Fish Mongers

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.

The Year 2011

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!

Friends of the Heart

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

But alas, even old friends change.

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

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

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

Back then I thought it was such a joke.

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

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

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

Realisation of mortality changes you. Big time.

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

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

It was a huge reality check.

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

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

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

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


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


Mummy friends help me remain sane.


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

How did your life change...?

Having One, Or Having None At All

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, bring on the punches.

Everyday Promises

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

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

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

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

Sighhhh.

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

Shoo. Go away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ramadan. Puasa.

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

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

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

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

And yet I look forward to Ramadan all year.

May this Ramadan be good to us.

Selamat Menyambut Ramadan, y'alls.

The Ridiculous Need for a Maid

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So there.

I hang my white kitchen towels and give in.

One maid coming right up.

And please Allah, let her be sane and good.

The Biggest Loser Year

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

Want to hear my progress?

Lets see...

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

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

Woopee.

Hmff.