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!

Still Uncertain

My dad's extended lab result is with me, but I need the specialist to interpret it, and he's outstation. That leaves my dad (and us) in a lot of anxiety, counting the days until the specialist is back from Brunei.

Based on the diagnostic description, the tissue sample is defined as "mediastinal tumor". I actually sent it for further analysis to SJMC, and the diagnosis that came back was "lymphocyte rich thymoma". So I have a feeling that it is a confirmed growth in my dad's chest, whether it is benign or malignant, that is up to the specialist to tell us. All I know is that it may require surgery, which means most probably my dad will be refered to IJN.

In the mean time, my dad is going for alternative medicine plus some traditional massage. His cough is becoming unbearable, and he gets tired even going to the bathroom. Sleepwise, he still has to lean back and sleep, and he will start getting his spasm around 2 or 3am. The cough will subside if one of us massage his back. That somehow will alleviate the spasm, and it is a relief to see him catch on his sleep right through the morning. He actually sleeps better after Fajr prayer, and sometimes we don't have the heart to wake him up for breakfast.

And we are still counting the days for Tuesday when Dato' Dr J will be available for consultation...

Adam is 8!

I remember he was overdued. My gynae asked me to come back in 2 days time to have an induced birth. It was a gruelling 7 hours of labor pain, especially after she broke my waterbag. To make matters worse, my cervix was only opening up to 4 cm. The heartbeat monitor showed that Adam's heartbeat was weakening, so my gynae decided that it had to be a Caesarean section afterall.

I was already tired and restless, enduring the continous pain, pulling my internal muscles. It felt like my tummy was being sliced and pulled, and I endured it without epidural, it was just the gas. My lips were constantly reciting prayers, wishing that would alleviate the agony. When I was handed the pen to sign the consent letter for the C-Section, I just scribbled away without reading the fineprints. My first baby was too contented inside me, not wanting to come out and see the world. And I just couldn't stand it anymore. My husband had been standing besides me for hours, and I was sure that he couldn't stand to see me in pain anymore.

All I could remember after that was the anesthetician calling my name and reciting "Bismillahirahmanirahim.." and after that I passed out. I woke up to the excruciating pain at my lower abdomen, again saying my Creator's name, Allah, Allah..and calling out to my husband that I needed painkillers. I remembered him kissing me softly in my forehead, I guess thanking me for delivering him a son.

Later, still in the daze, I recalled my husband and the peaditrician discussing something, and moments later, Adam was brought to me. I distinctly connected to the two big eyes, looking at me, and my heart expanded, proud to be a mom finally. "Assalamualaikum.." I whispered to his ears. My joy subsided when the gynae announced to me that my firstborn might have some problems. I shook my head in disbelief, and checked all his fingers and ran through his little, soft figure. "No, nothing's wrong," I said to myself. I looked at my husband in the eyes, and I see sadness there. "What is wrong?"

The paeditrician said that our son showed some features of Cornelia de Lange syndrome in his physicals. The moment i heard the word "syndrome", I burst into tears. After that I did not hear what she was saying anymore...my husband was comforting me. My baby had to go through some tests to make sure that he was alright. But after scrutinizing my son's features, I realized that his legs are rather small, and his feet are tiny too. The paeditrician told us to be prepared to put my baby for physio-theraphy as he might have problems balancing his weight, and perhaps could not even walk.

As a mother, I refused to accept that diagnosis. Throughout his two-year babyhood, we worked hard with the physiotherapist to ensure he could correct his walking posture. My heart sank everytime we underwent theraphy, as he will scream my name and refused to continue as it was very uncomfortable for him, perhaps painful as well. Nevertheless, we braved through that, and he finally could move his two feet unassisted and formed steps when he was about 25 months.

Now, Adam looks like any other child in Primary Two. He even has admirers from the big sisters in Primary Five and Six, maybe because of his chubby face. Once in a while, he will complain about the pain in his right leg, as he still cannot endure long walks and intensive exercises in school. He may be slow in class, but I guess he will take his time. He may need special classes, but as long as he knows he has his parents supporting him, he will always be the dreamy boy with cheeky imaginations with two big round eyes..

Uncertainties

There comes a certain point in life where we have to face the facts that our parents are starting to show signs of ailment. My dad has been in and out of the hospital for the past 3 days after 3 weeks of prolonged cough. The x-ray and CT scan showed a tumor the size of an apple lies between his heart and the liver. My siblings and I are now faced with uncertainties, not knowing what is actually the diagnosis.

The treating physician is claiming that this is a rare case. He gathered his panel of experts in his department to look at my dad's case, and the more we are panicking. My dad has to go through a biopsy procedure to collect some tissue sample from the growth. Being in a public hospital, you have to work your way around to get faster diagnosis and results. I had to send the specimen to an external lab and now the results are with me. I can't make heads or tails out of the fax copy sent to me, but from the words "lymphocytic thymoma" - I figured it must have got to do something with cancer. My heart sunk when I read the definitions, but it has yet to be translated by the specialist.

And the appointment is tomorrow. I shy away from thinking about it the whole day today by making myself consumed with work that has been delayed for the past few days. When my dad was in the hospital, he kept himself amused by cracking jokes with the nurses and fellow wardmates. He was in the coronary rehabilition ward, and those admitted there a far ailing than he is. But I guess his optimisim is the only way to make himself forget about the tormenting truth planted there in his chest.

I fear going through a sleepless night tonight. As I write this, my eyes are already blurring with tears, unsure of what is coming tomorrow. I am hoping for the best for my dad, the moment of truth when his doctor will translate the lab results...

Maid in Malaysia

I don't know how many would agree with me, but we working moms certainly depend on our domestic helpers, or infamously known as the "maid" to take care of our daily chores and most importantly the routines of our children. Can you believe it (especially those without the extended network called Wan/Opah/Nenek/Tok/Nana) that we actually put 100% faith into the hands of our maids to take care of our precious little ones everytime we leave for work?

But having domestic help not only challenge your stress level, but also your health level. Eventually, these two are interconnected by the way. You never put high expectation on the maid anyways. The least you expect is that your kids are well-fed, the laundry is done, and the house is, to say the least, swept. But when you called home and your four-year-old is providing a detailed CNN-like report on her caretaker watching those Chinese/Indonesian/Thai serials since lunch till 5pm, and been postponing your daughter's request for milk and her abang's request for cokodok for snacks..which mother, tell me my friends, will not scream??

Like one of those Azean Irdawaty's Cerekerama line.."you made my blood go upstairs!!" - that's what my maid has been doing to me. I actually prepared her a daily list of what-to-dos, with specific sequence, responding the the fact that she always "forgets" my instructions. But what can you say if she said "saya lupa tengok jadual itu buk!". My blood is now going up the sky!!

I don't like to scold people, but the things she did just made me boiled inside. I never raised my voice before, but with her, I have been transformed into those mean-old employer babbling with snickering looks everytime she comes home to check the kitchen. She doesn't have to go anywhere else because that would stir another explosion. And that is me, every single working day...counting the days till her contract expires, hoping to get a better replacement, but deep down inside, there's always the doubt that all maids are from hell.

Homework Blues

Procrastination rules! It has been doing that for ages, and I'm pretty sure Adam got the bugs in his blood too. The thing about homework is that it's meant to be done much later...preferably closer to the dateline. And Adam is very good at that. Blame it on Mama too. Too much house chores and too many functions to attend to last school break, which means Adam's homework gets the least attention.

As much guilt feeling I have at the moment, I also can't help it either as Adam is also as stubborn as ..? I know it's not Mama because Mama was a very punctilious student. Need to ask Papa if he was a tenacious lot. Perhaps we need to refer to Opah?

And the curriculum need to be blamed too! Hey! Were you expected to do your Karangan when you're in Primary 2? Heck no! We were just learning how to construct sentences if I could remember correctly. And I think this problem is a little too hard on my boy 7 year old... isn't it?

Write the number sentence for 35 + _____ = 48, and what is the missing number?

Cavities Beware!

Cavities beware!
it’s dentist visiting day

big boy most in despair

anxiety in the air

despite countless affair

still seeking his lair

my girl is the valiant kind
fear is last on her mind
the little boy’s first appointment
not to Mom’s disappointment...

I'm glad Amir enjoyed his first visit to the dentist. Unlike Adam, both Aina & Amir are bravehearts. I have no qualms about introducing them to new concepts and ideas. As for Adam, I need a lot of patience and creativity, and this is the part the father is always good at. The trip to the dentist today was an eventful one, with Adam almost screaming at the top of his lungs, but one good thing is that the dentist is now familiar with my kids' character. At least the rapport would be better the next time around he he..

The Sully Treat

Age is definitely catching up when you can no longer stand roller-coaster rides as mild as the ones in the kiddy park in Berjaya Times Square. I'm exeggerating here...but hey, with 3 kids in a place where everything looks like a toy...say no more!

Since I cannot afford a beach get-away or something of that sort, I resorted to bringing Adam, Aina & Amir to the theme park. As long as we're going somewhere - that was my motivation for this school holiday. Initially I wanted to take them to Aquaria, but then Adam & Aina have been there with their Opah (my mom-in-law), not too mention the unbelievably expensive entrance fees. Then I considered the Bird Park, but with bird-flu and HFM and what-other-mutated-diseases these days, I'd rather take them somewhere I think and feel is safe at the moment.

So we ended up at Cosmo's World, and seeing the sparkle in their eyes when I was purchasing the tickets, I knew I made the right choice then. I didn't mind the long queue at each ride, the cotton-candy demands, the zillionth-time sand-art request - they DID have a jolly good time. And to capture them with "Sully" their favorite movie character in that digital moment...priceless!

Being a modern-day mom is not easy, your children are not easy to please anymore. More exposure, extended friends and with high degree of awareness, they've become a real parenting challenge. Somehow I just wish things are as simple we were before - no Xbox, no Astro, no 10-kg schoolbags...and we still turned out fine.

My Angel

This is my little angel, my loyal assistant and my only girl. My mom said she looks exactly like me when I was little. I don't know to what degree that is, but she definitely inherits the father's nose. My nose is flat and ugly...and I'm lucky to have married someone with "hidung mancung", hoping that trait would be soon passed down to the little ones. Naah...only my girl got it...so the boys are stuck with Mama's nose.

One thing I notice about girls is that they tend to mature faster than the boys. At 4, Aina is already reliable in assisting me at home. She would help me fetch the towel, diaper and bath needs for his little brother Amir. She'd even do the chores that I asked Adam to do, which ended up with them fighting. But then, Adam did "dilly-dellying" what ever I asked him to do. Seeing the frustration of me waiting, Aina would voluntarily finish Adam's chores, and that's what I like about Aina - no fuss and no complaints.

On the other hand, the big boy Adam still behaves like a baby. I wonder is it the same with other boys his age? Or is it due to me "manjaing" him so much? He only got his baby sister when he's 3+, while Aina got his baby brother at the age of 2+. I guess the "gap" factor plays a role here, and I think Aina matures faster because of the Amir's arrival.

Frankly, I miss Aina's "babyness" because of the short gap. I couldn't really enjoy her toddder years because of my difficult pregancy. I didn't have much time to cuddle and snuggle with Aina with all the Chicken-pox, dehydration, kidney-stone problems that I had while carrying Amir. And now, she's a big girl, learning the ways of the women in my family from her Wan and aunties; Mak, Atih, Atam & Acik. Most importantly, I know she'll take after her mother, so I need to set really good examples and behavior to prepare her for the world...

We need some magic!

You know when your toddler is sick when:

1. he wakes up a couple of times at night asking for water
2. he doesn't care which channel the tv is tuned to
3. whatever Mama does is not right
4. he insists that Ribena is equivalent to milk
5. he violently objects to Abang & Kakak sitting near Mama (even at arm's length)
6. it is so difficult to persuade him to take his paracetamol but you know he loves all kind of medication and;
7. he clings to Mama all the time (and this is when you feel most appreciated and loved...)

I hope Amir will get well soon. Adam has been sick since his Sports Day, and just went to school for only a day last week. It's the school holidays, and we haven't been anywhere except to Atuk & Wan's house (for a cousin's wedding nearby). Other than that, Mama has big plans of going to the Science Center and Aquaria. But then,

"Mama, apasal mommy orang lain semua cuti...and Mama still go to work?"

Sigh...and Papa can't even consider taking a day off! It's hell at his office. Perhaps Papa can do some "magic" and take time off to be with the kids?

Santa in March

Thin Peruvian Santa was in town on Sunday...bearing gifts from the land of the Incas - translate: my sister KT and her hubby Z just flown in from Peru for their vacation here. And Z the nice Santa has actually lost a lot of weight, and he's proud of it. The happiest ones would be all my children, nephews and nieces as they were showered with lotsa presents from the home-longing happy couple.

The best of all was to see Amir's face lighted up when he got a pair of Spiderman-lit sneakers. His eyes were gleaming with happiness, followed by a trickle of giggles everytime he jumped up and down to trigger the lights on his brand new pair of shoes. I wish I had a video-cam at that moment...that look on his face was priceless...just like that Mastercard advertisement. He wouldn't want to take them off at all!

Aina & Adam also got their dream sneakers. Another pair of Spidey-shoes for Adam and a light purplish-pink Barbie sneakers for the girl...and everybody's eager for our next family trip out to parade their long-awaited gifts from "Mak & Uncle Jack".

Later I lamented to my sister how we were deprived of such gifts when we were that age, even until we went to college - everything was hard-earned. Being in a large family taught us to be responsible and un-selfishly share whatever we got. During those day, when Apak brought home a bag of red-apples or mangoes whenever he came back from an out-stationed trip, we would carefully count the fruits or nicely cut them into little pieces, enough to make everyone felt that they were getting an equal share - hey! 7 siblings for a pack of apples! Can you imagine the pulling and chasing when one felt that his/her share was unfairly divided?

Motivations

What drives me to wake up every morning, fighting the comfort of the cozy bed and the cold of "man-made" winter in the little dwelling that we partly own (with the bank of course)? It's actually those cute chubby faces that I need to shake & quarell with every single morning just to make sure they get ready for school and kindy. Yeah, sometimes I can be a mean mom, but hey, they will only appreciate it when they became parents themselves...perhaps in another 20-25 years?

Somehow, I just can't recall my own mother being mean in the morning...or was it because I was a good little girl, eager to wake up and follow my Apak to school? I remember those days, holding Apak's hands and walked through the school's soccer field, passing the canteen and then to the surrogate-class that Apak made the class teacher agreed to treat me as a proper student. I was barely 5 years old in an all 7-year old class. And because I was such an enthusiastic student, I actually beat the rest of the classes in most subjects. I'm digressing here, but I wish that my children would have that spirit in them, to be able to drive themselves and not depend on Mama to get them prepared for school.

My eldest, Adam, now in Primary 2. It was very difficult to make him wake up in the morning during those pre-school days and Primary 1. But then I realized, when he started to assimilate himself with primary school, and have established a circle of friends, it's no longer a challenge to cue him for school.

Nevertheless, the challenge is now passed to Aina, who just started pre-school at 5 years old. I have ran out of all creative ideas to at least motivate her to open her eyes..gosh..sometimes I just resorted to lifting her up from bed and placing her in the shower, after which I will get so great a resistance that my 2-year old Amir would also end up in the same bathroom. So then, Amir would be first waiting in the car to send her sister off to school, and Mama would have to drive to and fro just to make sure she didn't take Amir to work.

Finally, Mama ends up swiping her access card at the office at 9:30am, thinking of what would motivate her to finish work early so that she would be able to rejoice the achievement of meeting the morning challenge, day in, day out and go home to embrace those cute faces again.

The First Time

Hey! Other people have blogs! I should have one too, so that my kids can read all mama's mumblings here rather than in their ears - they wouldn't remember unrecorded mumblings now anyways. When they grow up, they would find this amusing I hope, as this would be the official documentation of Mama's life now.

Secondly, I'm also paranoid in a way. Life is too short these days. I'm afraid I might go first before my kids get the chance to know their mama better. So perhaps the ramblings here might help to a certain degree. Watching Stepmom (Susan Sarandon & Julia Roberts), really touched deep down there..not to mention the unstoppable tears. So, that actually contributes to the starting of this blog too.

And finally, I'm always envious of those writers out there, who could just conjure up any story they want. I wish to be one of them and this is my training ground, I hope!