the thing i miss

... about this month no longer being the month of Ramadan, is this; early mornings like this.

I don't know how I did it but I woke up every single day at 4.45 a.m. (with the exception of a couple of "extra tired" days) to prepare sahur and from then on my day would begin. I normally survived on Neslo and Hup Seng cream crackers alone throughout the day and by Allah's will I didn't feel famished or overly tired. Sometimes, I would take a nap (or doze off) during office hours, but seeing how much we worked throughout lunch, that was hardly the case. 

Then, I would go back home and start preparing food for buka puasa (break fast). Come to think of it, it was extremely tiring to go on and on and on non-stop from 4.45 a.m. 'til at least 10 p.m. every day, but believe you me, there was something extremely therapeutic about cooking (even the simplest dishes, as was the case every day actually) and seeing your loved one gobble up the grub you prepared with so much gusto and getting the endless thanks at the end of it all. 

I truly enjoyed Ramadan this year.

I feel like we've grown so much from the kiddish couple we once were when we got married 2 years ago, where we (well more like I) wasn't really organised, simply didn't know how to handle having to prepare 2 meals and really didn't have the kudrat (will) to just do it. This year, I enjoyed cooking and thinking of menus so much that I was really dumbstruck as to what I should buy (or what I really wanted) when we decided to go to the pasar malam to get our food. 

Like seriously, asyik teringat the food I was supposed to be cooking and how yummy it would be to eat nasi panas dengan ayam goreng kunyit and bawang (ended up cooking that for sahur sebab teringat-ingat and walaupun tak makan tapi puas hati bila husband makan bertambah). 

I know macam mak-mak sangat kan selepas jadi mak orang ni, but seriously. After the baby came, it's like I enjoyed being home bound (though I won't lie - I do occasionally I crave a mall outing!), but still. Bila orang ajak berbuka outside, the only way I know I would enjoy it is if it were at my place or somebody else's home. I just enjoy being home. I think it's safe to say hello to the New Boring Old Hanisa, ey?

But never mind that... as I believe that that's a healthy sign of maturity. 

And here's to hoping that next Ramadan would be better.

( I know it's already 6th day of Syawal and stories of Ramadan are getting old but it's okay ;) )

is it really that simple?

Packing Day 2.

I've been at it for 2 days now, and yes, I am still not done.

It's a lot of work and I just noticed how much... trash (for want of better word) I've been collecting all these years. Well, okay, to my defence, I did keep float files of my own for ease of reference, but some of them I haven't seen for ages! I was just afraid to chuck them out earlier because funny thing is that those matters seem to crop up the moment I get rid of them. Hmmm. Excuses Mexcuses. I vow not to do the same at my new place (for now). Hihi.

Apart from hard copies of past opinions and documents, I have also been working on cleaning up my hard drive. And with that comes ALOT of deletions. Documents, music, pictures. I didn't realise how much I used to take photos and how often I used to upload them at the office. Nampak sangat banyak kerja sekarang. Eh? Ke dulu tak banyak sangat kerja? Mungkin yang kedua agaknya. Hahaha.

When I was deleting file after file after file, I came to realise how easy it was to delete what I had built for myself for the past 5 years. While it took me so long to lovingly place each and every one of my documents into separate "homes" (read:folders) (and yes, I'm obsessed with "foldering" everything), deleting them cost me less than 5 seconds per folder. It really was that simple!

It's no wonder sometimes, how easily people eliminate and be done with some things in their life and then move on like nothing ever happened. I'm not saying that I'm so ridiculously attached to this place that I find throwing out and deleting certain things silly, it's nothing like that, no. In fact, it's the complete opposite because I'm feeling so light and free at the prospect of a new challenge coming my way.

What I'm trying to say is that when we put our mind to something, we can do and will do everything within our power to achieve our goal, no matter how daunting, silly or extreme the thought of it used to be.

All that's left is for us to do is to find the right thing to put our minds to. Then maybe, it really isn't that simple after all.

my days are numbered.

Every time I meet someone I've known since the first day I started working, more often than not, I'll be asked the same question, "Still there?" or "Same Unit?".

 

And the answer to that is always, "Yes."

 

Not really sure if it's a good or a bad thing that I've been at the same Division for the past 5 years and the same Unit for the past 4 years or so… but lately I've been doing some serious thinking.

 

I came to the conclusion that I'm in dire need of change.

 

Not that there's anything wrong where I'm working, or that I hate the subject matter or that there are clashes in personality (well, there are some clashes, but that should hardly come as a surprise, we are all different anyhows) or that I'm so miserable, so much so that I can die of misery… but every now and then, we just need a breath of fresh air.

 

Yes, change to me had become a necessity rather than a want.

 

Then, I got my promotion (Alhamdulillah after 5 long years of so much hard work you have no idea) and it was then that I was told that change would come. Only it didn't.

 

How did that make me feel? A lil' amused, confused and honestly, a tad bit relieved as well… because as much as I was craving for some change, change did at the very least scare me.

 

So work went on as usual. I stopped packing my stuff after 2 other Transfer Orders came out without my name on it and I resigned to the fact that maybe, just maybe, this isn't my time yet.

 

Fast forward 2 weeks later.

 

A TO came out with… wait for it… my name (FINALLY) on it.

 

After 5 very long years, I will finally be leaving this place, this floor, this workstation of mine with 5-year worth of documents lying around every nook and cranny of it.

 

It's been a bittersweet journey, this - and I plan to make the last few days here as memorable and as enjoyable as possible. Plus, after 5 years, you can only start to imagine the amount of things I have to pack and throw and shred and file and upload so that I can go with clean hands, so to speak, without leaving behind unnecessary burdens to those who remain (yes, someone unabashedly left her things with me and I don't know what to do with them as they've never been reclaimed until now).

 

Which is why… I'm trying my best to just keep my calm and cool, even though something absurd is happening right now (I totally cannot brain it), with there being only 3 working days left for me here.

 

Here's to hoping that my numbered days will be happy ones.

 

Le sigh…

some things are just meant to be made.

Two missed calls.

That's what I came back to when I got back to my boss' room after doing some research at my workstation.

I thought it was my husband but hey, hey, it wasn't.

It was Fai, one of the oldest friends I've had. And probably one of the best ones I've had too.

As he was just leaving my office compound, I told him to turn the car around; and that I'd meet him at the lobby.

When he arrived, I asked him whether or not he had met Dinie, also one of our good friends. He told me that he was about to surprise Dinie at her office when I returned his call.

Turns out that he was the one who was the most surprised because he didn't know that Dinie now works at the same building as I am.

The hour after that ensued where we convened in Dinie's room was probably one of the best catch-up sessions that we've had in the longest time.

Some days are just meant to be made and some friendships are meant to stand the test of time, distance and lack of communication.

This is probably one of those days and hopefully, this is one of those special one-of-a-kind friendships.

Sometimes, it's not the quantity that matters, but rather, the quality. And it all happened because we all cared enough to just care.

:)

pejam celik

... and it is now 12 days into Ramadan already! Time flies so fast these days, whether or not you're having fun, does it not?

And now that it's Ramadan, I'm sure there's really nothing to NOT love about it and with that, I've noticed that time flies even faster!

Alhamdulillah, we've been given a chance to experience Ramadan again. And like previous years, I've tried my best to make Ramadan markedly different (in a good way of course) from the last. Although this year's "change" cannot beat last Ramadan's, I believe that the "change" does not necessarily have to be major for it to be significant. And with that I do feel like I have, in some way, in sha Allah driven my family into a direction which I very much hope will be blessed.

This is a good time, this month of Ramadan, it really is. It's so good I almost tear at the thought of it leaving us soon.

Now that 12 days have passed, I really hope to be able to make good of the remaining 18.

I'm sure you'll do the same too.

In sha Allah.

buttercream.

It's been eons since I baked anything. My mug cakes obviously don't count. At least to me they don't.

And since baking has become such a luxury (because that means I get to spend some me-time rekindling my relationship with my old time love), I've always wanted to save it for a special occasion.  

Since I woke up really early that Saturday morning when we convened at Da's house, I got right to work in the kitchen.

I got all my ingredients out of the fridge to bring them to room temperature and while waiting, I managed to get loads of ironing done.

By the time I was done, my ingredients were more or less ready. So, I got to beating my butter... all 300 grams of butter... by hand with a whisk!

And that's when I realised how crazy I was to think that I could beat the butter without a mixer.

Yes, not even a hand mixer!

After a while, realising that it was an impossible feat, I "improvised" by melting the butter (all the time with fingers crossed!) hoping that everything would turn out well eventually.

Managed to mix everything well, and then I put my cake batter in the oven to bake.

Since I was in the midst of rekindling my relationship with my long lost love, I figured that this was obviously the right time to try out a new buttercream recipe... which if you're used to baking, you'd know how crazy of an idea it is if you're without a mixer.

I knew the idea was crazy but hey, what's 2 sticks of butter compared to the 300 grams I initially attempted? I could surely beat 2 sticks without fail right? And right I was!

I googled for some tips for the perfect buttercream and got to work.

Basically, I woke up every single muscle in my hand and got them to work (hard!).

And you know what? The end result made it all worth it.

So glad that my buttercream was finally not too soft to hold itself and that by the time we got to our destination, it didn't look like this -

yes, this was one of my many attempts 2 years ago. such a sorry sight i know. yummy enough because everyone loved it (probably because it was for free) but yeah, it IS A SORRY SIGHT. and this was only transported from my house to my office which is just 5 minutes away. haha

A long way to go to become a bakerella, but once my boy's a bit bigger, I'll start baking loads again.

Oh, you lovely cake smell, how I've missed you.

Now, for the recipe I used:

2 sticks of butter (about 100 gm)

4 cups confectioners (icing) sugar

1 tbsp vanilla extract

2 tbsp milk

Instructions:

Leave butter to room temperature. Never put in microvawe to soften. And at room temperature, never leave it until it is too soft. Room temperature means that the consistency is that of ice cream. Not too hard that you can't beat it. But not too soft 'til it can't hold itself.

(This, I think is the most important part which I failed to learn in my previous attempts)

Beat the butter and vanilla until light and fluffy.

Beat in icing sugar bit by bit and beat well with each addition.

Add milk and keep beating til light and fluffy.

Then, frost your cake!

Happy trying!

please keep in touch.

Some time around March-April this year, I went through a really dark stretch in my life. And since most of my problems centred around the subject matter of work (what else!), talking it out with people in the organisation didn't seem to help.

After a while, talking about it at all caused me heartache and that's when I decided to Press 9.

And so, I reached out to Ayu, hoping she'd share a bit of her wisdom with me.

Which she gladfully did.

After that, the ball started rolling.

It began with an email attaching a picture from 2009 during Ryan's birthday celebration (in which we all looked so young and fresh and alive), and a few Whatsapp messages later, we convened at Da's house for "lunch".

Well, "lunch" being inverted obviously because it was really late when we finally got to eat.

Ehem to the latecomers. He he he.

***

So, what's changed?

Nothing. Like, really. N O T H I N G.

Well, unless you start to count the wrinkles and the small patch of maturity that's grown on us... (and of course the little boy in the picture he he he)

Otherwise, we're still the goofy bunch of people who like to poke fun at each other, who still haven't learnt to cook just enough for 8, but decidedly thought that we're all hungry enough to eat a feast for 20... (but still, nothing can beat the amount of leftovers during our PD getaway years ago!).

Clearly, all my fears all this while has been baseless, so to speak...

Basically, I'm happy to report that we picked up from where we left off and slid right back into the friendship like the years apart didn't ever happen.

As you would have guessed, I was over the moon because of the gathering and I'm glad that I can still call them my friends. Probably the only few real ones that I still have.

I shall forever treasure these people - the first few friends I made upon entering Service.

Optimistic as I may be, and of course hopeful that we'd meet more often, my only hope right now is for us to be able to meet at least once a year after this.

Keep in touch, please do keep in touch.

Much ♥

"efficient"

It's been relatively quiet on my blog because life has mostly been about work lately. And to be honest, it's okay. My principle is that you go to work to work, so when there's work, work! It really is that simple.

But if there's anything I don't like about work are those free riders. In fact, that's one of the major things that pisses the living daylights out of me. A lot.

I'd like to think that I'm a team player although I actually enjoy dealing with my own files on my own. But realistically speaking, there are times when you just have to work with others, which I do. And most of the time, I tolerate idiosyncrocies because let's face it; I ain't perfect. 

What I cant' tolerate though, is when those idiosyncracies are at the expense of others. Like when one person is so "efficient", almost bordering on incompetent, that the other people on the team have no other choice but to take on his/her burden. Best of all is that the "efficient" person is maintained on the team and takes on just as much credit at the rest of the more "burdened" ones.

Now that's just not cool. Not cool at all.

People may say that that's one of the hazards of working in a team and I agree. But what I don't agree with is the part where we tolerate so much that we are deemed as condoning such bad, bad, bad behaviour resulting with unnecessary heartache and dissatisfaction.

At the end of the day, the more "burderned" ones will wonder whether it's really worth being too competent when it is, in actual fact, alot easier to just be the "efficient" one.

It's such a vicious, demotivating cycle. YES. IT. IS. Even for the best team players.

And because of this vicious cycle, I've concluded that one of the two compulsory meetings I'll have to attend every week, throughout the year will probably be some of the most stressful moments of my life.

I simply hate "efficient" people.

I just like them when they're eff. And no, that's not a bad word, thank you very much.

Please God spare me the heartache.

same amount (of hours), different impact.

I was just about to write tomorrow (today?) about how some people can get the same amount of sleep in a day, yet feel different impacts, depending on what time they actually sleep.

Yesterday, I was so bummed out that I actually fell into a really deep sleep while nursing Luqman (which is really early) and that resulted with me waking up really early too. Even though I had to remain awake for the whole day at work, I didn’t feel tired. Well, at least not as tired as if I slept later and woke up later also.

Do you get what I’m trying to say? Say if I sleep at 10.30 and wake up at 5 a.m., I’d feel fine but if I slept at 12.00 but woke up at 6.30 a.m., I’d feel like crap the whole day. Get it, get it? Don’t know why I’m being over descriptive, but yeah, I’ll be really happy if you understood this well.

Well, anyways. When my husband was away, the whole “sleep early-wake up early” routine was actually a routine born out of necessity. Since he came back, I’ve been sleeping a whole lot later, obviously, (ahem) and also waking up a lot later but this recent incident where I felt really happy throughout the day though I had been up since 5 a.m. incident really just proves how much of a morning person I am.

Or am I?

I think I’ve always been a morning person, even during my high school days. When I was a third former, which is 13 years ago (ohmygod!), I remember being the only one at the study room in the wee hours of the morning, revising, studying, doing homework, etc.. Not that the rest of the girls were any less hardworking, of course, but what I’m trying to say is that while they all burned the midnight oil, staying up late really didn’t work for me so I woke up earlier instead.

So, yes, I guess I always have been a morning person.

Which is why the very fact that I am still up at this hour is a mystery, even to me though I’ve tried all kinds of things to no avail. For one, I could be hungry but I’ve already made myself a huge “mug” (more like tall glass, actually) of hot cocoa hoping that it’ll appease my hunger pangs. But the hot cocoa seems to make me more awake than asleep at the moment I'm afraid. I’m definitely not stressed out. I don’t have any more chores to do (well, unless I decide to mop the floor this very night and spring clean our kitchen). At the end of it all, I really don’t know what all this "I can’t sleep" is all about.

I just really hope I won’t wake up grumpy.

Grrr. I seriously, seriously really want to sleep. Sigh.

Lelaki luar biasa?

To me there is a mile of difference between lelaki luar biasa and a suami luar biasa.

My husband wasn’t a lelaki luar biasa. I dare say that because he wasn’t the romantic type. Generous, maybe. Compassionate, most definitely. Likeable to everyone. But never quite romantic.

But as far as being a husband is concerned, I do honestly think that he is a suami luar biasa. And I’m not saying this just because he’s an avid reader of my blog (probably my only real fan!) but because it’s the truth and nothing but the truth (over sangat I know!).

My husband is the type who helps around. Alot. Which is the reason why I don’t feel the pressing need to hire a maid, save for a temp who could help around with major cleaning once in a while. But for the most part of our married life so far, he plays his role as a husband really well, and doesn’t expect me to play the role of the doting traditional wife with me also working and everything.

As the cherry on top, he’s very supportive of my breastfeeding efforts and he’s really great with children and even better with our own kid.

Not only that, he is still the kind, compassionate man I married and still as generous as ever. If he had to spend every last penny on his back to make me the happiest woman on earth, he would.

So, last weekend, he woke us all up really early on Saturday morning, insisting that we had to get out of the house by 8.30. I mean, come on please. So early on Saturday morning? And he wouldn't tell where we were going! Much as I loved spontaneous outings, I know I wouldn’t enjoy it enough if I wasn’t at least a tad bit prepared (i.e. if spontaneous meant we were going to the beach or something).

I was about to make a thousand excuses but decided not to when I saw how serious he was.

After packing Luqman’s food and EBM (because my husband INSISTED that I take a break from direct feeding and should just enjoy the day without having to worry about being a “tap” and that it was inappropriate for me to breastfeed where were going) and asking a thousand times whether I was dressed appropriately enough for wherever it was we were heading to (sekali pergi kenduri takkan nak pakai jeans, right?), he drove us out of the house.

He headed for LDP. And then, he turned into a junction which I know would lead to Jaja’s house. But it isn’t my birthday, nor is it my baby shower, nor am I in the know of any celebration of any kind, so I was kind of confused.

Then, after some wrong turnings, we finally came to Jalan Tiga – at Rosena SPA!

Yes, my husband drove us all out so early in the morning so that I could spend the day at the spa.

Alone. No interruptions. Just me, red roses to kick off the mood, some soothing music, a long and much needed pampering session and time to not think about anything. AT ALL.

As you would have guessed, I had the TIME OF MY LIFE!

Those 4-5 hours just lying down on the bed, getting my treatments done was just absolute bliss!

After the facial and also the whole lulur, urut, sauna and mandi bunga (yes, told you my husband is generous!), and of course the naps in between I unabashedly took while I was being pampered, I came out rejuvenated and feeling better about myself than I’ve ever felt in a long, long time.

So, yes.

My husband may not have been the knight in shining armour I was hoping for while we were dating. But he sure is my suami luar biasa. And mine and mine alone (hopefully forever).

I couldn’t ask for a better partner, a better friend, a better protector or a better husband.

And I count my blessings for that.

Bak kata Mama, “Lucky Daughter, Five Star Menantu”.

Alhamdulillah.

those 10 days in May.

There were some 10 days in May where I rediscovered the joys of motherhood under the most tragic circumstances. Why tragic? Because my boy was diagnosed with the much dreaded Hand Foot Mouth Disease (HFMD).

Plus, it was a bit crazy that we were quarantined and weren't allowed to leave the house under strict orders of the Doctor. It was tiring because my boy was clingy because he wasn't feeling well, but be that as it may, being able to stay home and watch him grow and heal right before my eyes was just priceless. Priceless, priceless, priceless.

I'll admit that I thought about quitting my job more than once in the span of those 10 days. And that coming from me, is huge.

Now, it's been three weeks since I went back to work and every now and then, I still think about leaving my job to care for my family.

But, the way I see it, what I'm doing now is also tantamount to caring for my family; just in a different way. If I don't work, I won't be able to earn. And if I don't earn, I can no longer walk into Mothercare or Toys R Us and come out bearing clothes and toys for my son. And that will kill me. Even if my husband had the money, it really wouldn't give me the same satisfaction, I am sure. So, it really is not that easy after all.

Still... there are days when I wished I could relive those 10 days, record every single moment of it. And keep it in a bottle. So that I could always revisit whenever I feel like I'm missing out too much on my motherhood.