Let it roll....

I have been told I can be rather emotional. Okay maybe sometimes overly emotional. Well, maybe I am…a little. Or maybe sometimes a little more than a little.

The point here is, when something do not go as I had planned - I need to gather my nerves and learn to keep my emotions in check.  Not an easy thing to do, particularly considering I turn another year older in a few days, on to a number that is rather daunting if you ask me.

I’m a mother to three boys you see, so between them and their father, I am the only creature in the family who tends to have her emotions running helter skelter at the slightest disruption of stability. That is perhaps my problem, by nature I am not one who loves adventure and spontaneity - I prefer stability. I don’t deal with abrupt changes very well. So the drill when something goes out of whack is, I usually I get a little upset, feel a little out of control, yak a lot while my sons and husband, bless them, just laugh (or get annoyed) and tell me - there she goes again. I do regain control of the situation and soon enough will have my brain in overdrive, salvaging plans or making new ones. But first I need to just let it out of my system.

It’s how I tick, period. Yea, so maybe it’s not exactly the smartest way to deal with a sudden change of plans. I do handle it – just after I let my emotions roll.

Like today. We are scheduled to leave for a weekend break in a couple days, a much anticpated one at that, due to several reasons. But, as it now turns out, there is a possibility it may not happen. Ok, so if it’s not in the cards, then it’s not in the cards. We will have another go at family time, God willing. But for that short span of time when it first hits that a plan carefully laid out is thrown askew, I breathe heavy and start yapping...persistently. Once I am in control again, I can see the bigger picture with much clarity. Heck, I can even get my all righteous self kick in and remind me - Man proposes, God disposes. See, I sound so calm and level headed like that.

Hmm, but first, I let it roll.

I miss you

I've missed you. Really, I have.

While laying around doing absolutely nothing, my dearest significant other said, "sayang, you should start a blog." Helloo...I do have one, I just don't remember my password!

So today, after much effort of tinkering about, I finally broke the code! And I'm back in here, writing a post. So who cares if I'm the only one who reads what I write. This is, after all, my cathartic avenue. The realm in which I rant and vent. Although I have every intention of forcing it down the throat of my dearest bffs -  to come in here and read my nonsensical writings. *evil laughter....*

Life has not changed much since I last wrote in here. Well, it has but at the same time it hasn't. Do I make sense? I am still happily married to my soul mate, still a contented mother of 3 and am just as grateful to Him for all the blessings in my life. Not just the ups, the downs as well. The downs have a way of lifting you up somehow you know..

This year God willing, my dearest and I will celebrate our 25th year of being married. Our eldest will turn 21 right about the same time. Our no 2 is growing into a confident and talented young man and our precious littlest who is not so little anymore will turn into a teenager. Oh God, that was unnecessary...makes me feel old.

Indeed, life is good. Tough as it may be some days. But good. For everyday that I am still able to breathe the air around me, and see the colors around me, the love and laughter, the tears and sorrow, life is still good. For that I thank you dear Allah...and I make a silent prayer inside, that I may be granted good health, the strength and will to go on, come what may. Becos as recent events have shown, you just never know...

i'm back

feels good. to be back here. and this time I intend to stay around a little longer. so aloha once again...

Cicak in the Box

It was just another it tapau lunch break. I found a new stall yesterday and had a good lunch. Next I planned to enjoy the quiet calmness of the empty office to finish my Picoult book. But before that I remembered I had brought a box of leftover biscuits from home so I began to replenish my biscuit container at the office. So there I was, merrily filling the container, taking out several pieces of the biscuits at a time and topping up my little plastic container.

Then something caught my eye…at first glance it was of the same color, light brown but it wasn’t round in shape as those biscuits were. And it had these little black dots, which looked like eyes?????? Oh Sh**……..it was a cicak!! This cicak must have made the biscuit box its home for the last few days – yea yea, I didn’t use one of those plastic ikea clippers on the foil – and it must have “traveled” with me from home to the office.

Eeeuuuuuuwwww…..

I ran and screamed my head off, but then I realized I was alone in the entire office. Dang, where is everyone?? Frantic I called my son, hubby out of town you see, no sense bothering the man when he was probably at a meeting so next default in line was my first born. My hands shaking I dialed his number, “Shafique…….i almost died of a heart attackkkkkkk. Whatt??? Ma, what’s wrong, is it abah? Nooooo, it’s meeeee….i saw a cicak, it was in the biscuit box I brought from home…At that point I could tell he thought his mother had gone quite mad, but hey I was not kidding – I was petrified…geli to the max okayyyyyyy..

Later, I finally got somebody to ensure me it was gone. She crawled under my desk, flashed her mobile phone light but the cicak was on the loose. Great…now what, I had a long skirt on yesterday. I made the poor girl who helped me locate the damn lizard look again, and again – Takde kak, dah takde daaaahhhh…

Oh man, I then gingerly stepped back to my seat, Picoult session entah ke mana. I spent the rest of my day looking at my feet, behind me, at my desk, basically I was quite paranoid. I hate them, I could scream if I see one in the toilet ceiling. And here we’re talking about one that landed on my desk, just inches away from my face….!!!!! Inches, can you even imagine how terrifying that was??

I prayed hard that I did not dream of cicak last nite. Thankfully, I didn’t. But now I can’t get the image of that cicak that got out of the box…I feel squeamish, and the episode still gives me goosebumps. And I will probably stay away from those biscuits for awhile. Mannn….i love those biscuits…damn you cicak..

OH NOOO....

Oh no…not again…!! Where is that darn file????? I was so sure I placed it on her desk…so I peeked under her stacks of papers, I went thru the various files on her desk, and on mine..heck, I pretty much covered half the office. Nothing, zilch..nada….I asked her again… “Rose, are you sure it isn’t here somewhere, I am so sure I placed it together with Lot 97…!!” “Noooo…you can ransack my desk 20 times, I assure you it ain’t here,” she said. I spent my entire morning looking, hunting, worrying, and feeling furious at myself for displaying mini episodes of short term memory loss.

Come on Lily..it’s 11am, somebody hollered, we have that meeting on Level 2. I let out a deep sigh. I have not managed to get anything done since morning. I’m dead, I thought. And there goes any notion I had of taking leave early next week. I had visions of coming into the office with my sons over the weekend and turn my problem into a treasure hunt of sorts..will that work..?

I sat at the meeting with flashes of worst case scenarios running through my head. There we were discussing a charity carnival and I was hardly there. “…..february 26th…ok, yea, booth…10’x 10'….knick knacks…..raffles draw…..waaat..so expensive….yea ok…not everyone is charitable…” and on and on and on……

Ok, it’s lunch time babes..I need to run or rather I need to locate this file or I will be as good as dead. She went on chattering…that woman…she who said my file can never be at her desk…Yea ok..whatever. I went straight to her desk. Again. And went thru the stacks all over again..and this time I flipped though all the levels of her trays…and voila whaddayaknow….there it was…on the bottom most level of her tray! I swear I could have strangled her there and then. All she managed to come up with was a meek “my apologies”. That’s it? I spent my entire morning worrying and all you could come up with was “my apologies”???

Aaah…..but in life there can sometimes be happy endings…as the case was here. Now you can no longer point your finger at me and accuse me of being "you are sooo forgetful Lily". Yea okaaay..she said. I smiled sweetly and walked away. Feeling a quiet sense of relief that I am not on the brink of old age after all.

Moment of Truth

It was a nerve wrecking morning. I had had another dream and that would have been my fourth, the third with the same outcome. By then I began to wonder if I am in any way related to Madam Zorra. Hmmm…..

Nabil’s news came in at about 11 and although I was extremely proud of my nephew, my heart was racing to know how Shaf had fared. Me and hubby only wanted him to be able to remain at the school, anything else would be a bonus. Of course he had set to shoot for the stars. And to add to the twist, the two boys had a deal with their gramps, you ace it all, you kids just tell me where you wanna go. Hmph, lucky kids…when I was 15, my gramps had small kids of his own, but that’s another story altogether…

That morning, as with most, if not all SBP’s, or a full residential school, they had their little speeches to mark the occasion. More so since his batch did very well. They ranked second in Wilayah’s SBP and placed top 3 in several other categories. Or something like that. The Pengetua spoke….and spoke but I found it increasingly hard to pay attention. He told us how several students are not permitted to continue at the school for various reasons; discipline problems and managing anything less than a C for Arabic. He displayed the immense pride of a pengetua who was seeing a whopping 67% of his exam students scoring 9 and 8 A’s. Out of this figure, 57 out of just over 140 candidates scored straight A’s. Another speech followed and then came the defining moment..they were going to announce the 57 names, class by class. I could have sworn the entire hall could hear my heart beating. Fast forward to several minutes later, I sighed, his name was not among the 57. It would have been wonderful to see him on stage with his peers but it was not meant to be. And that was ok with us.

We soon made our way to the counter where his class teacher sat, result slips awaiting their rightful owners. Parents and students of the said class were crowded around the desk. Heads bobbed about above the petite teacher, and she began to hand out slips. Each time she mentioned a student name, she punctuated her sentence with, tahniah, awak boleh sambung di SMAKL. Hubby stuck his neck out a little and asked “Shafique Danial ??” The teacher looked up momentarily, “Shafique Danial, Shafique Danial”, she repeated whilst flipping the slips laid out before her. “Ni ketua class saya ni…ha, ni dia, ok, Shafique, tahniah, awak boleh sambung di SMAKL”. Phew…I let out a sigh of relief and was eager to set my eyes on the slip of paper.

All of a sudden I saw the result slip being lifted mid-air in one single swoop by a hand that came out of nowhere. Both me and hubby looked up and saw Shafique staring at his exam results. We searched his face for a clue. All I saw was a look that said he was crushed. Blood drained from his face and one part of my brain thought dear God, it can’t be that bad..and one part of my brain was wondering maybe this was just another of my dreams. I went limp but tried to put on a brave front. We asked, “Shaf…..??” He gave us a weak smile and muttered
”seven”.

Aah..that look he gave earlier had me imagining the worst, but 7? Ok laa tuuu… We hugged and thanked God for his results. Finally we had a chance to look at that sacred slip of paper he held in his hands. Right then I felt a compelling sense of déjà vu and somewhere at the back of mind, I thought, wow, 3 out of my 4 dreams…Madam Zorra must be in the family tree after all….!

Shaf may have been a little disappointed, particularly during the early moments after he found out but we felt blessed enough. Looking back, he had had great difficulty adjusting to life in a SBP. He had always been a good student and coupled with the life he had at a private primary school, First Form at a Residential Sekolah Agama proved to be a huge challenge. Compounded by the fact that he had zilch exposure to the Arabic language, his first year there was quite simply, rather traumatic. Or was that me..?

Seriously though, it was no bed of roses for him that first year. He called me everyday pleading that we took him home. I spent hours on the phone persuading him to persevere. In all honesty, at the time I bore such animosity towards his father who was the one who insisted, this was what he wanted for his first born and I should just support him. God..those were difficult days…It took a toll on me and often left me in tears. My days felt empty without him at home and knowing how badly he was coping made my heart scream. I could only turn to HIM to seek guidance and my closest girlfriends for comfort and support.

He was miserable and there was also reason to believe that he was being bullied by several seniors. To make things worse, for the first time ever, he was failing in some of his classes with Arabic being his worst subject. But slowly he began to pick up the pieces. Probably through sheer grit and a whole lot of doa, he began to make friends and by the middle of last year his academic potential reappeared. Finally his third year came and somewhere along the way, he must have woken up. By the time his trials came along, he had had a new resolve.

We have his teachers to thank, several more than others. Those early days when we were all ready to throw in the towel, they supported him and gave him (and us) the strength we needed to prod on. Others gave him extra coaching (yes, he got a B for his Arabic..!) and the will to aim for the best. The new pengetua, who came in several months before the exams also made a huge impact. And of course, my dearest husband, whose dogged determination led our first born there in the first place.

So our son did not ace all 9..but everything happens for a reason and I am certain He knows what is best. The journey has only just gotten started. In two years none of this would matter much because that would be when it truly begins. As for the trip with the gramps..? Oh, that will most likely still take place and yes, you betcha - I think he deserves it.

Just reminiscing...

How I’ve missed writing in here..there is no excuse for not getting into my blog and writing. Fact is, I never seem to have enough hours in a day. And truthfully, when FB began to catch my attention, the little extra time I had went into re-establishing old friendships.

It’s almost the end of yet another year and what a year it’s been. Let’s not even go anywhere near what the country went through in early 2008…! On the home front some changes took place too, including one which I did write about, the runaway maid. For those who may not know, we are still maidless and life is still bliss…alhamdulillah. Hubby and I now enjoy some quality alone time whenever the kids stay at their gramps and although the house is not spick and span 24/7, it’s fine. We’ve racked up laundry bills but hey it’s a trade off from the savings of the water and electricity bill at home I suppose.

On the 14th of this month, hubby and me celebrated the day we first met, some 23 years ago. He surprised me with a pretty bouquet of 3 red roses that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere on the car seat… I gave out a whoop of delight when I opened the car door..hmm, yea, 1985 was ages ago…and with the passing of time, fine lines have appeared here and there..complimented by expanding hips and waistline, but our love for one another has grown over the years and the spark is still real - passionate and sweet. Frankly I would put it differently but seeing that I should maintain a certain level of decency here, passionate and sweet will have to do….!

The kids, they’re my pride and joy. My first born….he’s all grown up…and is awaiting his PMR results right now. Honestly, he appears to be brimming with confidence..I just hope he won’t be disappointed. The mom is more a nervous wreck than he is! I had dreams of going to his school and getting his exam results, once I even woke up in the middle of the night and looked around only to realize it was all a dream..a bad one at that.

My no 2 – aaah…the one who provides me with a good measure of parenting challenge. Admittedly, he tests my patience regularly but he’s a good kid and most will be quick to agree that he can win a popularity contest hands down.

My precious will turn 8 next year and although some say we pamper him, he never takes advantage. On the contrary, showering him with tremendous love and affection has boosted his self confidence. He always knows what he wants and rarely hesitates to speak his mind.

All in all, it has been a good year. I continue to feel blessed and am thankful that I have a roof over my head, a job that helps to pay the bills, best friends who provide me stress therapy whenever I need it and most importantly a family that loves me. So we now move into yet another new year. I trust most of us share common hopes and wishes for the year ahead..good health, a better economy and a life filled with much love.

With that in mind, let us all pray for a blessed and fulfilling 2009.

A Mother's Tears

Somebody rather dear to me lost her baby last week. She was 3 weeks away from her due date when the baby stopped moving. Imagine the devastation, imagine the trauma. Hubby and me went to see them the nite we found out. I don’t know about the next person but personally, no amount of rational thinking can possibly prepare a mother to brave such a tragedy.

I cried for the baby, for the parents. And to quote her, she would never ever wish this on even her worst enemy. That emptiness, that after delivery pain and looking around for a baby who is not there. Who knows why it happened. A cruel blow, that’s what it was. Yes, theoretically the baby died because the cord got twisted in such a way that it cut off his food and oxygen supply. But who’s to say how it went wrong so suddenly and all the what ifs in the world aint gonna bring him back to life anyway.

Yes this was not to be their first child, merely their first boy. But with age catching up, the news of the baby was something that all of us were thrilled with. And now he’s gone. Just a fleeting precious moment.

During the surgery, she asked should they proceed with putting a halt to her child bearing days as they had initially planned during the C-section. Yes, he said. But don’t you want to try again, don’t you want a boy..? You already gave me a boy..I just don’t want to see you go through this ever again, he replied.

Why did you not take a picture of him, she asked later. I don’t remember his face..Because I do not want you to go through more pain, he answered.

I felt for them..I cried and the thought of it all can still make me cry.

How do you survive such a tragedy? How do you go on after such pain..? You just do, I guess. You tell yourself he’s in a better place. You convince yourself God knows better. Then you cry yourself to sleep.

Sweet dreams little baby..they say you will wait for your mommy…I pray to God she will get to see you one day..

The Ka-Ching kinda lurve...

That was the topic Pietro and Serena C discussed this morning. Me and hubby talked about it on the way to work and we concurred.

Indeed, money can buy you love..just a different kind of love, we both agreed. The kind that is not deep, the kind that may be fleeting, the kind that does not stay in sickness and in health, certainly not for richer or for poorer.

Money can buy you happiness though, to an extent. In fact, perhaps it can buy you love to a large extent. Who wouldn’t want to be pampered with nice clothes, facials, jewelry and handbags and shoes that matches what the Marcos lady once had..And who wouldn’t want the other perks, like being able to go almost anywhere without worrying you’re stretching the budget..any needs of the kids can be taken care of, any ailment can be treated at any private hospitals, any financial emergencies can be handled.

But is all that going to be enough in the long run..? Maybe..maybe not. I would like to think I am a romantic who believes in a happy ending, no matter the bank account. But then again, money does help. People have been known to leave their partners when another comes along offering what appears to be “financial stability”..and will they be happy..? I don’t know..they can learn to be happy I guess.

Personally, a beautiful big home, with shiny luxury cars and all the handbags and shoes money can buy will never come close to having a loving and honest husband, a doting dad to the kids, the laughter and private jokes that a couple shares, even the simple movie and popcorn nite at home.

Truth is, I had the luxury of having a nice bank account once..so was I happier then..? On the face of it, maybe. I would never forget the holidays abroad, the spa treatments, the “not having to think too much while shopping” thing, you know what I mean…?

But in all honesty, when you lose that nice back account..you bounce back. You learn to live again, within your means this time and you learn that quality time takes on a whole new dimension. I found a new definition of happiness. My little precious may not have had the Disney holidays or numeorus others his brothers enjoyed but I will be the first to vouch that he gets sooo much more from us than any of his brothers ever did. It’s just that what he gets can never be quantified.

So, back to the question of the day – can money buy you love..sure it can. Just the ka-ching kind of lurve…

Being Maid-less

It has been nearly 3 weeks since my maid upped and left. And how have I been you ask..? Just fine…thank you.

Let me give you a brief once over. I have been doing laundry at least once a day. I have learnt to prepare pre-cooked meals, I began to get to know the ironing board once again, I get the boys to help fold the clothes.

I plan my days now. And I plan them as well as I possibly can. I go to the extent of laying the breakfast bowl, cereal box and vitamin bottles on the table before I go to bed, I lay Haqim’s school shoes and bag by the front door. I have everyone’s clothes laid out the night before too and prepare Haqim’s lunch box and Arief’s meal for the next day.

But if there is one thing I miss, it’s cooking. I enjoy cooking as a form of de-stressing myself. To me baking and trying out new recipes is extremely therapeutic. But I cooked, she cleaned. So now, with VERY limited time on my hands, I can’t seem to manage anything fancier than nasi goreng. I miss making all kinds of meals and snacks. And I miss my own carrot cake. Hubby brushes it off, saying it’s not important…hmmph…what does he know.

Basically, I still cook, though not as much as I would like, I clean, though I have cheats there (mom’s or mil’s maid comes in at least once a week..hey, I have to be smart about it ok), I make sure my 13yo does his share of the chores, hubby washes the car and takes out the trash and life has never been this bliss at home..!

Am I superwoman..? Most certainly not..! Am I tired..? Oh yes I am..But the house is clean and my days are no longer punctuated with “Aaniii….kamu ni…”

But come Ramadhan…hmmm….this year my precious is already in Tahun 1 which means we leave the house early and he has began to fast since last year. So for the moment, I am rather uncertain how I will manage my days; in between all the regular activities - the berbuka, the tarawikh, the sahur.

Hmmm…a daunting thought but hey, the tough should just get going huh…yea rite…

The Runaway Maid

Wow…it’s been soo long since I last came in here..and so much to write about. But the sensational piece has got to be the story about the maid who upped and left last week. Of course to make the runaway story more dramatic, she left my precious 7yo all alone at home.

We’ve been having trouble with her for several months now and my many issues with her culminated with the discovery of a handphone amongst her things and a bag all packed and ready to go last Sunday. When confronted she denied her intention to run away but because she could not make the handphone go poof! she admitted to owning it, but not before creating some story involving the maid 2 doors from us. “Kawan Ani tuuk, dia pinjam uwang Ani, terus bila dia tak boleh bayar dia beri aja handphone sama Ani. Dia punya banyak handphone”

So after the handphone and packed bag on Sunday, silly me was supposed to take her passport to keep at the office..I checked that it was still where it should be but I forgot to put it away. The next few days she was rather bold and that fueled my anger further. I made no bones about my discontent. She was clearly displaying her attitude bordering on being rude to me and I tolerated none of it.

Then came Thursday. I spoke to her over the phone mid morning and once again she was rather curt which made me quite mad. Around 2 in the afternoon, hubby dropped by the house to pick something up, she was ‘alive and well” and came to the front gate to hand it to him. Then just before 3.30 Haqim called, absolutely frantic and sobbing “Mom, I can’t find kakak..mom, I can’t find kakak..I’m all alone Mom…and the front gate is not closed” I don’t think I can forget the fear I heard in his voice..Needless to say, Mom was literally shaking..and boiling mad..

Later that day I realized she had left us a note on the fridge..apologizing profusely. For running away and for stealing her passport. The next day I had help in cleaning the house, the dry area at the back was particularly filthy and yes, I found her passport along with other documents she had taken from the file stashed in a plastic bag near the washing machine…..aaah…the sigh of satisfaction never felt so good.

Yea, yea, it could have been worse. Those who run away with their employer’s kids, or stealing money and others, mine left the house intact. She even did all the dishes.

So our life without a maid has begun. And in all honesty, it is quite bearable. The boys chip in and have their own chores. Haqim insisted he doesn’t want to be “just a helper, I want a job Mom, I’m part of this family too”. Arief has been the true Arief with that entrepreneurial spirit, “so that 5 ringgit for washing Haqim’s school shoes, is that for sebelah or what ma..?”

For the moment I am enjoying the stress free life without that constant headache only a maid can give you. For how long, don’t ask. My bones are tired but the house is still standing, the kids are still alive and kicking and I must tell you..during part of the weekends – the idea of having the whole house to yourself, I mean just me and hubby…hmm....hahaha…

And so, despite the runaway maid, there is still hope and life after all…

So What....?

I will turn a year older this Sunday. And how does that make me feel? Not wonderful is putting it mildly. And between you and me, (yes, you, the one or two creatures on earth who actually read my entries…) I have been kinda edgy at the mere thought of it Honestly, it’s been bugging me quite a fair bit, and for some reason I have been feeling rather insecure, about so many things in my life. My finances, my parenting skills, my looks, my hair, my weight of course.. And then on Sunday, I had a fall. Not a nasty one but enough to leave me limping for several days. Noo, I did not sprain an ankle, just pulled a muscle but hey, it hurt ok, and it was not cool to come to work in slippers..so I have not exactly been feeling on top of the world..(and that twit of a colleague who when seeing me limp into the office on Monday morning chirpily said, ayooo lily, you’re not young anymore you know..must be careful ooo…) And just like that my wonderful week began.

Yes, me, who tells that one should count one’s blessings in life..I really should take a HUGE spoonful of my own medicine huh..

I don’t know, perhaps it’s all because I thought I would have achieved a certain number of things in my life by now. Ah, my husband points out, therein lies the crux of my problem, life is about a lot more than ‘things’..he stresses. I have my health, a stable job, a place to stay, my family which includes a husband and kids whom I love very much, and hopefully love me right back. I have a set of beautiful people I call my closest best friends whom I’ve known for close to 30 years and many other girl friends and sisters all of whom are in very special places in my heart.

With my husband of almost 20 years I have a wonderful relationship. Naturally there are days when life as a couple is less than perfect but I would like to think that despite it all, things are still good between us and married life is still sweet.

Then there are my kids…my pride and joy. My raison d’etre in this world. Ironically, issues with one was what triggered my emotions this morning. I ask you, when you’ve been a parent for close to 15 years as I have, you would think that you’re at least a decent enough parent, right? Think again…

“You’re too hard on yourself..” my husband tells me. I can’t help it. I have this voice that tells me even I have not achieved much in almost 40 years of my life (there, I’ve said it…!!what a HUGE number…oh GOD..!), I should at least have sufficient parenting skills to handle any given situation right..as I said, think again. Yes, it’s really not that big a deal, more of the usual discipline issues, but hey, they irk me. And with all that emotion running high lately with the aging thing, well, the timing sucks.

But my better half was sweet enough to be patient and reminded me that I have a lot to be thankful for. That life would not mean a thing even if I have loads of moolah in my bank account but a terrible relationship with my spouse and kids..and nobody else to turn to, for instance. And that kids are to be disciplined with love..yes, yes, when he’s calm he’s a much better parent than I am… Ok, I’m being cynical, I really shouldn’t.

Aaaahhh..ok, that’s me taking a deep breath. He’s right, I’m being too hard on myself. So no more ranting about, no more teeth clenching till I burst. So what if my son sleeps like a log, he’ll just miss football practice. So what if I my hair is thinning, I still have no ubans, so what if I don’t drive a fancy car and can’t afford jewelry, (I can still dream, can’t I..) and so what if I’m not young and slim anymore…(ok, with this one, I am not so convinced yet lah..I think I need to spend some money at a slimming centre lah ….)

Hubby tells me he loves me more than ever before, - God bless the man..despite the thinning hair, the wide hips and all my other imperfections..(eh, do you think he said that to avoid his wife from having a nervous breakdown maybe..??)

I turn a year older...I think I need to get a pick-me-upper and face this head on. In the meantime, errr, do you know of a good hair product, that won’t cost me an arm and a leg, and then some..?

Just a lil bit too much

I admit. I wanted to get my point across. The whole scenario was getting tiresome and frankly those ads were getting on my nerves. "You shouldn't see things that way you know,"someone told me."..what if everyone does exactly what you do.." "I'll take my chances," I said, having made up my mind.

And as it turned out, millions out there had the exact intention. It was meant to be an act that would give a good jerk, an eye opener, a wake up call. And what a wake up call it was..For those who were affected, I reckon it must have been more like being woken from a deep slumber by very powerful ammunitions! The only difference here is, you did not perish in the explosion but are left rubbing your eyes and asking how the heck did that happen..

For me, initially it was rather appealing, and certainly unbelievable. Then as the reality of things sank in..I began to ponder. And I have no doubt that there may be quite a number like me out there, who may now be pondering if it was just a little bit too much.

I am not entirely apprehensive but I can't say I'm not the least bit worried though. It's new and exciting yet it's not unlike venturing into uncharted waters. I am thrilled yet I find the days ahead daunting.

What happens next is anybody's guess. But I must say I am rather miffed that certain individuals have not been as gracious as one particular gentleman. Concede and move on already...

In the meantime, my own mixed feelings are still very much there.

Love is...

Try asking a few people what love means and you are likely to get various takes on the word and what it means to each individual. This would be the umpteenth time I am celebrating Valentines with the love of my life..let me see…just over 2 decades to be exact..Long time huh…? Sure we had a brief ‘hiatus” – but it was like 22 years ago when we first spent Valentine’s Day together..I can even go into details, but I’d rather not lah…no la, nothing too xx pun…just no need to share lah..

So, what is love.? To me, it is about being able to see past your partner’s shortfalls and the mutual respect and affection which you feel towards each other. Real love goes beyond valentine’s day wishes and romantic dinners. It means being able to count on one another in times of need, be it a bad day at work, problems with the family or regular issues with the kids, home and finances.

I should stress that the notion of being wined and dined is not completely unnecessary..! I love flowers but they are not essential (and these days they cost a bomb during Valentine week so forget it..!) so a nice card and quiet alone time will do. As I grew older, Valentine’s Day has lost some of its spark and for me and hubby a few other days are more meaningful to be celebrated. Nonetheless, it is still a nice day to wish one another and use it as an excuse to make the effort to spend time as a couple. With everything that goes on in our lives it can be quite a challenge to find the time to go out alone, without the kids. A weekend away is almost out of the question. Yea, yea..couples should not let kids get in the way..maybe later laa..don’t most couples say that?

As we go about doing whatever it is that we do today my thoughts are with several people around me who happen to be facing some relationship issues. Problems that revolve around anything from finances, to children, to bedroom issues. And I must say some of those issues are really not alien to me in our marriage but alhamdulillah we somehow made it through the rain. And although there can still be stormy weather on some days, I suppose that is just part of the whole deal lah. You pick your battles, you accept that neither you nor your partner will ever be perfect and you laugh with each other - a lot.

At the end of the day, there is no denying that marriage is a lot of work; relationships are never easy and as someone close to me said, love must always, always be nurtured, lest you may just find yourselves drifting away in no time. And chances are there will be occasions where your love and marriage will be tested and my oh my, how emotionally exhausting that can be..

But with each Valentine’s Day I am reminded that love means more than flowers and romantic dinners. It is a time to reflect how one has matured in a relationship, it celebrates the struggles of bad patches along the way and it is a day to treasure the love you still feel and the bond that has grown over the years.

So what will I be doing tomorrow? Hmm…I hope I will be enjoying a nice dinner at a cosy table at a quite but not necessarily fancy restaurant…followed by a feel good movie at home perhaps.. and who knows what else…And yes, it will be tomorrow because going out on a week night is just not so appealing you know..Besides since tomorrow is Friday, the kids can be packed off to mom’s house..hehe…

On that note..happy valentine’s day..!

oh oh oh Sheila.....!!

I still remember the first time I heard somebody by the name of sheila majid sing on the radio. Frankly at the time I thought she sounded rather nasal and was not immediately taken by her voice. But her song was catchy and before long I had bought a copy of Pengemis Muda. There was a school show soon after and my pet sis sang the song since it was THE song at the time.

I saw Sheila sing live only once, with whom I went and where exactly it was I somehow cant quite remember. Later, I was studying abroad when the infamous Ikhlas concert took place and
I heard how good it was from people I know. And then some weeks back I read she was having a 2 day charity concert and I wanted so much to be able to go but the tickets were way too expensive. So there goes another chance at seeing Sheila in action.

But as luck would have it, late Thursday evening I managed to get a couple of complimentary tickets from work – the occasional perk I enjoy when the company gets involved in certain charity drives and sponsor big dos like this la..and to top it off, I got fantastic seats…!!!

Anyway, I was ecstatic that I was going the next evening. It was a really really great show, and I cannot find the words to describe the fun we had….!! It started with me shedding a few tears though because the show was after all in aid of the IJN Foundation and there was a brief presentation on the patients at IJN which included adorable babies and little children and those pictures made me cry.

But once the she got going, it was awesome..all the way. Sheila has not lost her touch one bit! She was smooth and classy, very professional and knew exactly how to get through to her audience. In fact soon most of us were on our feet dancing away..and I think I spent almost the whole second set on my feet..swaying and grooving…it was just wonderful singing along to all the songs I grew up with. In fact earlier Sheila had asked the crowd, “how many of you grew up with my music…??” And there was a resounding “meeee……..” from sooo many of us to which Sheila joked, “So you all must be at least 35 and above right…”ha ha haa…

Even her intermission was exciting. While Sheila disappeared for a wardrobe change, her entourage of musicians took turns at entertaining the crowd and because it was so interesting, not many of us took the time to go for the usual intermission shi shi break. Halfway through the second set hubby said he could hold it in for much longer so he got up and began to make his way to the end of the aisle. Suddenly Sheila started “kata demi kata..jalin dengan indah..” and hubby threw me a look that said, “err, I don’t think I need to go anymore” and so he walked back to me, much to the amusement of those around us!

Basically, I fell in love with Sheila's music all over again that nite..from the upbeat Pengemis Muda when it all began, the infectious Warna, to the classic Anyir dan Jakarta and Emosi, she sang them all.....aaaahhh....

All in all, it was great fun and although the VVIP that particular nite, Tun M did not get up and boogie, but from what I understand, the following nite, our Pak Lah did..!

I went home, tired feet and giddy with excitement but thrilled and thoroughly contented…

Oh, and of course my dearest hubby was also giddy due to something else, we met and talked to Dayang, his ultimate favourite singer..so amusing to see him looking quite love struck! hahaha

The Inspector...

Ok, I admit, I went thru her things..Who? My maid, lah, who else..Ok, and it was Raya Haji day..eh, but I had no choice ok...

Anyway, we all went to my mom's - it being raya morning and all and we happened to leave her there since we had places I needed to go to. So later in the day it just became convenient to go thru her things. And what did I find? Actually, not very much. I found the book that mentioned she bought a handphone tapi majikan tak tahu, and other stuff but nothing fatal lah. My final analysis, she was the jilted lover...I found many sappy love notes and heartbreaking longings....yada yada yada...

..and it is obvious she prefers the house to be all quiet I guess becos right after raya haji my two older boys were away for several days and my maid was 'good'. No sign of not wanting to work at all..!

So, now what? From what I understand she had told my mom's maid that she wants to go back, but to us she has not said a thing since our chat the other nite. So I will broach the topic again soon. Will blog some more when that happens. Meanwhile I am still wondering, where does she keep that handphone...............

Maid to Last ......NOT

Those who know me will know that I have not had very many domestic maids. Reason being I had one who was with us for a long time. Nikka was with us for more than 8 years so I only had one, another Filipino for 2 years before her and maybe another one or two temporary ones in between and along the way.

I did not have many problems with one maid who left last year..my first real Indonesian helper. She was slow in the beginning but she picked things up very fast. With the exception of her very very deep voice, I found her to be totally acceptable and was sorry to see her leave after her 2 yr contract ended.

Then came my latest…good lord, as I write this I suddenly had a thought – am I actually writing an entry that revolves around her…???! Well, yes, looks like that’s exactly what I’m about to do. Hey, isn’t a blog supposed to be cathartic…

She is slow…let me tell you she has been slow ever since she arrived 9 months ago. The odd (or rather infuriating) thing is this – I noticed that she can be quite efficient, yes, you got it – only when she chooses to be so. She hardly has any initiative but never mind all that. She is quite a bit of a Ms Defensive – “taaak, ibu tak beli cheese. Iya, Ani udah check la..” And voila, the cheese is there in the fridge but hey, she will still defend herself.

This week though she has been really - really testing my patience. In the last week –

i. she insisted her bibik wants to come to our house to snap a picture of her – to send back to Indon
ii. my son found a book where she wrote she bought a handphone tapi majikan tak tau
iii. she told my sister’s maid that her boyfriend back home is pressuring her to return to Indonesia
iv. she also told the other maid that she cant stand my two older sons so she wants to leave

So last nite we confronted her.

i. She literally begged that we allow this bibik to come and we said NO.
ii. She told on the boys (weekdays are meant to be PS free) but the boys main ps tadiii
ii. She said her father never really agreed to allow her to come here to work in the first place – DUH…

No mention of boyfriend, no admission of owning a handphone but she did say she has a phone card and borrows the handphone of our neighbor’s maid, which she had told me some time ago.

I have had enough so we said please decide if you want to work - otherwise, feel free to leave. But since she will be in breach of her contract should she decide to leave, she will leave empty handed. She did not seem to mind. My dad’s theory - the bibik may be somebody who’s got some contact that can offer her a new job – thus the need for the picture.

She said she would inform us of her decision this morning but she did not. Hubby said, what if she changes her mind, maybe she wants to stay…Oh please, I would rather have her leave….

Slowly slow

Recently I found this wonderful CD titled Allah Knows. Ever since Haqim was hooked on I Look, I See, I had always tried to find something similar to Yusuf Islam's CD. Which basically means an Islamic English musical CD that would appeal to children.

And I found it - in Allah Knows. Zain Bhika is just brilliant and his songs are simply awesome! They tackle issues more complex than those in I Look, I See and appeals to youths as well. It's a shame not many people know of him and his songs. His songs deal with greed, drugs, being a Muslim today and many others.

Try google the man, he is a South African who really does make beautiful music. And the vocals are also fantastic!

Everyone has his own favorites now but one that has a special place in my heart is Slowly Slow.

You see, I have a rather complicated realtionship with my first born. I love him no doubt, but perhaps the fact that he is at that 'difficult' age makes things somewhat sticky between him and us sometimes. He gets his foot in his mouth a lot, and he hardly stops to think of the consequence of the things he says and does - May well be what a 14 year old kid does by nature...But I do worry about him so. I worry that he may make rash decisions in life and I worry that he doesn't know that I love him.

Anyhow, I found this song to be perfect. I made him listen to it, with the beautiful lyrics in his hand.

To Shaf, you'll always be the coolness in my eyes...and I love you, more than you'll ever know....

Slowly Slow

Slowly slow my child
The world waits for you
And your window of time
Will come shining through
Slowly slow, don’t rush you know
It’ll all come easy

There’s some things you can’t take back
No regrets for what you wanna get
Needs some thinking down the line
Slowly slow my darling I’m here for you
And every stumble, every fall
Breaks my heart in two
I only want the best for you
And every step makes up the mile
Even though it takes a while
And God will always smile on you my child

Chorus:
So have faith, have faith
Just like the bird who feels the sun
And sings before the dawn has come
Have faith, have faith

Slowly slow my boy
I see you’re strong
And everybody wants to find
A place where they belong
But don’t you find yourself someday
In a cold and dark and lonely place
And you wonder how you got there
I know it gets clouded in your mind
And you wanna move faster
It seems that you’re running out of time
But I love you
Together we’ll get through
Don’t you know

Slowly slow Slowly slow my son
You wanna be a man
And I guess those days are gone
When I used hold your hand
Cause this is the age of winks and smiles
And butterflies deep inside
But you’ll always be the coolness of my eyes

Chorus
Slowly slow my child
The world waits for you
And your window of time
Will come shining through
Slowly slow, don’t rush you know
It’ll all come easy

BM, English, BM, English

I would like to comment on the current issue brought up by the good Senator with regards to switching back to Bahasa Malaysia for the subjects of Math and Science in schools.

I disagree that we switch back to Bahasa. As a parent I feel our children are constantly at the losing end. In the long run they do not benefit if we keep changing policies at the whim and fancy of some politician.

Some say we should agree with the Senator’s suggestion quoting that the Japanese and Korean “masih boleh hebat di kacamata dunia walaupun kekal dengan bahasa ibunda masing masing”. All I can say is this - masaalah nya bangsa malaysia tak sama dengan Bangsa Jepun.

The sad fact is the Malaysian mentality – more specifically the Malay mentality is nothing like the Japanese or the Koreans. In general we lack that drive to succeed and that burning passion to reach for the stars. The sooner we are able to admit to that, the quicker we can all truly move forward.

The generation of my parents all studied in English, at a time when they had no tv, much less Astro. They had little access to English books without any large bookstores around other than what they had at the school libraries. Their means of speaking English were generally confined to within school hours where they interacted with their teachers. Now, have they all turned out forgetting how to speak Bahasa Malaysia or God forbid become totally westernized and forgotten their roots? I don’t think so.

If anything, when our children enter universities, local or abroad, they will not be intimated when they suddenly find themselves with learning materials that will be in the English language,. The fact is they will be able to communicate with ease when they join the workforce because when you begin life as a working adult English is widely spoken, whether we like it or not.

One does not abandon one’s culture that easily. We are all proud to be Malaysians – studying Math and Science in English is not going to make these kids any less Malaysians…dear Dato’. We have much bigger issues to fret over, let’s put that energy to better use. Finding capable teachers would be a good start.

A rose by any other name....

With barely 2 days to go before Aidilfitri, there is plenty of reason to explain the festive mood in the air. At the same time, the entire nation was also consumed with the excitement of the first Malaysian in space. And call him whatever you wish, astronaut, research cosmonaut, space flight participant, Dr Sheikh is still every bit a national hero by now. Young girls, and not so young ones like me have swooned over him for so many months now and when the official announcement was made it was no longer a surprise. After all, most people understood the deal from the beginning, that he was the primary candidate.

Having said that, from the documentaries aired on Ch 588 that featured both of them, I feel Capt Faiz is just as ready and exuded just as much confidence.

Last nite, like hundreds and thousands of Malaysians from all over, we watched the lift-off with much anticipation. I cannot even begin to imagine the thoughts that were running through his parents’ mind at the exact same moment. I am just one out of a million watching and It was nerve wrecking, to say the least. The Challenger disaster occurred when I was in my late teens and although I was not in front of the tv to watch it happen, like many others I remember it well. And as I watched the Soyuz last nite I could not help but feel anxious. Thankfully the space shuttle lifted off into orbit without a glitch as we all witnessed a great moment in history….and made me very proud to be Malaysian.

Our 6 yo was the one who was the most excited. He had been bringing newspaper clippings of the launch to school and was thoroughly excited when watching the space launch last nite. He was glued to the tv from the beginning of the KLCC event and stood up at the star for Negaraku (but of course…) and held his hands up during the doa. He pestered his dad to also perform the solat hajat and was very serious when he said his prayers, “Ya Allah, pls make sure Dr Sheikh Muzaphar is safe..” I could hardly believe my ears, my precious was so into it..! At countdown to liftoff he was really really excited!

We were not entirely surprised by his enthusiasm because after all he had always been fascinated with space and planets. Even a couple years ago, as a 4 plus year old he was able to name all 9 planets and could tell you which planet is the biggest, smallest, with rocks etc. Even I still can’t remember! You think I may have a budding astronaut? God knows. Frankly I would rather he have both feet firmly on the ground – literally..!

In the meantime, my hopes and wishes right now are for a safe mission for our good doctor. Deep inside I wonder what things will be like when my son looks back at this historic day decades from now. Maybe then NASA will no longer have any qualms on the term to be used for our Malaysian rep on space missions.