best decision ever.

Though I've gained a whole lot from motherhood (weight one of it, BAHAHAHAHA), there is one sure thing that I've inadvertently lost, which is my spontaneity.

I admit that I miss that part of me (sometimes), but most times, I'm more than happy to have the kids as the penultimate consideration in everything I do. They've become my check and balance of some sort and frankly I like it that way.

But, on occasion... I do let loose and let that much missed side of me surface. Like I did last weekend.

Last weekend was SO MUCH FUN! On a whim, we went roadtripping with my husband back to his place down south because he had some work commitments he had to attend to. And while he went to work, we had the time of our lives, just chilling and enjoying our time together. 

Also... just to support his event, I joined in the Fun Run and managed to get 3rd! And I also got a prize from the lucky draw! He wasn't biased, I promise! So getting 3rd was all my hard work and getting the prize was just my luck. Though I do think that he was secretly expecting me to get first place because we're both kiasu like that, haha. 

Well, anyways, we all slept in, ate out, played by the beach, dipped in the pool and sang and danced and sang again and though our lives was quite the moving circus, we would definitely do it all over again, I'm sure (though maybe we'll go by flight this time? haha).

And from the trip, there was a major take home lesson for me (especially); I learned to appreciate how much work my husband does to put food on our table and how much effort he puts in to just be home. It was a huge eye opener and I can safely say how proud I am of how well he's doing what he's doing. 

Making that decision on a whim was one of the best decisions I've made, ever!

And now that we're home, we can't hardly wait for our next family trip.

-- happening in 5 more sleeps! 

♥

where do I even begin?

There really isn't anyone or anything to blame for my absence from this space. I've lost count of the many times I've stared into this "Compose" space and wondered,

"Where do I begin?"

Because between then (read: the last post) and now... so many things have taken place. And each time I think of everything that has happened during that space of time, my reactions range from anxiety to relief to sadness. Worst still, there are times when they're all bundled as one huge feeling ... and that's when it becomes overbearingly overwhelming.

Like it is today. 

And just so happens, both my babies are sound asleep and I'm running on more caffeine that usual, which is why I'm still awake. So, I decided to come back to this "old friend" of mine to see if I could "unload" ... in hopes that I would feel a whole lot better later.

So, anyway, I digress. Let's get back to where I should begin.

Because really. After all this time, how do I even begin?

Shall we begin with the multiple clinic visits and  hospitalisations that happened 2 weeks apart in the span of 6 weeks?

Or should we start with how my relationship with my son has changed since he turned 5?

Maybe we could begin with how a long distance relationship has shaped and affected the dynamics of this clingy clan I have called my nucleus family?

Or should we start with how different I have become since I've had no choice but to be strong? And also how much I resent being "tough" at times?

Or shall we begin with how strongly I have been feeling lately about how unappreciated working women are in general and how my contributions somehow seem insignificant no matter how much I put in?

Really. With all of these going through my head. Is there really anywhere that I can begin?

All I know is that I no longer know how to unload this load on my back, in brain and everywhere else that hurts. Which is why I'm back here right now, trying to let some of that pain go.

Because I think that August is the straw that broke the camel's back. And I really need an outlet to let go.

In August, I was physically and emotionally stretched -- both at home and at work. If felt like such a long month (it is a long month with 31 days to begin with) and each day felt like a neverending battle against time. By the end of each working day, I just wanted to get back home to my babies -- but I didn't really want to. I'm not sure if that makes any sense at all, but I'm sure some people would understand how it is that I feel. And that unhealthy cycle just went on and on and on -- like a carousel that wouldn't stop.

Hence here I am -- looking green and sick. Sick from the routine. And sick of being tired. If I had to pick one word that could succinctly explain my current feelings -- it would be jaded.

So, now that I've unloaded some of that off... how does a jaded person like me even begin? Really. I'd really like to know how do I even begin.

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.

2 months (and 2 teeth) later.

Looks like this is what my "blogger" life has been reduced to; a 2-month once update.

Ashamed to call myself a "blogger" anymore because (1) not sure how relevant blogs are in the world of growing social media; and (2) I've jumped on the "bandwagon" of no updates for want of time (mostly).

Yet, at the same time... having kept this blog for so long, doing away with it doesn't seem like an option at all. 

My baby girl is now 6 months and 1 week young. She's currently down with fever, cutting 2 teeth at once. Can't flip onto her tummy by herself yet... but when you give her tummy time, she's pretty mobile. So, I really have to watch her because man is that girl fast! No solids yet because she can't sit upright on her own... but to be completely honest, I actually feel a little bit sayang to give her solids after all that hard work making sure she's 100% (b)oo(b)fed up to this point.

Other than that...

6 months after, we're still trying our best to understand each other.

I've relented to the fact that I can never be the same mother I was to Luqman when raising Atiya. And though I'm 6 months late in coming to that realisation, I do admit that admitting that fact has caused much liberation (to my surprise). Not sure who's standards I was trying to live up to previously, but now that I'm over being hard on myself, I should probably start to enjoy my girl before it's too late.

Other than that...

Life has been quite uneventful, I must say -- and the irony is that it has left me with very little (leisure) time in hand. I sometimes forget the person I was before I became a mom of two and my passion for the things I used to love -- and life generally... has just been reduced to well, going through day after day after day after day.

I know I sound a little ungrateful, unhappy even (which honestly is not the case at all)... but I can't help but sound that way while I'm going through this toughest phase (i.e. the First 18 Months) alone. 

And while I hope that this phase will pass, I do also hope that Atiya won't grow up too fast, leaving all her baby fat behind as a mere memory. In fact, like I've mentioned so many times before, I'd like for me to  be able to baby her a little while longer and for a chance for us to be able to understand each other a little bit better. 

So, that should be all you need to know as an update at 2 months (and 2 teeth) later.

I hope I will once again find the light in my soul -- and that that light would one day show in these writings that I very much like to share. 

mencari sebuah jawaban.

I just sent out my response to HR with regards to my upcoming transfer. And I've been asking around for some empty boxes for me to put my 3 years worth of stuff in. I haven't even acclimatised to being back in this office and now, I've got to prep myself for the new place, which isn't really that new come to think of it... but I have been away for 3 years, so I don't really know what to expect anymore.

I really don't know where I should begin. 

All I know is that this is the answer. 

You see, we've been spending some time looking for answers -- for everything. 

Life has thrown us a curveball we're not entirely sure how to deal with... and it's been super overwhelming to say the least. I no longer feel bad about crying openly about it and I no longer feel sorry for not having things figured out. My only regret is that I sometimes lose my temper and my firstborn has to bear the brunt of it, which gets me really upset every single time. 

Thing is, can anybody help it -- can anyone really abstain from losing their temper when there's just so much to do and seemingly so little time to do them. And what is up with children and their doing everything in tandem? Berak in tandem, cry in tandem, asking for food in tandem. They're like a tag team despite their age gap and I find my patience thinning every single day. 

I've got to admit that I sometimes feel really inferior to mothers in the same boat as myself who seem unfazed by their circumstances -- and doing everything that I'm currently doing and more. Sometimes I catch myself wondering if they have a velcro baby like mine... or if they've deafened their ears to their baby's cries or if their babies don't cry to be picked up at all. And I sometimes wonder when on earth do these mothers pump milk and when do they ever sleep?

 Don't we all have the same 24 hours in a day...?

I'm so full of questions -- and I was so ready for answers when the Transfer Order came.

And even then, I was plagued by fear of my uncertain future.

Until I backtracked this whole year and realised how things have fallen into place just the way it should be even though there were days when I thought things turned out differently than they should have.

And that's when I realised -- that all I need to do is my best -- and leave Allah to do the rest.


Indeed He is the Best Planner -- so who am I to question his Grand Plans? 

Inilah dia jawapan yang dicari -- for now at least.

As a take home message for anyone who actually finished reading this --

"Always believe that someone will one day recognise your worth; if it isn't a person -- it would be The One who is bigger than a person." (says my Mom, may Allah bless her soul)

Now... let's get packing!

hormone casserole

Have you ever felt like one?

I certainly have and am certainly feeling like one right.this.moment.

Totally not cool, if you asked me, especially if all waterworks began right after my husband told me "I'll see you on Saturday, okay?"

So.Not. Cool. And ironic to say the least.

Thing is this always, always happens when he's been home more than "normal" -- like when he comes home in the middle of the week for meetings in HQ or he's home for more than 2-3 days, for example.

Thing is, I love him being home! I mean, OF COURSE I love it when he's home. But the parting makes it SEEM like I don't like it that he's home for more than "normal" because it will inadvertently end up with me in tears! And believe you me, that tear-streaked, swollen eyes-nose-face combo does not make a pretty sight for sore-eyes, especially not in the wee hours of the morning, when someone is about to begin a 4-hour long journey!

My husband's confusion after I broke down this morning after he said "I'll see you on Saturday, okay?" was so apparent... just thinking about it (in retrospect of course...) makes all of this seem so funny! Of course, when it was all happening, it wasn't so funny, because right now, I know that I just sounded and looked so silly, haih. But at the time, I just couldn't help it, please!

I (partly) attribute this to my being pregnant of course... and only partly because crying really is my special power, if I ever had to declare any hehe. Plus it would be so unfair to unload all the blame on Adik Baby for all these tears because clearly, it isn't her fault at all.

It's just that... with 16 days (more or less) to go, I'm really not sure how I should feel.

I'm really not sure if there's enough time to do the things that I have to do like stock up home-cooked food for my boy since he's such an eater and he loves.my.cooking (at least for now, because he doesn't have much of a choice hehe). Plus the fact that there's no packed hospital bag all set and ready in the car (GASP!), which kind of makes me want to kick myself in the teeth, yet at the same time, I'm so beat at the end of the day, I kind of feel like I should cut myself some slack.

And the funny thing is that... I am at the moment, making such a big deal out of the silliest, smallest things -- like whether or not I actually bought that bunny rabbit cap for Adik Baby in the first place?; or whether or not I'd be able to get that cute little cupboard I've been aiming for before I give birth?; or whether or not I'd be able to eat that lovely mango lassi-fruit combo which my ex-boss treated me to again before I go to the labour room; or when I would be able to get all the ingredients needed to make that parfait (probably the only thing I'm craving at this point); or whether I should get a whole month's stock of disposable panties and how much sanitary pads and panties should I be getting again? -- I've gone without my period for so long now that I have forgotten all about them. 

Eh, wait, what on earth am I supposed to bring to the hospital? I've been googling way too much on what not to bring that I now officially don't know what I should bring. And bila nak cuci breastpump parts and bottles ni???

Can you sense my panic? HAHAHAH.

Maybe I should consider going out for lunch. Like right about now?

Sheesh, I think I really am going nuts! Like a walking waddling human hormone casserole!

without a doubt

Without a doubt, when adult companionship and conversation is scarce during the week while waiting for my husband to come home -- the struggle is real. Without a doubt, when I sometimes lose my cool and the temperature rises between us (re: Luqman and I) both, we've had to go through our fair share of fights, causing bucketful of tears and teary nights.

But on days like today just last week, where laughter was free-flow, hugs were aplenty and sloppy kisses abundant, I think about all my early motherhood hurdles, my sleepless nights and constant worrying and remind myself that even though good things take time to reap after they are sowed, they are, without a doubt, (wonderfully!) worth it after all. 

These are the last few of my weeks alone with Luqman -- and somehow, unlike how most mothers feel, I am not feeling sad about the fact that he will be getting a sibling to share with me soon. More than anything, I'm mostly excited!

Although some days he acts out in rebellion (especially after a trip to the mall where everything is about buying his Adik's things) and tells me outright how he only loves me and not his Adik, most days, he ADORES her and talks to her like she's already born.

There are endless kisses to my growing belly despite his constant mocking of how huge my face is or how big I am in general (you have no idea how cheeky he is and I have no idea where he gets it from *stares at husband hmmm*) and their unilateral conversations are really, really comical plus he's really, really protective over this little girl now growing inside of me -- that I feel lucky and blessed to have such an understanding firstborn. His jealousy and antics postpartum is something we'll just have to embrace and deal with later when the time comes.

I'm really excited to meet my little baby girl too! -- because I feel like I'm so ready for this -- and also because I'm feeling so heavy and lethargic and sleepy all the time hehe. I know things won't get any easier when the newborn is actually out in the "real world" but still doesn't turn me off from wanting to see her and hold her in my arms and plant kisses on that face which she is so intent on hiding. Can you believe that the last time I saw her face during her scan was in December? Thereafter she wouldn't let any of us see that face! Grrr!

Anyways, speaking of being so ready, I really actually am not sure how I'm going to fair as a mother of 2. The endless possibilities scare me -- how it's going to change me scares me -- how it's going to affect us all scares me. Having said that though, I am trying to study every early motherhood hurdle I had to go through previously in hopes that I would be able to jump through them more gracefully this time -- or better still, eliminate the hurdle altogether.

But if despite all my efforts I'm still met with either a different set or the same set of obstacles along the way, this post would be here to remind me that at some point, all of it, without a doubt, is worth it. Wonderfully worth it.

Like really, with this (or better 2 of this!) to come home to, why wouldn't it be, right ;)

 

 

muka gembira makan roti krim coklat.

basic, but specific.

re: last post

Some people don't mind slogging on housework but for me personally, it is one of my biggest sources of stress. Come to think of it, among the reasons why I was so stressed out after the Big Move last year is because of the never ending laundry (I'm serious, it's a valid reason, it's not even funny!). So these days, I am not afraid to tell people that I reach out -- that I ask for help -- and that I don't slog. That I just can't.

Like I said in my previous post, even my husband knows that I need support.

Most people will tell me that since we're a couple, we should give each other support, people on Facebook will forward to me articles on "Tanggungjawab Suami Isteri" and the likes and while I know and appreciate the extra knowledge I get from those articles and scholarly sayings, I also know that to each their own -- and that support comes in many different forms.

Thing about me is that while I know I need support and the support I need is basic, I also know for a fact that my kind of basic -- is specific. 

 Specific as in -

Clothes are washed, hanged and dried in a certain way --  food is prepared in a particular way -- and my kitchen is later kept clean -- yes, you guessed it -- in a very particular way. My dishes must be thoroughly dried before they are kept in the cupboard and hear this -- they MUST be returned to the (specific) cupboard(s). NOT to be hanged out to dry forever and ever and ever no matter how many times you're going to reuse them in the future. And oh, I wash all my place mats after every meal -- simply wiping them and leaving them on the table until the next meal will never do.

My idea of a clean floor is one which is mopped with water (only water) at least 3 times. I don't care much for the floor cleaner and how nice it smells, I care more about whether or not the floor is harbouring dust. 

I care about how often towels and telekungs are washed -- and by my standards, Luqman's towels which I pack for him to school must be washed daily because we don't know with whom he's had to accidentally share with while he's there (which is the reason why he's got 9 of those. Yes, 9!) and ours go into the machine weekly.

Our water bottles are washed daily -- and every single part of Luqman's water bottle is dismantled so that I can clean the cap, the body, the straw and each little part before the next batch of plain water is filled in (which is the reason why he has 3 different straw cups and bottles for when he needs water while the other bottle is being washed and dried). The same apply to his milk bottles -- they are at least rinsed before the next feed (at night) and washed after each feed during the day -- also dismantled from top to toe. 

My bed must be made. But I don't like just anyone in my room. I also don't like people touching my things and changing its order without my permission.   

I don't have OCD (okay, maybe it's selective OCD and I don't know any better) and I know some thing's have got to give, but still there are things which I can never give up on. 

Now as for specific emotional support --

I appreciate presence in a comfortable silence. 

It's so simple, but it's really not.

Sometimes, people think that all the "comforting" and "words of wisdom" are necessary at the most crucial times such as labour and the "wee hour morning goodbyes with my husband" or when I'm having a heated argument with Luqman, for example -- but I guess it doesn't always apply to me. I appreciate if people let me decide on whether or not I want to deal with my sorrows on my own or in a crowd -- and I really appreciate if people would just pray for me when I reach out (especially online).

So, how many people can give that kind of (specific) support? Even some well meaning family members can't give me that.

And because of that, unless that support is in the form of a maid, or someone who is paid/commissioned to do specific jobs for me in those specific ways, I can't tell them what to do and how to do it -- because that someone could be family -- and the last people you want to hurt (no matter how unintentionally) are your own well-meaning family. Not that I plan on hurting my maid/confinement lady if I get one in the future but you get the drift, right? That if someone is commissioned and paid to do something for you, it is alot easier to tell them your specifics. That it makes alot of difference because you have some form of control over how things get done in your own home.

I scare myself with my own requirements sometimes, but being alone has opened up my mind to my own disabilities and shortcomings -- and has made me brave enough to know and admit how difficult I can be to please.

Which is why, when my husband suggests support, I tell him that there are very few people/things that can give me actual support. Because as basic and simplistic as I may be, my idea of basic -- is rather specific.

Now, I've just got to figure out how to fulfill them.

--___________--"

more complicated than I seem.

Do you prefer traveling at night or in the mornings?

I don't mind either. 

So, why don't you travel at night so that you have some time to rest before you go to work?

So that you won't cry.

But I will cry regardless - it has nothing to do with night or morning. 

No, what I meant was that I don't want him to see you cry.

xxx

But yesterday, despite my best efforts, I cried -- in front of him -- I cried. The day's events were just overly overwhelming. No one hurt me and no one made me cry -- at least not intentionally -- I just did.

I know that sometimes, he says the darnest things -- things he doesn't at all mean, but there are times when his words just cut through my heart like a knife and it baffles me as to why I'm so hurt because hey, let's face it -- he's just 4!

It may just be my raging hormones. It may also be my way of telling him how hurt I feel when I see him cry. It may just be my fear of the unknown -- of the time when there will be 2 of them to deal instead of just 1. It may also be my guilt towards the new baby with whom I'm already feeling like a total failure with even before I've started!

My husband tells me that I need support. I tell him that in reality, there are very few people/things that can give me actual support. Not that I'm ungrateful or anything, but there are times when I can be more complicated than I seem. 

little things that mean big things.

I just turned 31 on 12.02.2016 but it kind of feels like I've been celebrating for a while now already.

It began with - 

Ms. Cherry Blossom wheeshing through our gates with an unexpectedly meaningful "symbol of love", so to speak, which has made us fuss over it silly. 

Then, came his trip back to us, bearing gifts -- (1) of his arriving home safely; and (2) the thing which I have for a long while now, been needing so very badly. 

On The Day itself, came a bouquet of flowers through my door with a really funny delivery story -- which then lead to a colleague discovering that that day was my birthday. 

So, after lunch, they (my colleagues) cheekily sneaked up on me in my room bearing cakes to surprise me.

-- only to be surprised in return when a certain "someone" (re: Luqman) crept out from under my table, where he was previously napping. 

The string of all things good seem to have some spillover effect on the weekends -- where our time was well spent with friends and family. 

And the only bummer was probably my having to watch my husband drive back to where he came from while I got all teary (yes, 1 month in the arrangement and I'm still pretty much a crybaby).

This year, we didn't take the obligatory leave to celebrate as we do normally. And nope, we didn't plan on anything fancy.

Instead, we embraced life as it came and gave each other what we needed the most -- which is our presence, our patience, our love -- and each other. 

-- and of course, all the little things that mean big things that matter.

in case this is the last time.

"Let me photograph you in this light

in case this is the last time

that we might be exactly like we were

before we realised

we we sad of getting old

it made us restless

it was just like a movie

it was just like a song..."

Last weekend was a very emotional weekend for us since my husband lost 2 of his good friends -- both of whom I knew -- one through my friendship with one of my TKC girls and the other, through basketball gatherings. 

There are really no words I can say right now -- as those words have been said to those who matter the most.

But the song above basically captures my thoughts (and hopefully explains the tears) as I watched my husband drive away in the wee hours of Sunday morning, back to where he came from, demi sesuap rezeki. 

Because it took those two deaths to make me really realise that "from him we come and to him we shall return". 

Al-Fatihah for the both of them. May they both be placed among the righteous and rest peacefully.

the struggle is real.

Today is my "Saturday" although it's only Friday on the calendar. 

Last night we waited with baited breathes for the long-anticipated arrival of Daddy (it's been 2 weeks since we parted!!!). And when he finally arrived, we both just didn't want to sleep because sleeping seemed like such a waste of valuable time. But we had to sleep because we have work and school respectively to attend today although it's already the weekends for Daddy.

 

This is probably my first time experiencing a mismatch insofar as weekends go and I've got to tell you -- the struggle is real. 

So, hats off to those who have been doing this for yonks and years. 

I know that these hours will eventually turn into days, then weeks, then months and then years and eventually, it will all be over (will it?) but for now, everything seems so... indefinite.   

I'm at that stage where I'm not really sure what I should do. 

For me, life has always ironed itself out in the way it should be without too much interference on my part, especially when it comes to things which are beyond my control. I have always, always believed that good things come to those who wait (and pray - hard) -- In fact, this current unexpected long-distance relationship is something I accept with arms and heart wide open (notwithstanding the bucketful of tears, of course) because there was a point in our lives when I asked for the best for us -- just because I didn't know any better myself. 

So, I consider this the answer to my prayers -- although the situation might seem a little less than ideal.

Some might argue that better things come to those who hustle, which I actually agree -- but only to a certain extent. 

Because for me, when one hustles, they have to know what they are hustling for, which in my case -- I just don't know... at least not yet. 

All I know is that at the moment, I'm really feeling that the struggle is real. Because although tomorrow is only Saturday, in actual fact, it's already "Sunday" for us all.

May Allah ease our affairs and show me what I should do. 

we've been down this road before.

Exactly a week ago, The Real Day came. 

I remember how we delayed the departure with our 1001 excuses -- until -- it just wasn't safe or sensible to do so anymore and that's when we finally parted ways. 

I told you that I would never get used to it (and frankly I don't think I'm going to try hehe), so that you knew why I was crying -- and after knowing me for so long, you knew that I was better off crying anyway. 

Because we've been down this road before. 

We already know that it doesn't get any easier -- we just get better. We get better at managing whatever that needs to be managed -- like our expectations -- our time -- our relationship -- ourselves. 

Like today for example, despite telling myself to take things slow, I actually woke up super early to cook and get some laundry done. I even managed to slot a catnap in between while my son minded himself. I've been down this road before. I know that the only way for me to get things done in the way I want them done is by putting in some extra hours -- which can either be through staying up or rising early. And of course, being the morning person that I am, I'd choose to rise early. That, or I should really consider getting myself some permanent domestic help, especially with Adik Baby on the way.

Well, anyways. It's been a week since The Real Day and things have been... okay? My emotional state is of course, rather questionable but hey, I'm 25 weeks pregnant -- most 25-week pregnant women I know get emotional over the silliest things so I'll grant myself some leeway for all the unexplainable tears I've cried. 

Sometimes -- I'm reminded of how I just stood by the front door, not budging until your headlights disappeared. 

Sometimes -- I think about how wrong it felt to switch the porch lights off because we never do that until everyone of us is home.

Sometimes, I am reminded of October; some other times those 10 days in December. 

Sometimes, I'm overwhelmed with how empty your side of the bed is and how we both seem to not encroach into it, you know, just in case you show up in the middle of the night. 

So, yes, my emotional state is rather questionable. But we've been through this before.

And God willing, we will survive this one too -- hopefully unscathed.

♥

the end.

The long awaited end of 6 months finally came on 12.04.2013.

I embraced it with euphoria, nothing less.

That night, I slept sandwiched between my boys, who both hugged me lovingly, and equally tight.

Now that we're three, we are finally ONE.

Thank you Allah for protecting us, for reuniting us, for keeping the love alive.

And I am once again, complete.

kau yang bernama Cinta.

Kau yang bernama Cinta,

Kau yang memberi rasa,

Kau yang ilhamkan Bahagia,

Hingga aku terasa indah.

- Yang Terindah

Last weekend, he came back for a bit (for actually less than 24 hours), before heading off to another module.

We stayed up on Saturday night, looking through old photos. I was the one who insisted. And he, being him, naturally obliged.

We ended up having a really good laugh.

At ourselves.
At Luqman.
At our life.

Our wonderful life.

It has been far from perfect.

But it has been wonderful, nonetheless.

It's easy to fall prey to jealousy and mistrust, especially in trying times like these, but we both try not to. We've made so much effort to stay strong. We've both been really honest with each other. We've come oh so very far.

Anything can happen, even at this point in time. And I keep reminding myself that it could happen to anyone. Yes, anyone, even us. We are not invincible. We never will be. But it's okay. We can still die standing, just trying. 

Only 2 months and 22 days to go. We'll ace this. Let's promise.

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pomp and circumstance.

If you’re a regular on this space, you’d know how big I am on dates. Yes dates; both the verb and noun. I’ve always believed that they don’t come round often and obviously come with no repeats, thus they must be commemorated as best as possible.

So, I chose to get married on 01.01.11, two years ago.

Ushering in the New Year with such an important event is wonderful. It’s the best thing to do because it's impossible to forget. Yet, that is also one of the worst features about getting married on New Year’s Day – you forgo every other celebration to make way for something way more important, thus causing a huge void in your heart when you’re forced to make way for things that cannot be changed.

Obviously, I wanted this year to be better than the last, but, oh well.

Am I even making sense here, you think?

So, I celebrated my 2nd Anniversary alone. Well, sort of.

I was basically dealing with a clingy baby who refused to be left alone and because of that, he didn’t want to sleep. Because of that, I became agitated and he obviously sensed it and it made things so much worse. At one point, I had to take a breather and left him to cry in the playpen. And when I walked back into the room, he gave me the most dazzling toothy smile like he was so pleased to see me. I literally melted so I picked him up, planted kisses and blew bubbles on his cheeks and tummy. And soon after, we dozed off together.

At some point yesterday, after I had chowed down millions of empty calories for quick energy, I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself. I strapped my baby onto his car seat and went off to Alamanda for dinner. During dinner, we did our own stuff and kept to ourselves. We had both been focussing so much of our energy, love and attention on each other, not just yesterday but also for the past 3 months or so, especially and I needed that time off. And I kind of think that my baby appreciated that too.

My husband was so surprised that I let my baby entertain himself during dinner, but hey, I’m only human.

Basically that was how I spent the day. Alone, tired and hungry.

Yet, despite being alone, I longed for that moment of solitude. For that rare moment when I’m not running the house or slipping away from my baby to get a chore done or for that moment of uninterrupted time in front of my laptop.

About 10 minutes to midnight on 01.01.2013, I switched on my laptop and drafted 2 posts, both of which sounded so… fake. In the end, all I could think about is my baby’s toothy smile and his masham smell.

I switched off my laptop and joined him on the bed, dozing off while watching him sleep.

Soon after, he woke up searching for me and came crawling towards me with his eyes closed.

At that point, all waterworks broke loose. I should have been more grateful. After all, there is no one else on earth who could offer me such pure and unconditional love even after how I acted.

I may be the victim of circumstance, but he shouldn’t have become the victim of my emotions.

There’s always next year. Insya Allah.

my hot date.

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those 36 hours.

And when the daylight comes I'll have to go

But tonight I’m gonna hold you so close

Cause in the daylight we'll be on our own

But tonight I need to hold you so close

- Maroon 5

That kind of sums up what I felt the entirety of last weekend.

Just to give myself a little bit of credit, I think I’m getting better at handling the distance. Come to think of it, it’s not even something novel to me. We’ve been there. We’ve done that. Probably for about 6 years or more before we got married.

But there are just times when being apart, just… sucks. Every Sunday when he’s home sucks. Not because he’s home, but because Sundays are typically associated with counting hours until he departs.

That means we’ve basically got to cram all our plans into less than a day and a half.

 But even if we didn't have any plans, my lazy weekends with my husband are now robbed.

I know that it’s entering our 10^th week of distance (already!) and the next thing I know, it’s going to be April 2013 and we’ll be together again (and probably then we’d start arguing about all the stupid things again hahaha), but it doesn’t make this waiting any less unpleasant than it already is.

Perhaps I should stop counting, not that I am at the moment. Not consciously anyway.

And perhaps I should start counting my blessings instead.

Because all in all, I’ve got to admit that absence does make the heart grow fonder.

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post Day 1

“Being loved deeply by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”

Hello, assalamulaikum.

How many days has it been already? 5, 6, 7, 10? I know people say that time flies when you’re having fun, but I guess people forgot that the same happens when you’re busy trying to be Supermommy too.

If there’s anything good about being forced into single parenthood, it is most probably the gift of efficiency that one gains. With a hardened resolve to survive for the sake of my baby, I have toughened my heart and cleared my head of all negativity. Also, I decided that it was high time I wiped my tears dry, come the 3^rd day.

I thought I would take 30 days to get over things, but I guess I’m a lot tougher than I think.

Life hasn’t been a breeze but it hasn’t been bad either. With my newly acquired “gift”, I have learnt to be very economical with my movements. Each and every action is properly calculated, planned and executed according to their order of priority.

And of course, it’s no surprise that Luqman ranks first in that order.

He’s been a joy, that boy. Apart from being clingy (which is expected), he’s not difficult to take care of at all. Most mornings are hectic but once he got the idea that I’m not going to pick him up from the car seat when he cries, he doesn’t throw as much tantrum anymore. Most days after work, we would sit in front of the TV together, watching news, and later adjourn to guling-guling on the bed playing with each other’s cheeks.

After he hit the 6-month mark, I felt like time flew by so fast. Too fast, in fact.  He will never be 6 months again.

Each day is a different day for us. Each day something new is discovered. Like how I discovered his sudden love for the kitchen just yesterday. Terlompat-lompat each time I carry him to the fridge.  And because of that, I am willing to spend each and every waking hour I have with him, even if it means that I have to wake up as early as 3 a.m. the next morning to get things done.

If I didn’t understand what unconditional love meant before, I most definitely do now.

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Day 1: Get a Grip, Move On.

“Marriage is like the dark. We are scared of it, we face it anyway and eventually, we find solace in it.”

By Asar, both Luqman and I manage to nap; probably fatigued from our tears. I try not to, but I can’t help it; each time Luqman cries, I do too. Because I know he is searching for his Daddy. Sometimes, I catch him looking at our bedroom door, just waiting expectantly for his jolly ol’ Daddy to come bouncing through, being all funny. But, ah…

Come nightfall, the loneliness becomes overbearing. I switch on all the lights, all the fans, the TV, the ventilator and everything else imaginable.

Just so the silence does not become deafening.

I want to do a million household chores, but the moment I get out of Luqman’s sight, he cries his lungs out. Eventually, I give in to his cries. If there is this huge void in my heart, I cannot imagine how big of a loss this is to him. So, I carry him, cradle him and tell him it’s okay. In between my tears, I manage.

At one point after drinking his milk, he got tired, rolled onto his tummy and stared into space. He eventually fell asleep on his own.

I slip away from him, did what I could and finally, I too went to bed. We both went to bed berselimutkan the last kain pelikat my husband wore that day.

I know that crying won’t change things, it won’t stop him from going and it most definitely won’t stop the whole programme. Life must go on. So, I must get a grip, and move on too.

But for now, I’m going to give myself some time. Nobody said it was easy.

So let the tears begin.

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