Press 9

No one can help it if we grow any older. But I wonder if we can help growing up. I don’t think anyone intentionally sheds off the kid in them, but we eventually do. As we grow older, we stop being the innocent wide-eyed girl we once were. We think that fairytales are silly because we come to the realisation that no matter how much we will it, there can never be a perfect life for anyone. We try so much to please others, we forget what we liked about ourselves the most. We are surrounded by negativity even in times when we try to attract positivity, so much so that we have no choice but to give up. Then, we no longer know what it is that we should do; both to make ourselves happy and to make others happy as well.

And in the end, we are lost. So lost that we can no longer find happiness in the smallest things which used to make us happy.

In times like those, I always press 9. Because pressing 9 means that I finally admit to the fact that I need some assistance out of the 4 corners of my space.

And I’m glad that when I press 9, I’ve got more numbers than I thought I could rely on, to rely on.

And for that, I am eternally grateful. Because I know that no matter how much the walls close in on me, there’s always more people out there willing remind me that no matter how old we get, we are growing old together. So, we’re not alone in it.

Because believe it or not, the 4 corners which you trust your life with, will never keep you safe for long.

So, in times of dire need, press 9. I’ll be there for you.

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Moves like Jagger

I’ve been feeling “quickenings” since a couple of weeks back already. Before I got married and pregnant, I always wondered how mothers knew which part of their baby was moving and if it was all really their imaginations. I mean, seriously! How can you know if you baby is kicking or butting or tugging or scratching? You can’t even see the baby, right?

So since I got pregnant, I tried not to be too enthusiastic. So long as it has a strong heartbeat (which it DOES, Alhamdulilllah!) I didn’t want to be “imagining” my baby moving. But eventually, I realised that it became increasingly difficult to ignore the bubbles in my lower tummy. Especially after my Zuhur prayers when I am having a rare moment of “no-rush”, when I’m sitting in the dark with my hands rested beneath my shirt, on my belly.

It’s in those times when I could actually, actually feel it without imagining it! It’s when s/he feels constricted that s/he moves the most. Like after a heavy meal or when I am bent over my files or when I am sitting there with my perut berlipat-lipat that I can actually feel something or rather someone... rebelling! Kecik-kecik dah pandai demand space! Ahahaha. =.="

It’s not much of a kick, punch or anything of that sort. It feels more like someone is... farting inside of me, hence the name Bubbles. Takkan aku nak panggil anak aku Kentut pulak kan. Seriously kelakar okay! Ahaha.

This baby is mostly active at night, just about after dinner and before I go to bed. S/he won’t let me sleep soundly without me reciting Al-Quran or without me playing a few Surah on the laptop all night long. I can already foresee sleepless nights and a very demanding baby but I’m still excited nonetheless! Heehee. =.="

Eh wait, where was I? Oh, yes, Jagger. We were in the car one night after dinner listening to Moves like Jagger on the radio when I felt something pinching from beneath my belly. And it went on and on and on until the song finished, I just had to ask the Baby, “Hello, sayang, what you up to in there? Suka lagu Jagger ye?” Ahahaha.

So far, we’ve tried to play the song again, but s/he doesn’t react during the day. S/he only starts reacting after lunch time.

I’ve been told during the last check-up that I need to start monitoring the Baby’s movements starting on the 18th week. My 17 weeks are coming to an end and the Paranoid Me has been asking myself what I should do/feel if I can’t feel any “real” movements like a kick or punch or anything? Should I run to the hospital ASAP? Should I panic? Should I? Should I?

Hmm. But on my outing with 3 other mummy-to-be’s yesterday, they all told me not to worry. The Baby will move for real, right on cue, so I was told. And suddenly, your belly will have a life of its own and it’s going to be hilarious then!

We’ll see next week (sebenarnya dah tak sabar HAHA!).

On that note, I leave you with some recent photos of mine. I’m only beginning to like taking photos again after realizing I don’t look all too bad at all ;)

Ye, perut saya comel je for 17 weeks. It runs in the family ;)

Until the next time! Ta!

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a private realm.

A few months back, I created a Twitter account. For one because I was missing out on so much, since most of my close friends tweet. I don’t really believe in 140 words or less because I’ve always been a rambler and a long one at it. But I’ve got to admit that Twitter in many ways has made me happier, as it is an “outlet” for me to express whatever I think or feel without having to broadcast my thoughts to 600 “friends”, half of which I haven’t met in years, I think.

So, yes, with Twitter, I feel liberated.

And despite my plea to everyone to blog responsibly and to mind our language when writing an entry, my stance on tweeting is quite the opposite. Not so much because I swear in my tweets, I still do watch what I say, but more because in Twitter, you can really limit those you want to be followed by and who you want to follow.


If you feel like you don’t like someone on your timeline, you can simply unfollow. If you want a limited range of people to know your deepest, darkest (or happiest) thoughts, you let them follow you. It really is that simple because Twitter, unlike FB, is not the place for you to keep in touch, etc. Not entirely anyways. For me at least, it is a collection of your thoughts, be it good or bad. And for me, it’s the people who matter enough who get to see both sides of me.

Having said that, I do think that everyone should be entitled to tweet about whatever they want without so much of “policing” or negative comments about the things they say or do. Or in this case, tweet. If someone is into make-up and fashion, let them be. If someone is into movies, let them be. If someone is into the habit of checking in wherever they land their butt, let them be. If someone likes to tweet about their life, work and their pregnancy and their cravings, then really, let them be.

And if you don’t like the way someone tweets, click the “unfollow” button and be relieved of all ill feelings. Because really, why should we only write about the things that others want to read about in a private realm in which the power to choose is in our hands. Because in Twitter, it really is your choice. Whether to follow and not to follow. That is the question.

As I said, it really is that simple. Thank you.

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Too much info

These days, there is nothing which cannot be Googled. Even our own name. Try it. Not that it’s a bad thing entirely, but... well, sometimes, I think that people didn’t coin the phrase “ignorance is bliss” for no reason.

As “lawyers by profession”, it’s natural to be curious about most things. It really is. It’s when you’re not inquisitive enough that gets you into trouble because it shows how few factors you take into account to analyse a particular matter.

But too much “curiosity”? It doesn’t only kill the cat, it also qualifies one to be a “busybody”. And I cannot stand “busybodies” especially when they have no business to be so curious about something to begin with. And especially so when they really don’t know how to do so with class.

Time and time again, each time we get a new addition to our “so-called Adv family”, as in really new and fresh from the oven kind of new, when they come by for their courtesy calls and ask me for tips to survive in the Department, I tell them the first rule of thumb; WE ARE HERE TO WORK, SO WORK.

Everything else is secondary. Whether or not your boss is strict or funny or clever or any other adjective you can possibly think of is besides the point. First and foremost, to gain trust, you must be (1) hardworking (2) smart (3)tactful (4) discreet.

And most people think (as I did initially) that being smart comes first. What people forget is that despite this being a free country and everything, humility is key. It doesn’t matter if you have a CGPA of more than 3.5, you don’t know a thing about working life and the politics that come with it. No matter how much you hate the politics or dodge it, it’s something you cannot avoid entirely. So, work. Just work. After all, isn’t that why we all got out of bed for in the first place?

I find that the “new generation” come into the working place with preconceived thoughts and impressions about the people in it. About the work of place I can fathom because you must know why you chose a particular organisation, but people in the organisation whom you hardly know let alone ever met?

It’s okay if you know what to do with such knowledge, but to come in and judge even without knowing that person first? And to spend hours on end talking about other people? To me that’s just plain wrong. You’re here to work. If you’re lucky, you get to make friends and those friendships last a lifetime. What I can tell is that no one comes in to work to make enemies. So, what’s up with the non-stop gossiping about people at work, with people at the same working place? Especially about people who you clearly don’t have any real idea about?

Don’t you have any work to do?

And don’t you have an inkling of an idea of how dangerous it is to talk about people at work with people at work? Especially those you have just met at work? Eventually, your identity will leak and people will know what kind of a person you are. And there goes the trust. Whatever else you do won’t matter then, because people will know you’re such a blabber mouth, there’s no way in hell you’re going to get to do anything confidential or important enough to put you on a different pedestal than others.

Maybe it’s just in my nature to gossip “selectively”. Maybe it’s just in my nature to work my butt off each time I get an assignment. I have had my moments of being at the bottom of the wheel and that’s normal. But I work, because that’s why I come in every morning. As far as I am concerned, I have not made any enemies. And so, to me, if anyone wants to prejudge me without even knowing me, they don’t deserve my help, knowledge or guidance.

They can pretty much drive themselves down a ravine and I won’t give a damn.

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Nasi Lemak 2.3

You know what? It gets really weird sometimes, the things that pregnancy does to you. And trust me, it’s not something you make up or pretend. It’s pretty genuine. And to be very honest, I was surprised too. I had no idea I would be affected. I thought I would get away unscathed. Untouched. Unaffected. Especially by food cravings.

But oh, I was affected, alright. These days, I still am.

Like how I craved for tossai this morning. Like how much more random can I get?

Luckily for me, my cravings are not the type which “I-Must-Have-Or-I-Swear-I-Will-Die” kinds. No, no, no, no, no. Probably because I tell myself that it’s just my raging hormones and that I don’t really need what I think I need. I use “mind over matter” where I can help it else I’d go crazy!

But if there is one thing I’ve been needing and wanting these past 15 weeks, it would be Nasi Lemak.

Oh, yes. Yummy, yummy Nasi Lemak.

Despite my constant bouts of vomiting (which are beginning to subside, yey, hopefully for good!), my appetite hasn’t really been hampered that much. I still eat as normally as I possibly can, in fact, I’ve been eating a lil’ bit more. And by a lil’ bit more, I mean I’ve been adding a good dose of breakfast which I have been missing since like forever. So, instead of crackers, I’ve been eating Nasi Lemak because Nasi Lemak rocks my socks! Plus, I’ve been munching almonds and fruits (which are supposedly low cal!) in between meals.

Having inherited my father’s and late grandfather’s good genes of not easily gaining weight, I thought I was going to get away with it. I thought I wouldn’t “grow”. Plus, with people telling me how wonderfully healthy I look right now, I thought, WOW, I’m all good.

As a result, I gained a whopping 2.3 kg when I weighed in during the last check up.

*feels like crying and killing myself now*

For someone who hadn’t gained weight in the longest time, that was a reality check for me. I could gain weight, apparently. And people can stop telling me it’s the baby because si comel hanya 100 gram ye kawan-kawan.

And since such weight gain is not commended (I’m only supposed to gain 0.5 kg per month, and I don’t know if that’s’ been possible for anyone), I’ve got to go for follow ups much sooner than I anticipated. I was so determined to not gain that much anymore, I ditched my Nasi Lemak for boring plain old bread with nothing on top.

Yesterday, for another check-up unrelated to antenatal, I lost some weight! Not much, just about 0.6 kg, but still! It made me really happy!

So, guess what I ate this morning?

Not surprising, NASI LEMAK, of course!

Hopefully,

• this Nasi Lemak craving will not last for the next 5 months; or
• I would be able to curb my crazy Nasi Lemak craving; or
• I would develop a healthier craving; or
• by some struck of good luck, I would not regain the 0.6kg I lost + another 2.3kg when I weigh in next time (I WISH!)

Wish me luck with my Nasi Lemak issue! I really need to get over it and FAST!

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Honeymoon

Since we both do not earn in the millions or even many thousands, we both sort of “broke our bank” to go for our honeymoon. Okay, fine, I’m exaggerating. We didn’t break our bank but we saved a whole lot just so we got to go on a holiday together. I remember that about 4 weeks leading to the trip, we stared at our Shin Chan “piggy bank” with longing every single day.

To be very honest, out of all the things which have happened in the span of the past 10 months or so, my favourite is my honeymoon. Call me cheesy or whatever, but I really enjoyed myself during the 6-day trip.

I know that it’s selfish to simply tell everybody that they MUST go on their honeymoon, but really, please go. If you must know, we never really planned on Perth at all to begin with and I was ready to settle for Sabah because my Sabahan friend kept telling me how beautiful the islands are. Of course, she could be biased but I knew that her recommendations rang truth. In fact, if it wasn’t Sabah, it would have been Pangkor or Penang.

But after comparing airfares and hotel prices, we decided we’d try Sabah some other time. This was our first trip together and if we were going to spend that much, we’d better make it super worth it and make the trip last a lil’ while longer.

I can say with conviction that it was worth it.

Because if I could repeat one thing, I would repeat my honeymoon again and again and again.

This morning, when my husband called, I told him I was looking at our honeymoon photos. He then asked me,
“Oh, tengok gambar masa tengah comel lagi?”

To which, I of course jumped to my own defence,
“SO SEKARANG I TAK COMEL LAH?”

“Sekarang you hot.”

Hmmph. Bodek. Hee.

Nak bodek lagi jum pergi Babymoon, jum? Pretty please? Heee.

Someday, I’m so going back to Perth. InsyaAllah with the lil’ one of course ;)

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Let it Burn

Phew.

It has been a long, long time. I have wanted to write about so many things but they always stop short at the title.

But right now, I just feel like letting things off my chest.

I feel tired. Really tired. And what else about if not about work. I’ve come to that point again. That point where I am burnt to my core, where motivation is close to none and my sense of urgency is pretty much down the drain. Because everything has become so urgent, urgent seems like such a funny word to me. Really, it is. Sometimes, when people tell me something is urgent, it sends me into shackles of laughter because I don’t think anyone around here knows what urgent is anymore.

Sigh.

People tell me I should be thankful. What with this beautiful building I come to work at everyday. What with my own room and furniture and everything. And I am thankful. But that doesn’t make me any less burnt out you see. This “burnt-out-ness” is really making me count days to my weekends because that is all I look forward to.

I most definitely am not looking for another job, at least not for now.

All I need is a break. No. Actually, all I need is a week without anything other than my existing work to come in so that I can settle my existing work and then, people can start piling new things on my table because I love to work so much.

I am scared looking at my “In” tray and sometimes, I wish that I could just bury them all away and jetset somewhere beautiful.

Until that daydream comes to life, I shall continue to follow my own pace because if I go at the pace that everyone else is going, I may not be able to catch my breath. As it is, I already am short of it.

So, I’ll just let it burn. Even if it may be to my detriment. Just this time.

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Alah bisa, tegal biasa.

If there is one word which could precisely depict this phase in my life, it would be erratic. Seriously, seriously erratic. One moment I am absolutely okay, the next, I’m not. And when I’m not, I really am not.

I’ve sought advice from my mommy friends and they told me to not think too much about it. It’s just a phase and it will pass and the next thing I know, I would already be delivering and that I would want to be pregnant all over again. So far, a lot of people tell me it’s an experience they would like to repeat.

And so, I tried. I tried to go about my life as per normal. As per before I actually found out that I was expecting.

But I’ve got to say that nausea is no laughing matter. And vomiting takes at least 2 days to recover from. So, though I try to keep my head up, think all positive thoughts and images of my unborn child, whom, despite everything, I have fallen deeply in love with, it eventually gets to my head.

I suddenly realise how tiring this early phase really is. Not so much because of the experience but more of because how out of control I am over everything.

I can’t help falling asleep at random times (and places). You don’t want to know how many times I have hid under my table at work and fell asleep because I just couldn’t stand looking at the computer, even, let alone staring at it to get my work done.

I don't even know why I'm so exhausted to begin with. Am I not the Energizer Bunny? *sigh*

I also can’t help that I’m expanding (though finally at places I was once challenged) and feeling absolutely ugly with my new hairdo and figure and all.

There are many things I would like to eat, but there is very little that I can stand cooking without throwing up. And so, we’re really bingeing on take-outs these days. My favourites are pizza and fries.

Oh, and you know what? I can’t even smell my husband’s perfume and I’m the one who bought that perfume for him! How bizarre is that?

The thing that I can’t stand most about myself is that I am currently a 24/7 Burp Machine and also Champion of Fart Fest. Those things don’t exist, but let’s hold a competition amongst pregnant women now, shall we? It’s possible that I’ll pass as Top 3.

When all these things are meshed into this little head of mine and my body feels like it’s alien to me, that’s when I break down. Like how I did this week. Like how I cried and moaned and asked every single day of the week when this will end or if it does actually get better like people say it will.

Despite my cravings to buy new clothes and wanting to blowdry my hair in the morning so that I look nice, I really don’t think I look nice at all, causing me all this unnecessary heartache and paranoia. And when people tell me I look lovely, I think they’re only being kind because I look huge? Psycho much? Uhuh, very, right?

I know things insyaAllah will eventually get better. And I believe it when they say that you’ll miss being pregnant and that you’d want more that one kid because it is an experience so good, it’s got to be repeated. My Mama is living proof. She had it worst than me but she still had 3 kids. So, yeah, I know that this phase will pass.

And for fear of sounding ungrateful and bratty, I did not update on these everyday “nuisances” every single day because I know that they are part of parcel of this process which many would kill to experience. Vomit or no vomit.

I’m approaching the end of my first trimester in about 2 weeks. I hope that I will be blessed with a “textbook” pregnancy where it will all “go away” at the end of 14 weeks. If not, I know that at least my next scan would be able to lighten my spirits up because they tell me that the baby will REALLY GROW from the 10th-14th week.

If it all won’t “go away”, I’ll just have to eventually tell myself that “alah bisa, tegal biasa”.

Maka, bersyukurlah that someone chose me to be his/her parent :)

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it's a small world after all.

If there is one thing that I can say with conviction, it would be that I had an awesome, awesome upbringing. Really. Despite hating the house rules once upon a time ago and wondering why everything had to be the way they are, I really am glad that I turned out the way I did because of those “so-called ridiculous” rules.

I think we were always taught to be kind. To not be prejudiced. To be friends with everyone. But of course, with certain limits. Since we all grew up in boarding schools, we also learnt that if someone “stepped on your foot” on purpose, you’re allowed to “step back” on theirs. Just so they know who they are messing with. But if there is anything “cruel” we were ever taught, that was just about it. In my eyes, I like to see it as “survival of the fetus” instead.

And so, we all grew up being friends with most people. I think I can also say with conviction that I have the kindest siblings anyone can ever ask for. And some of the most unprejudiced ones too. Always, always think of where people are coming from. No right or wrong, just different.

Which is why I am sometimes baffled at how snobbish and prejudiced and picky some people can get sometimes. Really. As if smiling will flex their face muscles until they’re ruined. Or saying “Hi” first at a random place will burst their ego or reputation. You know, things like that.

I’ve learnt more often than I care to remember that life is a cycle. When I say it is, I know it is. It’s not just a saying. And I also know that when people tell you to be nice to one another, it’s because you don’t know where you’ll be in say... 5 years time from now. It really doesn’t take that long. And you don’t know when you might need another person’s favour and so, you better not be mean because that person could be the person whose life you made miserable.

To prove my point, I have seniors in school who are now my juniors in Service. Thank God I don’t hold grudges. I grew up with them and there are so many stories I could tell if I wanted, but I won’t.

You really wouldn’t know what’s going to happen. So, say “Hi”. If that’s so difficult to do, just smile. It really is that simple. And it really is a small world after all.

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Trust no one.

Recently, a scandal took storm in my office. And no, it’s not the “conservative” kind of scandal where boy meets girl, I just chose to use the term “scandal” loosely, for lack of better word.

I am not a fan of scandals. Really. To that end, I don’t contribute to creating one, nor do I “add salt to the open wound” where one takes place.

Because to me, a scandal is a scandal; it has taken place and there’s nothing that anyone can say or do to undo it. Plus, we’re all grown people, capable of making our own decisions. And to me, the decision made in that particular scandal was personal. It is a matter of choice and preference, which has nothing to do with me.

Only, I have to say that I’m not particularly impressed with the way the decision was made. Because from something which had nothing to do with me, it ended up having everything to do with me due to the circumstances.

If there is one thing I cannot tolerate, it would be irresponsibility and whatever took place recently spells irresponsibility all over. And such irresponsibility resulted in hardship onto others which others most definitely do not need.

Besides that, there’s a myriad of theories being passed around, some involving people around me and it affects me somehow because people talk.

What’s worst, some very irresponsible people have managed to “keep the fire ablaze” somehow, by not letting this thing pass. And when some quarters refuse to let things pass, this matter will never hear its end and we all live in fear that everything we say and do will somehow or rather, in some way, at some point in time, be used against us, by people we least expect. Even when we don’t deserve that kind of publicity.

In the end, the best bet is to trust no one. Which most definitely does not guarantee a thing. But the best thing. At least for now.

May this scandal pass. And quickly. I'm tired and I can't wait to move on.

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Altered.

I have become an altered person. Increasingly, I find that there are many things I love which I don’t anymore and there are many undiscovered wonders, which I have found joy in. Like a pack of Ligo Raisins for example.

Besides being totally and completely altered, I have also become preoccupied. Totally and completely. Preoccupied and in fact committed with making myself feel better for the benefit of all.

You see, life normally takes you through this “course of nature”, where one thing takes place after the other. And naturally, with marriage, people next expect “comes the baby carriage”.

And 8 months, 3 HPTs and 2 doctor visits later, I was confirmed pregnant.

It’s been a while since I knew. In fact, it’s been a while since everyone around me sort of... “knew”. It got to a point where they wanted to get me tested because I have never been that sick ever. It got to a point where everyone just let me sleep on a working day, sometimes past 3 p.m. on a Friday because I looked so weak. Everyone “knew”. Especially those who are mothers.

I was the only one who was too cowardly to test. For fear that the line does not turn blue like I want it to.

But after so many queries, even from friends who simply guessed by reading my blog posts and tweets, I thought, “It could be my turn. This could be my time.”

It’s funny how instincts work sometimes. Some time end of July just before Ramadan, I told my husband about the non-existent HPTs in our house. I told him that it seems like every married couple kept at least ONE in their medicine cabinet and all we had in ours was pills and vicks vaporub and the likes. So, he obliged and bought me the twin packed Clearblue.

When my worst reached its peak, I decided to pee on the stick. Because mind you, I really have never been that weak. Or that sick. In fact, I have never been that sleepy. So, if it wasn’t pregnancy, I knew that I had to get some medical attention. And fast.

And in about 3 seconds, the line turned blue. A clear, clear blue, just as the name suggests. Of course, I had doubts. Fears, even, that the HPT was faulty. So, I read up on the Clearblue website and it confirmed that without the existence of HCG in my urine, the test would have turned out negative. So, a week later, I tested some more. And on the day I went to see the doctor, I tested with Clearblue Digital. Just to be sure.

You may wonder why I was so doubtful.

I mean, for most women, them missing a period is indication enough, right? Thing is, just before Ramadan, my “period” did come. Only when I scanned my tummy at the clinic did I know that my baby already has a heartbeat! So, turns out that my “period” was mere spotting (which I kind of guessed but didn’t want to get my hopes too high at that point). Thus, this previous post.

And so, there goes. We are both ecstatic about this! You can’t even start to imagine how ecstatic my parents and siblings and in-laws are too. Of course, I’m a bit scared, but having this little friend growing inside me, whom I can talk to everyday whenever I want because s/he is always there overrides whatever fears that I have. In fact, I can’t wait for the next scan because I can’t wait to see how much s/he has grown!

I already know how much I love you, even before I met you. And I so can’t wait to plant sloppy kisses on your cheeks come April.

Alhamdulillah for the heartbeat. And for my growing belly, with my little growing friend inside of it.

:')

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