March 17, 2017

some sense of normalcy.

The other day, I saw my neighbours arriving home from work at the same time. 

I was in the kitchen, cradling Ayesha on one hand while preparing the kids' dinner with the other.

And as I watched (or more like stalked) them, I started feeling... for lack of better word..., lonely.

My days and nights (apart from those 10 hours at work) are normally filled with all these "single-handed" activities. So though there are technically 3 people in the house, there's actually very little communication going on. Adult conversations are confined to our daily video calls. And most conversations revolve around what's showing on YouTube and who did what in school. And on the bad days, the house is like an army camp -- no one (but me) gets to say anything. But hey Mama's got to do what she needs to do (right?). 

So, I guess whatever it is that I felt yesterday evening has been a long time coming. 

People tell me that I'm lucky because I still get to see my husband at least 2 weeks once, and that I should appreciate his efforts of wanting to be with us, whenever he can.

It goes without saying that I'm the luckiest woman alive to have him as mine, and better still, to have him home to be with his kids. 

But sometimes, I think people (inadvertently) forget... that those left behind do have a set (or maybe many sets) of challenges of their own and most times, the struggle is real... so real -- 

I feel that being left behind hurts just as much as being the one leaving. I know that it shouldn't be a battle about who's hurting more because who on earth would want that kind of competition and frankly, we're both aware of each others' situation...

It's just that sometimes... I struggle  --

And I question the decisions we've made.
And doubt the love we have.
And I ponder on the daily if there is anything that I can do to make myself feel better. 

And I wonder if some day we'd be able to feel some sense on normalcy, whatever it is that may now be.

March 15, 2017

what day is it, and in what month?


... is there any body in there?! Just nod if you can hear me...

It's been such a long time since I even had the chance to even think of escaping into this world.

No excuses whatsoever as I don't intend to justify my absence. And there really isn't any need for wild guesses as to what I've been up to because hey, I'm a Working Mom of Two with No Help, so that pretty much sums up where all my time and efforts have gone to (I think, HAHAHA).

Quite frankly, I would say that this is one of the toughest "jobs" I've ever had in my life.

I'm not too sure if I'm being too hard on myself or if it's actually normal to beat yourself up over all my little failures in motherhood, but to be honest, I really do feel like a loser on the daily. 

And honestly, it becomes exhausting over time, leaving me tired and uninspired. 

So on days like these, when I'm extra lacking in inspiration, I like to read through my old posts to reminisce the good old days.

And it gets me wondering -- were the good old days really better, or have I developed the inability to be grateful for everything good that I now have? Or could it be that my standards of what is "good" and "bad" be so horribly screwed that I can no longer differentiate one from the other?

February 08, 2017


image googled.
So the other day, I took Atiya Ayesha for her 9-month check-up and jab. And I met this nice petite lady at the nursing room where we instantly started telling each other of our... "predicament".

I'm guessing that she had just had the longest weekend and the rain that morning certainly didn't help her with ferrying her own circus clan out of the house to their respective schools and like me, she had to rush to get her baby for their appointment too. 

Hence, discovering someone else also living with the same plight certainly felt like finding sanctuary. At least that's how it felt to me. 

She asked me what my plans are going forward and I told her that I have, for a long time now, given up on Superwomanry. 

Because as you all already know, I certainly didn't ace the first few months as a Mom of Two. Heck I'm still grasping at straws even though it's been almost a year since, which is the very reason why I have decided to hang my "Superwoman" cape for good.

I always tell people that it's okay to ask for help; that a mother is of no use to anyone if she is sick, or unhappy, or overly tired -- Because sure, becoming a mother does come with its own set of sacrifices and challenges -- that's granted.

But when in the moment, the heart needs some intensive convincing that we've gained more than that which we have lost. And that's where most of us are fighting a lost cause. Because we're told to suck it up and to get used to it and that we are not grateful when we whine or pull a long face when the going gets tough. 

I wasn't too sure where I was going with this post when I began. But I guess I just wanted to let some things off my chest. And I wanted everyone to know that I'm still here, and that I personally feel like it's okay for me to lose my sh*t sometimes.

Especially right this moment when I can no longer remember what it feels like to be me...

December 23, 2016

my 2016, abbreviated.

Abbreviated in probably 2 words;

PJJ; and


Oh, and maybe 2015 in memory too.

It's been such a long time since the last time, in fact, it's been way too long.

I miss this space. I really do.

And to be honest, I kind of miss me too.

November 01, 2016

getting this off my chest -- so I can move on.

Tengok balik list, banyak betul draft these couple of months. BANYAK.

Tapi semua tak post, sudahnya jadi basi, lepas tu, terbuku dalam hati.

Padahal, ada hari, hati meronta nak ceritakan semuanya pada semuanya.

Hari ni, ada sikit masa senggang, rasa nak post balik drafts yang agak relevant walaupun dah basi... just so kita ada reference di kemudian hari, tapi entah -- rasanya selagi satu isi hati ni tak dilepaskan, selagi tu tak boleh move on.

So, here goes.

Nagging is not my second nature. Itu satu. Keduanya, I don't really know how to be angry. Sometimes, marah pun sambil senyum. Lepas tu, kalau marah betul, confirm menangis sendiri out of utter regret. Confirm. Pelik, tapi benar. Itulah dia true story.

Each time I get angry (really angry), I will eventually cry. And I'll feel bad and super tired about it for days on end.

Walaupun begitu, bila dah marah dengan orang/benda for something, it literally takes FOREVER for me to forget. Bukan berdendam, tapi tak boleh lupa. Kalau nak tahu, sebenarnya PENAT bila tak boleh lupa ni... agaknya itu lah sebab saya sentiasa kurus -- benda orang dah tak ingat, kita tak lupa-lupa juga. Tapi terima saja lah, dah Allah jadikan kita begitu... ada lah sebabnya tu. Everyone has their own set of challenges, bukan?

Itu cakap pasal marah dengan orang... kalau marah dengan anak-anak? Pergh. Dia punya sesalan tak boleh nak explain. I used to live with no regrets, tapi lepas dapat anak dua ni ... kumpul regrets yang rasa hari-hari dari anak bangun sampai anak tidur -- boleh gila dibuatnya.

Sebelum ada yang salah faham, let me explain. Bukan regret sebab beranak. Engko gila ke apa. Regret tu terbit daripada marah yang sengaja walaupun tak sengaja, ignorance yang sengaja disebabkan tak sengaja, upset secara sengaja dalam tak sengaja. Ayat tu sendiri dah pening, kan? Boleh imagine tak betapa dalam hati ni pening dia macam mana? Nak explain with words secara waras pun tak boleh, apatah lagi nak show you the shape of my heart. Ewah merapu dah. 

Pokoknya, every time I leave my kids at school, on the way to work mesti nangis. Not that their school is not good; I pay to send them to wonderful schools with wonderful teachers and they are superb at their jobs. Tapi nangis sebab malam sebelumnya mesti dah terjerit, termarah, ter-buat-buat tidur bila anak tanya soalan, terabaikan bila rasa pampers anak penuh. 

Paling best, ter-annoyed masa Atiya Ayesha first said "Mama". Boleh?

"Mama" was her first word and I was annoyed.

Punyalah nak anak sayang kita kali ni (Luqman masa kecik cakap "Daddy" dulu). But since she said "Mama" because wanted my attention and all I was thinking about then was getting the laundry done, I was annoyed. 

Last-last Luqman yang lagi excited. Lepas tu, I got annoyed at Luqman for being excited pulak.

It has been, for lack of better word, such a psychotic 6 months for me.

So much so that I wondered -- macam mana masa dengan Luqman dulu, I could survive the 6 months without my husband alone. Masa tu lagi lah, dengan duit tak ada, susu badan tak cukup, duduk dekat tingkat 8. I didn't eat dinner or bathe either. Solat pun macam pencuri. Tapi masa tu, survive dan seolah tak kisah dengan penat. 

Tapi sekarang macam annoyed. Dah kenapa? 

Jawapannya, sebab circumstances kali ni berbeza. Kali ni, I don't only have me to take care of, I have another human being (Luqman) depending on me too. There was once when I was afraid to ask him if he was hungry because I was sure that he was... tapi Atiya memerap -- tak boleh letak, tak boleh tinggal, tak boleh gerak. All she wanted to do was nurse. Nasib baik husband balik malam tu, so kita kasi Luqman makan at 11 p.m. sambil dia tersengguk-sengguk mengantuk. 

Ada sekali tu, bila kita dah penat, kita try crying it out method -- masa nak mandikan Luqman and masa dia mintak wash poopoo, and it worked -- she cried until she became quiet on her own. But after that, I vowed that it would be the first and only time I would ever do it. I never want to leave my child crying like that ever again. EVER. And I never did it again. Kalau sorang mandi, semua masuk toilet, sorang berak, semorang cuci. 

Tapi tak boleh buat apa, sebab kita semua mesti survive. Paling penting anak-anak mesti survive. Abang must survive -- must be clean, must be healthy, safe, happy. And Adik must have enough milk, enough clean diapers, walaupun mungkin sedikit lacking in affection as compared to when Abang was growing up. Tapi tak apa, we'll make up for lost time, I convinced myself. 

But eventually, pinggang sakit, lutut sakit, kaki sakit, hati sakit.

Sakit sangat sampaikan anak cakap "Mama" pun annoyed. Sakit sangat sampai pergi kerja setiap hari tak pernah tak nangis. Sakit sampaikan 530 petang sampai anak-anak tidur, I would be holding my breath out of nervousness -- takut something goes wrong -- anak demam ke, jatuh ke, perlukan hospital ke. Psychotic kan?

And that's when I realised. sebenarnya for my children to survive, yang paling penting ialah for their Mama (read: me) to survive. My survival was paramount to theirs. 

I forgot that dalam banyak-banyak orang tu, I was the one who cannot fall or fall sick or go to the hospital and most importantly I cannot go crazy. Only problem is, I was on the brink of insanity. 

I realised that that could not go on if I wanted to survive. And I needed help. Big time. 

And just when I needed help the most, help came. And I shall forever be grateful to Allah, for granting me what I need, when I need it the most. 

It's been a week since help arrived. And I haven't made a big deal out of it yet because I don't want to jinx it. 

All I know is that if help is here to stay, we're going to have better days ahead, in sha Allah.