meandering the isles.

Meandering has really become one of life's little luxuries these days.

Not that I'm complaining though it seems like so and I admit that the lack of it has actually been a saviour to my pocket, but I can't help but miss it sometimes.

Having missed it so much, I decided that I would go to Cold Storage during lunch hour last Friday ALONE. I just wanted to meander. Surely that's not too much to ask for right?

And then, my colleagues asked me whether or not I would like to join them for lunch at this new place in Jaya Grocer (which I honestly thought odd in the beginning as I've never seen a Jaya Grocer with a food court in it), and though I knew I wouldn't be alone, it was an offer I couldn't quite resist. Plus, if it's close enough to Jaya Grocer, that would mean that I'd still be able to meander as planned. 

Turns out to be one of the best lunch dates I've had with friends in a while. 

The food was SO GOOD, I became so thick-skinned that I admitted I might have a mental problem since I was busy taking photos of my food. 

My lunch was roasted chicken with 2 sides which only cost RM15++. I took the roasted garden vegetables and sauteed mushroom salad as my sides and they definitely tasted as good as they looked. All in all, I was seriously very pleasantly surprised and I have my colleague to thank for introducing us to this really nice eatery. I didn't take any photos other than my food though, but the little deli right in the middle of Jaya Grocer was clean and quaint and smelled really nice.

As for the meandering part... well, guess who came back smiling like a goon because she managed to get her hands on these (among other things)?

My husband definitely got a great dinner that night (chewwah. perasan nak mampus).

But hey, I ain't joking! ;)

Salmon| Spinach| Capers| Cream Sauce| Spaghetti

kan saya pakai tudung?

You see, a few months back, some time circa Raya Aidilfitri, I was contemplating whether or not I should get myself a haircut. Anybody who's seen my hair pre-headscarf would already know that my hair has a life of its own, but post-partum, oh boy, it really started to prove how much life it actually had. 

You see, after I donned the headscarf, I thought I would have less qualms about cutting my hair or at least not give as much thought as was the case pre-headscarf, but NOOO, I still couldn't bring myself to just chop it off. Gah.

However, with post-partum baby fat, self-esteem issues and lack of sleep, I didn't need chronic hair loss and dandruff to add on to the list of things that were making me feel any less attractive.

After much discussion with my husband, he encouraged me to take that leap of faith (like what??? it's just hair, it'll grow!) and all we had to do was to decide on a style that suited me. Not that it mattered so much to the public, but it mattered to me how my husband looked at me.

He then suggested the unthinkable (to me at least), which is to cut it really short, like a certain someone on my Instagram timeline, which he thought would suit me really well AND save me from all the hassle of having to ACTUALLY take care of my hair.

I was repelled by the idea, obviously. 

But he continued to coax me,

"Cuba awak potong rambut macam XXX. Cantik!" 
(Why don't you cut your hair like XXX. It's pretty!)

To which a defiant me replied,

"Tapi saya kan kerja Kerajaan. Saya tak boleh pergi kerja rupa macam lelaki okay!"
(But I work with the Government. I can't go to work looking like a boy okay!)

To which he of course replied with that look like that was the silliest thing he's ever heard in his whole life because.... admittedly it was really silly! Gah!

T___T

Epic FAIL.

Kan saya pakai tudung sekarang. Sabar je lah.

Anyways. I finally cut my hair on one fine Saturday morning. And I'm loving it.

Missus Nice Guy.

That is who I no longer am. 

I remember once upon a time ago, when I just started working, I was so eager to please that I did everything people told me to. These days, though I'm still eager to please, I've learned to choose my battles. Some things just ain't worth it. 

You know, back in those days, people would tell me I'm wrong and I would admit that I'm wrong even though there was a huge part of me that rebelled, wanting so badly to say otherwise. I let people tell me that I'm wrong to the point where I began to accept that Number 1 - I'm wrong; and Number 2 - even if the person telling me off was wrong, Rule Number 1 still applied. 

While it worked for the longest time and got me out of situations which could have probably erupted into full-blown arguments of some sort, little did I know that the people evaluating me branded that trait as "timid", when in fact, all I was being was courteous. 

I felt so misunderstood, and to be honest, at a point, I was almost sorry for myself.

Then, I stopped.

I came to realise that I was such a pushover.

People would ask me all kinds of favours, from the silliest ones to the bigger ones and I always had such a hard time saying no. 

After I realised how wrong I portrayed myself, I became sterner about my stand. 

If it was your meeting and you don't have anything pressing on your plate, deal with it.

If you have guests to entertain but you aren't fond of entertaining, don't get me involved just because I'd be pleasant with them.

If I had submitted my part of the work, I stopped covering up for other slacking team members because I was just so tired of picking up half-baked products from other people's ovens, so to speak. 

I know it seems mean, but of course, in writing, I can't and probably won't ever tell you what my key considerations are when I say no. 

Thing is, as mean as it may seem, I kind of like the new Hanisa.

And with some empowerment (which I have the privilege of experiencing at the moment), I feel even better since I can now call some shots, PROVIDED ALWAYS that I have taken sufficient steps to deliver the best. 

I'm writing this not because I want you to know how mean and hard and cold I've become, no. 

I'm writing this so that all the pushovers out there know that it isn't too late to push back. 

Took me nearly 3 decades to learn, but hey, better late than never.

I was Missus Nice Guy and this is my story.

Partners before Parents.

I do sometimes think that I don't say it often enough, at least not verbally, but I really do love my husband.

Apart from my ridiculous egotism, there's really no excuse or reason as to why I don't say "I love you" as often as I feel it. In fact, this treatment isn't exclusive towards him alone, it also applies to my son and my family members and everyone I really actually care for. I don't say it, I find more comfort in showing it. Is this peculiar to only me, I wonder? Whatever it is, I really am trying my best to improve in this department and I think my husband can attest to it.

The amazing thing is, my husband keeps on doing amazing things to and for me, regardless. 

And though I feel extremely grateful for being blessed with such a good life, there are times when I don't feel the need to say it, especially not to the whole wide world. Well, since he's so amazing, I'm not surprised if anyone wants to steal him, so yeah, a girl's got to do something to watch her back, ehehe, kidding (not really kidding).

But today, I feel like I should do a special mention. Although it was nothing out of the ordinary, it was done out of sheer logic and compassion towards my situation and not many husbands would have done it for their wives. 

***

You see, Luqman is at the REALLY clingy stage. You know I really mean it when I've caps locked the really. It has escalated to a point where he has to at least FEEL my presence even with his eyes closed. I don't know the cause and I'm trying to find out but for the most part, I do think that this is merely a phase. But it's a REALLY trying phase. It's adorable at times and frankly kind of heartwarming, but when I'm in a hurry or I've got something cooking in the oven or when I'm getting ready for work, it's not funny at all. I mean like, seriously, nobody likes a screaming baby, even less so when you know you're like minutes away from sending him to school, meaning that your last memories with him that morning involve tears trickling down his cheeks and him clinging to you for dear life like a baby koala. 

***

So, this morning, although my husband was rushing for a site visit, he offered to alleviate my... situation. He just offered to send my baby to school so that I could have some peace of mind, so that I could get ready uninterrupted and not have to worry about a screaming baby all by myself. And although my so called "freedom" was for just about an hour or so, it really does change my state of being.

Marriage really is for my husband. 

And for that, I love him so very much. 

He makes me remember that we're partners before parents.

the best thing?

I have a younger sister and she is the only sister that I have. 

Naturally, she thinks I'm the best sister in the whole wide world (not that she has a choice BAHAHAHAHAHAH), despite the arguments we've had as children and the despite the numerous occasions I have thrown her out of my (our?) room before my Dad decided to build another room for me, so that none of us would have to share anymore.

Anyways, what's done is done and we've gone wayy past that. 

Now that we're older, I naturally think that she's the best sister in the whole wide world too. Well, it's not  like I have a choice. Ehem. Hehehe. 

The best thing about having a sister is that you can share everything. Like seriously. We share the same size and when it comes to clothes, we share almost the same taste. So, when we're about to embark into a purchase that's way beyond the average price, we would Whatsapp the other to ask about what they think and if we manage to get a green light from the other, our purchase is justified (which makes my Mom go bonkers! Boohooo!)

Anyways, the other good thing about having a sister is the fact that she understands. 

When I was about 8 months pregnant and bestfriends with the toilet, we decided to switch rooms. As I have previously mentioned, my room was in the attic, which obviously required me to walk up an extra flight of steep stairs, which isn't entirely bad, but considering the elevation of stairs (45 degrees), my Dad got worried and so we switched. 

And of course, with moving comes alot of confusion about who owns what. 

Even though the best thing about having a sister is that you can share everything, this weekend at my parents' place, I wasn't too sure...

 .

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Weih, ni spentot siapa?"

 *Confused*

I do it for Abu.

Every year without fail, the UiTM Moot Club would call me up to offer me to be one of the judges for the Interpart Moot Competition. While I was previously reluctant, citing lack of experience as an excuse, in 2011, I made a "comeback" of some sort. Of course, back then, I also had the rest of the gang with me, so it wasn't so bad. Last year though, I had to decline because I couldn't get anyone to baby sit Luqman for me so this year, I thought I'd go back to where I felt I most belonged. 

To be very honest, I didn't really research on the subject matter because I had my own work to do at work. But, at first glance, just by reading the statement of facts, I knew that one of grounds would be on a constitutional matter. Ahh, was glad I agreed to participate! My Saturday would be so interesting, I thought. 

So, yesterday morning, I dragged my sleepy baby and sleepy husband to Shah Alam for the first rounds of the Interpart.

a notebook and a token. i love them both, thank you!

Being on that side of the bench felt SO good. Of course it felt good, I was the one with the questions! Hahahaha. I admit that I may have been a tad bit mean, but I know what it's going to be like at the finals and the judges then will most definitely have very little mercy on them. 

Having said that, after being in the work force for about 5 years now, I have to admit that UiTM graduates were not exposed to proper research and opinion writing (at least during my time, well what do you expect, it was Nazim who "thought" us, if he did teach us anything at all). After having met graduates from other law schools, I always find myself in awe with their research skills. Impeccable, I tell you! 

Knowing how important proper research is, that was one of the criteria I looked for when judging. Hmmm... and to be honest, it was quite disappointing. No wonder people tell me the quality of graduates have gone down the drain. There were basic questions that went unanswered and let's not get started on their understanding of the Supreme Law of the Federation. Clearly, I expected better. Luckily I didn't know which part they are in before I judged. Kalau tak, mungkin dapat borderline pass aje budak-budak tu. As it is, I think I was pretty strict with my scoring this time round.

But all in all, it was so good to be back! I really enjoyed myself and god willing, I'll continue to participate.

And Abu? Every year, I do it for Abu. Only this year, there was no Abu there. And I is sad.Very sad indeed.

what's wrong, my love?

Since I started sending Luqman to school, there isn't a day that I'm not wondering whether or not I'm doing the right thing. 

I know you're probably tired of hearing these stories, but unless and until I get this off my chest, I don't really think I can move on. 

It's almost a month now since I first sent him. Oh wait, it is exactly a month today.

And in this month alone, I have seen my baby grow and bloom wonderfully (but as you are aware, I may be biased), which is great because I'm constantly looking for that positive development. 

Having said that though... I have also noticed some things which I am not used to. 

Like how he stopped calling me Ma for about 3 weeks. It's not that he started calling me something else, he just decided not to address me at all. My guess is that this is just his way of telling me how pissed off he is at me. But then again, I could just be over reacting. 

My son also became a little less affectionate. He used to slobber me with his sloppy kisses. A kiss to him meant that he should put my entire cheek into his mouth and that he should suck it and complete it with his signature "aum" sound.

And those are just some of the major things that I really miss about him. 

I'm not saying that sending my son to school was a bad idea (or was it?) and I'm not at all trying to indicate that his teachers are treating him poorly or that he isn't getting enough attention or that he isn't having fun. In fact, I am ever so grateful to his teachers for being so patient with him crying and resisting them in the mornings and for making exceptions where he is concerned simply because they want him to be comfortable. 

But yes, the love and affection that they are showing is just a different kind of love. 

Everyday, my husband and I would wonder what our son is thinking. Some days, when we're watching him play, we would notice how thin he's gotten and how light he is when we carry him and how he's generally changed, like something in him is lost.

And it really isn't rocket science. Of course he misses his babysitter. 

Due to some circumstances though, we've been meeting his babysitter more in this past week. We haven't been sending him during office hours, no, but we met with her after hours. 

The first time we went, he came back the jovial little Luqman that I know. I remember how relieved I was when he hugged my leg when I was doing the dishes that night and started calling me, "Ma" again. Phewww. His love for hugging also resumed after the first visit and he just generally became reanimated. Of course, that was until he realised that he wasn't going to be sent there for good. 

After the latest visit, I took my baby home, knowing that he was going to have sweet dreams. And believe you me, I caught him smiling in his sleep more than once as he had so much fun! 

I really don't know how to settle this lil' "problem" of ours and I am pretty sure taking him out of school and sending him to another babysitter, who's not his former babysitter wouldn't make a difference to his current condition. Plus, now that he's volunteering to get out of his carseat when we reach school, I'm sure it'll be just a matter of time before I'll have trouble taking him home from school. 

At this point, I'm really just clueless. I really hope I'm doing the right thing. Thank you for reading. 

*sigh*

under the weather.

Last weekend was actually a really relaxing weekend for us because we decided to "outsource" all the housework kepada yang lebih pakar. All I had to do was to instruct the Akaks about what needs to be done, show them around the apartment and monitor them. And of course, pay. Man, did I feel like a taitai. And man, does it feel good to feel like a taitai even for a day.

Sadly though, I was hit by some bug or some I don't know what on Sunday night, which left me so weak I could barely sit up, let alone carry my baby. I was purging, on the verge of vomiting and my back was practically sealed to the bed. Just couldn't do anything!

Though I spent the entire Sunday in pain, I was racking my brain as to what could be the cause. Everything we ate on Sunday was homemade, my boys ate everything that I ate and they weren't the least bit affected so I was seriously baffled. Bukanlah question kenapa Allah bagi sakit, but I wanted to get to the root of it so that no one else would be similarly afflicted. Cukuplah Mama sorang sakit. Penat kot sakit.

Then Monday morning came, and I felt so much better after the meds and a good night's sleep. And then, my husband was hit by the bug or the we don't know what AFTER HE DRANK WATER FROM MY WATER TUMBLER! An hour after he took a gulp out of it, he curled into a foetal position and he vomited and purged while he was taking his bath! Boy was I glad to find out why I was feeling like crap. Though I must say that the reason is really unexpected. It was boiled water okay!

Took us about 2 days to recover and I realise that age might just be catching up with me. Or maybe, like my mom said, I'm a tad bit dented after the hospital incident a while back, that each time I get sick, it takes a while for my blood pressure to get back to normal.

 

After forcing myself to eat, loads of liquids, burping like nobody's business and the non-discreet farts that I mercilessly let loose to any passers-by to my work station and also my husband who shares the matrimonial bed with me (hehehe), Alhamdulillah, I think I have fully recovered and back to my old bouncy self. 

No wonder Allah afflicts a soul with hardship, because I have never felt so thankful to be so healthy.

Feels so good to be back on my own two feet again. 

So now, let's make good use of this good health and get productive.

good times like these.

Last weekend was probably one of the best weekends we’ve had as a family in quite a while. Well at least that’s the way I feel about it anyways.

Not that we did anything out of the ordinary or went to places other than those we normally do, but yeah, it was how a weekend should, in my opinion, always be.

After bathing Luqman and letting him nap for a bit, we decided to go out to Alamanda. Had to get some groceries and I was itching to bake, so I just HAD to get some butter and flour.

Of course since we were all hungry, we grabbed some lunch at Nando’s as well.

I think Luqman behaved exceptionally well last weekend; sat all the way from home to Alamanda in his car seat (notwithstanding tears and screams and all), sat quietly in his high chair while we had lunch and also actually ate his lunch with much gusto since he’s now regained his appetite after he cut his first molar.

Ever since he turned 18 months, I’ve become more comfortable feeding him store bought food that we eat as our own meals. Previously, I would bring homemade food for him like pasta and rice balls, but now that he’s older, it has become tougher to feed him. It’s not so much because he’s a picky eater, but more because he wants to eat our food and demands his independence i.e. wants to feed himself, so things like porridge, rice and pasta are really just not practical at all.

So, since Nando’s is relatively healthy, I decided it should be alright to order him some Peri Wedges, which he of course, LOVED!

Anyways, since my piece of chicken was kind of big, I cut it into 2 and left my chicken drumstick on the left side of my plate.

Guess who cheekily, albeit ever so nonchalantly took it OFF my plate like it was meant for him?

 

Yes, this Cheekypuff, that’s who!

I was SO shocked, but at the same time amused by this! And I’m so glad that I wasn’t too gob smacked to snap a photo. Heee. By the way, I had every intention to actually EAT the chicken drumstick okay!

But hey, that’s not the end of the Boy’s cheekiness, alright!

Imma just chillin with my Upin, Ma.

Lookie here what he was up to when we were having dessert at Starbucks?

Gosh, don’t you just think that these kids grow up just wayyyy too fast.

I can’t believe that he was once this helpless lil’ baby who didn’t know anything but cry, smile and poop just about a year plus ago!

It’s becoming harder and harder not to miss him these days, especially now when I’m worried sick about how he’s doing in school.

And today I miss him ever so much, so very obviously. 

*Oh, by the way, please do give me ideas any Mommies out there about healthy finger foods that you feed your toddlers. So far, I've made some steamed potato fries, meatballs and chicken nuggets.These are winners with Luqman but I wish I could incorporate more vege and also rice in his diet, while letting him have his independence while eating. Pretty please and thank you!*

the one about tough love.

When I discovered that I was having a baby, I remember how determined I was to train him to sit in his car seat, for safety’s sake. Of course, my mom, having babied us all up until now, thought otherwise. After each visit, my plans of putting Luqman into his car seat would inevitably be squashed because she would ask me, “Taknak peluk baby ke? Sian dia.” And I would always end up cuddling up to my baby (who by the way is addicted to my boobs) and would end up feeding him the whole way home.

That became the unhealthy practice which led my baby to think he would get his upah each time we got into the car.

And then, my husband had to go for his 6-month course and I had no choice but to begin the training session. It was long overdue, if you asked me. And I hated to have to do it because it was my fault that he wasn’t already used to it but I trained him anyway. It was dramatic and traumatizing. I remember posting on FB for advice and I was told time and time again that I was doing the right thing; to train him. It was after all, for his safety. Plus, I was assured by more experienced mommies that babies will eventually stop crying, hitting themselves and vomiting once they figure out how much it hurts.

It took him 4-6 weeks to finally get the idea that I wasn’t going to pick him up even if he cried his eyes out, vomited or hit himself silly on the head. Of course by then, he already knew how painful all of it was.

And therefrom began our wonderful (in sha Allah very safe) car rides.

Until my husband’s 6-month course ended.

I didn’t realize it but I had missed cuddling my baby so much for the period of time which he was subjected to sitting on his own in the car. So, when my husband came back, we went cold turkey on the car seat. There were times when we tried putting him on the car seat again and as expected, he cried and cried and cried and my husband, being the kind hearted person that he is, couldn’t stand to see his baby cry and caved. Every. Single. Time.

He’s such a Dad, I sometimes think I’m a Momster.

However, just recently, I told my husband that we really needed to train him to sit on his own in the car. It was just getting out of hand. He’s nearly 19 months and he’s still addicted to my boobs. And because he’s such a boy, he really can’t sit still in the car and wants to move from back to front back to front on and on as and when he pleases. More importantly, from his “driving” sessions with his Atuk (and also Daddy), he was beginning to think that handling the steering wheel was his birth right.   

I couldn’t stand it. It was just too dangerous. Plus, we never know when we’ll need to travel alone with Luqman – it could be me, it could be my husband. So, we finally upgraded his baby carrier to a big boy car seat, which we got at Manjaku Bangi at a very reasonable price. Since Luqman was the one who picked the car seat, all the while saying, “Tik (cantik), tik, tik” when we tested it on him at Manjaku, we honestly thought that he wouldn’t mind actually sitting on it in the car.

Pftt. Who are we kidding.

Of course he minded.

But this time, I’m happy to report that it only took him ONE day to realize that no matter what he did, how long or how badly he cried, BOTH of us are going to ignore him. Well, since I was the one who did the initial training when Luqman was much younger, I wasn’t that alarmed with his antics. Kesian, yes, Mama mana yang tak kesian, walau Momster sekalipun. But I am so much stronger this time round. I knew my husband still couldn’t take it and there were times when he wanted to cave, scream and get angry at Luqman because he was angry at himself for being angry.

But I told him – NO. The only way to do this particular training was through tough love. And complete silence and ignorance.

So, toughen up he did.

Problem is, now Luqman doesn’t want to get out of his car seat.

 

Congratulations, Hanisa.