Happy 3rd Birthday Sprong!

21 Jan 2011,

My darling boy,

All of three today!

A little dynamo that chatters non-stop and who floods us with smiles, hugs and kisses as well as tantrums and furious tear-fests, bringing amazing joy and great drama into our lives.

My firstborn; warm, beautiful and absolutely huggable. 'Don’t worry mommy, Captain Sprong will help you clear up' you say when I get started about how messy the house is.

I love that you have your own little world with all your make believe friends consisting mainly of Thomas, Percy and James as well as of late, the fear of the shark in Pororo (so you refused to go into the water when we went to the beach because you thought that the shark was going to come and attack anytime). Sometimes, you also think that at night, there’s something behind the red curtrains.

I love that you still say trouyers and lellow. You used to also say Bob ka biddle.

I love that you always ask me to sit and watch the rain with you. Just you, me and thambi sitting in the patio, quietly watching the rain pelt gently on the earth.

Our 'Sprong and mommy time is something I treasure –there is an impenetrable circle between you and me which have included train rides to A&W, an afternoon in kidzport, eating fries together at the burger place in Bangsar, lots of sand art, playdough and simply lying together on the grass in the garden.

Did we have a life before you? I am sure we did (and it definitely involved your papa and me going to art galleries, eating at elegant restaurants and travelling somewhere!) but now, today, life is all you, you and you. School , playdates,ice cream dates. Boundaries. Temper tantrums. Pororo and Friends. Railway tracks and tunnels.

For your 3rd birthday party at Kidzport, you had a Thomas the tank engine cake and Tidmouth sheds for all your engines.

Did I mention cakes –all kinds, chocolate, carrot, coffee - which can be in any colour green, bue, yellow, pink. Also of late, lollipops. Of course, you also try your luck – every morning, you will wake up and declare ‘it’s a holiday mommy’, so that I don’t go to work and you don’t have to go to school.

Even on the lowest days, when my energy is sapped and I feel that the world is breaking me, I have you to go home to. I have you to remind me of all the goodness in the world and feel that is right again. ‘Are you happy Mommy?’ you ask me.

‘Yes, always, as long as I get a hug and a kiss from you’.

I wish you a blessed life my darling boy.


XXX

Key words influenced largely by Playhouse Disney:
Cool mommy!
I’m hungry, my tummy is growing
I’m not going to school (daily occurrence)
Hola it’s Kandy Manny
Let’s make a bridge mommy

Likes: cakes, cookies, ice cream, trains

It's Okay to be Awesome

It’s OK to be awesome.In fact, it’s preferable. Highly-recommended.

Perfect 10s across the board.

It’s OK to be the smartest, the cutest, the sassiest, the brassiest, the best-dressed, the most well-versed AND the most ambitious person in the room.

It’s OK to know exactly what you want and to GO for it — guns a-blazing, Lady Gaga-style.

It’s OK to be an artist, writer or performer, and NOT be poor.

It’s OK to quit your day job.It’s OK to have dreams that make no sense to the casual observer — and to actualize them.

It’s OK to kick everything to the curb and start from scratch.

It’s OK to be a Jack of All Trades, and a Master of ALL.It’s OK to be a supernova.

It’s OK to be sought after.

It’s OK to spend more time packing the perfect bento box lunch than actually eating it.

It’s OK to take more than 2 weeks of vacation per year. Much, much more.

It’s OK to spend a lot of time, energy and money improving your mind, body and soul.I

t’s OK to be the life of the party.It’s OK to love so fiercely it hurts.

It’s OK to be legendary.

It’s OK to surround yourself with people who are just as awesome as you are … and maybe ever awesomer.It’s OK — really, truly, honestly — to be awesome.

What makes you awesome?

XXX

I pinched this from http://www.yesandyes.org/2010/10/its-okay-to-be-awesome.html.

Love,love, love the self affirmation - to remind me that everything's going to be ok on days when it is absolutely raining crap.

October News

So so much has been happening..........

so my silence is absolutely unjustified. I just have no time and when I do have the time, I feel so shite/tired/crap that I don't write anymore.

Had a few really good reads these few months. Must update on that. What will I do without my books- I will hollow and empty out, especially when life constantly straggles.

Sprong and Wispy have been good and well except for the bouts of flu/running nose/fever etc that kids tend to perpetually be having. My source of great joy and greatest exhaution.

I dream everyday of running away for a fabulous holiday all by myself, deep blue sea, pina colada and great book in hand but know that the minute I reach there, I will miss them like crazy. I just can't win. So it must be.

Work? Downhill all the way really. Moving soon I hope, not sure if it's a good thing in terms of timing though.

Fat quotinent? Way, way too high. Some guy wanted a donation at the concourse of The Weld and asked if I was pregnant. Of course I didn't donate but also know that he was trying to be all pally wally and said it as it was. I need to eliminate this rolls but with no exercise, how? And please don't tell me to find time to exercise. I work from 9-7 (most of the time inc lunch) and have 2 hours tops when I come back with the kids. Where got time?

I am miserable.

work, work, work

Why do I find it so hard to take a break ? In fact, when did I last take a real break- you know, even if physically you go somewhere else, it must at the mental level. I find that once I scale a particular project/issue/job, I need to do something else, bigger, better and more dramatic. Once this is done, move on to another. Repeat as nauseam.

Why is it surprisng then that I am mentally so, so, so exhausted????

"Our culture invariably supposes that action and accomplishment is better
than rest, that doing something--anything--is better than doing nothing. Because
of our desire to succeed, to meet these ever-growing expectations, we do not
rest. Because we do not rest, we lose our way. We miss the compass points that
would show us where to go, we bypass the nourishment that would give us succor.
We miss the quiet that would give us wisdom. We miss the joy and love born of
effortless delight. Poisoned by this hypnotic belief that good things come only
through unceasing determination and tireless effort, we can never truly rest.
And for want of rest, our lives are in danger."
Wayne Muller, Sabbath: Finding Rest, Renewal, and Delight in Our Busy Lives

A Loss

My aunt passed away last week. A tumour had eaten into her voice box and a heart vessel ruptured during the surgery. My mother collapsed when she collected the butchered body of her sister.

I wasn't particularly close to this Aunt but found that I was affected nevertheless- I had grown up always knowing her so felt some semblance of grief. The thing that struck me was as a family, we needed to cling together in facing our loss.

The communal grieving process was a coping mechanism for us and the Hindu ceremonies that ensued provided some kind of organized system to the inner chaos that we all felt. These were the necessary processes that have helped us manage.

A nation with no soul

My friend Awang Goneng has got it absolutely right:

“.....we should teach our children again the value of literature, its disciplines and its propensity to give a deeper look into life, and love and everything that no scientist could dissect on a cold slab nor accountants calculate in a balance sheet.”

How many CEOs have I met in corporate Malaysia who are 2 dimensional accountants or scientists, with nothing to offer beyond their vocational skills? Too many.

This is the price we pay today, two dimensional technocrats who have no soul.

More here: http://www.nst.com.my/nst/articles/Theimportanceoflanguageandspeech/Article/

Browsing

I was researching a entirely different story for a work related project when I chanced this. I don't know Najib Rahman and when his father the IGP was gunned down, I wasn't even born but he writes with such candour that I felt the pain reading this son's account of his father's death.

My father, the IGP, was gunned down

Somedays only a Poem Will Do

The Coming of Light

Even this late it happens:

the coming of love, the coming of light

You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves,

stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows,

sending up warm bouquets of air.

Even this late the bones of the body shine

and tomorrow’s dust flares into breath.

-Mark Strand

Weekend Rambling

Finished the Brooklyn Folllies - Paul Auster spins a nimble tale, a postmodern paean that deftly explores human follies. It's a bit too clever for my liking, the loose ends come neatly tied in co-incidental sequences. It doesnt detract the fact that he is such a good writer though.

Also trying to read Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides and feel like I am living in some kind of Greek tragedy except that it is in Detroit. Its very, very good so far. It sings.

Book of the week: Malaysian Maverick Mahathir Mohamad in Turbulent Times by Barry Wain . Will write another post about it.

XXXX

Everyone seems to be watching Glee. What is this? I miss being part of popular culture (with the resolute exception of Big Brother). I miss the simple things like being part of a TV series or show, waiting every week for the next installation. Once upon a time M and I used to do TV dinners almost every night. Our favourites were The West Wing, House and Gray's Anatomy (M wasn't too mad about Gray's but for me, it was the droolicious Patrick Dempsey that did it).

Now, there is too much mayhem to have a TV routine. A good weekend is one that is spent in Jungle Gym.
XXXX

My maternity break is almost over. Oh, the misery of going back to work. Of driving everyday into the city (did I mention that I work in downtown KL, 10 mins away from KLCC which means perpetual battle with the traffic EVERYDAY).

Oh,if only I had the guts to quit everything and write a novel. If only.

But I need to feed two children.

Cartography

Mother's day weekend. I am not really mad about Mother's Day and all that. As much as mother's pour love, they can also wreck havoc and create serious damage in the lives of their children so I really think all this exulting of all mothers is just a bit much.

I worry about the impact I can potentially have on my boys and can only hope that they grow up into decent, well adjusted adults who live good lives. M has big plans for them, thinking of their careers and universities, etc. For me? I just want them to be absolutely happy.

My gift for them as a mother?

I want to give them choices and possibilities. I see my job as cartographer, I draw the map with all the roads out and they get to choose their path. My aim is to be damn good at cartography so that they have all the right roads before them. What they end doing and how they ultimately lead their lives is in their hands after that.

What do I expect from them?

I expect them to live a good life. That will be their gift to me.

managing

Managing a toddler and a baby has been much harder than I ever imagined particularly because toddler has been throwing numerous horrific tantrums including rolling on the floor when not getting what he wants. I am at wits end, having tried everyting except for whaking (M and I agreed that we are not going to raise them like that no matter what). You know, love begets love and all that.

I am however seriously reconsidering this because 2 year old doesnt seem to have registered any of my admonishments.

The other thing that is worrying me is that he is just not that into sharing -his toys, etc. I know that this is normal but how do I inculcate a sharing habit. This evening, at the playground, he refused to let go of the swing when another boy wanted to have a go.

All the world is a birthday cake, so take a piece, but not too much

Dear Wispy,

You are 1 month old today. I can’t believe how fast it’s been. Soon you will even be no longer the wisp of a thing that I held on Feb 25th. In fact, you hardly look like the wrinkled cabbage leaf that you were and have been thriving well.

Your birth itself was serendipity. On the 24th afternoon, I was already 3 cm dilated for 3 days. M and I went to watch a movie, My Name is Khan (which by itself was pretty mundane) and it made me pretty wistful that this will be my last movie/outing/social event for a long, long time before you popped. I remember after Sprong, it took me 2 whole years to go back to the cinema to watch a movie.

That night, while putting Sprong to bed, I suddenly felt mild contractions. Mild means enough for me to have a warm bath, have a cup of milo, give orders to the maid, get my mom to come over and call M to hurry from the office. It was 12 pm by the time we reached the emergency ward and I was buzzing with pain already. After this, I was in an epidural induced haze- god bless. I even managed to nibble some crackers, suddendly hungry as the last thing I had was popcorn at the movie.

By 6am the next day, I was again in a fair bit of pain, despite the epidural. The midwife had a look at me and declared that I was in labour. By 6:45, my gynae was next to me and out you slid, ceremoniously plonked in my arms all gooey and gnarled.

The world when you were born: Orang aslis were caught killing tigers in jungles in Pahang, a survey revealed that young people spent 2-4 hours a day on social networking sites on the internet, a French hostage was freed by Al-Qaeda.

Famous birthdays : George Harrison ( title quote is his) , Anthony Burgess, Auguste Renoir

Blogging Again

So yes, blogging mojo has been regained. I really want to maintain momentum this time because blogging is kind of one of those 'me' things that I enjoy doing but has been one of those casualties of motherhood and a busy career combination- which also includes movies, reading with abandon, TV, rambling walks/runs, coffee with friends, holidays and any other remotely social undertaking.

This time around, I am quite determined to balance me time and mommy time, though it's proving to be trying with a toddler and a baby.

But I'll try.

XXXXX

Updates

1. So, yes baby No.2 Wispy was born on 25th Feb. A Tiger baby to my Golden Pig Sprong.
2. In 09, I moved to another job but it has come with its own set of frustrations. Hmmm...
3. In a way I am glad to be on maternity break, I need some time to re-think where I am heading now.
4. M's been pretty busy with work and with my schedule and the kid(s), I sometimes hardly see him. We seriously need to resolve this.
5. Our 7th wedding anniversary is in June and I want to do something nice but not sure what.
6. I turned 34 in January. 40 creeping closer and my personal strategic plan nowhere activated as yet.
7. Don't think a holiday is going to happen soon ie in the next year although I am dying for one. Just the thought of dragging a toddler and a baby anywhere is tiring-the last one we had was aeons ago to South of France last summer.
8. I miss Croftie, Ira, Maur, Steve, Rajesh (and Delio) so so much - I dont seem to have friends like that in Msia. Or maybe I have no time to cultivate friendship now.

Okay, Wispy is fussing.

Books read, loved and loathed

Books read 09

Jan/Feb Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert

March The Trial by Franz Kafka ,Calcutta Chromosome by Amitav Ghosh

April What was Lost by Catherin O’Flynn

May The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga

July Norweigian Wood by Haruki Murakami , The Other Hand by Chris Cleave

August Their Eyes were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston

2010 Reads Jan-March

The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck – cry fest which was nurtured by pregnancy hormones.

One Night at a Call Centre by Chetan Bhagat – Stay away unless you have too much time on your hands. I picked it up after watching the inspring 3 Idiots which was based on another book by the same author. I didn’t expect too much noting its ‘popular’tag but this was absolutely badly written drivel. To be fair, I read it till the end but it never got any better.

The Return by KS Maniam- Re-read. It gets better actually after the 5th chapter or so. I do think its an important piece in terms of Malaysian reading with all the necessary questions of identity and corresponding angst, driving a stake in Malayan ground and all that.

The 5 People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom. Hey to be fair,I wanted to read something light during labour and maternity. It was between this and Paul Astler’s Brooklyn Files. Give me a break okay, I was in no mood for CK Prahalad and saving the world.

yawn

Yawn! This blog is dusty.

Haven't attempted to blog for the longest time, the biggest excuse really is of laziness. Yes, I've been busy etc but I think I have been slowly losing the will to blog....which I do intend to remedy in 2010.

Talking of which I can't wait for the new year- 09 in introspection in the next post.

My dear bunny boy is hitting the Terrible Twos Very Early On

My dear Bunny Boy,

As you toddle into your 17 months, I know the world is increasingly becoming complex. There is a need to establish boundaries and carve out your identity.

I want you to know that it's okay, it's okay to be frustrated and sometimes show it loudly. Because it may seem that nobody understands you or bothers about what's really important.

I do also want you to know that I am trying my hardest to understand some of that frustration and how difficult it may be for you to be assaulted by this constantly changing world. I may sometimes disagree with you and not allow you more time for colouring or tell you to stop playing your bus so that you can have a bath. I know that this is terribly annoying but you must know that I do make sense. If you have a bath too late, we wont be able to go out afterwards and if you want to spend all your time with your crayons, when will you have lunch?

Always remember that you are making choices. If your choice is to throw a tantrum and fuss, then all that energy is wasted. Just think if you make wider choices, then your world view will open up and your day can just be so much brighter and fun filled.

I want you to have fabulous, magical days -every day.

I try my best to do this but you've got to help me as well. All that you've got to do is just be your usual sunshiny self and spread your Sprongy goodness into the world. You definitely make it a better place.


lovelovelove

mommy

17 Months - I see the moon and the moon sees me

At 17 months, Sprong-isms include:

- Little happy jigs for mommy when she is back from work

- 'Roar' like a lion

- Turning DVD player on

- Scrunching of nose and hearty laughter when tickled

- Obessessed with the 'mun' (moon), stars and SUNNN

- Favourite song: I see the moon and the moon sees me

- Favourite show: Mother Goose song series

- Can march like a soldier on order, left right left right

- Not very good with sharing toys

- Loves raisins, prunes, cheese

- Likes to do his weekly painting

- Is fussy about what T-shirt he wears except for ELMO

- Likes to run and make mommy catch him

- Is able to order Papa around , sit, Papa, sit, Papa SITTTTTTT

- Likes to open and close bottles and tins and says OPENNNNN

- Has learnt Malay words courtesy of Indon maid, vocab includes atas, habis, lapar (in context)

- Is learning to play badminton with Papa

- Digs his nose (uncultured part of DNA must be courtesy of paternal side)

Today is one of those days

Today is one of those days.

When everything unravels, my eyes smart from the lack of sleep, my mind too numb to sort out that never ending to-do list and my spirit all shrivelled, lacking the energy to navigate the constant quagmire.

Of what? The pressures at work, the worries at home due to current state of being without maid, the new career path that I intend to carve, the financial implications....and a million other things like a new oven that needs to be bought, airconds that need servicing (damn the climate change police), passports to be collected, sippy cups, the right nursery/playschool, walking shoes for Sprong, change of diet.......

Oh, how trivial.

This writer captures my feelings so well.

" After all, there are bigger events. There is a world at large, and my, it’s large. Tanking economy. Greedy banks. Bloody wars. Power struggles. Politics and pundits, media glee.

We are aware of the blazing ring of fire circling us. In the middle of it, we change diapers. We wipe little bottoms. We shop in bulk. We return overdue books at the library. We go to work. We try to find work. We love and we lose our spouses, our children, our way. We cry in the shower.

None of this gets much press.

And yet. "

And yet.

Growing Up in Terengganu

The last person I recommended Growing Up in Terengganu (GUiT) to was my articulate Italian friend, Dr. I. Although she is a top city lawyer, she is a big Italian mama at heart and truly enjoyed the culinary delights that spewed out of the book. Delish Terengganu concoctions are redolent in GUiT and she assured me that she was salivating reading about all those teeming cucurs and kuehs.

The writer, a certain Mr. Awang Goneng is a delight himself, being purveyor of Terengganu vignettes. A good friend, I have had the privilege of joining him and his lovely wife for lunches, teas and dinners (including some involving lobsters).

I myself missed AG's readings in KL, the one involving singing especially, as I was over 9 months preggers at that time and was having one of those false labour alarm days. I did get my copy of GUiT signed at a later day in 1 Utama. I devoured the book in three sittings, absorbed by the salty Terengganu monsoon and the escapades of folks.

Kak Teh tells me that GUiT is now up for Popular-Star Readers Choice Awards 2009 for non- fiction. I do hope that with the attention, the book will be read by more Malaysians everywhere. And I do sincerely hope that it wins because it is one of the rare books that captures a slice of Malaysiana, wraps it up in lilting prose and warms your heart.

Go grab a copy now y'all.

kamala

I belatedly discovered the quiet passing of Kamala Das Suraiyya.

Her poems had been an influential part of my early 20s where I was a bit of a man-hater type feminist.

Perhaps, more than Adrienne Rich, Rachel Carson and Catherine McKinnon, Kamala Das had impacted my young self. The angry young woman phase that I was going through found solace in a woman from a fairly repressive culture - Kamala could boldly explore sexual longing, feminine wiles and freedom. Every word of her poetry reeked with pain and pleasure.

Of course, she has also been contradictory in her ways. In her late age, she took on the burqa which confused and infuriated people. The eloquent Huree Babu explores the Kamala Das phenomenon.

Rest in peace.

When I die
Do not throw the meat and bones away
But pile them up
And
Let them tell by thier smell
What life was worth
On this earth
What love was worth
In the end