Tiredness Can Lead To Anger

My routine during the Ramadhan month is a bit tiring. Basically, I wake up at 4.30am every morning for sahur, heat up the food and lay them on the table, get Bie and my brother to wake up to eat, eat and later clear the table and wash up the dishes. After that, I will iron the clothes that I am to wear to work and shower to get ready to go to work. After I am ready, I will wake Bie up and together with our Marsya and Raqib, we will go to the car and proceed to PJ, to my Maksu’s place who is currently baby-sitting both my children.

From PJ, Bie will send me to work and my day at work begins. When the clock strikes 4.30pm, I got ready to leave the office. I need to go to Maksu’s house and help her prepare the dishes for iftar. With the baby and all, it is quite impossible for her to prepare any dish alone (Raqib likes to be held these days). After iftar and Maghrib, we will get ready to go back home. Tarawikh at the surau is far from it. We will reach the house at about 9.30pm.

Before washing myself up, I will go straight to the kitchen to prepare dishes for sahur. Usually a minimum of two dishes. If Maksu packs some food then I don’t have to prepare anymore dishes. If I’m lucky, Raqib will be fast asleep. If I’m not, I have to put Raqib to sleep first, then cook. After the baby’s asleep and the foods have all been prepared, I will wash myself, pray and get ready to go to sleep. That is if my daughter isn’t showing any tantrum and doesn’t allow me to go to sleep. And that was what happened last night.

I was in the kitchen preparing food and suddenly there was a cry in the bedroom. Marsya was having nightmares. She was crying at the top of her lungs. Raqib was asleep and I was afraid that her crying was going to wake him up. I went to her cot and tried to coax her into going back to sleep, but she pushed my hand away and kept on crying. Bie wasn’t around. He had to go to Mont Kiara for work.

Her crying got rather loud. I ignored her and went back to the kitchen. For about 20 minutes, she cried non-stop. I went to her cot again and gently told her to go back to sleep. But she would not. The crying still went on. And for no reason whatsoever, I became angry. Very angry. I had to tell myself to be patient and that she was just a little child. But her screaming got to me. And the fact that she didn’t want to stop angered me even more. So I did the unthinkable. I slapped her hard on the thigh. She stopped crying and looked at me in shock. And her cries after that were even harder and louder. I went back to kitchen muttering to myself. Obviously mad at her and mad at myself for not being able to control it.

I felt bad. I went back to the bedroom and gently asked her what she wanted. She said she wanted water. She was thirsty. I felt awful. Here was my daughter wanting water and what did she get from me? A hard slap on the thigh. My eyes were stinging and within seconds, tears were streaming down my eyes. I got her a cup of water and held on it while she drank. I kissed the crop of her hair. She seemed so helpless. Eyes puffy with all the crying. Then I placed the cup on the dressing table and hugged her tight. I picked her up and held her tight to my bosom and brought her outside in front of the TV.

On the sofa, she held on me tight, no longer crying and told me that her thigh hurt. I felt awful. She was no longer crying, instead, I was the one who was crying. I laid her on the sofa and lie next to her, hugging her, coaxing her into going back to sleep. She didn’t go back to sleep so I had to appease her. Talk to her and play with her while Sesame Street was on.

At 12 something in the morning, Bie came back. I told him that my head was hurting and I needed to sleep badly. So he asked me to go to the bedroom and sleep. Marsya was all tantrums again wanting to sleep with me, wanting me to hug her. So Bie laid her on the bed next to me, and she fell asleep hugging me.

I was so ashamed at what I did. I was dead tired but of course that was no excuse to get angry with your child and slap her… [sigh]. These are testy times for me. I pray to Allah to give me the strength to go on. I am positive that things will be better soon, Insya Allah and I vow to try not to raise my hand on my children unless I really have to and that’s to teach them between right and wrong. Not to vent anger and frustration. I pray for Allah to give me that strength. Amin.

DNA Tests Confirms it

I feel so sad. I couldn’t believe my eyes as I read the news. It can’t be. It can’t be Nurin. Sweet Nurin whose pictures are all over the place. The girl found had short hair and weighed only 18kg. There was no BCG on her and she had a birthmark on her thigh. Her teeth were also gaping. Nurin’s father said the girl was not his. His girl has nice teeth and no birthmark. But DNA tests have confirmed it. And it is very hard to ignore the results of a DNA test.

I can’t imagine being in her father’s place right now. I know that DNA tests are strong and valid, but deep in my heart I hope that the poor girl is not Nurin. I hope that there was some mixed up or something and that the results were wrong. I hope that Nurin will come home safely. I hope…

Whatever it is, arwah Nurin is in my prayers. I hope she didn’t have to endure much before she passed on. I hope that Allah had taken her life just before she could feel all the pain. I pray for her soul and the souls of all other little girls who died after being sexually assaulted, like Nurul Huda, the Gelang Patah case and Harirawati in Kota Kinabalu.

We live in a wicked, wicked place. Do take care of your loved ones, and do pray that these sick bastards will not harm our children anymore.

Such Tragedy

I just saw the paper and the headline “Child Found Sexually Assaulted and Killed” got my attention. I didn’t see the news last night so I wasn’t aware of this particular incident.

I read through it and was schocked to the bones when I found out what it was about. I couldn’t believe it. My eyes were stinging and without I realize it, I began to sniffle. A six to nine year old girl’s naked body was found in a sports bag at a staircase of a shop lot in PJ. There were bruises on her neck, hands, and a post mortem revealed that a cucumber and a brinjal were found in the girl’s private parts.

She was still a very young child, for God’s sake. How could this sick bastard do that? The person who did this should not be left alive. I feel that his testicles should be cut off, a huge pipe be inserted in his anus, then tie him to a truck and drive the truck at at least 80km per hour. If he’s still alive after that, do not treat him. Stone him and let him die a slow and painful death.

I know it’s evil of me to conjure up such things for him but I am so angry. I am very angry. Shocked and goodness, no other words can describe my feelings at the moment. I truly oppose violence and death to young children.

What is happening to the Malaysian society? I so fear for my children’s safety. I don’t know what will happen to me if my children are faced with such violence and cruelty. I can’t imagine how the girl’s parents must have felt when they learnt the news. It’s terrible. Malaysia is no longer peaceful. We have many maniacs living among us and it’s very scary to know that these maniacs may be those that we know or are close to. I curse whoever did this. I do. I hope the police will find him soon and I hope he’ll get what he deserves.

My condolences go to the parents. I can’t give much of kind words and gestures because truly I’d hate to imagine how they’re feeling at the moment. One can only imagine, but the parents are the ones who are facing it. I pray that the girl’s soul will be placed with the sinless and the righteous, and that her perpetrator will be executed fairly i.e. a slow and painful death.

Puppy Love

I was at the hospital yesterday to meet my surgeon and gynecologist. Suddenly, a familiar face walked in. Though slightly chubbier with a little touch of beard and moustache, I know that I will always recognize the face. In fact, my heart was thudding quite fast the minute I realized who it was.

He went straight to a lady wearing a head-dress and sat down next to her. I tried not to look at him but it was difficult. I just had to see his face to satisfy my curiosity. I just wanted to know whether it was him. But of course, I myself was acting cool. I pretended not to see him. But I was caught. As I waited to see Dr As, he and the lady moved to a sofa opposite of me. Man, now I can’t pretend not to see him. But still I ignored him. I played with Raqib and at the same time talked to Marsya. Bie was at the counter sorting out my bills.

Suddenly the nurse called out my name, asking me to get weighed. I passed Raqib to Bie and went to the scale. My weight was alright. But I think I still need to work on the excess fats. Anyway, as I walked back to the sofa, I couldn’t resist myself. I mean, I can continue to play the ‘ignore game’ or asked him if he was who I thought he was. So I walked up to him and said, “Excuse me, but are you A?”. He smiled and looked at me. His face clearly showed that he still remembered me but his response was otherwise. He said, “Yes, I am”.

All nervousness was gone. He said he thought it was me, but he wasn’t sure until the nurse called out my name. I immediately introduced him to Bie. Bie asked us how we got to know each other. I gave a simple reply not wanting to give too much information. A was being nice though and told Bie that we were from the same residential area i.e. ‘setaman’. In fact, he still remembers where I live. I smiled. How could he forget where I live? And as for me, I sure as heck know where he lives. It was such a small world. His wife’s gynecologist was actually the same as mine.

We talked. The way he talks was somewhat familiar. I couldn’t let my eyes off his face. Bie didn’t notice anything though. His wife was friendly too. Apparently they have three kids now, the eldest being seven years old. I know. He was married when I was still doing my degree. We exchanged cards and since he’s an old friend, Bie is thinking of inviting him and the family if we decide to do any ‘makan-makan’ later.

Seeing him brought back nice memories. I got to know him when I was in Form 4. We didn’t go to the same school. His was a neighbouring school whereas mine was the glamorous one in town (I can’t resist. I just have to say it.. hehehe) I somehow have a huge crush on him. Totally huge. And he was aware of that. We would meet at the bus stand and go back together in the bus since we both stay in the same ‘taman’. We have never actually dated outside, alone. But we were constantly on the phone. And if he was playing soccer with some friends at the football field in the evenings, I would be there at the field, watching him. I liked him. To the max. In fact, I was obsessed with him. My friends knew this and at one point or another, he became aware of this as well. It was really my very first crush that I thought was really serious. I didn’t have boyfriends after I met him. In fact, I would put him as a benchmark whenever a guy approached me. He actually made quite a huge impact on my adolescent life. He was also the first guy that I have ever confessed of liking. Even at that time he had a girlfriend. I don’t know why we never made it as a couple. Yeah we flirted, but that was it. I mean, I couldn’t very well ask him to be my boyfriend. He had to make the first move. But he didn’t. I learnt from friends (yes I had spies at his school… hehehe) that the boyfriend-girlfriend arrangement he had with his girlfriend too was not his doing. The girl started it. He went along with it and of course after that, he must have liked her.

I remember when I first saw him walking with his girlfriend towards the bus stand (he had to walk around my school coz my school was smack in the middle of the town) and my friends saw him. They made a buzz. I was upset (silly isn’t it? well that’s what being a teenager is all about) and the song ‘Teratai Layu di Tasik Madu’ became my companion (thinking about it now made me feel stupid… hehehe). And that was how I knew he had a girlfriend. But we remained as friends. All the way till after school, when the SPM results were announced. He borrowed my video tapes and would come to my house to return them. We would sit outside near the gates and talked. His friends would pass by on motorcycles and he would wave to them. At that time, I think he had split from his girlfriend. But I don’t know why he didn’t ask me to become his. I probably wasn’t pretty enough, I don’t know.

But yeah, from thereon whenever I met a guy, A would always be the benchmark. I don’t know what it is about him that got me attracted. I guess it was the way he talked, or his charms. He wasn’t THAT handsome and he was dark, but to me at that time, he was the most handsome and charming guy in the whole world. Even Ibu knew about him. When I was in the UK, Ibu called me just to let me know that A was getting married. Though I had been out of contact with him for a few years back then, somehow the news made me upset. And I was even with Bie at that time. I still remember Bie saying, “You dah ada I kan, buat apa you nak sedih?”. I couldn’t help it. He was my extreme puppy love.

On the way home from the hospital, I revealed to Bie who A was. His expression immediately changed, he laughed out loud, and said, “I rasa I lagi hensem daripada dia” i.e. Bie thinks he’s more handsome than A. Looking back, yes. Bie probably is. Well, not so much of the handsome bit but more to the appearance bit. Bie still has his youthfulness when he presents himself. His appearance doesn’t make him look old though he’s got plenty of grey hairs now. Though he wears collared t-shirt and slack, he doesn’t look like someone’s old uncle. He still has fashion sense that makes him look good. To me at least (I may be biased coz after all I am his wife). And me, well I am not really a fashion icon, trust me but somehow we try to emulate one another; make each other look good in our own weird ways. And I like that. It’s comforting. As for A, well… he looks more like someone’s old uncle now. His wife also looks like someone’s aunt. But they both complement each other rather well. So I guess it’s fair. Me and Bie, A and wife.

So there, it was good to see him. A lot of fond memories flashed back, but I don’t think I’d trade Bie for him. At that time I didn’t know who Bie was. Bie had not yet existed in my life. But the minute he existed, he was my first real love. A was just a puppy love. Nice at that time but not real enough.

Another Monday

Mondays have never been a good day for me (Bie always call my Sunday nights as a ‘get-worked-up-and-all-moody-night’ in view of the coming Monday. I’d get all moody especially when I feel tired when waking up in the morning. And rushing to get ready to work isn’t something that we refer to as a fun thing. Today is no difference.

I was from Seremban this morning. Though how hard I try to leave the house early, at least at 6.45am, I would always end up leaving at 7.00am and sometimes, a little later. And the fact that I need to go to PJ to send my kids isn’t really helping. So in the end, I’d reach the office quite late. I hate being late to the office. Bie’s working on his own. So it doesn’t really matter what time he reaches his office as long as he is there.

What pisses me off is the fact that he can remain calm about the whole thing (I know some of my girlfriends agree with me on this). And whenever I make an issue of being late and everything, he would always turn it around and make it my fault, well indirectly. It makes me so mad. I made sure that the bags are packed before I went to bed last night. I made sure that the clothes are already ironed. I woke up at 6.00am this morning, but after doing that and doing this, preparing that and preparing this, I would always end up late. He blamed it on the traffic. Hello… it’s not so much of traffic. It’s us. We have to organize our time so that we wouldn’t end up late. The traffic will always be there. So to avoid it, get around it by leaving the house early.

I reached the office at 9.00am this morning, that’s like half an hour late. I hate it. I remember when I used to drive to work by myself; I would reach the office within a range of 7.30am to 7.45am. But now with just one car at our disposal, and the fact that we have two kids to send off instead of one, I can’t enjoy reaching the office early anymore. Oh well, I can’t blame it entirely on Bie (I so badly want to point my fingers at him), I guess I am partly to blame also. But when he sees that I am already late, please oh please don’t take your sweet time and remain relaxed about it. Hasten yourself. Do whatever that is necessary to contribute to me not being late to the office.

This is just me, on a normal Monday morning. I usually get so much better after lunch, so please be patient.

Have Two of Them Now

I have been extremely busy. For those who do not know, I have returned to work from my two-month maternity leave. It’s actually very short. At first I felt that the two months was going to be long. But after I got better, I felt that the two months were just too short. There were still a lot of things I haven’t done yet. I had wanted to take an extra week off, but my boss was constantly calling me, so I had no choice but to come in right on my 61st day.

I wanted to update the blog with stories and pictures of my new baby. His name is Muhammad Raqib. But since I didn’t have the time, I couldn’t draft anything. Only some of his pictures are uploaded into my PC. Bie unfortunately has been quite busy and not at the office to do the uploading of the pictures. Nevertheless, Raqib is now 6kg. Well, I assume he’s already 6kg because during the doctor’s appointment about three weeks ago, he was already 5.9kg. That’s like 1kg every month. I’m still breastfeeding him. I have been expressing milk at the work place and Alhamdullilah, as at to date, my milk seems to be sufficient. I hope it’ll be sufficient in months to come.

Raqib is just so adorable (I’m biased coz I’m his mother) and he likes attention. He wants people to constantly talk to him. He would of course respond in his own baby-ish ways. The goo-goo and ga-ga that come from his mouth is just so ear-pleasing. I can talk to him all day. But of course, I can’t do much work then. He still has this baby smell. Frankly speaking, I don’t know this smell that people talk about. All I can smell of him is milk. My milk that is. It can be in a form of a fresh milk, or stale milk, or thrown up milk. But I love his smell all the same.

He likes to smile and I love seeing his teeth-less gums. Gums with no teeth looks so cute in a baby’s mouth, but I wonder why people, when they’ve come of age and are suddenly toothless looks really ridiculous. The mystery of the world.

Anyhow, his sister adores him very much. But she can be very jealous and possessive. Yes she wouldn’t allow other people to take her little brother (the usual, “Aunty ambik adik bawak balik boleh tak?” whereby the reply would be, “tak bolehlah”), but whenever Raqib is not lying on my lap, she would immediately scramble to her feet and climb into my lap. There were also times whereby she wanted to sleep with me but because I needed to put the baby to sleep, she became all tantrums and cried herself to sleep. On those occasions, the minute Raqib is asleep, I would go to Marsya and sleep next to her. She would be very happy. She would hug me while sleeping or read some books for me (in her own toddler language) until she fell asleep.

But she loves to whine these days. Sakit tulah, sakit nilah. And she wants me to attend to her ‘sakit’. If her father does it for her, she’d get all mad and will not stop whining until I personally look at her. I don’t blame her though. So used to being the only one that everyone pays attention to and suddenly her place is being taken over by her little brother, of course she whines and merajuk a lot. Sometimes, her constant craving for attention is just so much that Bie and I become very tired. But she is after all our eldest, so despite her constant screaming and whining, we love her still very much and try to please her in any way we can, just so that she’ll be alright during this adjustment period.

I too have some adjustments to do. Let’s just say that when both my kids cry at the top of their lungs, I have learnt to shut one ear and be deaf for a while, well at least until I finish whatever it is that I have to do. But my God, it is very hard to do. I respect those women who have more than two kids and yet are able to take care of them and do the house chores without a maid at their disposal. 110 percent respect for them.

Whatever it is, I love both my kids very much. And truthfully, I don’t mind having more, but not just as yet. Perhaps three years down the road, who knows. Anyhow, here are some pictures of Raqib.

Till Death Do Us Part

There have been no break-ups or separation in my family, which includes my aunts and uncles on both my parents’ side. That doesn’t mean that they don’t argue, coz I’m sure they do. But somehow the word ‘divorce’ is like a taboo. They’d rather stay with each other even if they’re doing two very separate thing. One would be at the golf course or hanging out with friends, while the partner would be doing over time at the office. When relatives come to visit, they’d play the role of a happy and normal couple, which I think is really weird. But separate? I don’t know whether the idea ever entered their minds.

Among my friends too, well close friends that is, not many of their parents are divorced. Their parents would have problems, but somehow, they’d stick together. I know of a friend whose father is really…err… a bit of a problem. He would have girlfriends and all, and hung out at few ‘dangdut’ spots. There was this one time, my friend’s boyfriend was playing (he’s in a band) at this particular dangdut joint and imagined his surprise when he saw his prospective, future father-in-law dancing with another woman who was not his wife. My friend was really upset but when she told her mother, her mother just kept quiet. The last time I heard, they’re still married but just not living under the same roof.

Sometimes I wonder why these couples stay together if emotionally and perhaps physically, they have already drifted apart from one another. Is it for the children? But what if the children have all grown up? I’m sure they would understand if their parents want a divorce. But come to think of it, would I be able to accept the idea that my parents are going to get a divorce? This is hypothetically speaking, ok. My parents are not divorced.

I don’t know. It’s hard to say. Some couples stay together for the sake of the children. But when the children have all grown up and are mature to understand what’s going on, they head for Splits Ville. I wonder what it’s like for those children. Would they be ok with it? Would they hate their parents’ guts? Would they have taken a different view if their parents were to have divorced when they were much younger?

It’s really nice to see some couples who not only stay old together, but are still loving and caring towards one another. The fact that they are not embarrassed to show the affections they have is even more remarkable. But alas, not many Malaysians are like that. Sad to admit it, but it’s true. I guess it’s the culture. Well, I pray that I am one of those couples. And I pray that my parents are one of those happy couples as well.

Tagged For Charity

Actually, I don’t know how this meme helps me contribute towards the Darul Izzah Orphanage. But I guess there’s no harm in doing it, since I’ve been tagged to do it. Anyway, for more information, read the short note below:

The original meme sender, Bro Idham needed 100 memes by 26th August. Once this tag is done, please leave a comment on his blog to inform him that you have done the tag.

If you are tagged, you need to write an entry related to the meme. At the end of your entry you just need to tag as many bloggers as you like. You will then leave a comment in their blog to let them know they have been tagged. And to include this message, "By doing this meme you are contributing RM127 to the Darul Izzah Orphanage".

Then please copy and paste this rule somewhere in your entry.

The meme is about completing at least seventeen out of the following twenty seven sentences.

*These can be copied and pasted to your entry*

1. A person is only as good as ... his or her integrity, sincerity, manners and pure thoughts.

2. Friendship is always ... something important regardless of your status, age and surrounding.

3. To love is to... have someone to share your feelings, your thoughts, your sorrow, your happiness and everything else beyond that.

4. Money makes me... in a way, happy because I know I can afford to buy things and live comfortably, my way at least.

5. I miss ... single life where I can just do whatever I want without having to worry about the house, the kids, the husband.

6. My way of saying I care is by ... keeping in touch with those I care be it through the phone, or emails or making time to visit and meet up.

7. I try to spread love and happiness by... being myself by chit chatting, crack jokes, send long emails and quirky text messages, listen to people when they have problems and whatever else that those who love me know I would do.

8. Pick the flowers when... they are intended for me.

9. To love someone is to... share your feelings and thoughts, just like item 3 above.

10. Beauty is... subjective and depends on one’s eyes and perception.

11. When I was thirteen, what I remember the most was... the surprise party my classmates threw for me when they learnt that I was going to go back to Malaysia for good.

12. When I was twenty one, I remember... the Girls throwing a small party just amongst us when we were in Dilston Road where they asked Kak Amy downstairs to bake a chocolate cake for me.

13. I am most happy when ... I know that those I love are happy and well and that I get to spend quality time with my husband and two kids.

14. Nothing makes me happier than ... knowing that the people around me are happy, well basically the same as item 13 above.

15. If I can change one thing, I will change... my salary, perhaps give myself a generous raise and a good bonus.

16. If smiles were.... contagious, I think all my face muscles would be screwed up coz I was smiling too much.

17. Wouldn't it be nice if we could... eliminate all the evil in the world so that the world becomes a safe and nicer place to live in.

18. If you want to ... gain people’s respect ...then you have to ... start respecting people.

19. Money is not everything but... considering today’s current living situation, having money and a lot of it, is very helpful indeed.

20. The most touching moment I have experienced is.... when I become Mrs Bie.

21. I smile when... I see anyone looking at me.

22. When I am happy, I... would be talking, smiling and laughing a lot.

23. If only I don't have to ... get a maid to take care of my children, but alas, considering the current arrangement, what choice do I have.

24. The best thing I did yesterday was... enjoy lauk sardin for the first time since my confinement period.

25. If I ever write a book, I will give it this title... " Unspoken Conflicts"

26. One thing I must do before I die is... ensure that my children will be well taken care of.

27. Doing this meme, I feel like ... deep in thoughts coz the meme opened my mind to some things which I have never thought about.

I have no particular person to tag.

Food Glorious Food

I love to eat and I eat all sorts of food. Bak kata orang, tolak batu and kayu je. And of course those which we’re forbidden to eat.

I love western food. I don’t know why. I guess the way the vegetables are cooked, or the way that the chicken or steak is grilled. They’re just so delicious. And the salad is just much better than the ones I do at home. I like Italian food as well, be it the normal pasta dish or lasagna, or fine dining food. I love them all.

I also like Thai food. I have eaten at quite a few Thai restaurants (except for Amarin Heavenly Thai at Mid Valley) but none of the dishes are as Thai and tasty as the D’Chengmai restaurant in Sungai Buloh. The Tom Yam is to die for, the best I have had so far in comparison with all the other Tom Yam I have tasted. The pandan leaf chicken is also delicious. The texture is soft and you can taste the ingredients right to the core of the pandan leaf chicken. And being original Thai, the dishes are filled with a lot of chilies. So yes, they are hot and spicy, but worth trying because they’re so good.

I also like Chinese and nyonya food. I don’t like much of the economy rice, but other hawker type of dishes are good. But it’s quite hard to find halal Chinese food unless I go to expensive restaurants and hotels. I have heard that a Mualaf has opened a Chinese restaurant somewhere in Taman Shamelin called Adam’s café. I might check that out later. They say the food is also good.

I also love Penang food. I mean, what is not to love about Penang food. The best nasi kandar can only be found in Penang. I tried other nasi kandar here in KL but somehow the best is in Penang. And there’s also this rice dish called Nasi Dalca. Pun sedap jugak. They also say that the best prawn mee can also be found in Penang. Unfortunately I didn’t get a chance to check that out when I was in Penang (the best prawn mee outlet was closed when I went there) so I only eat prawn mee at Little Penang in Mid Valley. Ironically though, the prawn mee at Little Penang used to be so tasty. Nowadays, it’s ok. I wonder where I can get a really good prawn mee. That’d be great.

However, I’m not much into Japanese food. I don’t know why. Teppayaki is ok, but other than that, I don’t think I know how to eat them. Surprisingly though, I kind a like smoked or raw salmon. Weird eh.

All in all, I just love food. So, if anyone out there knows of a great eating place, let me know and I will try my very best to check it out.

Finally… The Wedding

It’s set. My brother is getting married end of this year to his fiancée. The date is 28th December 2007. Well, the akad nikah will happen on that day, Insya Allah. I was hoping that they’ll get married early next year but apparently, his fiancée’s mother had been pushing and pestering him (yet again) on the wedding date. I am so ‘menyampah’ and quite thankful really that she’s not my mother-in-law.

The engagement itself which happened in mid-May this year was also another spectacle. Her mother was so noisy, talking to her friends loudly even during the important discussion between my side and hers. It was so ‘kampung-like’. And the funny part was that, her family gave my family three options on the dowry or ‘duit hantaran’. Option 1 is to give all the duit hantaran to her family half way before the wedding date. Option 2 is give half of the duit hantaran half way before the wedding date. Option 3 is to give the whole of the duit hantaran on the wedding date. I was annoyed when I heard it. The duit hantaran was supposed to be used to start off the couple’s married life, not to give to her family to cater for THEIR wedding expenses. Well that’s the way I see it. If others see differently, then let them. The three options itself was enough to make me mad. Furthermore, her mother wanted them to be married in August. And me, being a person who could not conceal my expression, I was mad and furious. But I quickly hid my face behind my fan (which I was waving like mad because I was hot). What makes me even more mad was the fact that when the negotiator said that the wedding may not happen in August, with a ‘selamba’ face she said, “Tak kisah. Kita ikut ajer”. Ironically the negotiator said, “Eh tak kisah pulak. Tadi iyer-iyer nak suruh buat bulan lapan”. I mean, how hypocritical is that? I was damn furious and I know Ibu and the rest of my relatives ‘memang menyampahlah’.

Well, when it comes to that sort of thing, my brother suddenly does not know what to do. I bet that if her mother pushes him to give all the duit hantaran half way before the wedding date, he will definitely do it. My Acik and I have told him that we will give the duit hantaran during the wedding in a form of a bank draft bearing his fiancée’s account number and name. What happens then, we leave it to God. Whenever I think about it, I become so ‘menyampah’. The nerve. I hope her family won’t take any advantage of my brother and that my brother does not forget that he also has parents to go back to. So takderlah everytime nak balik B***** jer. Belum apa-apa lagi, my brother wants to rent a place in Bukit Jalil, near his future sister-in-law’s house. He said it’s near the LRT station so he doesn’t have to send the future wife to work. I wonder who gave him that idea. Gosh, I despise the family already.

But in support of my brother, I will try assist him in the wedding preparation in any way that I can. After all, I am the oldest in the family and I know that though he does not say it out loud, he definitely needs my approval and help.

Miss Single Life

I am 30 (well, I still have a few more months before turning 31), married to a wonderful man, have two children (it’s kind a cool that I can say two instead of one…hehehe), have a secure job (though I may beg to differ on the pay) and a roof over my head which I’m not renting, but actually own. Yeah, I guess life couldn’t be better. But sometimes, on those rare occasions, I miss being single. I don’t WISH to be single, but yes… I do MISS being single. There is a difference between the two.

My single life before I got married was fantastic. I hung out with friends even on working nights. We didn’t go clubbing or anything, it was basically just hanging out in Subang eating kuey teow goreng or roti canai at the mamak shop. Catch up on latest gossips and talk about eligible handsome guys. Those girls know who they are. Sometimes, these girls would bring their friends along and we would get to know them. It was just way super cool.

I also hung out with my Seremban buddies quite a lot. When I was still working at the Maxis Tower, I would meet the guys nearly everyday. I would take the LRT to Kelana Jaya and they would pick me up there. Again, we didn’t go clubbing or anything. We just hung out at Steven’s at Damansara Uptown and chit chat. Though we met nearly everyday, there would always be stuff to talk about. Sometimes I would go to their apartment. There was this one time, I went to Black’s apartment. He was supposed to get ready for dinner but he was late as usual. So I waited for him at his apartment. While waiting for him, his cousin came with his girlfriend. We exchanged a few introductory words and I continued to watch TV. Imagine my surprise when I heard kissing and smooching noises at the back. I was shocked. But I dared not turn my head to see what they were doing. Instead, I got up, knocked hard on Black’s door and asked him to hurry up. All I wanted to do was get out of the apartment. When I told Black what I heard, he laughed hard. Well sorry, I thought it was gross.

We also went places to hang out. Like at the beach (never further than Port Dickson, I don’t know why) and at Sunway Lagoon. Sunway Lagoon was cool. There were seven of us and each of us had their own crazy behaviour and that made Sunway Lagoon one of my most favourite memories. Either way, I will treasure those memories very much. We were so close-knitted that we were like a family. My parents believe them very much that they didn’t mind I went places with them. All of them, except Black, are married now. And I know for sure that they cherish the memories as well.

With another set of Seremban friends, we hung out on weekends. We would always go out for supper at Seremban 2 or Bashir (a mamak shop in Seremban). We would return in the early morning. Fortunately my parents were alright with it. Well, they knew who I hung out with. But I have to admit that Ayah was a bit worked up about it. He was constantly reminding me not to come back too late. Ibu surprisingly was ok with it. I guess she trusted that I wouldn’t do anything stupid. And yes, I don’t think I did anything stupid.

It was lucky that my dearest Bie didn’t control me before I got married. I could hang out with any friend I wanted, be it male or female and all I had to do was just inform him, not seek permission. There is a difference between the two. And that was how I treated him as well. Though we had each other, I still went on life with my friends. He still went to HRC with his friends. I thought that kind of relationship was cool. In fact even after we’re married, he still let me out with my friends. I believe that you shouldn’t stop seeing your friends just because you got married. Sometimes, when you have problems, you need your girlfriends more than your husband. I’m not saying that the husband doesn’t understand, but sometimes a girlfriend’s ear is more comforting. Trust me. Been there, done that.

So yeah, looking back, I do miss single life. You can do so much when you’re single. There is no issue of leaving your kids behind or when you go places, there is no need to pack a lot of bags or worry about the number of extra clothes you should bring for your kids. But, that doesn’t mean that I don’t treasure my life now. I am thankful that I have a family that I can call my own. Not disrespecting my parents or anything, but I love having a nucleus family of my own. Being a wife and a mother isn’t so bad. Different, yet challenging. So, even though I do miss being single, I don’t think I would trade it for my current life. For now.

Disappointment

Have you ever felt disappointed at a certain somebody but you can’t really say it out loud to her or his face? I know I have. Many times. But I suppressed my disappointment. I tell myself that every act done comes with a sacrifice. I am sacrificing my feelings though how hurt it may be while that somebody is also probably making similar sacrifices only I may not understand them as a sacrifice. Am I making any sense?... [sigh]

I never do like confinement period. In fact, I hate it. I feel vulnerable and sick. I can’t do much of work. I move slow and thinking about it make me depressed. The whole ‘berpantang’ ritual isn’t working for me this time round. Compared to when I had Marsya that is. And when you’re at this vulnerable place, the feeling of disappointment can quickly screw your head and you wouldn’t be able to think straight. I don’t want to call it the post-natal depression period because I don’t think I’m THAT depressed. But then again, what do I call it? The honeymoon period?

This disappointment has been with me for quite a while now. I don’t know how to say it to that somebody without either one of us getting hurt. It’s such a difficult thing to do. Do you think I should just let myself sink into this self-pity hole and consider it as a sacrifice? I don’t know what to think anymore. It’s just so frustrating sometimes.

Oh gosh, what am I rambling about... Don’t worry about it. I’m just not myself these days. Or probably it’s the lack of fresh air and sun that’s making me depressed. I can’t wait to complete my confinement period. I am so in need of a coffee and pineapple juice. And knowing Ibu, I don’t think she would allow me to have those drinks. Heck, I can’t wait to go to Starbuck or Coffee Bean soon for a cup of nice and tasty coffee. Or a black coffee at any kopitiam outlet. That would be good too.

… but why do I still feel disappointed?

Thank You

Who doesn’t argue with their other half, eh? I mean, everyone does, right? I know that there have been countless times that I argued with my dearest Bie. They’re all over small things. Things which other people find they’re ok with but to me, they’re just huge. That’s me, being ever so dramatic.

Put aside all those petty things, Bie has been nothing but wonderful (at times) and helpful. When I was at the hospital, Bie was there for me the whole time. In fact, he stayed at the hospital with me. He helped me bathe, wear my clothes, put ointment on my tummy and feet and later put my socks on, expressed breast milk (with a breast pump, ok… don’t get any ideas… at that time, I had trouble sitting up straight and pumping milk simultaneously coz it was the day after my surgery), took crap from me when I was in pain, and the list goes on and on.

Looking back, I felt really thankful for having a husband like that. Sure he’s not Mr Romantic and he can be very oblivious to his surroundings at times… but when I needed help, he was there for me. Emotionally and physically. When I was jabbed with morphine, he sat next to me and put his hand on my head and played with my hair until I fell asleep. When I was uncomfortable at night, he would prop up pillows on my sides and lowered the bed for me. He would also cover my body with a blanket to ensure that I didn’t get cold. In fact, whenever I needed something, he was always there for me. Never grunting, he just went ahead and did it.

During my confinement, I had to send my daughter to my Aunty’s place because my mother couldn’t afford to take care of me, my baby and her. Since my so-called maid hasn’t arrived yet (yeah, I am deciding to take a maid), Ibu has difficulty taking care of everything. And Bie is not with me everyday. He comes back only on weekends, with Marsya. And oh God, it’s just so difficult not having my daughter around. I cried every time I hear her voice on the phone. Anyway, Bie has been taking good care of Marsya. Since I have the baby to take care of together with the fact that I am still not strong enough, Bie has been doing much of the work. Bathing Marsya, feeding her, ‘layan-ing’ her, washing her poo-poo, making her milk, etc… etc. I can’t thank him enough for that. I know that he’s the father, so he should be doing all that. But I do know of certain fathers who would run a thousand miles if they smell poo-poo on their children.

So Bie, thank you very much for everything. You have been great. I pray that we can be there for each other until fate tells us otherwise… Insya Allah.

Things You'll Just Never Forget

The Pain

I felt the pain since Saturday, but because they were irregular and bearable, I never mentioned the pain to anyone. Besides, I wasn’t sure whether the pains were actually contraction pains. I know that I have already given birth before and it still wasn’t that long ago, but I wasn’t sure whether the pains were contraction pains. I kept thinking that they were probably gasses because I wasn’t eating.

The pains came and went. I wasn’t about to go to the hospital because the pains were probably false alarms. But I did tell my dearest Bie about it. He was relaxed as well. I guess the hospital being very near the house and all, he wasn’t particularly worried. So we still went out to have dinner. In fact, on Monday we went to TGI at the Life Centre. We were stuffed. I had trouble getting up and my big stomach wasn’t helping much.

On Wednesday, Bie had to go to Seremban for a meeting. I was left alone at the house. Somehow, I felt a little worried. But I was confident that nothing would happen. After all the pains were there since Saturday. But at 6pm, the pains became more frequent. Every 20 to 15 minutes or so. And whenever the pains came, I would be sweating heavily, as a result of trying to alleviate the pains. Bie was still in Seremban. My mind was telling me that I had to go to the hospital but there was no one to take me there.

At 7.30pm, the pains were becoming unbearable. I had to hold on to tables, chairs and Bie’s stereo speaker to stand the pain. Big sweats were rolling down my forehead and cheeks. I called Bie. He was on his way home (and driving like mad…). But he was in Nilai. Still a long way to go. As I was leaning against the speaker, the doorbell rang. I opened the door and there stood my sister-in-law. She received a call from Bie and her husband and rushed to the house to see how I was doing. I could barely stand up. She was a little panicky and immediately took me to the hospital.

The Wait

We reached the hospital at 8pm. The doctor just left so the nurse checked me. My opening was only about 1 to 2 cm. I was disappointed. I wanted to go back. But the nurse told me that I had to be warded. Man, how I hated it. I prefer to face the contraction pains at home, not the hospital. But I was warded. The nurse put a certain kind of apparatus on top of my tummy to monitor the baby’s heart beat. At the same time, it was also monitoring my contraction.

My sister-in-law, Kak Ita told Bie to go home first and sort out my ‘hospital bag’. So he went home, showered then came to the hospital. Kak Ita was at the hospital the entire time keeping me company. The contraction pains were about 8 to 10 minutes apart now. I couldn’t lie down. It was too painful. So I held on to bed posts, chairs… anything that could help me. Not long after, my in-laws came. Unfortunately, their visit was not helping. Their talking and bickering were causing me headache considering I had these pains to face. So Kak Ita told them to leave (very nicely). They left half an hour after that.

At 10.45pm, the nurse came again to check my opening. Despite the strong pains, the opening was only 2 to 3 cm. I was again disappointed. I was expecting at least 5 cm. Kak Ita sighed and predicted a long night ahead.

Bie stayed with me until after 12am. But since it was an open ward, he had to go. I was particularly sad to see Bie leave. I was in pain and I wanted him to stay with me, to just be there for me. But rules are rules, so at 12.20am, he left.

My doctor came to check on me at 12.30am. Surprisingly, she told me that my opening was already 8 cm and that I was ready to give birth. I was shocked. Less than two hours ago, it was only 2 to 3 cm. She instructed the nurses to bring me to the labour room. I called Bie and told him that I was about to be in labour. He was surprised and drove back to the hospital. At 12.50am, I was wheeled into the labour room.

The Delivery

The doctor broke my water bag and asked me whether I was ready to push. Frankly, I didn’t feel the urge to push at all. I wonder how some people said that giving birth is easy; it’s like passing motion and within the next minute, the baby pops out from beneath. Well I wasn’t like that. In fact, the feeling to push did not exist. All I could feel were the contraction pains getting stronger. So the doctor left the labour room to give me time. Bie was standing next to me, keeping me company. About 15 minutes later, the doctor came back and asked again whether I wanted to push. I replied, “No”.

But somehow or rather, the next thing I knew, I was pushing. It wasn’t because I wanted to. The feeling wasn’t there. It was more like an obligation because my water bag had broken and the doctor was standing in front of my wide opened legs.

The pains became terribly unbearable. Believe it or not, embarrassed to say this but I screamed at the top of my lungs when I had to push. It was, oh my God… VERY painful. I could stand the contractions, but the actual delivery, was oh my God. I was perspiring. I pushed as hard as I could but the baby wouldn’t pop out. I even had the time to think about how other people manage to do this without any problem. The doctor and the nurses were telling me how to push. Bie was constantly telling me to look at the doctor while pushing as it would help the baby come out. But at that point in time, I couldn’t listen to any instruction at all. I was crying, moaning and screaming in pain. I didn’t feel like pushing anymore and the fact that the doctor was inserting her fingers inside me trying to get hold of the baby’s head, wasn’t helping because it was painful.

I guess at one point, my doctor was tired of my ‘nonsense’ (I was in terrible pain) and said that I had to push or else she would c-sect me. I pushed again with all my might and with a help of a vacuum, the doctor managed to get the baby out (I could feel her inserting the vacuum inside me… well, at least I think I did). The time was 2.20am and it was a very early Thursday morning, 24th May 2007.

It was a boy. He was all purple. The nurses immediately took him to get the water out of his mouth. I was relieved. Maximum relief. I felt all the pains I had earlier disappeared into thin air. I could finally relax while the doctor stitched me up. Mind you, a lot of stitches coz I could see the thread quite long.

The doctor estimated the baby to be about 3.6kg, but imagine my surprise when the nurse weighed him, and she announced that the baby was 3.8kg. I was shocked. So did my doctor and said “No wonder you couldn’t push”. I actually sat up on the labour bed in disbelief. My baby weighed 3.8kg…

After the doctor was done with me, I was brought back to the open ward. Finally, I could rest.

The Unfortunate Further Complication

The next morning, I was really without energy. I couldn’t sit down and luckily Kak Ita was there to help me. She helped me to the toilet, she helped me with my food and she kept me company. In addition to the stitches, I had other cropping problem; hemorrhoid, which appeared with all the pushing. I had few blood clots that would not heal very well unless a surgery is done. My doctor suggested that I underwent a surgery to remove the blood clots. I was in a dilemma. Here I was trying to recuperate from my delivery but with the hemorrhoid problem, recuperating would be very difficult. After discussing with my dearest Bie, we agreed to go ahead with the surgery.

On the morning of Friday, 25th May 2007, I was wheeled into the operation theatre. I was scared. Luckily the nurses were nice and the surgeon and the anesthetist were also friendly. They tried to make me as comfortable as possible. After injecting my spine with some local anesthetics, I was asked to lie on my back and the operation began.

Thankfully I didn’t feel any pain, as a result of the local anesthetics. So whatever they did down there, I wouldn’t know. About 45 minutes or so, I was brought back to my room (I moved from the open ward to a 2-bedded room the night before). Bie was waiting for me. He kept me company for a while and left when I fell asleep.

I slept until afternoon. By late afternoon, the anesthetics began to wear off. I felt pain. Tremendous pain. I asked Bie to get me painkillers. Unfortunately the painkillers didn’t help. I was trembling and shaking with pain. Contraction pains come and go, but this pain seemed to go on forever. I asked for stronger painkillers, or anything else which would make the pain go away. The nurse came in and injected me with morphine. My arm swelled after the jab but I didn’t feel the pain. I was in too much pain from the operation. About 20 minutes later, my eyes were shut. The pains were still there but I felt them bearable. I could hear voices in the background but I had no energy to listen to them word by word. It was the first time that I became unconscious because of a drug. I only woke up at 9.30pm. By that time, the pains were controllable, thank goodness for that.

The Discharge

The next day, I had to endure pain from stitches I had due to the delivery and the operation. It was terrible. And to make matters worse, my baby had the jaundice and had to be put under the light thingy. So I couldn’t be discharged just as yet. Oh well, one more day at the hospital wasn’t so bad.

On Sunday, I was told that I can be discharged and that my baby’s jaundice had reduced; safe enough for me to take him home. I was happy. I couldn’t wait to leave the hospital and go home. So on Sunday afternoon, Bie and I brought our baby home.

Now, all I have to do is to recover during my confinement period. I have to admit that I do not like confinement period, but there’s nothing much that I can do. I just hope that I will recover fast enough so that I can take care of both my children.

Lots To Tell

I have been very busy lately. What with work (I think my bosses do not realize that I am actually in my final days of my trimester), stuff at home and other personal matters. But yes, work has been stressing me out. We’re trying to complete this deal with this ‘big-headed’ agency, and my God.. the difficulty of it is just stressing me out. I don’t even want to go there.

Apart from that, I still got sent to attend business seminars and all. Which is very interesting really because on the day that the seminar was held at the Sheraton Subang, I managed to get two free secretarial week luncheon tickets from my faourite radio station, Traxx FM to see Adibah Noor perform live at the Legend Hotel. Of course I did the unthinkable. I told my colleagues that I had to attend the seminar, when for actual fact, I went to the Legend Hotel to enjoy myself. It was really a stress-relief. The foods were good and the performance was fantastic. I actually had a good time. But when I got back to the office the next day, the stress appeared again. Out of nowhere. It was bugging me. But the best part was that, EVERYONE thought I attended the business seminar.

Anyhow, at home things are also quite fast-paced. My brother is getting engaged this Saturday. Yes, to the girlfriend whom I have been telling about. But, I’m actually ok with the idea now. So are my parents, I think. Well, what made me acceptable to the fact that they’re getting engaged is because the girlfriend has now started working (Alhamdulillah for that) at this quite well-known company providing company, legal & secretarial services. Good for her. And my brother also has another job offer (which salary is higher than mine) and he’s hoping to get his current company to counter-offer. If his company wouldn’t counter-offer, he would take up the job offer. That’s also good for him.

My dearest Bie has also been busy doing his stuff. So he’s always busy, going to the office even when it’s a holiday. I guess when you’re working on your own, holidays or no holidays, work still has to go on. He’s also been stressed lately. And as a result, his weight has dropped. Let’s just say that I now weigh more than him by 2 kg..!! How depressing is that.

Marsya has also been very active lately. She talks now. She sings and she dances. And it’s like as if she knows that a new baby is on the way because she’s been very sensitive lately. I can’t reprimand her or anything because she would have tears in her eyes and start wailing. And if I don’t take the time to calm her down, she would continue to cry until her eyes are all swollen. I feel so much love for her at the moment. Kasihan also at the fact that when the new baby comes, she wouldn’t be able to bermanja with me like she used to. Oh, and she makes time to talk to the new baby these days. Whenever she sees my bulging tummy, she would pat it and start talking to it. It really is kind of sweet.

As for me, I’m in my 38th week now. My tummy dah jatuh. Well, that’s what the majority of people I meet say and that I will deliver any time now. I don’t know. But yes, I do feel that my tummy is now like a huge bag of lead. Getting up after sitting down for quite a while can be a very challenging task. My feet are still swollen. The fact that it wouldn’t reduce to its normal size is bugging me. I have sharp pains in my back from time to time and I walk like a baby elephant. Swaying from side to side to cater for my big tummy. I sweat a lot too these days. The hot weather has not been helping. The fact that I don’t have air-conditioners at home bugs me. I am also easily irritable these days. I get angry very fast. My patience is quite short-lived. I get irritated with nearly everything.

And just because of that, I became stressed last weekend. The stress came about from a mixture of everything. From my tired body to everything that I find irritating. My dearest Bie’s antics, my brother’s ever panicky trait when he sees that things are not yet prepared for his engagement this Saturday, my Ayah’s constant reminders and questions on my brother’s engagement and other stuff (which got me irritated at some point or another), my Ibu’s endless personal errands, taking care of Marsya, and all that made me burst last Saturday that I just walked out of the house. I took the car key soon after Maghrib, told my dearest Bie to take care of Marsya and drove off. I only got back at 11pm that night.

I didn’t know where to go. I just drove to the city centre and as I approached the Seremban bus terminal, I called a dear friend and we arranged to meet at McDonald at the new Tesco. It was good. We talked. I got it all out of my system. I could see the steam of anger evaporated into thin air. It was really good. Surprisingly, my dearest Bie didn’t call. My Ayah called though; twice. He was worried that I just drove off into the night without telling anyone where I went. Thanks Pah. It was good to talk that night.

When I got home, my dearest Bie and I talked. I told him all the stuff that I’m not happy with especially where it concerns him. He also poured out his feelings to me. We managed to talk it out. He told me what was bugging him which I didn’t know about, and I guess the talk made me understand some of his actions. It was good talking to him.

So there, lots of stuff to tell, but no time to tell it. But yes, I am heading to B***** this Saturday, if I haven’t delivered yet and pray to Allah that if I do deliver, the baby will be fine and that there’ll be no complications at all, for both me and the baby. I really hope that things will be alright, Insya Allah.

I have been tagged to talk about my weird antics and behavior. And the best part is that, I’ve not only been tagged by one person, but two persons now. To Yamm who has tagged me on this for quite a while now (sorry dear… been extra busy to think about my own eccentric manners) and now Ryzah. So, this doesn’t leave me much choice, BUT to list down all six weird stuff about myself, and let’s just hope that I won’t embarrass myself in the process.

Weird No. 1 – I hate matches especially burnt matchsticks

I know it sounds silly, but I do. I dislike matches. I don’t know why. I just find them filthy and errr… dirty. Especially the used ones. I find the black burnt bit at the end of the matchstick especially gross. So I don’t have matches at home. I use lighters if I ever need to light anything with fire. My dearest Bie knows this of course. When he first learnt about it, he was really shocked. But now, he taunts me with it. There was one time, he asked Marsya to poke me with a matchstick. I hated that. I took the matchstick from Marsya’s hand and washed her hands thoroughly. Weird, eh?

Weird No. 2 – I don’t like cigarette ashes

I have nothing against those people who smoke, but I can’t stand those people who would just shake the cigarette ashes everywhere and throw away the burnt ones wherever they please. I mean, please place all your ashes at one designated place. It’s a lot cleaner that way. And frankly, even when a smoker places his or her cigarette ashes at one place, ashtrays or after dinner/lunch plates, I can’t bear to look at the ashtrays or the plates. I find it gross and I would quickly place them out of sight. Thank goodness my dearest Bie doesn’t smoke. Well, he stopped years ago. As for my other friends who do still smoke, well, you know what message I have for you. But, weird again, eh?

Weird No. 3 – I am very particular about smell (food or smoke) in my hair and on my clothes

I love food. I mean, who doesn’t right? But I hate it very much if the smell gets onto my hair or clothes, especially if I have just washed my hair and it smells like fruits. So, I am quite picky about the places I eat at. If a certain shop has this strong cooking smell, I would braid my hair in a plait (or French plaits) so that the smell doesn’t stick to my hair (just for the purpose of eating out. I would actually unbraid it after eating). After that, I would immediately spray myself with a lot of perfume. That’s why I have an extra perfume in my office drawer. Very handy indeed. Same goes to smoke. I’ve had an incidence where after visiting a club, the smoky smell in my hair lasted for three whole days..!! Even after washing it every day.

Weird No. 4 – RM100 for eating at Chilies is alright, but RM100 for a baju is… EXPENSIVE nyer…!!

My dearest Bie and I share the same passion for eating. And we love trying out new eating joints and restaurants, whatever the cost maybe. I’m not much of a shopper. I don’t buy clothes (only when I need to) and when there’s a sale, I rarely buy things for myself. But, I love to eat out. And even when it’s right in the middle of the month and we’re basically broke, but because I feel like eating at a certain place, we would just go. And of course, I would use my credit card. In fact, I only use my credit card when I eat out. I don’t shop with it (only on those very, very rare occasions).

Weird No. 5 – Geli at kain buruk and sticky floor

When I was smaller, I used to find kain buruk very filthy and icky even if it’s clean, and if Ibu asked me to fetch the kain buruk, I would hold it at the tip, give it to her, and quickly wash my hands. Same with sticky floor. If I encounter a sticky floor, and I’m barefooted, I would be walking on it like I’m walking on ice. Very carefully, making sure that only the necessary part of my feet’s surface touch the floor. My daughter now follows me. She’s a penggeli so to speak. But I am much better now. I don’t find kain buruk very icky (unless if it’s not mine) and yeah, I can tolerate sticky floor. Just wash your feet afterwards.

Weird No. 6 – I can drop off to sleep in a matter of seconds

Bie always says that one minute I’m all chirpy and eager to engage in a conversation and the next thing he knows, while still talking to me, I would be fast asleep. And that never fails to astound him. Of course I always deny, but come to think of it, yeah… I tend to do that a lot. Especially in the car, we would be playing the ABC games (to avoid him from falling asleep) and while thinking, suddenly I’m asleep. Oh well.

Frankly, I don’t know who else to tag. But just for the fun of it right, I think I’m going to nominate the following persons to share with us their weird behaviours. If you don’t have a blog, no worries, list them here, in the comment box. Now let me see. Who shall it be?

Pah – I think she still owes Yamm as well
The Pisces Man – Or errr, have you done it already?
Murn – I don’t know if you’ve been visiting my blog, but it’d be really nice to see you respond to this
Zha – Masa free tu ke, indulge yourself into thinking your weird behaviours
Marha – Welcome to the blog, dear
I-Lyn – welcome dear (or, err… have you done it already too?)

Beginning To Feel It

I am in my 34th week now with regards to my pregnancy. And to tell you the truth, I am beginning to feel it. From tiredness to fear; everything under the sun. My back aches easily from too much standing, my feet are swollen, like some elephant’s legs, and my stomach tends to harden once in a while, especially if I’ve had something to eat. The baby moves constantly and whenever it pushes certain parts inside my stomach, I would be squirming with pain. Not so much of a hurtful pain, but more like a jolt pain that goes on for only a second or two. Don’t get me wrong, I love it when my baby moves. It shows that it’s healthy and alive, and I am forever thankful for that.

My baby now weighs 2kg and my doctor said the tendency for it to grow even bigger in the next month or so is actually quite high. And considering that Marsya was born at 3.35kg, the baby has the tendency to outweigh the sister. That scares me a lot. I mean, I hope for the baby to be healthy and all, but I also hope that it’ll not grow too big because I may have problem pushing it later during the actual delivery.

I still remember the difficulty I had when pushing to get Marsya out of me. It wasn’t very nice. The head got stuck at the canal for quite a while and my doctor was worried that Marsya might suffocate or something. Alhamdullillah, she came out alright. With the help of a nurse pushing my stomach (like I’m a stuffed turkey or something) and the doctor’s vacuuming Marsya’s head, Marsya came out fine, luckily no scar or anything. But I had to suffer on that account. Let’s just say my doctor refused to let me know the number of stitches I had. But, the pain was excruciating.

So now, I am scared. The labour pain is still fresh in my head. You know, the contractions, the pushing, the aftermath of it, the hemorrhoid (yes… I did experience that… and it was VERY painful mind you. Even more painful than the stitches themselves!). And all these are beginning to come back to me.

Every morning these days, I would wake up counting the days that I’ll be in labour. The pains I would encounter, etc… etc… I tried not to think of it, but I couldn’t help myself. When I’m not talking to anyone, or when I was focusing on doing my work, suddenly the fear appears out of nowhere and I started to think about it. I don’t feel like sharing this with my dearest Bie. I don’t know why. Maybe because he’s a man and he wouldn’t understand.

To make matters worse, I worry for my daughter lately. I worry that she may feel left out with the new baby. At this moment, all attention is on her. But with the new baby coming, she would have to share our love with the new baby. And at this moment, I have nothing but huge, compassionate love for her. I would hug her every night telling her that I love her and that no matter what, my love for her will not change. I will love her same. I say this nearly every time I am hugging her. I doubt whether she understands but I just feel that I need to tell her. And I guess it took its toll on me because last night, I had a dream. I dreamt that my baby (the new one) was upset with me because I was focusing too much on the sister. Everything is about Marsya. Even though I do stuff for the new baby, in the end, I will always go to Marsya to check on her well-being. It was like as if I didn’t care about the new baby at all.

I woke up with a sweat. God… I am thinking too much. Of course I will love the new baby. I will love the baby as much as I love Marsya. I promise to give them the same amount of love, compassion and dedication. And I pray to God that I am able to do just that.

So there… I just have so many things in my head right now. What with the never-ending work. Mind you, I still have to go to Ipoh next week for a meeting. My doctor seemed reluctant to let me go. But I feel that I have to. I need to sort this out before I deliver. I just hope that nothing out of the ordinary will happen during the trip next week.

Meanwhile, please pray that all will be fine.

Trip Last Sunday

Last Sunday we went to B***** for the getting-to-know session between the parents. Well my parents and the girlfriends’ parents. We didn’t expect to see so many people there. Apparently, nearly all of the siblings came home for the weekend, except for two of them. And all were bringing their spouses and kids. The minute we arrived, all came out at the front door looking at us (more like gawking actually). I felt like an animal in a zoo.

When we got off the car, they greeted us, friendly and all. The girlfriend was also there. Everybody was smiling. Ibu didn’t feel too happy. She felt awkward at the fact that so many of her siblings came back for the weekend.

At first, her mother didn’t talk much to us. Ibu kept quiet whereas Ayah was busy chatting with the father, introducing the whole family and telling him about our family, him being a pensioner but still lecturing on a contract basis, etc.. etc.. The mother was busy watching TV, probably a little nervous but trying to hide it by discussing what’s on TV with her kids. I thought it was rude as we were actually there sitting with her in the room. But like I said, she was probably nervous.

It was not until we were offered coffee and kuih that Ibu warmed up to the mother. I guess because at that time everyone was sitting at the dining table, so the close proximity made Ibu a little comfortable.

So they talked. Just small talks. But Ayah began to get serious and informed them of our intentions (not merisik or anything, but merely asking them of their requests). The parents didn’t say much. They kept on saying that it was up to us. They’d just follow suit. I guess I am a little surprised. I mean, they seemed to have so much to say in front of my brother but in front of my parents, they suddenly look like little cats to me. Saying that everything was up to us. So Ayah impliedly told them that he doesn’t mind for them to get engaged but it has to be proper. Ibu also mentioned that it’d be best if the girl works first before getting married because it’s unfair that she has the qualifications but she’s not working (I had to admit that it was very well said). Ayah added in that he had seen so many cases at the university; getting married so young with no taste of the outside world and suddenly the unexpected happened. He said he didn’t want that to happen to both my brother and the girl. The parents just nodded their heads and agreed. But ayah reiterated that whatever decision to be made will be between my brother and the girl. If they want to get engaged soon, then be it. Whatever it is, he just wants things to be done the proper way.

After that, we were served lunch and at about 1.30pm, we left for KL.

So now, the ball is in my brother’s court. He has to decide on when this whole thing is going to take place. I reminded him that I am already in my eight month of pregnancy and that my due date is 25th May. So he has to decide whether he wants to do it now, or after my delivery, OR after my confinement. He said he’ll take note, but whatever it is, we have to wait until the girl finishes he paper first. She’s got exam in April (for that paper that she has to re-sit for), so whatever it is, it’ll be after her exams.

So yeah, I am going to get a sister-in-law… I guess, soon.

A Mother’s Love

We don’t know the extent of a mother’s love for us, until we ourselves become mothers. That’s what I feel. We take for granted the love that our mothers shower us, thinking that it’s their forte coz after all, isn’t that what mothers are supposed to do. But sometimes we ourselves as children failed to reciprocate the love that our mothers give us. We think by giving them money or calling them to say hi, is enough to show that we love them, but believe me, those are just basically the tip of the iceberg. There is actually more to it than that. But of course, we failed to see that.

There are many types of mothers out there. There’s one who doesn’t talk much but is always taking crap (pardon my language) from other people. There are the possessive ones, the gossipy ones, the ones who can’t seem to stop talking about their children, the competitive ones, the pushy ones, the irritating ones, the ones who are overly protective, and the list goes on and on.

And we, sometimes as children, despised our mothers when they’re at their worst. We refuse to understand them and are always looking at the negative side of things. We sometimes treat our mothers with disrespect (when we’re angry about something) and always assume that our mothers are ok with it. Just give her a few days to cool off. But it doesn’t work that way.

A mother’s love for her children is actually indescribable. Do you really think that the lady who killed her two young sons because she was upset with her husband do not love her children? I feel that she loved her children very much, but her temporary insanity at that time together with bad judgment, influenced her decision to carry out the terrible deed. Who are we, the people who do not know her, comment on her or judge her? Although our hearts reached out for the boys and we were dismayed at the fact that the mother could actually kill her two kids, only Allah knows why it happened. Things happen for a reason and what better being to understand other than Allah himself.

I had an hour long conversation with Ibu yesterday and some of the things she touched upon made me have tears in my eyes. Lately, I feel that Ibu has drifted away from me. She’s busy with her personal things and I have to admit that though I’m married and all, I do feel neglected. I am always in contact with Ayah (he calls me like nearly everyday – what to do, I’m a Daddy’s girl), but Ibu… well, she’s not they type to call for unnecessary reason. She is also not the type that remembers important dates and all.

But yesterday, she made me open my eyes on what a mother’s love truly means. Though we’re all big children, but in her eyes, we’re still small. She gets hurt twice as fast if anything were to happen to us or if any of us is sad with grief. She cited one very good example; she’d rather be bitten by the mosquito rather than to see her children sleep restlessly at night. That caught me by surprise. Because of the hot weather these days, there seemed to be a lot of mosquitoes at night. I just don’t know where they come from. And I would actually stay awake just to ensure that the mosquitoes do not bite my daughter. I hate seeing her scratching here and there when she’s asleep. And when she does scratch, I would always wake up to put some lotion or ointment on the places that she was bit, whatever time that may be. So when Ibu said that, I felt emotional. Tears were welling up in my eyes, but I controlled them.

She said, “I love my children very much. There is no way for me to describe the feelings. I may not show them through tasty cooking or shower them with gifts and presents, but believe me when I say that I love each and every one of you. In my eyes, you are still very small. I am tired of crying, and I don’t want to simply cry if my child upsets me. I don’t want you to be sinned for every tear that dropped because believe me, I don’t want that for my children. But I sometimes wish that my children would understand me. You’re a mother now. I’m sure you know how much a mother loves her child”.

So from today onwards, I vow to accept her views and understand her actions. I will try to be more supportive and be her shoulder to cry on or let out any frustration when she needs it. I will also try to bite my tongue and not answer her back or comment negatively when she is telling me certain things (if I do comment, I would have to ensure that the comments will not hurt her). She is after all my mother and I want her to know that I will love her to the max until the day that Allah calls her to meet Him.

One Time Ago

I had just finished lazing around after four months of my graduation and decided to look for work. The perfect place where they say the job market was vast and competitive was KL. So I looked through the papers and started scouring for job vacancies. One particular advertisement grabbed my eye. It sounded good so I thought, why not check it out.

So I went to KL the next day, looked for the building and entered the office. It looked impressive and the people were smartly dressed. I was excited. I had my resume at hand and was told to fill in a few forms before they call me for interviews.

They liked me and wanted me to start work the next day. I was surprised but happy that I had finally found something. So I went back to the office the next day, ready and excited to embark on something new. We were ushered into a room where a staff presented some very interesting facts about the organization and the income that one could earn there. But, I was in a surprise soon after that. Apparently, the company was involved in the commodity market, supposedly in Hong Kong. So we had to come by the office at night to study the commodity market and source for potential clients.

I felt cheated. And vowed not to go back there the next day. My sentiments were shared by a new friend I found at the office, a newly-recruited employee like me called Henry. He was half-Thai and half Indian. So we got on to talking, and exchanged numbers.

We continued to keep in contact, for short coffee break or meet ups, even after I got my first proper job at Maxis Tower. One day, he asked me out. He fetched me at the office and we went to Damansara. He brought me to a pub he usually frequented and introduced me to some of his friends. They were a nice bunch. Very chatty and friendly. Some of them were playing darts while some of them were just hanging out and talking. As it was close to dinner time, I felt hungry. At first Henry just wanted to eat at the pub but I felt uncomfortable coz I wanted to talk to him where the noise was less without any interruption from his friends. Besides, I wanted to go to Stevens’ at Damansara Uptown. I just could not resist the food there.

So we went there to have our dinner. And we talked. About a lot of things. It was actually fun. We stayed until after 10pm when suddenly he received a call from his friends. They were having a dart contest or something and they wanted him to return to the pub to take place in the team. At first he was reluctant to do so but because the team had no other player, he had no choice but to join the team. He was very upset. He wanted to hang out with me but he had to go.

I told him that I was ok with it. Except that I needed some sort of transport to send me back home because I went there with him. He realized that but could not send me because his friends were being very persistent, calling every other five minutes or so. So, in the end, he hailed a taxi for me and asked the taxi driver to take me home safely. He took the driver’s number and car registration, and repeatedly told the driver to take care of me and would be looking for him if anything was to happen to me. The driver smiled and assured him that he would take me home safely. I don’t know how much he paid the taxi driver but the driver was beaming from ear to ear.

Before I got into the taxi, he faced me and looked at me straight in the eye. I felt uncomfortable and told him not to look at me like that. He suddenly took my hands into his and confessed that he liked me. Though I had a boyfriend at that time, he didn’t care. He wanted to continue his friendship with me and wanted to see me more often. But he was worried. He was worried that after that night, I wouldn’t want to see him again, and he also felt worried to leave me in a taxi with a man I hardly knew. He also felt very wrong not to send me home coz after all; he was the one who picked me up. I told him not to worry about me.

But inside, I was worried as hell. Alone inside a taxi with a complete stranger was not how I pictured the night would end. He didn’t want to let me go. He continued to hold my hands and kissed them. To him, this was it. Tonight would determine whether I was interested to see him again, and he was worried that I wouldn’t want to. I felt rather awkward. Finally he let go of my hands and kissed both my cheeks. He opened the taxi door for me and told the taxi driver to take me home safely.

I waved goodbye and prayed that I would get home safely. Lucky for me, the taxi driver turned out to be a friendly guy not to mention nice. He thought Henry was my boyfriend because he said he had never met anyone so protective of a girl before. He further thought that it was nice of Henry to worry for me. I told him that Henry was just a friend.

I got home safely and not long after that, Henry called me. He wanted to make sure that I was home safely. He also said that he would understand if I no longer wanted to see him after the incident. I told him not to be silly and that of course we would remain friends. But he was skeptical and said he would wait for my call. If I still want to continue the friendship, I would call him. If I didn’t, he would understand and he would not bug me anymore.

The minute we hung up, I called my dearest Bie and told him what happened. Bie didn’t flip. He just said not to contact Henry anymore. I told him that he shouldn’t worry and that I wouldn’t. I was actually a little afraid of Henry. It wasn’t so much of him ‘abandoning’ me on the taxi ride home, but it was more of his intention. Him holding my hands and kissing them. I don’t think I wanted to go along that route with him. So yes, I never did call him anymore. Henry too, just as he said, hadn’t called me anymore after that night.