September 26, 2012

my rookie mistakes.

Gah, these past 2 weeks have been CRAYZEH!

 I’ve been so horribly bogged down with work and literally had no time for anything other than.

And now that things are beginning to slow down a little bit (sort of), all I feel like doing is to catch up on my precious sleep. Which I (shamelessly) did for a short while just now though I’m still at work! Cannot tahan.


Due to some organizational changes taking place, I can’t help but to be reminded of the rookie mistakes that I once made. Looking back, I wonder why I was so naïve, so scared, so panicky and so lazy (at times!).

I don’t exactly regret those mistakes I’ve made because they matured me in a way that only experience is able to teach someone. But regrettably, those rookie mistakes haven’t been forgiven or forgotten though years have been put into efforts of redemption.

I have come a long way in Service, yes I have, and realistically speaking, I foresee many more to come. But in order to survive the many more years to come, I’ve learnt (sadly, the hard way) that I’ve got to turn on a deaf ear where my rookie mistakes are brought into the picture at the most inopportune moments. 

To err is human.

And I guess they’re human too.

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September 13, 2012

Out of reach.

Once, we joked about how rice will one day cost us RM 100 per 10 kg bag.

Looking at the price of groceries today, I won’t be so surprised if it actually happens.

People keep telling us Public Servants how lucky we are that we got a pay rise. Of course, I feel lucky too because it does ease some burden off my shoulders. But it doesn’t end my “paycheck to paycheck” situation.

And of course, when surviving a “paycheck to paycheck” situation, dreams about anything other than surviving (i.e. property) remainsa dream.

Anyone who’s been to our Kuarters before would think we don’t love our place enough to decorate it. Or some might think I basically stink at being a homemaker, perhaps? We’ve got the basics covered – fridge, curtains, dining table, coffee table, book rack, bed and a lone sofabed my friend gave as a wedding present. But other than that…

I’ve got admit that I am partially to blame for the “minimal” condition of our apartment because I am unwilling to spend for a space which I know isn’t mine. In other words, I have an issue with permanence (or in this case, the lack of).

Which is why I am contented with what has been bought/given/passed down by others for our apartment. I’m just waiting for the right time to buy us a place of our own. Last year, I was told that this year the property bubble would burst due to the ridiculous property prices…

… only to be met with… more ridiculous prices this year.

I checked out those places where some of my friends have bought properties and … *telan air liur*.

Some cost RM 810k, some RM 650k. And they all bought it when it was less than or about RM 400k, which was last year. *telan air liur lagi*

Properties are beginning to look more and more out of reach. Lucky those who bagged their houses when they were all still affordable. And lucky those who can afford them even when they cost ridiculous amounts. It’s not that I don’t have savings, I do. But money isn’t inflation-proof, the result of which is at this point in time, my money is a little bit worthless against the cost of everything else in the market.

Is it time for me to be less picky about what I want? Should I just invest in something and (for now) forget my dreams of owning a landed property, which is freehold and nested in a good township? Because even with our pay combined, no bank in the world is going to give us a loan for the property of our dreams. Government loan jangan sebut dulu sebab kelayakan tak setara dengan harga rumah.

Macam mana ni?

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September 12, 2012


My family is really big on gatherings. Not only are we big on gatherings, we are big on food as well. It took us 3 years to gauge the proper amount of food to bring to Mak Long’s house for iftar potluck (which is normally held on the first weekend). You should have seen the amount of leftovers on the first year… even after we all took some home.

Now, my mom, coming from that family is naturally big on feeding guests as well. She loves guests, just loves them. But her condition is simple – tell her that they are coming beforehand. I know this because I got into an argument with her once when I surprised her by bringing my (then) fiancé back home for dinner. She got so mad at me because she couldn’t prepare something special for him to eat because hey, she really is a great cook.

Coming from that kind of background, it’s kind of hard for me to not worry about insufficient food or food not being delicious enough when I am expecting guests, the result of which is… I hardly invite anyone over for gatherings, though I love having guests. And having a husband who gets along well with my friends and who helps clean up after, I really don’t have much of a problem. Or at least I shouldn’t, but…

… my only predicament is food.

One – if I buy food, will it be enough?
Two – if I cook, will it (1) be enough; and (2) be tasty enough?

All this leads back to my problem which is… I end up not having any guests over… at all.  

I realise that this is contributed by the lack of confidence I have in my cooking skills. Padahal… cooking really isn’t an issue for me at all. It’s not that I can’t cook at all or that I don’t have anything in my fridge and food cabinet to serve. I do! I just have to muster the courage to cook for someone other than my spouse. Believe you me, I haven’t even cooked for my parents because I know I can never be at par with my mom (walaupun sebenarnya in some areas, I am a better cook than she is haha). The result of which is when they come over… I order. Tak guna punya anak. Ahaha.

I think I once told my mom about this “problem” of mine and she just said… “Alaa bukan ada siapa nak bagi markah, Girl.” But what about my own crazy standards about being a good host? That does count, doesn’t it? Plus, that coming from her?... YEAH RIGHT. Haha

But recently, I’ve been going to friends’ houses and I came to realise one thing – it really isn’t so much about the food most of the time, but rather the hospitality one shows, which really isn’t too much to ask from me. I may not be able to cook all the fancy foods one can think of but if I am sincere in entertaining them, it will shine through, no matter what it is that I serve.

Got to always bear that in mind, always.

Plus, a skill has to be built to be there right? Got to start materialising all those recipes in my head. Practice makes perfect.

Now, who wants to come over? ;)

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September 11, 2012

Missing: The Glow

I am (was?) naturally challenged in the chest department, so pregnancy and breastfeeding brought along with them much welcomed change.

Also, pregnancy brought about some curves to my once scrawny figure.

And I kind of enjoy it.

Except when I’m wiggling into my size 8 jeans. And of course, when I step on to the weighing scale.

Even then, 5 months post-partum, I’m proud to say that I can still fit into my size eights without looking like I stole some skinny girl’s pants. And with new-found curves, I really can’t expect to be 47 kilos anymore, can I?

So, really, what is my problem?

I’m missing the glow, that’s what.

And that glow can only come with exercise, which I am lacking. And that’s just me being kind to myself (because in all truth, I am not exercising at all these days).

I’ve hung my futsal boots for the longest time now. Oh, wait, where are my futsal boots again?

Long gone are those days when I could anticipate Thursdays with longing because there are no more Thursdays to look forward to. Our weekly meets have been halted for the time being due to our ever increasing workloads and shift in priorities (i.e. baby, husband and family).

Though I can no longer play futsal, I wonder when (and if) I’ll ever be able to just slip in a little bit of time to sweat. Just a little. It’s a tough transition this – from being the energizer bunny to not exercising at all. I know that some will tell me exercise can be as easy as doing sit ups and “scissor exercise” with the legs, but it just ain’t the same.

In the end it’s all that sweat that can finally bring back the glow to my face.

And of course, for obvious reasons, I miss it.

I wonder if I can try and fit a gym session in during lunch. Really, it’s at times like these that I sometimes wished my office has one of those fitness centres for us to “let loose”.

Oh, how I miss my glow. It’s partially driving me crazy.

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September 10, 2012

lawak ke der

1 April 2012 

I accompanied my sister to UKM for a pre-medic talk held at the Club House.

After we got the venue wrong the first time etc. and finally entered the right hall, I felt my tummy throbbing. It was uncomfortable, but bearable all the same.

After the talk, we had some lunch at Chan Abdullah in Bangi. The food to me was so-so. But I’m glad I got to taste it anyways.

That night, when my parents came over to my place to pick my sister up, my dad told me I looked slim. My mom said “Girl dah kecut”. I jokingly said I’ll be calling them with their cucu tomorrow.


That night we went to Amed and Mamin’s place. Had some teh tarikh and ice cream. Played with the ever adorable Jamie. And watched Lawak Ke Der for the umpteenth time. It was super funny. I was laughing really hard. And my tummy was throbbing. Every time it throbbed, I tried to wipe that painful expression off my face. To no avail. Every few minutes, my husband asked me whether I was okay. Told him not to worry. Convinced him that I had a high pain threshold.

2 April 2012

We reached home at 1.30 a.m. *gasp you tak sedar diri (then) 9 months pregnant lady what we you thinking?* After I washed up and prayed, I lay motionless on the bed. Tummy throbbing. Told my husband I couldn’t sleep. “Must’ve been Mamin’s yummy teh tarikh”, I thought. Kesian, tak pasal-pasal kena tuduh. Went to the loo several times. All I felt like doing was peeing. And eventually, I felt like doing number 2 too.

After 9 months being spared of period pain, I totally forgot what it felt like. But after so many trips to the loo, I was most definitely reminded. Then, came the show. Went back to bed and told my husband to Google, “what to do if there is a show?” padahal dah baca beribu kali at BabyCentre.

After some research, we decided it was okay for me to not go to the hospital yet. After all, it was just about 10 minutes away.

So, I tried to get some sleep. And that’s when my sleepless journey began. Sometimes, I woke up while on my side, sometimes I was on my back, but most of the time, I was menonggeng. At that point, my contractions were an hour apart from each other (though at that point I didn’t even know that those were contractions). 

Woke up and obviously didn’t go to work. Instead I pottered around the house doing nothing. All I could stomach were Kurma Nabi and air zamzam. My husband insisted that I had some milo and bread, which I did. Got some sleep from 1 p.m. to 3 p.m. Woke up feeling funny. Took a bath and decided, “It’s time.” Luqman was moving lesser than normal when I took my bath.

So, off to Putrajaya Hospital we went. Waited in line to be checked. And later I was strapped to the CTG and contraction monitoring machine. I wanted to ask so many questions but I was secretly hoping it wasn’t time yet. Not because of anything, but I really wanted to eat Roti Boom at Mamak Kembar. Eventually, I asked out of boredom, “How am I doing?”

“Contraction Puan 1 in every 10 minutes. Tapi mild.” 
Oh, that throb those were contractions. Only after they told me did I realise that I did feel some pain every 10 minutes or so. At about 5 p.m., a doctor came in to do VE.

“Puan, maaf ye. Saya nak buat VE dan ia kurang selesa.”

“Okay.” (not that I had a choice haha)

“Puan, puan dah 3 cm.”

“Ha, okay. Boleh keluar kejap tak?”

“Tak boleh puan. Puan kena admit dah.”

So, I was wheeled in to the Labour Room. Well, not really wheeled in lah. I walked in like a gangster, tak sedar diri dah nak beranak sangat. Told them to notify my husband. Again, in the Labour Room, before I was strapped to the machines, I asked if I could eat. Obviously, I was told I couldn’t. “Takut kena buat emergency C-Sect.” Alaa.

So I just lay there on the bed, reciting Surah Maryam while my husband zikir. The pain ebbed in and out but my contractions were getting stronger. Eventually, my ObyGyn came in to check on me. He told me he was going to do a VE. Told me it’s not supposed to be painful or uncomfortable. His trick? Simple. He’ll tell you to breath in when the VE is being conducted. So, I did. And it wasn’t painful AT ALL. No wonder dia doctor pakar.

I was already 5 cm dilated. It was around Maghrib.

He broke my water bag to speed things up. 

THAT’S when the real pain began. To me, my contractions were like an extension of really bad senggugut. But after my water bag was broken… *speechless*. It’s like a gush of warm water pouring out of you. Only, it wasn’t just water. It was sticky and obviously reeked of blood. Ha macam tu lah. 

A lot of the things which happened after that was a blur to me.

The next thing I know, the pain was going from bad to worse. The kind I couldn’t stand. And I have a very high pain threshold, so yes. The pain was bad. Told my husband to get my ObyGyn. But he was delivering another baby! Boleh tak at the same time, 3 of his patients (including myself!) nak deliver? Gahh. Another doctor came in to check on me. She did a VE. I was 8 cm dilated. And she looked surprised. She said that Dr. Hazim kata pukul 10.30 nanti baru check tapi puan dah almost fully dilated dah ni. It was only about 9 p.m.

Soon, I saw a machine being wheeled in. Took a sneak peak and it was Entonox. Husband and I worked out a system. I didn’t have the energy to talk anymore, so I had to signal to him whenever I needed help. I would hit my pillow. He would put the mask on me. I would doze off. And this would go on for what seemed an eternity.

FINALLY, my ObyGyn came. Certified that I was ready to deliver. Baby  was crowning.

I don’t know if I peed or pooped or screamed (it sure did feel like it) but oh, I couldn’t care less because the pain, oh the pain was excruciating!

About 5 pushes later, my dearest baby Luqman was born into the world at 9.33 p.m.

What a relief! Alhamdulillah! 

"Senang beranak awak ni. Tahun depan jumpa saya lagi la kot?" says my ObyGyn.


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One of us.

This is a sticky post. 

You’ve heard about it on the news and read it in the papers. 

You’re probably thinking, “Man, that’s a young age to die.” And you’re probably right. But daripada Allah kita datang, dan kepadaNya kita akan kembali. There is nothing certain in life but death.

And I pray and hope that she did not suffer. I pray and hope that Allah places her in Jannah. 

Though I did not know her personally, I know her sister, my batch mate, whom you’ve probably seen in papers and in TV interviews as well. 

 My advice is – take everything you hear and see with a pinch of salt. Don’t believe them all. 

Though I know some quarters are only trying to do their jobs, this is not a matter to be sensationalised, not something you make a quick buck out of. 

Someone just lost their child, their sister, their friend. 

 Please don’t make someone else’s loss your fortune. 

Lebih baik sedekahkan Al-Fatihah and pray that everything goes well so that arwah can be buried and put to rest quickly. 

I have the full account of the accident, but it really isn’t my place to write about it. I think the family’s going through enough trauma already, as it is. 

Rest in peace, Adikku. Though I never had the chance to get to know you personally, the TKC community mourns for you. I am sure you were a great person. 

You’ll always be one of us. 


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Though naturally competitive, I’ve never thrown anyone under the bus before. This is why, when someone rats about someone else to me, I become more wary about the amount of trust I should place in that someone.

Or everyone, for the matter.

My motto is simple, “If s/he rats on someone else to you, s/he’ll rat on you.”

 Intentionally, unintentionally, purposely or not purposely, innocently or not so innocently – really not the point at all.

Point is that it’s not impossible because it has become second nature to that person.

Be wary, be very, very wary.

And keep all your indiscretions to yourself. You don’t know who’s watching. And what they’ll be saying (to someone else).

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September 07, 2012


Every time I meet someone who is pregnant, I recommend 3 things –

1. Surah Maryam, Surah Luqman, Surah Yusuf;
2. Kurma Nabi, air zam zam; and
3. Pregnancy is not a disability or disease.

 I actually found out I was pregnant when Luqman was about 7 weeks in the womb. The moment we knew, my husband downloaded the 3 Surah I mentioned above and we would put the Surah on loop the whole night long, every single night while we slept.

After that, as the verses became more and more familiar to me, I graduated to reading them from the Quran myself. Eventually, every free waking hour I had was spent reciting Surah Maryam and Surah Luqman. As for Surah Yusuf, though I am ashamed to admit, I did find it a little bit difficult so for fear of reciting it wrongly, I stuck to listening instead.

Nearing my due date, it just didn’t seem right for me not to listen to those Surah or for me to not recite them. So, I read them every time I felt like I was wasting time i.e. waiting for Doctor’s appointment, when I finished my work, waiting for husband to pick me up. It really is simple, apparently and I think at that point in time, I put my iQuran App to full use. I was reading the Quran literally anytime, anywhere.

I don’t think I’ve written about my labour before, right? But anyone who’s heard my labour stories would remark, “Oh, senangnya!” 

And… after reading birth stories of others whom I silently stalk (hihi!), I think I have got to agree. Because I was in active labour for only 5 hours.

And I was reading Surah Maryam in the labour room ‘til the very last minute before I couldn’t stand the pain anymore. Labour stories will come up soon.

*I realise it’s been 5 months since the last time I said the same*


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September 04, 2012

paddle pop.

Presenting to you:

oh my pipi: mengalahkan Luqman. Hmmph.

My most overused, over featured, ever reliable tudung sepuluh ringgit I bought from one of the stalls at Alamanda.

 Love it!

Though I've got to agree with my husband who told me I looked like a huge paddle pop going to work yesterday.

Eheh. *sheepish grin*

As usual, there was really no point in this. Eheh. 

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Look at the stars,
look how they shine for you,
And everything you do,
And they were all yellow.
-Coldplay, Yellow.

I've always loved 4-working-day weeks. Love, love, love. By the time I get back to work, I'm always rested. And rejuvenated. And gusty. And all the positive things in the world you can think of. Rest does wonders to us, don't you think? ;)

And as much as I always find reason to go back to TTDI and my husband finds reason to stay there, like watching football with the boys, for instance, it's being home, as in our own home that makes the best weekends.

And that's exactly where we were.

After making rounds to open houses within our vicinity and also having the best home cooked meals by moi (ecece perasan!) plus unlimited hug-time with all 3 of us snuggling on our bed, I felt like I was ready to conquer the world, come yesterday.

And conquer it, I did.

These days, I hardly ever suffer Monday blues anymore and remind myself that it is all, just a state of mind. Sometimes, I even forget what day it is. Well, except Thursdays of course, because I would need to prepare baju batik for both of us. And of course, Fridays, for obvious reasons. Other than that, despite the downs, I tell myself that every day is a gift, I shall make the most out of it.

Anyways, there was no real point in writing this post. I just wanted to share a photo of myself with Myra, who invited us over to her abode for some good food with fun-loving people. Thanks for having us, dear! It was really nice to see you.


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September 01, 2012

My happy pill

“People who live in the now, those people make things happen.”
-Cesar Millan

Heads bent over our meals and we are giggling at a common joke. Or looking oh so serious discussing a matter of utmost importance. If I weren’t wearing my rings, people would think I am my husband’s secret lover. And when we’re on the phone with each other, people remark, “Ish, macam orang bercinta!”

And I seriously don’t see what the problem is with that.

Aren’t we all supposed to still be in love, even more so after getting married?

This man I am with right now is the one I’ve been through a hundred (mis)adventures with. I’ve fought with him ‘til both our worlds shook, we’ve had our fair share of misunderstandings but then again, there have been a million other wonderful moments deeming our fights “overtaken by event”. And so far, we’ve managed to effectively communicate our dissatisfactions and appreciation towards each other in our own special ways.

No doubt things have changed with the arrival of our baby. In fact, I’ve resigned to the fact that things will never quite be the same again. In selfish moments, I even wonder if we could ever rekindle what has been lost what with a lil’ infant demanding all of my time and energy these days.

I always wonder if he would (or still does), love me the same. Despite everything that has changed for us.

But believe it or not, my husband is still, one of my bestest friends and my happy pill. It’s like he knows the exact moment to pop into my system with something as elaborate as a surprise gift. Or something as simple as downloading of my favourite show.

In about a month or so, things are going to change for sure. We’ve really just got to live in the now at the moment. And make more effort to fight less, love more and make more doa so that when he comes back into our arms, he would still be the same happy pill that he is and always has been or even better.

Oh, how I will miss you.

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