Law & Order SVU

I've been a fan. For the number of years it's been on TV, I've been a fan. That's... many, many years.

I got me a new laptop. H gave me season 13's episodes. Lo and behold, my favourite Detective Stabler left the show.

Why oh why!!

Not that he is hot or anything. But I've been watching him since I was in secondary school. That's more than 15 years ago. Darn it.

Of course things change. Remember Family Ties? Full House? Fresh Prince of Bel Air? They were so good we thought they would last forever. And then there was Buffy the Vampire Slayer, gosh how I felt so empty when it ended.

It's not as if I don't cope to changes well. I cope with changes in life well. I try to redha. Accept that changes are part of life. Maybe I am taking this too hard because TV is escapism. A fantasy world that you feel.. well, perhaps you can control it. 


Blueh. Right. What nonsense to be affected by TV!

Hiatus Over!

Phew..spider webs all over this blog. It has been too long!

 So many have happened. Too many.

 The spinal curve has increased. I am back to 45 degrees upper curve and 50 degrees lower curve. Exactly the measurement I had at 14 years old when they wanted to schedule a surgery for me without my parents' consent. There I was sitting in that drabby room in Universiti Hospital, and the Profs and their minion-doctors (whoops..mean mean mean of me) were discussing my curves as if I wasn't there, and as if my aunt (who was accompanying me while my parents snd sister were overseas for a holiday) was chopped liver. Images of them talking like this while cutting through my spine went through my head and made me brave enough to speak up and said no, I want to wait till my parents get home. During that time, you never question the doctors. You go there, you do whatever they want and listen to whatever they say and follow them without arguments. I was done. I wasn't going to fight them, or even hear them anymore. I chose not to go back. My parents, unaware of the risk of an increasing scoliosis, agreed.

Fast forward 19 years later, after two surgeries, a history of partial paralysis due to infected implants and a husband and two kids to think of now aside from myself, the fight for normality (or something like it) goes on. I go to the spinal physio twice a week for pain management. I go to the gym three times a week for pain management. I breastfeed in weird positions to avoid more pain incurring. I pray everyday for strength and good days, and for old age that won't trouble my kids.

Aside from myself, there's H. And Gibran. And Ilan.

 H is busy busy busy. Work is demanding, as usual lecturing is an overworked-underpaid career. But he is happy and I am sincerely happy that he's found a good place for himself. He goes to work at 7am everyday, comes home when it's nearly dark, and stays up late at night to prep for lectures and do other stuff. I pray he always has good health!

 Gibran is spending his last year in kindy. He's struggling to read, so I try to spend time doing revision (reading English, bacaan melayu and maths) with him everyday. A little bit of something esch day. I asked a teacher to come in once a week to the house to tutor him, for variety's sake. He likes her and enjoys their lessons. He's also taking tennis and iqra' (Quran reading) class in the kindy. Teacher Jack says he's a natural with tennis. On Saturdays he goes to Muay Thai, and we try to bring him swimming whenever we're free.

 Ilan is a Ponyo. That, I shall explain in the other blog soon ;) Ilan... is even more active and resilient than Gibran ever was. If people thought Gibran was hyper, I shudder thinking what people wil think of Ilan. He cannot sit still even for half a second. He eats like a champion but is petite compared to the brother. At 8 months old, he is only 7.5 kgs. But as long as he is healthy, I am happy.

Then there's work. I've started part-timing again, which means even less time for anything else.

Between the four of us, there is little free time at hand. Sometimes I an on my feet all day and only sit down during mealtimes or when I'm expressing milk for Ilan. It can get quite stressful and chaotic around here.

But hey! Who says idle is good...?

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 32nd

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.

A Letter to Malaysian Marathon Runners

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

Dear Marathon Runners,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks for reading.

Yours Sincerely,

A slow and steady walker-jogger.

Tired!

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

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

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

Gosh, am I making sense at all??

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

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

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

So what are you tired of?

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.

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.

Nervous

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

Bleah...

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

Boleh ke ni...??



Nervous, nervous, nervous!

Deactivating FB

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

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

Ah bliss.

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

"DEACTIVATE ACCOUNT".

Done.

Shutting Down the Blogs

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

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

Do You Ever Wonder...?

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

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

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

Do you ever wonder how you got here..

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

Changes in My Comfort Zone

Did you hear about Jusco One Utama closing down soon?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh no.

Give me good ol' Jusco any day.

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

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

The 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.

To Do List #1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

New Year's Resolutions

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

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

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

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

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

The Ambition that Sleeps

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.

Too Jaded for Love

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.

On "Housewives"

"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

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..