Pandai.

 Breathe in, breathe out.

Just recently, I discovered something that perturbed me slightly. Okay, who am I kidding, I was extremely perturbed by it that I discussed the matter to great lengths with my husband.

The matter in question is – pandai kerja or pandai belajar; which is more important in the workforce?

These days, competition is tough, wherever you work. You won’t believe me if I tell you how stiff the competition is in the Public Sector, but yes. It’s tough. While the general consensus is that Public Servants work for monetary and job security only, regardless of whether they actually do a good job, there’s a sector of the Public Service which actually works their butts off because they have a sense of responsibility to the people and because they want actual job satisfaction.

That sector isn’t very big and that, by right, should make it easier to compete, but no. When there are so few good people, you’ve really got to stand out. Sometimes, it even feels like you’re being penalized for being good.

Thing is, what makes you stand out as a “seasoned worker”? Your paper qualification or your work performance?

While I concede to the fact that education is important, I’ve also found out the hard way how your paper qualifications don’t really matter that much in the workforce, especially when it comes to dealing with people at work.  Experience counts, even if I sometimes feel like age doesn’t really determine your level of wisdom, tact and sometimes, even knowledge. At the end of the day, what matters most is your attitude. At least in my opinion.

Anyhow, while I was still single, my parents did bug me about continuing my studies. Strike the rod while it’s still hot, they said – meaning that I should continue while I was still in my studying mode. Thing is, back then, I was so tired from my undergrad days that I just didn’t feel like studying. In fact, there are times when I still feel a tad bit tired and can’t quite find the drive or urge to continue studying. So, here I am, with my Second Upper Honours Degree.

And here I’m up against my own peers and my subordinates, who might have better paper qualifications than me.

I’ve already obtained some sort of recognition for the “pandai kerja” part of my life and I continue to strive for job satisfaction. I know in time it’s not going to be enough and of course, I’ve got some plans in my head about my own future.

But for now, I do think that they’ve got to make it crystal clear which is more important; pandai kerja or pandai belajar – because I really don’t want to be on the losing end when I bury my head in my pile of work to make sure I gain rezeki yang halal while others are using up the very same resources for their own personal gain.

And seriously, I really do think that my hard work should count for something. Seriously.

my occasional wish.

What I’d like to do right now is to –

Meander the isles of a mall.

Read at least 2 pages of a book.

Bake to my heart’s content.

Cook all the food I want.

Reunite with my long lost geng futsal and have a futsesh.

Take long brisk walks at the park.

Snap photos of the things that catch my eye without over thinking things.

Lug Theodore around everywhere.

Fit into nice clothes without feeling self-conscious about my figure.

Stop feeling so unhealthy.

Stop craving for all the sweet unhealthy food for a start. 

Actually write a blog post freely without fearing judgment or over exposure of my own life.

 I guess these are just some of my favourite things...

here and there.

Reported by Abu Huraira (RA): The Prophet (peace be upon him) said, “ It will be said to the people of Paradise, ‘O people of Paradise! Eternity (for you) and no death,’ and to the people of the Fire, ‘O people of the Fire, eternity (for you) and no death!”
(Bukhari)

I actually chanced upon this image on one of my friend's FB a few weeks back and since then, I have been thinking long and hard about life and death and everything surrounding the journey between here and there.

This image is by far the most visual, and really the clearest about hell and heaven that I've seen in almost 30 years of my life. Suddenly, the whole Pendidikan Islam curricular through out my education makes sense to me.

If you're seeing this for the first time and you still don't feel intrigued, then I really don't know what to say. All I know is that I was intrigued when I first saw it and I frankly, I still am. And it has made me think alot about my iman and amal.

Iman and amal, for me is a thing that fluctuates on a daily basis. Normally, when I'm tested with a calamity, my search for Allah is greater. Not that it's wrong, of course, since we are all told to find refuge in Allah, but the operative word here is greater.

It means that in times of joy and happiness or pure contentedness, while I do not forget Allah, I tend to take for granted the fact that those blessings also come from Him and that I should also similarly seek refuge, and say my thanks for such a good life. 

And that's only one chapter of my thoughts.

That's just about my remembering Allah, not yet about my actual amalan; my pahala and dosa; my shares to enable (immediate or fast tracked) entrance into Jannah. I say immediate or fast tracked because as you can see from the image above, most people eventually get to Jannah, even after a long and hard journey (if you managed to cross the bridge, of course), but if I want to immediately get there, I wonder if what I'm currently doing and practicing is enough.

If my dosa and pahala are placed next to each other, which would outweigh the other? Would I be ready to die... now?

While my fear of death is mostly centered around thoughts of my child's fate if I were dead, I do think that it's also because I don't have the answer to my own question above. I really just don't know. 

Will I be a member of Jannah? Eventually, In sha Allah.

But will I have a long and torturous life before I get there?

That would be for me to decide - and work on. Work really hard on. 

May Allah ease. And may Allah place me among the righteous.

Neraka certainly doesn't look like much fun.

A Mother's Butt.

When I was pregnant, people generally didn't realise I was pregnant until I was in my third trimester.
Turns out that I gained a whopping 16 kgs and still, people said I didn't look so pregnant.


So after I gave birth, I expected to look like... status quo. Only I didn't. Just recently though, I managed to wiggle myself into my kurung moden anak dara, after going through almost 18 months stressing over my now post-partum figure.


Itu sebenarnya sekadar mukadimah. 


On Saturday morning, circa 2.00 a.m., Luqman suddenly developed a fever. And without even taking his temperature, I knew it was high and that it was bugging him. Big time.


After a dose of Panadol Suspension, we spent the night sponging him and as daylight sneaked through our windows, it looked like he was getting better.


Only he didn't. By lunch time, his temperature spiked again. He was due for another round of Suspension but somehow, my gut told me that it wouldn't work. So I told my husband, ke Annur lah kita.


Shocking, right? For someone who normally searches for alternatives before getting help from healthcare providers, I was pretty amazed with my decision as well.


Turns out that his temperature was 38.5 and after some coaxing from the kind doctor, I agreed to suppository meds being administered on my son, as long as I wasn't the one who had to do it.


His temperature went down almost immediately. He started to sweat profusely, for which I was ever so grateful for, and we spent the whole weekend making sure he would be well again, come Monday.


3 a.m. this morning, that much dreaded high temperature was back to haunt me. You see, I'm the type who's a bit reluctant to take leave, especially on Mondays or Fridays.


Not so much because I don't have enough leave days left (in fact I have 30 days left) but simply because of the stigma most people have about working mothers using their children as an excuse to escape work and for any lack of efficiency, if any.


But this time, this time is just different. While I previously had a steel backbone (Luqman's previous babysitter) as my support system, the Taska, as I've mentioned before is just a whole new thing not just for Luqman, but for me as well.


I just didn't have the heart to leave him, especially not when he's in so much pain and so overwhelmed with all the change that's taking place in his life.


So here I am on emergency leave. Trying to figure out how to help alleviate my baby's backside problem (he screams whenever he does his business. no bukan sembelit, dia cirit). I don't remember feeling this much pain when I cut my first molar, but I guess it hurts THAT bad and all I can do is pray and hope that all the pain will go away. Fast.


All in all, what I really wanted to say is that, no matter how big a mother's butt gets post-partum, it will never beat the size of her gut.


Though I'm actually worried about work, I am really more relieved that my son is in good hands- and that they are my own.

emotionally drained.

Apart from the first day, hari ini memang hari paling mencabar nak hantar Luqman ke Taska. 

Yesterday, it looked like he was adapting pretty well. In fact, I was about to point out 2 things that are now different about my baby. 2 very good things. 

And then, this morning happened. 

Pagi tadi, dia bangun sekejap, golek-golek, tengok Mama tak ada, nangis. Tapi mata masih tutup. I came, kissed him puas-puas, gave him his Nena (codename for BMilk) and after he was done, he was wide awake. Luckily semua benda yang perlu diselesaikan dah selesai. 

Since he woke up early and the Taska has this policy where they will not bathe the baby if you send the baby after 8 a.m., we decided to bathe Luqman ourselves, put on some nice, warm clothes on him and make sure he wears his socks. 

Then, time to go to work.

He picked out his shoes (instead of slippers) to wear. Oookay, I thought. He thinks we're going on a field trip, when we're really going to work. 

We got into the car. And stopped in front of the Taska (yes, it's really that close). OHMYGOD belum keluar kereta pun dia dah menangis. Like really menangis. Refused to get out of the car, until I got out of the car. He knew exactly where we were and what was happening. I'm proud he's so aware tapi kalau beginilah gayanya selama sebulan, I think I might be in for an emotional breakdown. 

Tak sampai hati bila tengok anak macam itu. Hari-hari.

Like I said before, I don't know whether I'm selfish for putting my convenience into the whole equation, but I trust my instincts and believe that this is (so far at least) the best decision for now, and for all. 

Actually, I think there's only one problem with Luqman going to the Taska, which is the fact that he misses his Mak (his previous babysitter). Otherwise, his teachers tell me that normally, a few minutes after I leave, he forgets me, eats his breakfast, joins in all the activities they have for the kids, sleeps well and eats his lunch like all the kids. Having said that, while this seems (in my opinion) like the ideal arrangement, because I have been contemplating the need for more structured learning sessions for him, I think he thinks he's being punished. 

Every time I am quiet, he gets scared. Every time I am out of his sight, he cries his eyes out. I think he thinks I'm leaving him there at the Taska because he did something wrong.

I sometimes think I cannot take it anymore, especially when his eyes tercari-cari kawan-kawan di tempat lama. Sudahlah kawan tak jumpa, Mak pun tak ada. Normally, even if I get him to walk from the Taska entrance all the way to his playgroup punya room, depan room tetap ada drama.

This has been going on for 4 days and I already feel like it's been so, so long. And I feel so emotionally drained. In fact, my colleague commented that I look so stressed out.

Talked to my mom this morning and she said she thinks he's actually having fun sebab there hasn't been any S.O.S. calls about him crying non-stop, not wanting to eat or misbehaving. He just misses his Mak and I guess he needs some time to get used to having teachers instead of having a substitute mommy while I'm away at work. 

I really hope I made the right decision and that he is actually having fun, not otherwise. 

I sometimes wish I knew exactly what he's thinking and feeling, but sadly, I only have my guts to rely on. 

Whatever it is, if he's angry at me, I hope he finds it in his heart to forgive me.

This was necessary, Baby. I hope one day you'll understand. 

smitten.

 

"Go and kiss Mama", says my husband to my 18-month young baby who was busy munching on his dinner.

He waddles towards me, showing off his big baby toothy smile and plants a huge sloppy kiss on my cheek, with his "fishy" dinner smothered over me and all. As a bonus, he gives me a huge hug like I totally deserved it, though I know for a fact that I didn't.

He's growing up so fast. In fact, there are times when I'm watching him sleep that I feel like "stopping the clock" just so I can preserve my favourite moments with him. I know I've mentioned like a thousand times before how I think he's growing up too fast, but I honestly don't have any other way to describe how I feel about this phase of his growth.

Yesterday, I chanced upon this article on Facebook about the iPhone Mom and after reading it, I chucked my handphone away. I'll post the link here if I manage to find the it before I end the post. Although I am far from addicted to my phone (and I don't own an iPhone to begin with), there are times when I think I pay far too much attention to my incoming Whatsapp messages or the games I'm currently into when I get really bored while breastfeeding, hence... the silly excuses I make.

Sometimes, I catch my baby staring up at me, willing me to look at him and that always makes me feel so very guilty. Some time last week, I got this revelation about me losing my (Alhamdulillah) 20:20 eyesight and decidedly stopped fiddling with my phone too much, especially in the dark. And that's when I started looking at my baby really closely while I was feeding him or putting him to bed and I always catch him staring at me with adoring eyes, like I am the most amazing thing he's ever seen. When I do catch him doing that, we always end up snuggling and giggling until we both fall asleep in each other's arms. Like last night, for instance.

I know for a fact that this won't last forever. I know that one day he would be too old and probably a tad bit egoistical to admit how much he loves me. I know that one day, he would even wish I would avert my attention elsewhere and stop smothering him with my mommy-ism. And because I know, for now I'll bask in all of the love he offers, for as long as he's willing to offer it to me .

I sound like a smitten Mom and maybe I am.
 
But at this moment, I really don't care.

So, people should really stop asking when I'm going to have my second because that's really none of your business (eh, tiba-tiba haha).

The Constant Worrywart.

About half a year ago, I made a decision; one which was necessary, but one which I was totally doubtful of.

And up until this morning, I was still wondering if I should have done otherwise, and whether I was selfish to put my own convenience into the whole equation.

Long story short, today I registered Luqman into a new place and not any new place, mind you, I registered him into a Taska- a whole new world from what he is used to.

As expected, he cried really bad. And I mean really, really, really bad. And because I had anticipated this, I took leave today to just make sure he settled in well. When I finally left, he was still crying.

So you can imagine the state of my emotions for the whole day after having left my child to fend himself in unfamiliar territories like that.

Having said that, I was actually relieved that by the end of the day, I didn't get a frantic phone call "S.O.S" ing me.

Come 5.30 p.m., I was already at the Taska to pick Luqman up.

Guess who greeted me with a huge toothy smile at the door?

Yes. Luqman was all smiles when I came and he was even shaking hands with his friends as he was leaving.

I was so relieved. And so very proud that that my 18 month baby made it through his first day with flying colours.

Sometimes I think that I'm being a constant worrywart for nothing, as my son has proved so many times how adaptable he is even in the most life changing situations.

But I guess I can't help it just like most, if not all mothers can't too.

I just hope that this positivity lasts and that he will continue to be the happy boy he is.

Well anyway, I wrote this post just to say how proud I am of the strong, independent boy he is growing up to be and that he has taught me how unconditional and limitless a mother's love can be.

I am truly blessed.

glass ball, rubber ball.

Bismillahirrahmanirrahim.

I can’t quite put into words what’s been happening for the past month or so, so I’ve basically summed it all up in the title of this post.

It’s been a month plus at the new place and I don’t know why I keep on counting the days. I’m sure nobody’s keeping score and truthfully neither am I, but each time I look at the calendar and realize that it hasn’t even been 60 days, I wonder why it has felt like so long. 

In a nutshell, my days have begun early and ended late. Every. Single. Day. 

But because I have been previously forewarned and I have also set my mind to making the best out of these best laid plans, I followed through every single day like nothing had changed in my life, when all the while some things in my life were breaking down bit by bit by bit because of the change. 

Little did I know, much less realize, my body was the one thing that took the most toll out of it all. 

I had to go through this particular ordeal and after that ordeal, I came to the realization that no one is going to care about me if I place very little importance on myself.

A friend reminded me that work is a rubber ball and family is a glass ball. One will bounce back if dropped, but the other will break. And I learnt the hard way that out of all the facets of the glass ball, I am probably the most fragile (at least for the moment) and that if I break, everything else around me will crumble. I've also learned that people who are nice on the surface may not be the kindest, and people who have been rumoured to be the worst can be some of the nicest people and more understanding than you think.

So, I’m learning to put my foot down and to put my needs before others’. It’s a work in progress and it’s going to be a long, long time before I’d be able to say I’ve achieved the perfect balance.

But for now, I’m all set on keeping my glass ball from breaking.

90/50 | tachycardia | 38.3 degrees | Reminder to self : DO NOT REPEAT |

to the moon and back.

I love them | To the moon and back.

I'm having serious withdrawal syndromes from my boys today.

I keep browsing through their photos.

And I keep looking at my watch to see if it's time to go home yet.

I keep texting and wanting to call to say the most random things.

Although these 2 make me oh-so-mad sometimes, I simply cannot imagine a life without them. I know what life was before them, but I'm pretty sure I don't want to revert to those days. I guess this is true love.

And I (without a doubt) love them to the moon and back.

♥

best laid plans.

20 days after and I'm still adjusting.

Though I'm here on promotion, it doesn't really feel like so. Not because of the surrounding circumstances or because of the things I've had to give up, but more because there's just so many things to learn.

Walaupun sebelum ini sedar tinggi langit, rendah bumi, kini, lebih sedar. That's for sure. 

And I know it's weird that I feel a lil' melancholic about leaving everything I had, but at the same time, I do believe my leaving my comfort zone was possibly the best thing done at the best possible time. Allah is indeed the best of planners.

And now, I think the ball's in my court to make the best out of those best laid plans.

I most definitely don't plan to fail.

Just so you don't forget me (and my BIRTHDAY!) They somehow got it WRONG (despite the 2 IC copies I submitted) so I've sent it back. Hehe.

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 ;) )