look different than your pictures lah! And your kids are so cute! ;)

So despite not looking my best, I am definitely glad to have bumped into you! Hehehehee. Managed to chat also for a few minutes, which was nice :)

Then the real test happened yesterday.

We were heading home from my parents' house at 9.30 at night, when Mom (who was spending the night at our place) suddenly suggested we stop at Giant to get some stuff. I was dressed in a glorious "Environmental ABCs" t-shirt which I had had since I was thirteen years old and used to wear to the school's house practice and such. I figured since it was quite late on a Tuesday night, what are the chances of bumping into anyone we know lah?

Boy, was I wrong!

I had only one measly-looking scarf in the car which I threw on my head, and I even managed to touch my shiny nose with a spot of compact powder before rushing out of the car to make our quick purchases.

Lifts bring a unique sense of karma for me. I tend to bump into people in them.

As we were once again struggling to fit into an elivator, and heaving sighs of relief that everyone managed to fit into the small space, a lady wearing a fancy office outfit (obviously looking as if she just came back from work) with perfectly applied make-up suddenly called out...

"Nina... is that you...?"

Huhuhuuuuuuu. It was my junior from secondary school. We used to hang out while we attended curriculum activities and gossiped about boys back in the days when I constantly wore shorter-than-shorts cut-offs, Nirvana t-shirts and black nail polish.

So there I was in the greatest outfit of all times, chatting away as if I looked like a million bucks. I'm sure she'd seen me in this t-shirt before, in our teen days during one of those curriculum activities, and perhaps she might've even been amazed ("Wow! How thrifty! Still wearing clothes from our teenage days!").. with make-up-less face and drabby hijab and pants (mind you, I think hijabs are fashionable, just not the one I was wearing!) which may have further amazed her ("Wow! From a black nail polish-wearing girl who even wore make-up to house practice... to such a simple, fuss-less lady!").......

Goodness. Karma is a funny thing.

Lesson learned: Never ever go to public places with your house clothes.

I Need to Learn

2009-04-20T01:22:00.000+08:00

Is it true that if a mother does not sleep at night because of caring of her sick child, that her pahala is similar to freeing 70 slaves?

I am ignorant and need to learn. I need guidance and direction. So help me God, and those of you out there?

H's cousin Abang Rizal helped out by sending some materials for me to study. Thanks Abang Rizal, I appreciate them! Although I am ashamed to say that I have not managed to go through all of them yet, I can honestly say I'm starting to make progress with my life, Insyaallah :)

But progress and learning should be continuous. Lollies, ada any advise tak? Where should I start this religious/spiritual quest?

A mother indeed gets a lot of pahala from raising her children. A form of Ibadah indeed. If only I knew better, I wouldn't have complained so much about that first year when Gibran was always ill and we feared we'd lose him every time he was sick.

So there. All the more reason for this much needed quest.

A then-ill Gibran reaching out to Mummy.

One Year Ago

2009-04-15T01:11:00.000+08:00

Around this time one year ago, I started losing sensation on my left leg and could not walk. I had to be walked to work by Mom or Aunty. They'd wait for me to finish my lectures, then walked me back to the car. Looking back, I wish I'd taken their advice to get a pair of crutches or a walker. That way I wouldn't have troubled them so much. Thank you Mak and Aunty for your unconditional love and support.

Around this time one year ago, I hardly slept for months and months while I battled the pain caused by the infected titanium implants with supplements and painkillers of all sorts. H would massage my legs everynight before bed, and a few more times through the night when the pain was too much to bear. He took care of Gibran the minute he came back from work, he took over the night-time caring as well, and went to work hardly rested for months. So I wasn't the only one suffering from lack of sleep. I knew he was awake and watching me all those nights I spent in front of the TV or the Ogawa massage chair, trying to ease the pain and get at least a few minutes' sleep. Thank you H for the neverending love and support you've bestowed upon me all these years through health and sicknesses.

Around this time one year ago, I was convinced my days with Gibran were numbered. I kid you not.

Everyday I try to remember all this, and how lucky I am to have pulled through a serious situation such as this and came out okay. Alhamdulillah. Thank you, God, for giving me the much needed mental and emotional strength, for giving me a loving family who never tired of taking care of me, for friends who never made / make me feel abnormal or unloved, for the rezeki you gave so much so that I never had to worry about not being able to pay for medical bills. Thank you Allah for this life.

One year on, the tingling sensation down my spine and entire left side is a constant reminder of how fragile life is and how lucky we are if we get to live this life with that realisation. Like an enlightenment. Because then we'd learn to treasure every day we have in this world with our loved ones.

The bed where I spent most of my time in, and Gib would "visit" and spend time with me for short periods of time when health permitted.

Now I get a second chance to be in his life.

Premonition

2009-04-08T01:35:00.000+08:00

I've watched "Premonition" a few times by now. And it gets me everyyyytime. Don't ask me why, ever since Ninie passed away 3 years ago, and since I had Gibran, some things get to me. Movies like "Freedomland" and "Premonition". Losing one of your oldest bestfriends and then having a baby whom you think you'd lose that first week you had him can do that to you, I suppose. Those things change a person.

Losing a spouse or a child is a scary thought but the honest truth is that it can happen to anyone, right?

Busy With Life

2009-03-26T11:47:00.001+08:00

With the current situation at home, it's all I can do to manage one blog, much less two. I guess blogging does take a back seat right now and I'm focusing on Gib's blog because things with Gib move at lightning speed. He changes everyday and it's tough to keep track of his progresss and make notes of the memorable stuff! So this personal blog has taken a place in the trunk of my car, even lagi teruk than the back seat, right? Heheheh.

I will try harder as things get better with the new maid. Promise :)

However, as I write this, it is worthy to say ALHAMDULILLAH, God is kind to me for giving me a new maid that is competent, is kind towards our active + talkative + demanding li'l fella, and is willing to learn and work hard. Praise God. I am indeed blessed in many ways.

To Train a Maid

2009-03-12T16:36:00.000+08:00

We got our new maid last Friday and so far it's been so-so. Some things she's good at, some things she's not. One thing for sure, she's no Nila and I'm trying hard not to compare them. Nila also has her positive as well as negative sides, as all us humans do.

I know not many friends read this blog of mine yet but I do have a query to ask all of you out there.

How do you train a new maid to do things your way? I do so welcome any tips you guys have.

The main thing for me is Gibran's safety and the maid's hygiene. More often than not, hygiene is always a major issue for me because.. what can I say. I'm fussy about cleanliness. I think about bacteria and get grossed out if the same sponge is used to wash plates as well as the sink. I have separate cloths for wiping the countertops, the floors and other things concerning Gibran (like his high table and his toys). I don't like the dish towel to be put near the other cloths, because can you imagine the bacteria that comes from the floor ending up on your plates? Bluergh. Don't get me started. Talking about this will put me off my next meal.

So. You get the picture. Yes I am fussy about cleanliness and all those gross stuff.

But trust me when I say that I have been trying to be less picky and often turn a blind eye on how things are done as long as things get done, and everything looks spic and span. I try to pretend I don't care as much but who am I kidding. Once if I "kantoi" (catch them!) the maids in the act of doing something in what I think is unclean method..... I have a hard time holding it together. Pfft.

The truth is people like me should probably not have help because we like to do things ourselves! A voice in my head tells me that this is probably why God bestowed me with a trying spine. He has bigger plans on my controlling nature. Wallahualam (only God knows).

Therapy

2009-03-09T15:40:00.000+08:00

I was feeling depressed about being cooped up in the house with the two help (the old maid and the new one) and Gibran who was not keen on being cooperative today. I also had (have, still..) a stuffed nose and sepet-feeling eyes because of lack of sleep (for some reason Gib was tossing and turning like mad yesterday so I could hardly sleep). Suffice to say, I felt like nothing less than crap. Of the lowest sort. So what did I do?

I baked.

I tried a new banana cake recipe because Dad as usual went mad buying fruits for us (this week it was bananas, enough to feed Martha Monkey and friends), this one calls for oats, desicated coconuts and chocolate chips. H's eyes nearly popped out when I mentioned the coconut, because, he dislikes coconuts. I however, think it'll turn out good. Baking soothes me like nothing else can.

When Gib acts up or when I start feeling sorry for myself, on days when good ol' spine feels stiff and makes me feel like I'm a thousand years old..

I bake.

Because at the end of the day, something good and enticing will come out of that oven, making the house smell gorgeous, and proving (to me, at least) that I am worth something. Because there is this one thing that I'm really good at.

:)

Crazy Roti Man

2009-03-03T19:02:00.000+08:00

I dunno why lately I've been sleeping really weirdly. I sleep REALLY lightly sometimes, but REALLY "heavily" (like earthquake also won't wake up!) some other times.

But nearly every morning, Gibran will fidget like mad and I will definitely wake from whatever reverie I was in when our breadman comes honking. His is one of those air-horn-like horns.. I've no idea how to describe it, you know lah how rotimen horns go honking on and on .. in my head I have an image of a fat black horn that honks with the press of a hand.

He comes by some time in between 8.30 to 9 a.m. and would not stop honking till the maid opens the front door. Sometimes I can hear Nila running to the front of the house all the way from the back of the house.

I've asked Nila if she'd told him not to honk so persistently (two or three honks enough la fella..), and she said she has. But he continues to honk and honk and honk.

This begs the question of whether I should even continue to buy from this irritating, crazy roti man!

Loss. Again.

2009-03-01T17:38:00.001+08:00

My friend in Australia lost her baby after a week of slight bleeding. This is her third miscarriage. Sigh. All I can do is mourn silently and pray from afar. I will be calling her again later.

Yesterday Nani came over because she and husband (lets call him "I.B.") decided to buy over the Sony digital camera that H won a few months back. She's now 10 weeks pregnant and it's looking good. Gynae said that if the baby made it past 9 weeks after all that ordeal (burst appendix, dengue, blood infection..), it may very well make it full-term, God willing.

I was making Kueh Bakar for a family dinner at H's parents' house yesterday night, and Nani got a whift of it. She however left before the kueh was fully baked, so today I'm making another batch of the kueh especially for her. Orang mengandung takut kempunan pula nanti.

If I could I would send over thousands of kueh bakar, or whatever else it takes if only it could make up for the loss of yet another baby. But it can't and it won't. I just pray Allah sends them much strength.

Clouds

2009-02-28T00:08:00.000+08:00

Some of my earliest memories were of watching the clouds past by on long flights, cuddled up against the coarse MAS blanket, nose stuffed and congested, eyes puffy, ears popping every now and then, but masked by some sort of sweet soothing music that Mak had put on my headphones to distract me from various in-flight discomforts.

I didn't particular like long flights, but it's always something special if your Dad's the one piloting the plane. You get to sit in the cockpit during take-offs and landings (remember, this was way before 9/11 happened and airlines started imposing all sorts of safety rules), stewardesses could never be nasty to you coz you're the pilot's baby and you get to sit first class for your yearly free tickets. But the most amazing and awesome feeling was being awestruck at how important and amazing your Dad's job is. Being the "head" of the flight, a daughter would get the illusion (or "delusion" to be more precise) that her Dad is the most important thing / person ever in the airplane.

Gosh. I miss those clouds. I took this picture during our Sabah trip last year to remind me to not take these sort of things for granted anymore.

Dad'll be retiring from flying in 3 years' time when he turns 65. I bet he'll miss those clouds even more than I do.

Babies Who Came Through

2009-02-27T01:37:00.000+08:00

A friend who has experienced two miscarriages is now having slight bleeding on her third pregnancy which is going into its 7th week.

At our Arabic class earlier tonight, the lecturer mentioned that his wife is going through a similar situation. She is in her second month of pregnancy and with the bleeding, is also experiencing severe cramps.

And in both situations, the doctors say there's little they can do.

It makes me thankful and amazed for the babies who came through. Because it all comes down to the unbelievable miracle of fate.

What's meant to be is meant to be, MasyaAllah.

Picture taken in Melbourne, September 2008.

Never Underestimate Instant Paste!!

2009-02-24T01:54:00.001+08:00

I haven't been able to blog as much as I wish I could because of reasons I've explained in Gib's blog.. so this blog didn't take off as I wanted it too. But nevermind :) All in good time. I have a feeling this place is going to be mostly about FOOD. Because I love food and can't stop experimenting and can't stop talking about it. Heh.

In particular, I like to talk about food that is suitable for the little ones.

But being a lazy cook, I just have to make something clear. Never ever underestimate the potential of good instant paste!

Many a meal in our home is made from instant paste because sometimes I just don't have the time to hover over the stove too much. The little fella isn't a big napper so he doesn't nap more than an hour and a half (tops!), so some days this just leaves me with very little time to cook + bake + surf + blog all in the same time frame. Hehe.

One of my all-time favourites is flavoured rice. Mom used to tell me the trick was in using good quality basmati. How right she is. I use Taj Mahal usually, but recently (pocket a bit high and dry this month!) I bought Giant-brand basmati (beras mati?) and it was surprisingly good. So maybe I'll stick to this for the time being.

If you're looking for something super quick, not too rich, definitely NOT spicy (just slightly spiced, suitable for toddlers because most beryani pastes out there are very spicy! Honestly. Go ahead and try em out..)... go for Maggi Nasi Beryani instant paste.

I'll put up the picture of the instant paste packet tomorrow, along with an update on changes I make when cooking the beryani.

Don't be a cooking snob! Try those instant pastes!

What's New, Pussycat?

2009-02-23T01:27:00.000+08:00

This is :)

It weighs just a little over one kilo (approximately 1.2 kilos), so now I don't have to worry about straining my back when I carry my lappie. Yay!

Promises

2009-02-21T11:42:00.000+08:00

I promise not to continuously count all the negatives.
I promise to always remind myself of all the positives.
So I promise not to clutter this blog with any more negatives (if I can help it!).