Of the Movies and The Birds & The Bees 101

It has been quite some time since we’ve been to the movies as a whole family. My kids were already excited to watch X-Men because Over the Hedge is just not appealing to Papa. Otherwise, it would just be me and kids.

In fact, Papa has never been to the movies since we got married. The record was only broken last week when we both sneaked out to initially watch The Da Vinci Code, but ended up with MI:III just because it was Saturday night at Midvalley.

Adam, sort of aware of this fact asked me if Papa would be surprised to see the big screen because he thought his dad has never been to the movies. He thought it would be like his first time to the movies where he screamed when he saw too many people sharing the big screen with him.

“Abang, Papa would be alright, it’s just that he’s not seen a movie even before you was born”, I told Adam.

“Masa tu Abang inside Papa’s tummy?” he asked back.

“Yeah, something like that” I replied trying to establish the timeline.

Then he started digressing.

“Then Papa took a straw and put on his belly-button, and then he put on Mama’s belly-button, and then put Abang in Mama’s tummy, kan, kan?” his big eyes started to sparkle.

I was stunt at that thought, trying to relate his question to my initial explanation of the duration of time his dad has not been to the movies.

I had to agree with him, though someday I know I have to be creative in explaining to him about the miracles of life and how he came to the world. He has been curious about his existence before, triggered by our wedding pictures and his absence from those shots.

So I just sticked to his 4-year-old imagination first, that he was in Papa’s tummy back then. He knew that if he were in Mama’s tummy, the tummy should be big like all the aunties he’s seen at the hospitals every time we went for my kids checkups. Later, at about 5 years old, he started asking me about how he got transferred into Mama’s tummy.

“Hmm…let’s see, how do you get something so small get into Mama’s tummy?” here I’m trying to expand his imagination.

“Abang tau, use straw!!” because we were having that discussion over lunch somewhere.

“Yeah, that’s it, something like that” I said, just to conform his thoughts to that idea only.

And he gave me a big triumphant smile because he just acquired some wisdom regarding the birds & the bees, and he did all by himself!

Sooner or later, I'd better be prepared for The Birds & The Bees 201...sigh!

Friday's Frenzy & Driving Dementia

Hey it's Friday, and you would think TGIF! Hell NO! Especially when you work right smack in the city center. To add to that, it's the start of school holidays, and suddenly everybody wants to go on holiday too.

Hello...the holidays are for children only, and parents of the children. You singles out there please take another time to do your vacation. Please don't go clog the road especially on a very wet Friday afternoon.

And you mommies and daddies, it's only Friday, you only start the vacation tomorrow...

(I'm so gonna get bashed for saying all these...).

I don't understand why people have to get off work at the same time on Fridays? Can't it be like any other work day? How come the traffic gets so bad on Friday? So bad it's not moving at all. I have been observing the main road out of the city since 5pm, and the queue is tremendously long and static. Is it due to the NAM road-closure rehearsals? But then again, every Friday is a traffic anguish. So where do all these vehicles come from and going to? Why does it have to be Friday?

And of course you could go mad once you got trapped on a Friday jam, especially when your mobile phone is running out of battery, and the car radio is broken. You get to talk to yourself then.

makbudak: that murano looks like it's gonna cut into my lane

makbudaktoo: yeah, no way, I've been in this exit lane since 2 km ago, i'm not gonna let him..

makbudak: why can't the guy just queue up like others?

makbudaktoo: maybe his girlfriend is shouting already

makbudak: or maybe he's just didn't go to school

makbudaktoo: he's got that third world mentality, even though he got a first class vehicle

makbudak: well...some people are just selfish..or "sandwich"...giggles...(Adam always mistook sandwich for selfish)

makbudaktoo: hey! that bmw is cutting lanes too, and the harrier, and the v6...!!! no wonder the line is not moving...

makbudak: oh look! the digital board is flashing someone's plate number for cutting the queue.

makbudaktoo: you think that's for real? I think it's just a gimmick so that people stick to the rules

makbudak: hmm..maybe you're right. I doubt that ITS thingy is working. It's good for telling you which road is packed. It never gives you solution. I never hear people complaining getting compounds from that.

makbudaktoo: yeah...whoever got the deal for installing those tiny cameras and digital signage got be somewhere in the Bahamas now...

makbudak: for all you know that job is sub-conned to others...

And makbudak continues talking to herself, wishing her car would turn into something like Inspector Gadget's car, with extended long branched wheels, moving above the rest of the traffic.

Loads of Work, Loads of Guilt

My workload for the past two weeks were enormous, and endless, causing me to be down with fever and sore throat. I was flat on my back during the weekends, trying to recover sleepless nights for the past week. The sad thing is I was not able to coach Adam in preparing for his exams, which starts today.

The guilty feeling of not being able to be there as a good mother and teacher for your kid is just another torture for a working mom like me. Sometimes at work, I'd pause momentarily, with a tingling sensation deep down in my tummy whenever I thought that Adam is not guided with his homework at home. Even though for now I'm quite lucky that my sister is around to assist him, sooner or later, he'll be alone again. With his mom clocking long hours at work, how would he know that he's progressing well with his lessons?

I envy the stay-at-home moms, who could sit down with their children everyday. I envy those who has children with good grades and good behavior. I envy those who do not have to worry about what their maids are doing because they are around to supervise them. I envy, I envy, I envy...

Perhaps, to some average folks, working is a sacrifice for the worldly pursuit of ensuring your finances are maintained to keep your kids in school and have a decent standard of living. And I'm one of those average folks, I have to sacrifice my time with my children to be able to feed, clothe, and put them to school. My darling hubby on the other hand would ensure all the other finances are taken care as well. I just wish that one day my kids would understand that Mama & Papa worked very hard to ensure their future is taken care of, and Mama actually goes to work with a very heavy heart, and a sinking feeling, envying the time her children had to spend without her...

Sheer Madness

Upon reaching home at 7:30pm last night, I was greeted simultaneously by my three offspring, hungry and boisterous. Everybody was trying to say something at the same time, seeking for my utmost attention. For what had happened during the day was instantly making me furious and utterly disgusted with the maid.

Every mother would be infuriated, fuming with anger when you got to know that the one person you hope would take care of your children actually neglected them the entire day – to be the slave of DVD movies. She actually did not even prepare lunch for them, and I even wonder if Amir was given breakfast at all. The kids had bread and jam for lunch, and of course by time I stepped out of the car, everybody was shouting their empty stomachs.

Obviously, the first thing I would do was to yell at her.

“Kenapa tak masak?” (Why didn't you prepare lunch?) I queried.

“Budak-budak nak makan roti saja” (The kids just want to have bread for lunch) she answered.

“Mestilah makan roti sebab balik rumah nasi tak ada!!” (Sure they did, because there’s no lunch in the first place!) I corrected her answer.

I was doubly furious because she did not vacuum the floor as I asked her to do in the morning before I leave for work. That task she conveniently forgets to do every weekend, and I ended up telling her every Monday despite the big time-table I stuck on the fridge. Triply mad because I just called her at 5pm from work asking her to prepare dinner (so that by the time I got back I’ll just throw the ingredients into the wok) but nothing was in the sink at all.

“Buat apa hari ini?” (What did you do today?)

“Tak ada apa-apa…” (Nothing..) she just answered without thinking…

“WHAT THE …” Just imagine I was almost coming out with swear words, and considering that those words never blurted out of my mouth, it was sheer madness for me.

I don’t know for how long should I succumb to this domestic-help lunacy, but surely her contract is expiring soon. If it’s not for the financial restriction, I would have just fired her yesterday!

The Diagnosis & Denials

Finally the diagnosis is confirmed - lymphocyte rich tyhmoma. Which means my dad now is being referred to IJN, as surgery is recommended to remove the tumor. Fortunately is not cancerous. Unfortunately, the cardiothoracic surgeon is on vacation, so the earliest appointment set is for May 17, 2006.

Hearing that he has 2 weeks to wait, my dad, being so restless staying at his daughters' houses, insisted that we send him back. If we refused, he shall find his own way, perhaps the commuter to KL Sentral, then the bus from Pekeliling to Kuala Lipis. Ya right! So it ends up with my youngest brother who happens to be on leave sending him and my mom back.

The first thing he did when he got home was to clean up his fish aquarium. Then he went around the house fuming the mosquitoes with whatchamacallit-aerosol. I guess he refuses to admit that he is sick, and to forget that he will be undergoing surgery. Most elder people are like that.

A friend's father was even more stubborn - he drove to the clinic himself in the middle of the night after some naggings from the wife and children, refused to see the doctor but instead just bought some drugs for himself to relieve his pain. He also insisted that he will only see his regular doctor on his regular checkup day, and refused to admit that his pain needs to be treated immediately. I suppose that is what people label as "denial". I think if we were in their shoes, we would also react the same way. If you are capable of doing things you always do, that would mean that you are ok. It's all in the mind some people would say.

Today, my dad actually walked to the masjid for his Friday prayers. It sounds like another denial act. I don't know what he's trying to proof, or is it just a mere excuse to have an exercise?

Haircut Mamak Style

Anyone with boys? Do you think that it is one of your most challenging moments to bring your kid to the "Mamak the Barber"...or some fancy hairstylist for some stylo-mom? Or is it just because it is "Mamak the Barber" that causes all the fear and anxiety in your kid? And those stylo-moms do not have that problem at all because the smooth, relaxing, spa-like ambience actually distracts the kid from throwing the haircut-tantrum?

I had experienced it already with Adam, which I must attest, was even more terrible than Amir. Adam would scream his heart out until the haircut is over. While for Amir, it is the actual pre-haircut events that actually terrified him. He actually recognize the road and buildings around the barber shop and will quickly claw my cheek, or his aunt's cheek if ever we passed that road, and his baby dialect he would say "nanak potong ambut...", and also screamed his heart out.

When it comes to the actual moment, Amir would just sit still, but with very sad, guppyfish look, waited until the haircut is over. Not much a challenge afterall!