Sleepy After Lunch

I just had a HEAVY lunch. An Aussie Beef Burger at this shop called Chillies Espresso at Sooka Sentral. And OMG, I am full to the max! Alhamdulillah. I actually forced a dear colleague of mine to treat for me lunch because he recently got a promotion. I think it’s only fair because I deemed it as fair. All is right in my world, I suppose. And now I am sleepy. Very sleepy that I had to make coffee just so that I don’t doze off. And I suddenly feel that all my clothes are tight. Well, my pants here for 10 years are also feeling tight about my waist. An indication also that I have put on [sigh]…. Oh well. What can you do.

I am actually guilty of not updating the blog. It’s been ages and ages, but I just seem to not be able to find a time to update any story. When for actual fact, I’ve got LOADS to tell (listening to Paula Abdul’s Rush Rush at the moment – I love this song and I even love the video clip coz it featured Keanu Reeves during his younger days. Yeah.. I am sucker for Keanu Reeves). But I guess I’ll just have to find a time to write them. You know, just share my thoughts.

The one thing which I am so inclined to share with the rest of the world is the request to abolish PTPTN and give education free, I guess from primary to tertiary education. I’m all up for that, but who’s going to fund it? Don’t expect a taxpayer like me to fund it when I’ve got other things to pay. But just talking about study loan, I had such loan for my tertiary education. And I was requested to pay the amount, about RM46k of it in my second year of joining the labour market. But I paid. Every month without missing a payment. I believe that if I pay my part, the money that I pay will get the chance to be used on other students who need them. So I don’t mind. To me, what goes round comes around. I was blessed enough to have had the loan offered to me, and I suppose that this is the time for me to give it back. Not to say that I have a big fat paycheck every month, which I don’t, but I just feel that it’s something which I must do. And after 10 years of paying, with no glitch, thanks to Ayah who made sure that I don’t miss any payment… Alhamdulillah, my final installment will be paid Insya Allah in July 2012. And that marks the end of my study loan.

To me, I’m fine with the PTPTN loan, but of course I think they shouldn’t charge any interest so I think the government should do away with the interest-admin charges. And to those who are asking to abolish the PTPTN loan, come on lah. It isn’t much to pay. Just think of the upside. How the repayment can help others who need them. Not all of us come from rich families (well, I don’t) and things like the PTPTN is so much better than bank study loans.

Well, those are my thoughts anyway.

Kepimpinan Melalui Teladan

I had a rude encounter this morning with a very terrible driver. I was sending Marsya to school. We were late so the back gate was already closed. So Bie went to the front gate where most of the traffic was coz that’s the main gate that parents sent their kids to. After dropping Marsya off (luckily the prefects were not out yet, so she didn’t get her name written like yesterday), we wanted to drive away but we couldnt because our way was blocked by this car. The thing is, this driver was blocking our way. But because he didn’t want to queue up like all the other cars, he resorted to the most simple thing that his pathetic mind could think of, which I think was very selfish, he stopped his car on my side of the road, preventing me from moving. I actually had to wait for the driver to get his kids off the car. I was mad. Really mad. And of course, I showed the hands gestures. Not rude swear gestures, but told him to move coz this is my way and I want to drive off. But he wouldn’t move. He kept his engine on and made signs in his car asking us to move!! I mean, COME ON..!! It’s my bloody way. Even if I go to the police, the police would say that I was correct. I had really wanted to get off the car to tell him off. But Bie did the noble thing and relented. He swerved the car to the other side of the road and got back into our side of the road leaving the sick car there. And all the while, he was waving his arms about in the car, obviously mad at us for a mistake that he did. It was OUR side of the road. Queue up like the others. But no, for reasons that are obvious selfish, he wouldn’t budge. Silly, sick man.

That made me really frustrated. How are we going to teach our children positive values if the parents themselves are not doing it? And it’s sad that there are many parents like that out there right now. Their everyday actions are being watched by their children and later on, their children will also do that, thinking that, that is the right thing to do. I’m not saying that we’re perfect, but we try our best to instill good and positive values in our children. Things like saying thank you for every little thing, be it at the person who is holding the door out for them or the cashier whom we just gave our money to. We teach them not to be selfish and to always queue up and wait for their turn to use or play the slides. Not push and simply cut queue. But other parents do not teach that. And it is apparent sometimes when at playgrounds, these kids just move their way to the front and cut queue without feeling any guilt or remorse. Who do we blame when that happens? Shouldn’t we be instilling these values first so that our children can emulate and instill them in their lives? Shouldn’t we ‘walk the talk’? It’s just so frustrating. And it’s a Friday morning. And I think I am looking fabulous in my new Punjabi suit. Yeah [smiling…], I am wearing a Punjabi suit today. And I like it. I think I look great, well at least to my eyes, who cares what others think. And I am not going to let what happened this morning to affect how good I feel about myself today.

It was A Litte Weird

I had lunch with my old gang today. It’s our state-of-the-art culinary friends, if you can call it that. We used to have lunch at fancy places, comment on the food and services and just do stuff, you know. I was even supposed to come up with s scrap book on all the places that we went to. I always looked forward to these lunches because apart from enjoying the food, I also get to enjoy the company. Today’s lunch was actually just a meet-up. Nothing fancy, but just a meet-up to see old friends and chit-chat.

I was late because I had a meeting with a potential investor. So naturally, I had to make a grand entrance. Sitting with that familiar crowd is somehow very strange for me. It felt weird. I acted normal, alright. At first I didn’t know how to react. What was I supposed to do? Ignore him? Just say the normal courtesy hi? What? I don’t know. All I know is that it felt weird. Really weird. I know it had to happen sometime. If not today, it would probably happen at other times. MIRA workshops maybe, or Invest Malaysia. But the bottom line is that, it is bound to happen. And I have to face it someday. And there he was sitting across of me looking uncomfortable and suddenly out of place. Like I said, I tried to act normal, but I just couldn’t. But being a good actress that I am, I acted like its nothing. I didn’t have to talk to him. There were other people I could talk to. And I guess that helped.

Looking back at it, the lunch I mean, I felt sad. Sad that I somehow cannot bridge the gap. The feeling is there. It’s not hatred, but it’s just this hidden feeling, gnawing at the back of your head, knowing that things will never be the same again. I don’t hate him. I don’t. Hate is such a strong negative word. But there is this wall between us. And this imaginary wall will continue to be there for a long time yet. And that made me feel sad. We were close. Very close. I could just call him up and talk nonsense about anything. But now, there’s just no more of that. It doesn’t work that way anymore. I couldn’t do that anymore. I don’t know about him; whether he shares my sentiment, but that is what I feel at the moment. And I know that this is the type of feeling that doesn’t go away readily. Kind of sad, eh?

[sigh]… oh well. Life has to go on. This feeling will probably disappear with time. But by that time, I have a feeling that it’d be a bit difficult to bridge the gap. Things will not be the same. But what can you do. I have my life and he has his. Work will always be work. And friends come and go. True friends will stay, though. And at this point in time, I don’t know.

Come 2012

I know it’s a bit too late to wish Happy New Year to everyone, but I have been tied up with a lot of things. It’s a lot of headaches. Work, home, kids… you name it. Everything under the sun. But I am not going to dwell on those items at the moment. All I want to share with you is how great it is to be alive today on this ‘bumi bertuah’. Without realizing it, I am already in my 30s (not sharing where in my 30s because, face it, I hate admitting my age to anyone, let alone the whole world) and I have three kids. One aged 7, the other turning 5 this year and the youngest will be turning 1 next month. Time sure does fly fast. And I am drawn to an email I received and read recently on people’s different perception of time. Some see it as very long and very dragging, but others just seem to sail through it fast. And how very true that is.

I am hoping that 2012 will be a good year for me and the family. I pray that whatever ventures that Bie is working on will be fruitful. He has so much passion and very highly driven. I hate to see that fiery passion die down just like that. I think he deserves much more. He has ideas and can be innovative, but… hey, it’s the business world. You win some, you lose some. It’s frustrating to read about your ideas and brainchild in the newspaper, knowing just several months back, you gave a similar proposal to someone who you can trust, hoping that YOU can initiate the idea on ground. But alas, what is not meant to be, is just not meant to be. Allah says it’s not time yet, so he waits. Although I do fear that he will become grouchy and frustrated with the whole thing, but Allah has certainly given him a very strong heart and a very tough perseverance quality. And it’s been 5 years now. 5 tough years, but we wait. And pray. And hope that good will cross our paths. And like any other beginning of the year, I hope that this is the year. A year that the light at the end of the tunnel is not merely a flicker in the horizon but something bright for all to see, Insya Allah.

I also vow to update my blog on a frequent basis… (yeah, like I’ve heard that before). But a resolution is nonetheless a resolution. So I will try. My best. So don’t hope anymore long updates for me. Frequent means shorter. Unless I need to steam out certain things, then trust me, that update will be a very long one. But I will try to lessen complaints and update more happening events, like the visit to Pusat Sains Negara with the kids and conversing with Actroid, Malaysia’s 1^st robot (from Japan though), very life-like and beautiful. Of course that’s only the first version. The ones they use in Japan is a lot better-looking. Or the time that I took my parents to The Curve to buy a stroller for Ayin’s baby. Yeah, my brother just had another baby boy last month. He wanted a girl, but he got a boy instead. So I guess he’ll keep on trying. But I love Haffy. He is a handsome baby. We were at the The Curve during the CNY break and the parking space was practically empty. We could actually choose where we want to park the car. How cool was that. Or the time where I first sent Marsya to school. She’s in Standard 1 now. Can you imagine that? 7 years ago she was just a wee tiny baby. A lot of drama (for her Umi) and definitely a completely new experience. And many more. So yes, this year I am going to go all positive. Yeah to Ija..!!

This Is For YOU Aboo

Aboo, a dear friend during my PPP/ITM years, seems to be a fan of my blog (hehehehe… Boo, can I say that?). Whenever I haven’t updated my blog (which seems a lot these days), Aboo will be dropping me an email, wondering where I have been and asking why I haven’t been updating my blog. Well, Aboo, I have been VERY busy. It’s like whenever work at the office finishes, work at home begins. And it’s a full cycle. Never ending. So I am spared very little time to pen down any thought at all on my blog. Although I have to admit that I have mixed feelings of everything at the moment which needs to be unleashed, I just haven’t been able to put it down in writing. It’s all in my head, floating, not really going anywhere. Kind a sad isn’t it. Well, this is for you [hugs].

Life at the moment for me, isn’t great. But please don’t get me wrong. I love my life. I love my family. And my daughter continuously on a daily basis reminds me to be thankful to Allah. She just learnt the concept of ‘bersyukur’ at her school. So she is constantly spelling it out for me. Talk about parroting the adults, well she’s good at that alright. But life is not all a bed of roses. Glitches do occur. These glitches, or testings of course come from Allah SWT. And at the moment, I haven’t been able to get rid of that gnawing feeling in my heart. It’s there, like a hidden monster under Loch Ness (exaggerating a little, I know).

Tiredness is probably the main contributing factor. Clutteredness is also another factor. Work at the office is a LOT. One after the other. I can’t really blame the boss because he himself has to answer to a bigger boss. And I seriously get what he means. But there’s just so much that an individual can do. But of course I can’t complain. I can’t show that it is a weakness. I must show that I am competent in all that I do. So whenever the boss pushes me into doing everything (I feel that now), I just made a face. Inside, I felt like drowning. Drowning in the midst of paperwork and endless meetings. As usual, it’s the end of the year. There are KPIs to be met. And it is likely as well that some of the KPIs may never be met, in view of certain circumstances. But we just need to push them anyway, hoping that the bigger boss will have mercy on us, because we have proved that we have done a lot of work in relation to achieving those KPIs. And that is tiring.

The minute I reached home, I sighed tiredly looking at the dirty clothes in the basket, cleaned clothes which need to be ironed and pressed in Aini’s room (we still call it her room even when she is no longer there – I don’t know why), and those which are still in the travelling bags (my children followed Maksu back to Taiping last week) in the living room. Unfortunately Bie didn’t even make an attempt to clear the bags and put them aside. I didn’t want to start any argument because that can be tiring as well. So I vowed that I would do it later, when I am not too tired or involved in other routine chores. This reminded me so much of an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond where Raymond just left his luggage on the stairs and expected Debbie to sort it out, as usual. But because Debbie was also adamant not to deal with it that time round, the luggage was left there at that same exact spot for two weeks. That scene replayed in my head MANY times. Talk about the irony of it.

Raising three children alone while still working and trying to climb the corporate ladder is also very challenging. Executive by day and Bibik/Mother/Wife by night. A very interesting career path. So kudos to all Mothers out there who have managed to achieve all with flying colours. It is not easy and I think we ought to receive recognition for it. Of course Bie helped with the children. If he wasn’t there, I think I’d be even worse.

I don’t mean to be sarcastic about the whole thing. But that is what I am feeling at the moment. It’s all mixed up like a blended baby’s food. Talking about baby food, I feel guilty for not preparing food for Hayani. I am forcing her to eat instant porridge and she hates it. The nursery told me that she doesn’t like instant porridge food. She wants rice porridge. One that I would have to cook (sigh). Oh yes, for those that do not know, I don’t send Hayani to Maksu’s in USJ anymore. It’s too far away. I waste a lot of time on the road. So I have sent her to the nearest nursery and pray to Allah that they are taking good care of her there. See, all these things contribute to the mixed feelings I have been having. And I don’t like it. To add to that, I had a scare from my son Raqib. I don’t think I even want to share it here for fear of shedding a tear. But something happened at home (big time coz Bie wasn’t around at that time and I had to face it with Marsya and Hayani, literally alone), and I was forced to send him to the hospital in a stranger’s car. Blessed the stranger. May Allah reward him for his help. I was traumatized by the incident. Still am. And I cannot think about it without the feeling of being transported back to the event and feeling like it just happened yesterday. So no, I am not going there.

I am always talking about taking a break. I am longing for it. But of course there are also other factors which are hindering me from doing that. But I really do hope for light at the end of the tunnel to appear very brightly soon. I need it. Insya Allah.

Yes, life is not great at the moment. But as a mentally-sound person, I need to take it with a pinch of salt and make the best of it. I have been doing that anyway. I don’t want to crack under pressure. It’s not healthy. Like I said, these are testings from the ultimate highest being. He wants to see how we fair under His tests. Besides, I need to ‘bersyukur’ taking the cue from my daughter because I still have a great, supportive family. Be it my nucleus family, my parents, in-laws, Maksu and Acik. They were always there for me when I need them. But of course, I have to learn to tap into them; seek help, which unfortunately is not my style unless I am VERY desperate. Oh well.

So Aboo, I’m going to stop here, for now. I do hope the above update is enough for you though. Take care, darling. Hugs and kisses.

Tired Nya…

I have welcomed Ramadhan with an open arm, but I am embarrassed to admit that I haven’t been able to focus on Ramadhan as much as I had wanted to. My time is spent on the road from Melawati to USJ and back again as there is where I am currently sending my baby. I didn’t want to. I wanted to send Hayani to a nearby Taska, but Bie wouldn’t hear of it. He is comfortable sending Hayani to my Maksu’s regardless of the distance because he feels that his daughter is well taken care of compared to sending her to a Taska next door. So he doesn’t mind the daily travelling. But I do. I think I have had it up to here (imagine sticking your hand to just above your head level) with all these daily travelling. I couldn’t have Iftar at home and am forever reaching the house at 11pm, on a daily basis. I am already up at 4.15am to prepare for sahur, and will not be sleeping until 11pm or 12am of the same day. And I am tired. The fact that I don’t go to sleep right away (cleaning the kitchen area, sorting out the kids’ clothes, etc, etc) contributes to this tiredness even further. I am also forever coughing and my antibody seems to be on the low.

I know I shouldn’t be complaining. I had wanted to be treated at par with the other male managers at the department, but FIVE approval papers to be done during Ramadhan is just too much, four of them being on different subject matters altogether, for different meetings i.e. development committee, board and audit committee. So at work, I strained my brain for excessive thinking (and during Ramadhan too) whereas at home, I am just physically challenged. I think my illness is caused by this tiredness. Because I was coughing non-stop, I had to go for an x-ray and a blood test just to make sure that there was no other illness or disease that can be dangerous. Even then, the doctor diagnosed me with mild bronchitis. How scary is that. And because I was sick, Hayani was also affected by the same illness. No amount of breast milk could have prevented it from affecting her because my antibody was on the low. She was admitted to the Pantai Ampang hospital last week due to bronchitis related illness. My poor baby. It’s so sad to see her little body coughing and having difficulties in breathing due to excessive phlegm in her chest cavities. Of course the phlegm had to be sucked out, so little tubes went into her mouth and nose just to serve that purpose. But Alhamdulillah that she didn’t have to be on the drip or anything; all medicines are directly fed via the baby syringe, not via needle poking into her blood veins. So at least that’s something. Alhamdulillah too as she was out the next day. I reaped the benefits as well because I got to rest at the hospital, something which I haven’t been able to do for quite a while. So I suppose, there are hikmahs why my baby was admitted.

My parents-in-laws still do not have a maid. Hence the reason why I couldn’t send my baby to their house. I don’t know what went wrong, but I seriously think there’s something wrong with the picture. But it is not my area to intrude so I shall leave that to all my brother-in-laws. But thinking about them also gives me the headache. These are tough challenges and sometimes I don’t know whether I am strong enough to face them, let alone suck them in. Whatever it is, I hope Aini comes back soon. She promised to return after Raya, but she hasn’t been giving me a call so I am wondering whether she is considering to return to Malaysia or not. Although she promised that in the event that she fails to return, her cousin will take her place, I am still skeptical of it happening at all. Will she come back? What if she doesn’t? [sigh]… I guess I’ll have to then start looking for someone new. I don’t know whether I’ll be ok to let in a stranger into my little house. We’ll just have to see, won’t we?

I am currently waiting for my presentation slides to be printed. There’s a conference in Hong Kong next month, and the bosses need to finalise the slides before the end of this week. PENATNYA…

Weekend With The Parents

Although I was on leave last Friday, so supposedly in full blast mood because of three days’ rest including the weekend, I wasn’t rested. I was tired. In fact, this morning, I came to work wearing a Baju Kurung that does not have to be ironed. I never wear a Baju Kurung on a Monday unless I didn’t have the time to iron the clothes during the weekend. Suffice to say, I think today I look like a very decent primary school teacher.

My parents were in town this weekend. From Thursday evening until Sunday night. And Ayah is not the type to stay at home and do nothing. He is the type that likes to go out, even though he is tired, and probably needs some rest, but he will make a point to go out; anywhere really. From shopping complexes to maybe just Carrefour.

On Friday, after Ibu’s medical check-up at Pusrawi, we went to my baby’s pediatrician for her five months’ injection. After lunch, he insisted on going to a shop which sells futsal shoes. He wanted to buy it for my brother’s birthday, as a present. So we went to Alpha Angle. Unfortunately, none of the striking fluorescent shoes appealed to him, so we went home instead… thankfully. I cooked dinner and we ate at home that night.

The next day, after a breakfast of fried rice and French toast, he insisted that we go to another bigger shopping complex. So Bie and I debated on where to go. Bie wanted to go to One Utama in Damansara, but I wasn’t that keen because the old wing near Jusco was undergoing renovation so parking would definitely be a problem. So, after much debate, we decided to go to Mid Valley. So yeah, we went to Mid Valley. Ayah asked me to think of a nice place to eat for the family lunch (he likes to do this, asking me to plan and all that, up till the point that it becomes so tiring). My two other brothers were supposed to join us at Mid Valley. But Ayin (the one whose futsal shoes were meant for) called saying that he was going to be late. He was in Putrajaya. So we went to The Garden’s food court instead and had our lunches there. My two younger brothers were unreacheable. I had a feeling that they were still fast asleep even though the time showed 3.30 in the afternoon. I don’t know why Ibu is being so tolerable with it. During my time, if I sleep in late, she’d be screaming at me at the top of her lungs and saying things which were not pleasant to the ears.

We ended up having a family dinner instead at the Flaming Steamboat Danau Kota. It was a good place to eat. Steamboat buffet at RM23.80++ per person. But because I had Hayani with me, I couldn’t enjoy much. I only ate what the rest put inside the boiling tom yam soup. I did enjoy my ice-cream though. We got back late and reached home by 12am.

The next day, Ayah told me that he felt like he wanted to visit Ayin at his house in Sungai Buloh because Ayin wasn’t well (although we had actually met the night before) due to a bad ear infection whilst my sister-in-law had sprained her ankle. Not long after that, he expressed that he actually wanted to go to Kuala Selangor because his stock of ‘ikan masin’ or salted fish have all finished, and he needed to stock up. I didn’t want to go. I was tired. I wanted to stay at home, sort out my laundry and just rest. But he was saying, “It’s up to you. If you want to go, we’ll go. Otherwise, it’s ok”. I know from his tone that he wanted to go. End up; we went to Sungai Buloh and after that to Kuala Selangor. Of course we managed to get the much-sought-out Durian while we were in Kuala Selangor (I had wanted to eat the Durian since after my confinement with Hayani). After reaching Ayin’s house at about 7.45pm, we cooked dinner, ate and left at about 10pm. We still had to go back to my house because my parents’ stuff was still at the house. I was dead tired by then. I slept for most part of the journey back home. When we reached the house, Ayah got up to pack his bag and drank a mug of steaming hot Nescafe O so that he wouldn’t be too sleepy on the way back to Seremban. I was so worried at the prospect of him traveling with Ibu alone. I know Ibu. She’ll be asleep the minute she is in the car. So I told her to keep Ayah company; talk to him so that he wouldn’t fall asleep while driving.

I planned to sort out my children’s clothes for the next day, and iron some of my work clothes. But I was so tired. Hayani was also throwing a tantrum. I hope it wasn’t because of the Durian I ate. But she was slightly colic and sweating. So I rubbed some ointment on her tummy as well as on her feet. She passed some gasses and after several more minutes was slowly falling asleep. The problem is, not only was Hayani falling asleep, but I was also falling asleep. I tried to stay awake telling myself that I had the clothes to sort out and some ironing to do, but alas, the temptation to crawl into bed was much more appealing (hence the reason for the Baju Kurung).

This morning I had to send Hayani to USJ to Maksu’s house (yeah.. the maid isn’t here yet – I seriously am beginning to dislike certain people, however that’s another story), but because I was late this morning, I was stuck in several jams. I hated it but I don’t have much of a choice.

So now I’m dead tired and having a mug of Nescafe O so that I wouldn’t fall asleep (after a lunch of rice and fried chicken). Don’t get me wrong. I love having both my parents at my place. I love taking them around. But this weekend, I was just a little overwhelmed at Ayah’s desire to go everywhere that I was just a little tired and regretted for agreeing to go to Kuala Selangor. But if I hadn’t gone to Kuala Selangor, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to eat D24 and 101 Durians (I didn’t know there was a Durian called 101, can you imagine that). So I guess, there’re pros and cons to everything. But today begins another tiring weekend of non-stop travelling from Home to USJ, office and Home again… until the new maid comes. Dreading the travelling already…

Love Our Children

I just read an article online about an eight year old boy who was killed by a man whom he asked for direction. The worse part was that he wasn’t just killed, but was dismembered with parts of his body inside a suitcase in the thrash outside while his feet were in a plastic bag in the killer’s freezer. The boy was on his way back from camp to his house which was just a few blocks away. This was the first time that he walked alone, having practiced the route with his parents a few days before. But he missed a turn and got lost. So he asked a stranger where his house was, got into the stranger’s car and that was the last time that people saw him alive. I hoped he died a quick death. I’d hate to think that his death was a slow one. He was a Jewish boy living in Brooklyn, New York. His killer was also Jewish, both from the orthodox clan.

It’s scary when you think that usually, people who kill children are probably your next door neighbor or friends you know living in the area. This is proven with the case of a mother and son from Kelantan, but staying in Port Dickson I think, who were murdered by their next door neighbor. Then the gruesome beheading of an elderly man and the killing of both grandparents and sister in Negeri Sembilan sometime last year or was it two years back. I find it all very scary.

I have three children (I can say three, previously, it’s always been just two.. just a thought) and I fear for their safety everyday. Whether they’re at school or in the car with Bie or while playing outside the house. I really do worry about them. Whenever I go out and I take them with me, children being children, they’re always out of your sight, running here and there or hiding in between clothes rack (that would be my son) or just gone without trace then you’d see them with your husband at the cashier queuing up to pay. Whenever these vanishing without a trace act happens to me, my heart would be thumping so loudly that I swear I could feel my blood veins popping and breaking all over the place. And that happens even when I am on a constant lookout for them. Imagine if I don’t bother looking out for them. A stranger can just come and take your child away even before you can say Chipsmore. And the scary thing is that, you wouldn’t even realize it because you’d think that he or she is probably still under the clothes rack playing hide and seek.

I have that fear in me everyday and honestly, I don’t know what I would do if they do go missing. Granted that certain things happen as Allah wills it, and that whatever mishaps or events that take place are challenges by Him to see whether you are strong enough, but when it comes to my children, I don’t think I can accept it. I don’t know. It’s just so hard to say. Allah knows best and I always pray for their safety and that they are protected by Allah at all times. But things can happen, you know. Things which you read in the paper may happen to you… [sigh]. I don’t know. Reading stories about children being kidnapped or murdered is heart-wrenching. Being a mother, it is just something that I fear most for my children.

The other thing which surprises me, well.. ironically is that people do not seem to love children anymore. Killing of children or throwing of babies, especially newborn is something that is not as prominent compared to today. Those days, we just don’t hear this sort of stories. Didn’t these things happen 20, 30 years ago? I saw in the news last night about a father abusing his 9 year-old boy with a belt until causing the poor child injury to the head and ears. The elder brother had to intervene to stop the father from beating the poor boy. He also lodged a police report against his father. Kudos to the brother. And the irony is that, the wife is currently pregnant with the 6th child I think. If you can’t take care of your children, then don’t be fertilizing your sperm. Have a heart. Stop when you think it’s enough. Take precatioun. There are many of them now. But no, they wouldn’t do that. They’d rather get their wives pregnant and later when the child is born, so what. Another child to add to the brood. I just don’t get it. Yes, children are temperamental and their behavior can cause headaches and makes us want to hit them on the head and shove them into a dark room just so that they behave, but they are after all children. These are the challenges in bringing up a child, at whatever ages.

I myself have been boiling with madness at my children’s antics, OMG.. the things they do. I hit them. I do. And pinch them or pull the ‘jambang’, the little hair that grow at the sideburn area, which proves to be productive at that point in time to stop them from doing whatever it is that was making me mad. But at the moment, I am sane enough not to belt them on the head and I pray to Allah to constantly give me the patience to nurture them without having to belt their heads. I believe in discipline and I believe in hitting, but at areas where it will not affect their hearing, eye-sight or physical movement. Hit them on the butt-cheek perhaps, or the hands, or the feet. Use a cane if you want to, but just at those areas that will not affect their senses.

What happen to the act of loving children? If not other people’s children, but at least yours? This is definitely a sign. And I guess we should be wary of it. I pray to Allah to continue protect our children and that they may be out of harm’s way. May they also grow up to responsible beings; obedient, loyal and loving with their faith always dictating them the right thing to do. AMIN.

Something Cheerful For A Change

I noticed that lately, I have been treating my blog as an outlet of frustration; some place to take my mind of things so that after I’ve let it out, I’d become better. You see, I don’t share my inner thoughts with many people. But weird as it seem, I could share it with the entire world.. hehehehe.. Because the entire world, except for perhaps a few, have very little care for my stories. To them, my stories are just like any other story shared by many other bloggers in the internet. So it is kind of comforting, in a sense.

Anyway, I learnt of a very happy news today. A certain close friend of mine, whom I cherish very much [slight pause, for dramatic purposes] is expecting!! Yeeahh… She has been married for almost 2 years and I know that she has been trying diligently to get pregnant. She even had a minor operation earlier this year to get rid of a suspected growth in her uterus area and ‘cleaned’ her tubes in the process. Very painful task, but needed to be done all in the name of trying to get a baby; as well as for health reasons, among others. I remember people asking me, countless times, just because she gained a little weight, whether the reason for her weight gain was because she was pregnant. I always had to defend her because I didn’t like the way the people asked me. Is it a crime if a person got married and was not pregnant yet? It all depends on Allah. Who are we to say anything.

But when I learnt the news during lunch today, I was SO happy. She deserves this little bundle of joy and yes, I can’t wait to see her become a mother. I am very sure that she’ll make the most loving mother a child can ever have. Her expected date is February next year, hopefully the same date as my Hayani. But since it’s only been 4 weeks, she’s experiencing a little bleeding and had to be on bed rest for the entire week. So I hope the best for her and can’t wait to see her grow all big and preggers.

Talking about babies, my Hayani is 4 months and a half now. She is currently my little bundle of joy. I have been exclusively breastfeeding her, which proves to be a difficult task especially if I have to travel (luckily just to Johor, and not an overnight stay) or have back-to-back meetings. And being a ‘healthy’ baby, she likes her milk very much. So her daily consumption is about 18oz to 20oz from 9am to 7pm. So imagine the amount of milk that I need to express. A lot. And depending on work stress, sometimes the milk can easily be about 18oz, but other times, getting to just 14oz can be very challenging. But I have vowed to exclusively breastfeed her until she’s at least 6 months and I guess I have to stick to that vow. But considering that I need to travel to Johor the following week and come back late at night, I can’t be selfish and not allow her any formula. What if my milk stock is not sufficient for the day? She’ll be hungry and I can’t be that cruel. This is something that I still need to comprehend. Meanwhile, I just need to express on weekends as well. It is worth the effort. And I will continue to express until I have no more milk. Well, that’s a bit dramatic. At least until she’s a year old, Insya Allah. At the moment, she’s very like one of those Michellin type of babies. And I love it. We recently shaved her head, so now she looks more like a baby. Previously, with her long hair, she can pass for a 6 month old baby anytime. But I prefer her with her shaved head. It makes her droopy face even bigger than her little head. Her droopy cheeks contribute to that. I just love to bite those cheeks. Bie loves to kiss the cheeks as well. But her face will always end up red with rashes after Bie kisses her. Bie has all these stubbles and baby’s skin is very sensitive. But what can you do. You can’t stop him from kissing his own daughter. Perhaps I’ll share some pictures later.

Anyway, I hope that was cheerful. Till later.

Something Happened

A few weeks ago, as I was sitting down having dinner with my parents at home, I received a call. It was a lady. She introduced herself rather quickly, not giving me a chance to catch her name and immediately bombarded me with questions. While she was asking away, I still had no idea who she was. It was until after a few minutes after that did I realize that I was talking to a friend’s wife. Apparently, she called me because she wanted to know why her husband was calling me dear.

My parents were looking at me with appalled faces. Wondering what it is that I had done to have received such a phone call from someone’s wife. I was shocked. I was discussing the Ayam Korma that I cooked for dinner with Ayah when the phone call came through. She demanded to know why her husband was calling me dear. I told her that he called everyone dear, and that I wasn’t the only one. Which was true. This friend of mine has the habit of calling those that he feels comfortable with ‘dear’. He would come to our cubicles and the word ‘dear’ would just come out from his mouth as easily as one usually says, ‘coffee?’. Then she told me off. She said that she didn’t like it that her husband called me dear, and hung up on me.

I stared at the phone, slightly shaken up, while thinking, “Did that happen to me? Did his wife just called me?” and when I saw my parents’ face, then did I realize that they were in front of me, with a very concerned look and a thousand questions reflected on their faces. I felt embarrassed. They must have thought the worst of me. Bie was in front of the TV and not very happy as well. He kept on going about transparency. I didn’t hear him. I was just too shocked. It was something which I didn’t expect at all. Those which I only saw on TV; Cerekarama perhaps, actually happened to me. Ayah looked at me questioningly. So I told him that I received a call from a friend’s wife who seemed very upset that her husband was calling me dear. He wasn’t convinced, so I had to tell him, “Ayah, don’t worry. He’s a friend. I am NOT having an affair with him. God.. please. Bie knows him. He also knows that we’re good friends. Don’t worry. This is all a big misunderstanding”. Ibu didn’t look too happy and was telling me that I should have told her off. But I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to stoop myself to her level. Someone has to be level-headed. And that someone has to be me.

Later that night, I received a text from her which said something along the lines to not text or email her husband anymore. Never mind that her husband called me at work, but I shouldn’t return his call. The one that made me mad was that, she said, rather than telling stuff to her husband, I should be telling (or sharing whatever it is, with) my husband. You know, like share stuff with her husband. I mean, come on. I tell Bie everything all the time. I share things with Bie. And my friendship with her husband is also not a secret from Bie. Bie knows about it and is cool with it. Heck, he used to send me back home to my in-laws from work. And Bie is very much aware of this as he was at his parents’, waiting for me. So leave my husband out of this. It’s not my fault if she doesn’t share things with her husband. So that really ticked me. So I replied. But being a courteous person that I am, I apologized for the misunderstanding and told her to talk to her husband instead.

The incident really spoilt my weekend. I was supposed to celebrate Ayah’s birthday that Sunday. That was why my parents were at home. I tried not to show that the incident bothered me and went ahead to celebrate his birthday at TGI. We bought him a cake and forced him to sing the birthday song, together with my son who also recently turned 4. It was a happy moment for me, but when my mind was not on the event, the phone calls and text messages haunted me. Truth be said, I was upset. I did not deserve that. And that night, I made up my mind on my friendship with A.

I have known A for 10 years. I knew him before I got married. I was new at the workplace so him joining the department a few months after that, was a welcoming thing. The department was tight. We were all young people reporting to a fairly young boss. So the air was different. Work is work, but when it comes to play, we would ‘play’ and have fun. Birthdays had always been a fun thing. So over the 10 years, I got close to him. The fact that I had to work closely with him on a lot of things made us even closer. He somehow felt comfortable with me and didn’t mind sharing stuff with me. And I shared stuff with him. But it has never gone beyond that invisible line. We never talk about personal things. Feelings towards our partners or anything like that. It was more towards discussion of opinions, beliefs, and things that go round in the office. About a certain bouncy-haired girl or a mutual friend we know who had moved to the Middle East for work (a sick fella, to me at least). He was the last person at the office who saw me wearing a knee-length skirt and white wedges coz the following Monday, I was already in my hijjab. Hidayah was given to me over the weekend, Alhamdulillah. He had a pretty weird time adjusting to the new me because he was afraid that I would change. But he got over it in the end. People at the office knew that we were close. But that’s just what we were. Close. And that friendship carried on until that fateful Saturday night when I received the phonecall from his wife.

As much as I hated it, I knew that his wife had every right to be upset. If I were in her position, I’d probably feel the same. She may not know the type of friendship I have with her husband, but I am thankful that Bie knows. I have been transparent with my friendship with A with Bie from day one. So, my friendship with A has never been a problem. At that point in time, I am thankful to Allah for giving me an understanding husband. Because, if Bie isn’t like that, I wouldn’t still be in friendships with some of the other guys that I have made friends with since the post-SPM days.

After much thought, in addition to the subtle warning from the wife, I made up my mind not to be in contact with A anymore. Our friendship has been tainted. Things will never be the same again. I just couldn’t pick up the phone to ask him how he was and there would be no more silly emails to him asking him about his ‘best’ friend who had moved to PEMANDU. There will also be no more silly text messages from the LRTs complaining about the smell of the armpit of the person sitting next to me. There will be none of those anymore. As much as I hated to end the friendship, it will never just be the same again.

I told A of the incident. Apparently he knew. He was in front of the wife when she made the call. He was too astounded to stop his wife from calling me. But he was just afraid that I wouldn’t want to be his friend anymore. He was afraid that I would just toss away the friendship at a single throw. To him, he still wanted to be my friend. His wife or anyone else for that matter could not tell him who he should make friends with. Though I told him that I needed time for the incident to sink through and that perhaps we’ll pick up from there, both he and I knew that, that is not going to happen. I was prepared to walk away. As much as it hurts me, I didn’t want to be his wife’s wrath. I respect her as a woman and a wife, as I am both and I am prepared to walk away if it means that the wife is happy and that their marriage is not affected. Besides, things between A and me, I don’t think it’ll be the same again.

When I am alone and suddenly I think of him, I will remember the good times that we had. The usual lunch sessions with the usual gang; each of us wanting to taste each other’s food, him always selecting the most expensive dish on the menu (and not eating it much afterwards). Then there’s the drive home where we would talk about almost anything. Back then, we would be travelling from Johor to KL, and somehow we never bore each other. There were just so many things to talk about. We were friends. The recent AGM reminded me of him more. He was always around. There was a time when he was wearing a bright pink tie, and a certain bouncy-haired girl complimented on his courage to wear pink. And he kept on repeating that compliment throughout the day. But all of that is gone now. It just hurts to think that I was perhaps likened to a bad woman. A home-wrecker. And I don’t think I can take that.

To A, I am very sorry. I really am. But I don’t think we can be friends anymore. Well, not as close as previously. I shall treasure the memory we have over these 10 years. They were great. Thank you for teaching me a lot of things especially those related to work. I will definitely utilize the knowledge in my course of work. Thank you for sending me home as well. Saved me from going on the LRT and smelling various body odour after work. If you do see me on the street somewhere, please do not hesitate to say hi. Yes we may never be good friends anymore, but we’re certainly no strangers. May you be happy, always, with your loved ones.

What Part Don’t You Get

I keep on getting this email from this lawyer’s secretary asking whether we ought to sign the MOT form via PA or Common Seal. I mean, come on lah. You’ve been doing that for ages, and this is not the first deal that we’re using you, so fikirlah sendiri. I can’t do the thinking for you. Besides, I DON’T KNOW..!! Which part of I don’t know, don’t you understand! You’ve talked on the phone about it, and you’ve dropped an email on the same matter, and still you’re dropping me another email asking me the same matter. Seriously, dude… tak gheti bahasa ker? I don’t ‘*&$&#g know..!!

I am so mad now. And to make matters worse. Received a memo from the Group MD. He likes to drop emails now, nearly every other day. And now in two languages; what, his staff has no better work to do. First a memo in English. Next, full translation in Malay. And we pay them high salary for this?! Come on. Give me a break. Anyway, it’s about platinum holders. Those who did tremendously well last year. And I saw some faces I know. And being human, I got pissed off. It’s like, ‘ek-eleh…’ what the heck. I hate feeling like this. Does this mean that I’m no good? I am trying my best but I guess doing my best isn’t good enough. How hard is it for me to get rewarded like that? I am a full time working mom. I am also a full time wife and mother. I make breakfast for the kids and pack their food for school. I clean the kitchen, make sure the laundry is washed and folded and I take care of the kids; even to the extent of staying in the toilet with them in cases where they do number two in a public toilet. But I also want to be a thriving career woman. A woman of power at work; someone who people actually listen to. And make a difference. But somehow, I can’t do that. At work, I have to prove myself twice just to show that I am as capable as my male colleagues, and I hate that. In between doing management papers, or reviewing agreements, I have to take breaks to express milk for mybaby. Not that I’m complaining, as I truly believe in the nutrients of mothers’ milk and would go the extra mile just to ensure that my baby gets the best milk, but how can I compete with those who do not have to express milk in between work and rush home just to ensure that the kids don’t go hungry and have very late dinner? There was a time, because I had to work late (not that late – I think it was around 8.30pm or something), my kids ate dinner at 10pm. That was the time that they were supposed to be asleep. But no, I can’t use my kids or the family as a reason if something screws up in the office. It would seem unprofessional from a man’s point of view. They on the other hand, do not have to worry about that. Their wives who are home-makers by the way, takes care of the matter for them. So if a child gets sick, it is always the mother that has to take leave to care for the child at home. Man finds money, man does not stay at home. A man never worries about where to leave the kids when the parents go to work, or what clothes should be packed to cover for daytime and night-time or whether the diapers are enough for the day. It is always the mother who considers all these little nitty-gritty stuff. But at the same time, these are the mothers that want a progressive career. This is what I want. But I can’t be both. It’s just so tiring to be both. A person in a right frame of mind would sacrifice one without any thought. In my case, I don’t want to sacrifice one. I want both. But a person can never have both.

So reading the memo from the Group MD is like sticking my arms with needles. I despise it. These are people I guess who truly deserve platinum, but deep inside I compare. Compare myself with those colleagues of mine. What if the situation is reversed and that they take care of the kids and make sure that there is always order at home. Will they be able to juggle it? I doubt it. But here they are, being recognized as platinum holders, and rejoiced throughout the Group. As if…

Hating His Guts

I don’t get mad at my boss easily. But when I do, I hate his guts so much that I want to walk out of my cubicle and just go to the surau downstairs and sleep it off. But I can’t. He’s around. And he’s expecting me to do some things for him. What made me angry was the fact that I realize that whatever crap he tells me is true. He’s just too obliging, my boss. He is always wanting to do the right things, even when it doesn’t concern him much, just for the sake of that thing he calls responsibility. And I hate that. I’ll feel guilty and horrible inside and will start to develop this hating of guts thing towards him… [sigh].. he’s a nice man. He really is. And I can understand perfectly why he says certain things and why he says them. But as a staff, or a normal human being, I just couldn’t accept what he says and of course starts finding fault with the whole situation and starts hating his guts.

I’m not a terrible person. I haven’t been well for nearly 2 weeks now. Off and on with fever, dry coughs and tired body, what with preparing for the AGM (which thankfully was yesterday) which had me stayed at the office and going back late, affecting my body and milk production for my little one and just wearing my entire body down. So whatever anyone says at the moment, even if it was meant to be seen as professional, I will not take it gently. And this is what I am doing now. But to make myself feel better, I’ll tell myself not to care. I’m not the one being paid huge amount of money by the end of the day. So why should I go the extra mile and think beyond my so-called predetermined capability? They determine capabilities here by designations. It’s a job specification thing which I think is Bulls. But who cares. I’m just so mad.

Other updates? Later…

My Poor Baby

It’s so difficult to become a mother yet a successful career woman at the same time, especially if you have no maid to help out. And I am beginning to feel the taste of it. Previously, with a maid around to assist, I never gave it much thought. Especially since both Marsya and Raqib are grown up. Well, not grown up in the sense of it, but they can talk and walk and take care of themselves, if necessary. So the maid just takes care of the basic stuff like cook them food or bathe them. But with a baby in the picture and no maid around, it sure does change everything. I can deal with preparing the food for the other two kids and bathing them, after all Bie is around to help, but the baby. There is no one to take care of Hayani. I worry about leaving her to complete strangers. Not all strangers or nurseries have the patience to heat frozen breast milk to feed the babies. They prefer formula as it is easier. And that’s only the tip of the ice-berg.

Man, what am I saying? I’m just a little stressed this morning. Not to mention breaking down in front of the kids last Friday, but that’ll be another update. I don’t think I can take pouring out all my heart in one blog update. It’s just too much and I don’t have the time to write them down. It’s in my head though. I just don’t know how other mothers do it. There are plenty of working mothers out there, but they seemed to have no problems. They sail through life with no assistance from any maid and yet are still able to hold their head up high when it comes to careers. How do they do it? How can a person have both? How can a mother have both? Anyway, like I said, that’ll be another update.

Hayani is the most adorable creature on earth. Well for me at least. As usual I send her over to my in-laws. They have a maid to take care of Mak, while at the same time; she will also take care of Hayani. I even pay her more since she’s also taking care of Hayani. But today, Mak had to go to the hospital, for her routine check up. The plan was for Abang (Bie’s eldest nephew) to accompany Mak to the hospital whilst the maid stayed at home. But at the very last minute, Bak made some changes to the plan and asked Abang to stay at home instead. The maid is supposed to accompany them to the hospital. And of course, he didn’t tell us this. So this morning, as usual, I went to the house to find that only Abang was there. Bie called Bak and was informed that they’ve left for the hospital together with the maid. Great! Who’s going to take care of Hayani? I have to go to work. We can’t possibly send Hayani to Maksu’s house in USJ. I’ll be late for work. So Bie asked Abang to take care of Hayani for a while so that he could send me to the LRT and the other two kids to kindy. I was upset. At least have the courtesy to call and inform us so that we would know what to do. At least plan out where to send Hayani… my poor baby. I felt as if my baby was rejected by those who are supposed to take care of her. She is after all not a priority to some. It made me feel terrible. It made me wonder whether I should take an emergency leave just to be there for her. But I can’t afford that. My boss though he never specifies it, does not really like emergency leaves UNLESS it is REALLY an emergency. It also made me wonder why I bother working when there’s no one to take care of my baby. But of course I shoved that thought to the back of my head. I need to work. We need the money.

Bie said he’d come back to the house after he sent my other two kids to kindy to take care of Hayani. I was a bit skeptical. He has never taken care of a baby before. Never bathe them or feed them because all my children breastfeed, so he has never had to wake up in the middle of the night to make bottled milk or anything. So him taking care of my three month old baby was a bit worrying. So when I got to the office, I immediately called him to find out how Hayani was doing. Bie told me that he was on the way to USJ, to Maksu’s house. There is no one to take care of Hayani. He had to do something and there’s no knowing when Bak and Mak would come back from the hospital. My poor, poor baby. So Bie together with Abang (who held her while feeding her milk) made their way to USJ. Thank goodness for Maksu. Somehow, I can always rely on Maksu, Ibu or Acik. I don’t mean to be biased, but I don’t think I can rely much on my in-laws when it comes to my kids. I guess, age is also a factor. My in-laws are old compared to my parents. And with Mak’s current condition, I don’t think they would have much time to think about my kids’ welfare. And as much as I try not to be disappointed with it, I am in fact quite disappointed. I do try to rationalize the whole thing, but I am also just a human being, who happened to be a mother. So things which revolve around my children, I do take them at a personal level. I can’t help it.

So yes, today Hayani is at Maksu’s. Today, after picking up the kids from kindy, Bie would have to come and fetch me and later go to USJ. I foresee a tiring day today. And Raqib wants to eat noodles tomorrow for breakfast.. [sigh].

Welcome Back!!

Yup… I am back from maternity leave. The frustrating bit is that, my maternity leave is only 2 months. Some of the local banks are giving 3 months maternity leave to new mothers. Unfortunately my company is just not that generous. Oh well, I don’t have a choice. So here I am back at the office. I have actually been meaning to write something on the blog during my maternity leave, but there were just so many things happening that I just couldn’t find the time. I had loads to share and get out of my system, but I just didn’t have the time to write. So here I am at the office, trying to write something in between the tasks that I have been ssigned to (which are piling up) so that at least the world knows that I am still alive, for now.

Another reason is that, a dear friend of mine called me just to check on me. She saw that my FB has been left idle for several months and my blog has been left unattended for quite a while. So she was worried about me. She tried to email me at the office but the email was bounced. So she was getting all these ideas in her head and finally decided to call me just to check on me. So yeah Aboo, your concern is flattering. We should meet up one of these days. I’ll treat you to an ice-cream.

Yes, I have given birth to a beautiful baby girl on 11 February 2011. I call her Mirrah Hayani. She is now 2 and half months. So yes, I have three beautiful children now. Two girls and one boy. So am I now ‘closing production’? I don’t know. But if Allah wills it, I do intend to add another boy to the brood. So at least I’ll have four with two pairs of each. I don’t know. It’s still too early to say anything. After all, I just gave birth 2 months ago. But my doctor said, if I want to have another one, I should have it by the age of 38. So yeah, I have a few more years to think about that. Not that I’m revealing my age. Hehehehe.. sorry. Do the maths, ok. I don’t mind getting pregnant but I don’t think I can take the morning sickness, and the labour pains. It’s kind of scary when I think about it. But who knows. Only time will tell.

Marsya and Raqib love the baby very much. Raqib at first didn’t really like the baby. He insisted on wanting to sleep next to me. And was always coming in the middle between me and Hayani. But I think he has gotten the idea now. The idea that he is now the big brother being sandwiched between two sisters. He even refers himself as Bang Ngah these days, or Abang. Whichever he prefers really.

My confinement period was absolute torture. Not so much of the after-pain, having to take care of the stitches and not being strong enough but more towards having to take care of Marsya and Raqib. With me on confinement, they also took long leave from their kindergarten. And both were showing different tantrums. Sleeping late, and I’m talking about 2am or 3am. Even Hayani slept late. She slept throughout the day and was awake at night so giving her Umi very little sleep. I was tired. Bie was not around to assist because he was in KL… [sigh].. there were just so many things happening. Right after I gave birth, a week after that, my brother-in-law got married. The week after that, my mother-in-law was hospitalized due to back pains and effects of a not suitable painkiller. Because of that, she was dehydrated and even experienced a mild stroke. Luckily she recovered, but her back pain was still there. Apparently some nerves were being pressed by the bones or something; which part? Don’t ask me. I’m not too sure. But she had to undergo an operation or she would risk loosing the ability to walk forever. So yeah, she was hospitalized from one hospital to another and finally settled at the University Hospital. In total she was hospitalized for nearly 2 months, about the same time that I finished my maternity leave. She was depressed and had very low morale. In fact, her morale is currently at the lowest. She now lacks the spirit to recover and is always negative about everything. So Bie had to constantly be by her side just to give her moral support or simply just be there for her. So I had to take care of my kids as well as the new baby during my confinement. Not an easy task especially when I was not that completely healed. But I thank Allah for giving me a speedy health recovery compared to my two earlier pregnancies. So I was able to look after them, but I was still mentally stressed. The tantrums and all were just too much. Luckily I wasn’t having any post-natal depression. Ibu was around, but I couldn’t allow her to take care of my kids that much. Running after them and attending to their every request was tiring enough. Ibu helped when she could but still, it was tiring. So I was glad when they had to return to kindergarten. At least their sleeping patterns were better. No more sleeping at 2am. Besides, Bie was around to help. And that was only one part of my many issues.

Living with Ibu for quite a lengthy period of time is nice, BUT I think my relationship with her is better if I don’t stay with her. This I discovered during the time I was looking for a job after I graduated back in 1999. At that time, I was job-less for four months. I was just too lazy wanting to rest after grueling years of study. Let’s just say that I was not in pretty shape back then. So I was thankful when I got a job in KL and finally moved out. So yeah, the same sort of thing occurred again. I mean, she is after all my mother and all mothers only want the best for their daughters. Their children in fact. And regardless of anything that happened, I love her very, very much and could never imagine my life without her. She brought me into the world and took care of me until I become the woman that I am today. She is my best friend. I share almost everything with her. But sometimes sharing too much can backfire.

Yes she doesn’t have Ayah’s optimism and positivity. She views things differently from me and sometimes her views are a bit too heart-wrenching for me. In other words, we don’t see eye to eye on certain things. And having to hear certain things over and over again, during my confinement with the stress that was bottling up in my head, what with the children, financial-related issues, Mak in the hospital and Bie not around to help, it was just getting to me. I was stressed to the max. I couldn’t sleep. The things she said re-played in my head like a broken VCR. It was terrible. I was mentally exhausted. Of course I tried not to reply to anything she said. I didn’t want to upset her. Because of that I was biting my tongue so as not to say things that would hurt her. But the things that she said hurt me. I try to be a good daughter, a good wife, a good mother and a good daughter-in-law but sometimes it just proves to be too difficult. It was terrible. I was thankful that I had the children to fall back on, although it was quite difficult to handle them during that time because I was not fully recovered. But please don’t get me wrong. I love Ibu. She has been there for me whenever I felt down or unwell, and cooking whatever it is that I wanted to eat. Ayah would go on a limbo to find the stuff whereas Ibu would cook it. But I guess living with her for quite a lengthy period is not an option. My relationship with her is better when I stay away from her. So yeah, moving back to KL after my confinement was a blessing. My mind was also a bit relaxed, and I had Ayah when I needed a heart-to-heart session. I just had to pour all my emotions to Ayah and that helped.

That was only one part. The other bit is that my maid chose NOT to return. She was still not sure whether she wanted to come back saying that her kids needed her what with her husband who recently passed on. At first she wanted to extend her stay. But when asked till when, she herself wasn’t sure. So we gave her the ultimatum. If she wasn’t back on 15 March then that was it. After all, her return ticket was on that day. So on that day, Bie called her up wanting to check on whether she was coming back. And she confirmed that she wasn’t. I was mad at her. After all the nice things that we did for her, gave her support especially when she learned that her husband passed away. She didn’t want to come back. Well, I think she was just not too sure whether she should come back. I know that she still loved the kids. She called just to speak to Raqib. She told me that she missed him. But I guess I couldn’t be selfish. She after all has kids and the kids probably need her. So there was the issue of where to place Hayani when I start working. That was another headache. I was worried sick, not knowing where to put her. Marsya and Raqib, no issue since I sent them to the kindergarten the whole day. At first I wanted to send her to a babysitter; anyone that could take care of a newborn baby around Mak’s house. There was also the option of sending her to USJ with Maksu. But Maksu just lives too far away. I don’t think I can afford sending my baby everyday to USJ. But that was taken care of thankfully when Mak got herself a maid to take care of her after she was discharged from the hospital. Well, Bak and my brother-in-law insisted that I park my baby there. At least there it is guaranteed that Bie and I will visit Mak at home on a daily basis. And with the baby there, hopefully it would help Mak out of her depression. So yeah, Hayani is now being taken care of the maid. Thankfully she’s used to taking care of babies so I wasn’t really worried about leaving Hayani there. I don’t know whether I’ll be taking another maid. Yes I am tired these days. Having to take care of the food, laundry, and the house, as well as the kids but I figure if other working mothers can do it, then why not me. Yeah, that’s me. Trying to be positive about the whole thing. I have to. I can’t indulge in self-pity. That would be a shame to all working mothers out there. So I decided to embrace it and just do what I can do. Because I reached home quite late (after picking up the baby and visiting Mak at her house), I seldom cook on weekdays. Even Marsya was enjoying the eating out dinner. Not really a good practice but it’ll have to suffice for now. I do intend to start cooking again soon. But I have to leave the office at 5.30pm sharp. Not something that can be done easily. Oh well, take one little step at a time. It’s the only way.

So that’s basically it in a nutshell. Tiring? You bet.. but I have to deal with it, whether I like it or not. At least I have the new baby to fuss about. She is just an adorable little thing. Her cheeks are all puffed up like the cartoon character Droopy and she smiles whenever she hears my voice. She is just the best. In fact, my kids are now the best and though tiring I am with their antics, their behavior make me smile and I tend to forget that it has been a tiring day. I love them. I love my family. Alhamdulillah for that…

Marsya Didn’t Get It

We received a letter from the Ministry yesterday. Marsya didn’t get to enter into Standard One this year. We were advised by the Ministry to register her Standard One for 2012. I was very disappointed. After waiting for more than two months, that was the feedback that we got. Earlier the Ministry promised to issue a letter in the 3rd week of December so at least we can make the necessary preparations. You know, if she gets to go to school then buy her stuff, but if she doesn’t then we can register her back at her old pre-school. Looks like an entire month has been wasted. While other kids have been going to school since January, I can only put my daughter in school in February, after the Chinese New Year break.

I have to admit that I am quite frustrated that she didn’t get it. I wonder what the issue is. Is she not bright enough? Or are her 4M skills (writing, calculating, rationale thinking, and I forgot the other one) not good enough for the Ministry to accept her to be in Standard One below the age of seven? All sorts of things are playing in my mind. I’d like to think that I have a bright daughter (heck, all parents would think that, so I am no exception), but I guess she was just not lucky. Or, not bright enough [sigh]… that’s the one that made me frustrated. She has been reading and had no problems doing simple mathematics i.e. addition and subtraction, but I guess that was just not good enough. It’s terrible isn’t it? It’s like that I can’t accept she’s not good enough to enter into Standard One this year. When for actual fact, Allah knows best. He knows why Marsya is not accepted, and that is beyond anything that I know.

I have to be grateful that she’s not entering into Standard One now. What if she couldn’t keep up with the rest of the class, or have problems making friends? All these are things that are beyond me. I know I’m saying this just to make myself feel better, but I have to accept the fact that she wasn’t accepted. Of course there’s the issue of telling EVERYONE in the whole world that she didn’t get it. In my head, I don’t want people to think that my daughter isn’t clever, or bright. Only I have the ability to do that coz I am her mother (a bit selfish aren’t I?), or it’s just me. Those thoughts are just playing in my head… [sigh]. Gosh, I am a TERRIBLE mother. How could I think less of Marsya? This is beginning to get sad now. Marsya is the perfect six year-old daughter that I can ever have. It is unfair for me to have such high expectations for her considering that she’s only six and to my parents’ eyes and those close to her, she is already a bright, clever girl. She is perfect in everyway. She has been one of the best things that had happened to me and I look forward to grow old with her. To have a wonderful mother-daughter relationship, for her to see me as her best friend… that sort of thing. Clever or not clever, that’s beside the point. To me, she is the brightest, cleverest and most loving daughter that a mother can ever have. And no one can take that away from me.

So yeah… I guess I just needed to get this feeling out of the way. It’s not the end of the world that she didn’t get it. Whatever it is, she’ll still be in Standard One next year. Hopefully next year, she’ll be prepared to enter into Standard One just like any of her friends that were born of the same year as her. And I’ll get the chance to enjoy shopping for her school clothes and stuff without having a big stomach as I’m having now, which is currently constantly in the way. I have to admit that it’s rather difficult to walk long distances these days. My feet hurt and I’d have back pains. After all, I am already in my 9th month. I have a month to go before my due date.

Marsya, darling Marsya… Umi is not angry with you for not being able to enter into Standard One. This is after all Allah’s works. Who is Umi to get all upset and riled up? Things happen for a reason and Umi should be thankful for whatever that reason is. Umi will try not to have too high hopes for you throughout your life. After all, we’re only talking about the entering of Standard One; there are other major exams or life-changing decisions in the future that you will have to go through, and Umi will try… WILL try not to be too competitive or emotionally-strung when it comes later… Insya Allah. Love you, darling.

Trip With The Family

I have been tired for the past week, especially last Monday. On Tuesday I had an appointment with my doctor who confirmed that I had premature contraction (coz I was having period pain-like ache) which I think was the impact of my exhaustion from the recent trip I had with the family, and I was given MC for 2 days. I didn’t even go to the seminar at Bursa on Company and Corporate Disclosure (I couldn’t get up; I was having back pains and stomach cramps). My baby now weighs between 2.7kg to 2.9kg and my doctor feared that the baby would weigh up till 4kg come my due date on the 26th of February, causing other issues like possible hemorrhoid and c-sections, both I deeply want to avoid. So she’s proposing that I do a planned delivery which means I would have to be induced. I pray to Allah that it wouldn’t have to come to that.

And to make matters worse, my email is not functioning. Somehow, it is not connected to the server or something. This always happens to me. I don’t know what the issue is really. Perhaps I need a new set of PC or something. Others don’t seem to have the same problems. They can always connect to the server. But I would have problems. At this age and time, we rely a lot on the Internet. Emails are crucial. Things are always being communicated via emails. So if the server is down and you can’t connect to the email, it is really a huge matter. I’ll have to talk to the IT guy again. It is pissing me off.

Anyway, why am I tired? I just got back from Lumut last weekend. My parents, well Ayah lah, decided to take a family trip to Damai Laut last weekend. Ayin and family, myself and Ibu/Ayah. Ayah booked the Swiss Twin Villa. It’s not the apartment, but it’s a single storey semi-D. Very nice house. Didn’t look too nice from the outside, but once inside, you just forget what the house actually looks like from the outside. It had 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. My children, upon seeing the bathroom, immediately wanted to take a bath. The tub was quite big, so the children had fun playing in the water, splashing about and just literally had fun. I had fun watching them. I think they spent nearly an hour in the tub. That actually gave me time to rest. Just imagine, we left KL at about 1pm and reached Damai Laut at only 5.45pm. The journey was tiring. I don’t remember travelling that long when I went to Damai Laut a few years ago. Of course we stopped at Teluk Intan to have a late lunch (the food was good – pajeri terung, sambal sotong, kerang rebus, udang masak cili api dengan kacang buncis, you name it.. typical Malay dishes and they were good. It was really cheap as well; only RM38 plus drinks).

That night, we didn’t go out for dinner. Everyone was just so tired. Luckily I brought a lot of food. I had lots of biscuits, 2 loaves of bread, tuna spread, sausage rolls, a few packets of drinks, bihun goreng, and so forth; suffice to say, we weren’t hungry at all that night. The next day, we went to the resort for breakfast. Since it was a buffet, I ate quite a lot. Well, if it wasn’t a buffet, I think I’d still eat a lot. Hehehe.. but surprisingly, the nasi lemak and sambal ikan bilis were good, in comparison to hotel standard. The rice tasted rich with santan and the sambal was spicy, not sweet or gingery-taste like most hotels; so two thumbs up for that. Of course there were other food, you know, the usual breakfast food. After that Bie and I took the kids to the beach to play with their kites (Ayah bought it for them from the hotel’s shop; see what I mean about twisting their grandfather with their little fingers); it was a long way down mind you to reach the beach, and I had difficulty climbing up the stairs to go back to the hotel. Let’s just say I had to make a few stops while going back up. And after that, I took the kids to the pool. Raqib was in the children’s pool, whilst Marsya wanted to try the adult’s pool. I didn’t swim with her, but I went round with her (Marsya in the pool while I was at the edge of the pool, every ready to jump in if she faced any difficulty – luckily she was alright. She had the float with her). We spent about an hour and a half at the pool, with my parents taking a rest under the cool shades of the big pool umbrella. I have to admit, it was fun doing it through the eyes of my children. Their laughter, their shrieks and their excitement were just the essential thing that made me enjoy the day at the pool, despite the hot weather and the fact that I was sweating everywhere.

After that, we drove out of the hotel and had lunch at a restaurant called Cili Api. It was alright. Still couldn’t challenge the food we had at Teluk Intan. We reached the twin villa at about 4pm and stayed indoors to rest. I tried to take a nap, but when you have active kids who slept in the car even for half an hour and still feel very refreshed, I couldn’t really go to sleep. But yeah, with the cool temperature in the room, it was the perfect ambience to go to sleep. I managed to rest for about 2 hours though. So it was good enough for me.

That night, we went to Teluk Batik to have dinner. Ayah wanted to order some ala-carte at the resort, but there was also an ‘army’ of Sunway Construction people there. They were having their family day. And we didn’t fancy going to a dining area with lots of people, so we decided to venture out and get a taste of the Lumut seafood. That’s where we decided to have dinner at Teluk Batik. The food was alright (I know, I have been talking about food again and again… I promise, for this entry, this will be the last mention of food). We ordered Kerapu sweet n sour, oyster egg, beansprout ikan masin, kalian oyster sauce, black pepper beef with ginger, chicken soup, seafood tom yam and udang lipan with dried chilli. There were a LOT of food. The fish was huge. I tried to eat the head coz Ibu said, “Sayang kepala ikan tu, Long” so yeah, I tried to eat the fish head (but failing miserably at it; I know a friend of mine would kill me for the eyes – he likes them and I don’t know why) and also finish a few other dishes. But by the end of it, I just couldn’t eat anymore. I was just too full. My stomach felt like it was about to burst with the baby popping out anytime soon. So I stopped (yes, I’m capable of stopping just like that). The damage that night was just RM187, for 6 adults (the kids didn’t eat much). I thought it was alright considering the amount of food we had on the table.

By the time we reached our villa, we were just so very sleepy. Because the road heading towards Damai Laut is a bit scary (7km of absolute darkness and silence, through swampy mangroves and palm oil fields), Bie drove quite fast. And Marsya just had to tell a story about a ‘pocong’ which she saw on TV at her Uwan Lif’s house (Uwan Lif is my Maksu; because she stays on the 4th floor apartment and we had to take a lift to go to her place. Uwan Buai is Ibu, because our house in Seremban has a swing). What she saw was basically a comedy, so she wasn’t afraid when she relayed the story to us. But for us adults, we didn’t really like her story. I mean, the route was dark. Anything could just spring out from the side of the road, giving us a surprise of our lives. So Ibu had to gently tell Marsya not to say such things because it wasn’t nice. I guess she was also trying not to scare Marsya. But yeah, the road was just too dark so can be a little scary.

The next day, after breakfast at the resort, we packed up and left. There went our 3 days 2 nights stay at Damai Laut. We made a stop at the Lumut waterfront first because Mak wanted us to buy anchovies. I also bought a few goodies to bring back home with us. And on the way to Bidor, we stopped by the roadside to buy mangoes and limau bali (the limau bali was quite expensive there. The limau bali in Tambun was cheaper but since we were nowhere near Tambun, we just had to make do with RM18 per limau bali there).

We reached KL at 9pm. I was dead tired when we reached home. I couldn’t stand up anymore. My back hurt, my feet were swollen and I was just too exhausted to speak. By 10pm, I was already in bed, lying down. I couldn’t sleep though. Probably too exhausted from the travelling. At about 11pm, my children retired to bed and slept next to me. Nothing is sweeter than having your kids sleeping next to you like that. Raqib had his arm around my neck, whereas Marsya slept while holding my hands. It was a wonderful feeling. I sniffed their hair inhaling the wonderful smell of shampoo and kissed their eyes. When they’re asleep, they are the most adorable children in the world. But when they’re awake.. OMG, let’s just say it can be quite testy; up to the point that Marsya likened me to an evil stepmother. Can you imagine that? Hehehe.. children and their imagination.

Will post some pictures soon.

Too Many Child Abuse Cases

I was leaving the office quite late 2 days ago, and naturally, I would take the paper from the reception area so that I could read it on the way back home while riding the LRT. The front cover of the Utusan shocked me. At the left top corner of the paper was a picture of a young child who seemed to be sleeping but was bundled in white cloth. Then I saw the word ‘dera’ i.e. abuse. I turned to the appropriate page and was shocked to learn that the child, apparently a young girl aged three had died and what a beautiful name as well, Nur Dania Qistina, suspected to have been abused by the stepmother. She had about 73 injuries, and died due to internal bleeding as a result of being hit by a blunt object repetitively. I couldn’t finish reading the story. I broke down and cried. Who in the right frame of mind would abuse a young child of three years old? Hitting the child repetitively like as if she was an animal or some sort of doll or toy. A person with a right frame of mind wouldn’t even hit an animal like that. A person with good conscience and faith wouldn’t do that.

I curse upon the elders who took care of her. The father especially whom I feel wasn’t doing a good enough job as a father. He could have at least noticed that there was something odd about his daughter. But then again, he was probably an abuser himself. The soon-to-be-ex-wife did mention that he had hit his children in the past before. I mean, children are naughty and are always up to something. When we are tired and needed rest, children will always get on our nerves... trust me; I have two young children who are constantly getting on my nerves, especially when I’m tired. I hit them. Yes, I do because I believe that hitting your children allows them to understand and differentiate the right and wrong. If you hit them because you want them to learn. But if you hit them because you just want them to be your punching bag to let off steam and anger, then forget it. You do not deserve to be a parent. You do not deserve to have children. I hit my children on the hands, or pinch their legs (ever so softly, trust me.. but my daughter cries a bucket of tears, like I have hit her with a dagger or something) but never excessively. Trust me, my children are luckier than me. I grew up being pinched, slapped and hit, but thank goodness, I grew up to be ok. But that’s beside the point. This is hitting aggressively, repetitively, until the child dies. How could someone do that?

What made me mad was that the new wife told the husband that the child drowned in a pail of water. I don’t know whether the husband believed her, but the wife is obviously stupid. What with today’s modern state-of-the-art technology, it is easy to see what went wrong, or the cause of certain problems, or in this case, the cause of death, just by doing tests and post-mortems.

Gone are the days where children can rely on their parents for their own safety. If they’re not abused, they’ll be raped. I don’t know what’s going on with the world today. People are just so sick. And the fact that they are Moslems, revolt me.

What’s terrible about it is this is not the first case. Sometime last year, Malaysia was shocked with the news of the death of three year-old Syafiah Humaira who was also a victim of abuse (serious wounds in the abdomen), but this time by her mother’s boyfriend. Mind you, we’re talking about Moslems here. I don’t like being judgmental towards other people because upbringing and surrounding circumstances can affect a person’s life, and who am I to judge people and say that I’m better than them. These are all means done by Allah to see whether we can endure His tests or not. But this is one case which I just cannot tolerate. The mother lives with her boyfriend. She in fact has a husband, whom she has not divorced yet, but was serving sentence over a murder case, I think, at a local prison here. How could she not be aware that her boyfriend had been abusing her daughter? Was she so much in love with him that she refused to see any wrong-doings of the boyfriend, that she puts her boyfriend above her daughter? Her own flesh and blood? She even claimed that her boyfriend had never hit her daughter. The fact that Syafiah’s younger brother is the biological son of the mother’s boyfriend speaks for itself. It’s just something that I cannot tolerate. It’s just awful. When the news came out about Syafiah, I never wanted to read it. I prefer to not take note of what had happened. It was just wrong. I felt that there was just something very wrong with the picture. I’m glad that the boyfriend was sentenced to death. It was a good verdict. Only Allah can help him now, and his fate lies in His hands.

There was also another case, a toddler by the name of K. Haresvarran, 18 months, was believed to have died following abuse which left him with broken ribs, a ruptured liver and bruises all over the body at a children's playground at the Vista Damansara Apartments, Jalan Kenanga, Kampung Sungai Ara, Petaling Jaya. Who could do that to a barely walking 1 year and a half child? Don’t they have compassion? It’s just awful…

I really do worry about the condition of the world that we’re living in. It is getting worse by the day. All I can do is pray to Allah that my children and family are safe from it all.