Tuesday, November 14, 2017

Photographs and memories.

There are some things in life that are able to evoke all sort of melancholic in me; like a favourite song from the past, the smell of my mother’s cooking, Michael Jackson’s One Day in Your Life, the sound of rain, and strangely, watching my kids play at the park.


We have this Friday morning routine of strolling around the neighborhood and stopping by the nearest playground for a quick morning play. And every single time I sit on the bench with Noah beside me, watching Hadi and Saif messing around playing together, my heart will make a little leap. Every single time. I will be reminded that one day, all that will be left for me are the memories of these days. It may not mean much to them, Saif may not even remember this routine of ours, but I will. One day when the nest is empty and I pass by the playground, I will surely long for all the childish fun and laughter we once had together.

“The days are long but the years are short” perfectly sums up our life as a mommy. It is tiring, being a parent. You constantly have to remind yourself that time is precious, that they will not stay this small forever, but it’s hard to do that sometimes after countless interrupted sleeps and long day of tending to their every needs. But these years of raising little children fly by so quickly. One minute Hadi was this cheeky bubbly toddler and suddenly he is turning 8 just next year. Before I know it, these boys will not need my daily hugs, me helping with homework, cooking them breakfast, fixing their hair, lying down with them until they fell asleep. One day, I will surely miss their sweet innocence and clinginess.

But as at now, they’re stuck with me for at least another 10 to 20 years. Let’s just enjoy the ride while it lasts.

Wednesday, November 8, 2017

Crappy mommy.

We all have days when we feel really crappy as a mommy. Maybe Marion and Dr. Jezemine Lim don’t, because they’re perfect. But yeah, I am talking about us normal, sometimes-awesome-but-sometimes-crappy mommies. 

My firstborn can’t seem to get straight As, the other isn’t improving too much in his mobility even after years of therapies and the other doesn’t seem to be able to talk as many words as a 2 year old should. It makes me think that I did not spend enough time to help the first one with his studies, that I haven’t done enough for the second one’s improvement, that it’s my fault that the third one has yet to construct a sentence. And that maybe I didn’t make enough doa. That maybe I sin a lot that my doa is not makbul. That maybe, I am just a lousy mommy, as simple as that. But believe me I tried. Oh God, I HAVE TRIED. I hope my kids know I have tried and gave all my best on most days. I hope God knows. 

And entering the second trimester of this pregnancy at this much older age has made me really exhausted sometimes and most days at the end of the day I just want to put everyone to sleep so that I may be able to rest a bit, only to be waken up at random hours at night to kids having nightmares, coughing streaks, mosquitoes festivals and baby #4 squishing my bladder. 

There are good days, when I feel energized, when I’m positive about raising my children, when I start the day all chirpy and cook good stuff, spent the whole day not being grumpy at all, basking in the moment, listening and engaging well with my kids, days when I enjoy every speck of motherhood, the whole nine yard. 

But there are days like today, when I feel sick and crappy and like I am going to split into two, even after a cone of chocolate sundae. Perhaps this is my bad right knee talking, I don’t know, maybe I just need a good hug and a new pretty purse. Crappy washed out purse makes you feel crappy.

Oh and send me the Joy Blend pronto, Ayin. Let’s see if it will do wonders.


Thursday, November 2, 2017

Rose coloured glasses.

Today I was reminded by my Kindred Spirit, one of very few people who knows me best, to stop comparing our lives to others. Everything may seem perfect on social medias, but everyone has their own battle and struggles. “Never compare, recipe for sadness” was her exact words. Ain’t that the truth? 

When I was a little girl growing up, my mother, with purely good intention I believe, always compared me -- my behaviours and achievements -- to my favourite older cousin, who is now a doctor (she’s awesome, by the way, I totally got why my mother wants me to aspire to her). But I remember it making me sad and rebellious even. Comparison is truly, as Mark Twain put it, the death of joy.

Aida Azlin, in one of her many inspiring videos, shared that when she feels jealous of another sister, she will make doa for her and later find a way to collaborate with her on a project. She channels her jealousy positively by deviating the initial negative feeling she had to the most positive act; making doa for others. I tried it this morning and it worked like a charm, trust me. 

And if people’s so-called perfect life on social medias seem to bother us too much, maybe we should take a break from all these distractions and focus on what really make us happy. We are not here to compete with each other anyway; I hope we will all make it, here in dunia and later in akhirat. Hugs!


Monday, October 16, 2017

Mom of three; what's one more?


As I have joyfully shared on my Instagram, I have been putting on a few kilos, adding some cheeks and nasty pimples to my face, and spotting a baby bump these days. I am overjoyed alhamdulillah. Oh hello Baby #4, insyaAllah.

If you were followers of my previous blog (yes the three of you), you'd know that I struggled with fertility in our early years of marriage. I suffered miscarriage twice and I have always vouched to how it was a very heartbreaking and lonely experience. My pregnancy with my firstborn felt like a miracle and was tended with a lot of care and caution. It helped that I got to sleep as much as my body desired, watched as much TV as I wanted that is not cartoon and not having any little human to worry about. I also ate a lot and transformed into a whale.

It is not the same with every pregnancies. This time around, I crave less sweets which is good for my weight but suffers breakouts and skin issues. And with three handful small boys***, it goes without saying how tired a mommy can be. I don't even know exhaustion anymore. I just go with the flow, take whatever sleep I can get, and drink coffee. Yes I still take my caffeine, please don't judge me.


This was taken yesterday. My eye bags are testament to my lack of beauty sleep.

*** Yes three handful small boys. The eldest and the youngest are a couple of loud Tom & Jerry, eat a lot, most of the time sticky and any long sticks found can be used as weapon against each other. And in between all that, there's homework and revisions for the eldest which always end up with me almost getting a heart attack, there's Noah's therapies, and my obsessive need to cook for the kids every single day. I could have asked the maid, but no, I am crazy. 

But yeah, what's one more, alang-alang dah gila dan letih gila. LOL.



Sunday, October 1, 2017

Small things in a great way.


Yesterday was my youngest boy’s birthday and I was missing my MIL. A lot. Because she has always been there for all my kids’ birthdays, always a good sport. I don’t know many people who have the kind of relationship I had with my MIL. She’s always referring me to people as her daughter instead of daughter in law and she makes me feel like I’m one of her own. I transitioned into her family with ease and this will always remind me of the doa I made in front of the kaabah; I prayed for a good spouse and equally good in laws and alhamdulillah, I got them. 

It has been 9 months without her in our lives and although her spirit is still very much around, sometimes I miss her so much I can’t seem to tell others because I wouldn’t think people would believe and/or understand. After all, I am just the daughter in law. But really, it feels like there is an empty hole in my heart. I really miss having her around. It doesn't help that sometimes I feel like I am filling a huge shoes now that she’s gone and I am the only woman  left anchoring the family. How am I supposed to be positive and all that all the time?! I am just me. 

You know how they say if you cannot do great things, then you must do small things in great way. She is a testament to that. A simple person but is awesome in so many ways. The kind of person who would always rise above the condition she is put in, she radiates positivity and calmness even in chaotic and stressful situation. She has been tested in so many ways but she remained the cool and lovable person through it all. Even her final battle against cancer was fought like a goddess, never complaining, almost always in good mood until one day, Allah decided it’s time for her to go somewhere better, more deserving of her. If you know my MIL personally, you would nod in agreement to everything you have read here and you will now be reminded of her beautiful soul. 

I hope I will have enough good deeds so that one day we may meet again in Jannah. I miss you, Mak. A lot. Al-Fatihah.

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Roller-coaster ride.

The first weeks of pantang (confinement) has always been a torture for me. Everytime I think about the recovery process --- the engorgement, the fear of doing number two, the healing of wounds (c-section for the first and vaginal wound for the next two), the seram sejuk nak demam tak demam, restless sleepless nights, roller-coaster emotion --- honestly it scares me more than the labour itself.

Most moms I know say the same thing. Recently I talked to a close relative whose youngest is already 8 but she could still recall in vivid details the horror of early weeks of pantang. Most moms have different set of stories to share but it all will lead to the same conclusion that early days after labour is certainly not a bed of roses. A bed of rose thorn, maybe.

I wrote about post partum depression before on my old blog. It is real. It could happen to any one of us. But physical recovery is another hellish issue altogether. Your recovering body will feel foreign and it will sometimes feel like it is betraying you. What's more with lack of sleep, abstinence of ice cream and iced mocha, minimal fresh air, adjusting to your newborn, aah the whole drill. 

But call me crazy; a precious sweet smelling newborn baby is somewhat worth the ride.


Saturday, September 9, 2017

Unconditional.


The husband said this is favouritism sums up in one picture. LOL. 

I don't think any normal parents have only one particular favourite child --- we may have one that we like more at that particular time because he was behaving better, or eats the food we cooked without complaints, or simply because he takes morning naps LOL --- but we love our children equally as much, or as little (depending on the situation). It is just common that the smallest one gets more attention because he needs it more.

When I was pregnant with Noah, it was a bittersweet journey for both me and Hadi. Hadi was already 3 when I finally found the courage for another child, so it's been a while that it was just me and Hadi. I knew things would surely change once he had to share his mommy's love and attention, and even I was not sure I could love another child as much as I love my firstborn. 

Oh boy was I wrong. Your heart is surely made to expand for the love of your children (Children! NOT WIVES!) 

And like I always say, that’s the awesome thing about a mother’s love; there’s always room for more.