tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32489132518087661132024-02-07T12:37:58.272+08:00LIFE AS I SEE IT~ ramblings of a drama-momma ~Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.comBlogger224125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-81539628745245839442013-03-05T21:15:00.007+08:002021-02-16T15:16:32.430+08:00My Holy Journey 2013 - penyucian jiwa dan keinsafanI'm penning this article from my upgraded seat in business class onboard Malaysia Airline flight MH151 from jeddah to kuala lumpur. Why only my husband, my sister and i were selected among hundreds of passengers on board the flight for the upgrade, i can only assume is part of my journey as His special guest (tetamu istimewa Nya). Another unexpected rezeki for us. Rewards come in many ways syukur alhamdulillah.<br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The 'invitation' to tanah suci (finally) came to me in October last year when my sister needed a helper for her trip in March. Frankly speaking, all these years i have either been too afraid or didn't think that i was ready (don't ask me ready for what coz i don't have a clue either) for the journey yet. I am far from being a good muslim - I'm not even close to being even a moderately good one astaghfirullahala'zim. Sesungguhnya aku hambaNya yang amat berdosa. Ya Allah Kau ampunkanlah hamba Mu ini ya Allah. Kau terimalah taubatku ini ya Allah. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">For years my parents have been directly and indirectly telling and hinting me to make the trip and my excuse has always been money - not that i don't have any but something else have always taken priority when money is concerned. Duniawi has always superseded akhirat. Something that i now determined to turn 180 degree insyaa Allah.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But this round i didn't have to think twice and offered my service to my sister. Told my other half about it and he agreed to my suggestion instantaneously, alhamdulillah. So we both got the 'invitation' at the same time. What makes it special from the very beginning is that both of us are going at the cost of one. I can't thank my sister enough for the opportunity. The date of the trip too was perfect as it fell in between my menses which means i may be able to perform ibadah without interruption. God is making it easy for me even from the very beginning. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But a couple of months before the trip, my period was earlier than usual. I was getting worried and started praying that i would have the opportunity to perform ibadah till the day i leave Haram. My doa was granted. My period came right after i boarded the plane home. He gave me the opportunity to pray from the minute i stepped down from the plane in Madinah until the last minute i left Jeddah - subuh to isya'. MasyaAllah. Alhamdulillah alhamdulillah alhamdulillah...</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">That was only the tip of my special journey. Weeks before the journey, rezeki seems to come from setiap penjuru. Suffice to say suddenly we (my husband and I) received money from unexpected sources like insurances and money we never knew we had in bank to settle a couple of bank debts (quite significant amount i must add) in full just days before we left the country. I still can't comprehend how that is even possible. Ya Allah ya Allah ya Allah. If that is not a show of His greatness i don't know what else. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">About a month to departure i started preparing myself for what's coming, physically and mentally. I bought a crosstrainer to train myself to be more fit for the journey in anticipation of the amount of walking i would have to endure and started reading books about umrah and hajj. But no thanks to Mastika (please don't tell me that you have never read this magazine in your teens) the closer it gets to the trip the more scared i get to step into the holy land. To put it simply, i was scared down to the spine (really). Another jemaah in my small group had high fever before departure because she too was too scared to embark on her journey.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">So i started praying hard months before the trip. I prayed that my husband and i are accepted as His special guests, that my journey is made easy without hurdle and without dugaan and cabaran that are beyond my ability to pass. I was always reminded that pilgrims are subjected to tests in the holy land - that's my second biggest fear, fear of being tested the hard way. I prayed that I'm subjected lesson instead of tests. Lesson that I can learn from to be a better muslim. My prayers get more intense as the day gets closer particularly a week before. I performed solat taubat and hajat repeatedly repeating the same doa over and over again. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Exactly 2 days before departure my heart was beating so fast (it felt like i was about to seat for SPM all over again) that i decided to take the day off the next day. I just needed to calm down and relax. A day off work did help me (a lot). </span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We left at the wee hours of wednesday. My 3 elder children were up as early as 5am to bid us goodbye. I have never felt so sad leaving them behind in my entire live. That morning i felt like i was leaving them behind forever. I was really sad beyond comprehension. I kissed each one of them repeatedly and kept telling them that i love them so much. My youngest brother, who was 'summoned' to stay at my house while I'm away, melaungkan azan just when we were about to step out of the house. My heart sank with his beautiful azan. I cried and cried and cried... </span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Our journey to Madinah via Singapore and Riyadh was relatively easy for me. Strangely enough i wasn't afraid anymore but i was really looking forward to the trip. We reached Madinah at the wee hours the following day. I cried the minute i saw bird view of masjidil nabawi on board Saudia Airline and continued on after i landed. I was finally there, in the home of Rasulullah swt. Madinah was very welcoming - the weather was nice and the people there were friendly. I can feel the warmth of the people of Madinah welcoming Rasulullah swt during his hijrah. In Madinah I was called Siti Rahmah, ibu, Siti Humairah and hajjah by the locals. I love hajjah the most. In Makkah, men are called hajji and ladies hajjah. May God grant me hajj soon.</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigcjb-_ZkCYyq_Mvdsu15B0wqMxN9C4v2Nrx5sz-HjOGcucxnKMoyYm-u6tLbg3RLXeK0uKjKt4do8SVhuo-S7K_2h1jjaAA4Offg3NVZh_yEKiUHLimi1ohkKx1-HihqnOdlp7S2-Opg/s1600/nabawi2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" jsa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigcjb-_ZkCYyq_Mvdsu15B0wqMxN9C4v2Nrx5sz-HjOGcucxnKMoyYm-u6tLbg3RLXeK0uKjKt4do8SVhuo-S7K_2h1jjaAA4Offg3NVZh_yEKiUHLimi1ohkKx1-HihqnOdlp7S2-Opg/s320/nabawi2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0HYD_jpZ1fhyZlMu0HIhtyIgu6LVxCMTdsRaw5iL60NNPg9C1l-Tlljn8eujX_NRvquYENGTr_4_ebdYsnXe_4Wo7Oe5z7qsq9EMRWSOtYFUr3AypKS3UTIOZ5ZEvr486tkAQbBwxd9g/s1600/nabawi1.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" jsa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0HYD_jpZ1fhyZlMu0HIhtyIgu6LVxCMTdsRaw5iL60NNPg9C1l-Tlljn8eujX_NRvquYENGTr_4_ebdYsnXe_4Wo7Oe5z7qsq9EMRWSOtYFUr3AypKS3UTIOZ5ZEvr486tkAQbBwxd9g/s320/nabawi1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em>Breathtaking views of Masjidil Nabawi</em></div>
<br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">In Madinah, i experienced the power of doa and tawakkal. Our group is very small, there were only 11 of us including me. Hence, I did a lot of things on my own in Madinah. There i learned if one is sincere, pray hard and niat bersungguh2 insyaa Allah, Allah will make it easy for you. Setiap sesuatu mesti di dahulukan dengan niat. One example, He granted my wish to visit and pray in Raudhah so easily. My hubby was also 'given' the same opportunity, not once but twice. His was even more special. Alhamdulillah.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Both my hubby and i were helped by indonesians while in Masjidil Nabawi on a few occasions. He said perhaps because we have been treating our maid well and Allah sent indonesians to assist us when we least expected it. You give and you shall receive - that's His promise. I was lucky to have experienced it. Subhanallah.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Bidding goodbye to Rasullullah was hard. I never thought that ziarah wida' would be that hard emotionally. I was sad to leave Madinah.</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The first time i saw Baitullah masyaAllah i cant really described how i felt, but i can say that i felt and still very much feel 'sayang yang teramat sangat' towards it. How can one have such feeling is beyond us - tidak sampai dek akal manusia. Alhamdulillah in Makkah it was relatively easy for us. None of us in the group were subjected to any dugaan besar, we were all healthy and judging from the way we ate I'm 100% sure all of us gained a few good kilos, alhamdulillah. A seasoned member in our group said that it's a good sign to have good appetite during ziarah and umrah.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrmqD9U7bovfCuK9giMv1dAJIPbliht5fim8kdVXdoR7WR2glvWLS-t8Fx-4gH7ejkd7D_GwSOHVZWP3jyYUoConE-LY_hJSR82PGHctB8CQc3BcwfoPIpI21C6BmN7cM1KDqsZLbUdec/s1600/baitullah.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" jsa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrmqD9U7bovfCuK9giMv1dAJIPbliht5fim8kdVXdoR7WR2glvWLS-t8Fx-4gH7ejkd7D_GwSOHVZWP3jyYUoConE-LY_hJSR82PGHctB8CQc3BcwfoPIpI21C6BmN7cM1KDqsZLbUdec/s320/baitullah.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em>My first view of Baitullah</em></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">But I must say that umrah is not a piece of cake for everyone. It is physically straining and challenging. Hundreds of thousands (if not million) of people are also doing the same thing while fighting for space. My husband jokingly said Allah sent Indians to Makkah to test the rest of us. You have to be there to understand his statement. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiVbFK8RSzyh0J8cqQxW6Z7TrE6vnVgGXwCmmo5NfsG5L-Mi1vwVbFlkAGsBUtEfsREVieBHlZzCa9WqvqHzII-aeh4n9pLEKEIhtsULGLqMRodFEf8lHfbTqTsfs5J59sKaVl42avoes/s1600/sae.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" jsa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiVbFK8RSzyh0J8cqQxW6Z7TrE6vnVgGXwCmmo5NfsG5L-Mi1vwVbFlkAGsBUtEfsREVieBHlZzCa9WqvqHzII-aeh4n9pLEKEIhtsULGLqMRodFEf8lHfbTqTsfs5J59sKaVl42avoes/s320/sae.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em>The amount of people performing sae</em></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I never walked that much in my life. It is really a test of your endurance, patient and determination. And every umrah experience is different, one could be fulfilling, makes you feel closer to God and it could just even be just a tiring experience. My second and seventh umrah were the most fulfilling of them all. I cried right from the beginning all the way to the end. The feeling of praying in front of the Kaabah is like no other. It's out of this world. It's beyond words, explanation and imagination. I cried buckets (big buckets i must say) in Makkah. Nikmat bersolat dan berdoa di hadapan Baitullah is unexplainable.</span><div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My husband too was blessed with several experiences that taught us both tanda-tanda kebesaran Allah. There, everything you say and do would have its repercussion, its cause and effect, almost immediately. Most importantly, what we do there must be sincere, everything that happened there is a test of our patient and ultimately faith. </span><div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Alhamdulillah my husband and I achieved all the targets we set. My husband specifically asked not to speak about what we went through both in Madinah and Makkah unless we were asked about it. He doesn't want us to sound riak and boastful, hence i will respect his request. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The day i had to say goodbye to Kaabah, while performing tawaf wida' was the saddest day of my life. I felt like i was leaving something that i hold so dear to my heart behind. I cried another big bucket. One can say 'menangis macam kematian ibu'. The feeling of lost is unspeakable. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I'm certain that everyone would have a different experience and stories to tell. For me, my journey is one that strengthen my faith. I have never feared the fire of hell as much as i did when i was there. My journey was one that - mensucikan hati dan penuh keinsafan. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My doa is that this would not be my last visit, not my last umrah, not the last prayer in front of Baitullah, not the last invitation from Him. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I miss Baitullah already...</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieHrNFt_cAdVuGgmgOnKPpppSrn0SFGZDp1RsVJDlYBJdkWRCohyphenhyphenSs0OnBfPdDJySE-wQqlNsTz8JcPyuWxsvaCsSvMA1_oSTyIwbTKGYAZfdCFYhYrZRzzukLvuloO023Tn2DaNhW1iE/s1600/we.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" jsa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieHrNFt_cAdVuGgmgOnKPpppSrn0SFGZDp1RsVJDlYBJdkWRCohyphenhyphenSs0OnBfPdDJySE-wQqlNsTz8JcPyuWxsvaCsSvMA1_oSTyIwbTKGYAZfdCFYhYrZRzzukLvuloO023Tn2DaNhW1iE/s320/we.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<em>Us with jamals</em></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnpD-oZvexJTvghlASe5IOUEzCW2gyhBj1yuv5F4tDYxYlSgyms0qGYEnCDc83TXqT2PgCnMoavdv0wtrXWQpG7PjeCKiuvX7Y380bGBoK3E-VaAhsHbWhGczHoET8aZNVdhd7Ps4fBCw/s1600/us+at+jabal+rahmah.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" jsa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnpD-oZvexJTvghlASe5IOUEzCW2gyhBj1yuv5F4tDYxYlSgyms0qGYEnCDc83TXqT2PgCnMoavdv0wtrXWQpG7PjeCKiuvX7Y380bGBoK3E-VaAhsHbWhGczHoET8aZNVdhd7Ps4fBCw/s320/us+at+jabal+rahmah.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em>Us at Jabal Rahmah</em></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUSkuvTBX9wAKt-GoVpW-S8Bpuf0DTbr6VXxx6JSLzfpuYzRB0dHHDWJsIICqtOPVeeKjAMJ_dKC_ab3Y-6v2sAn4HjudR0VYYVTa5kil3j7OihdV_ioTc7GI-CNn-6oyVvtqHtSTAEBI/s1600/us+at+nabawi.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" jsa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUSkuvTBX9wAKt-GoVpW-S8Bpuf0DTbr6VXxx6JSLzfpuYzRB0dHHDWJsIICqtOPVeeKjAMJ_dKC_ab3Y-6v2sAn4HjudR0VYYVTa5kil3j7OihdV_ioTc7GI-CNn-6oyVvtqHtSTAEBI/s320/us+at+nabawi.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<em>Us at Masjidil Nabawi</em></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjukILeJK6OujnM9iz1eYPxkQTBABzHODHcU5Q6tB8LjzPRPG3kjYn0VBoGL6M4DBElHudk0ZSEYlL9lWGwwCEPp5bkh3YdHkFmOThzH3i6WRXguXMKSbdsze-JC4UsFW5zHUF2VjAE0do/s1600/the+2+of+us.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" jsa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjukILeJK6OujnM9iz1eYPxkQTBABzHODHcU5Q6tB8LjzPRPG3kjYn0VBoGL6M4DBElHudk0ZSEYlL9lWGwwCEPp5bkh3YdHkFmOThzH3i6WRXguXMKSbdsze-JC4UsFW5zHUF2VjAE0do/s320/the+2+of+us.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<em>Us just before umrah no. 4</em></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX5YBIc07SCvEjikbTdUw-w3Fi2BPgO5fk-VRtpO4WgJbRMKLhiuGpeaJnk5ZniFudK63BybriKlL4rcRSjXEYnSupFRQENBv1q_HD5mrGrD7s3lmHVk6d8WLi_sAVbCj9lGPwLg41vuc/s1600/niqab+me.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" jsa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX5YBIc07SCvEjikbTdUw-w3Fi2BPgO5fk-VRtpO4WgJbRMKLhiuGpeaJnk5ZniFudK63BybriKlL4rcRSjXEYnSupFRQENBv1q_HD5mrGrD7s3lmHVk6d8WLi_sAVbCj9lGPwLg41vuc/s320/niqab+me.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em>Moi the saudagar unta</em></div>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Azura Abdullah</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">4 March 2013</span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">6am Jeddah time</span></div>
</div></div>Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-70381240484655304882011-05-14T23:02:00.018+08:002011-06-17T22:35:09.371+08:00It's Supermom's DayI have said this last year and I am going to say this again, in my personal view there is absolutely nothing wrong for mothers out there to be celebrated once a year. We have done lots in our lives indeed - made plenty of sacrifices that no men dare go that same path and went through tremendous pain physically and mentally to give birth and raise our children. Not to mention the heartache and suffering between juggling work and motherhood, while at the same time help our other halves make ends meet. Nevertheless, we did it again and again, no regrets, no fear but with style. I say we all deserve a gigantic pat on our back :-)<br />
<br />
So no amount of people telling me that celebrating Mother’s Day is unislamic will stop me from celebrating and enjoying the day. I sincerely hope that they won’t claim that celebrating Hari Raya too is against the religion next *grin*. <br />
<br />
Enough said, this year’s Mother’s Day is the best ever for me. Besides spending time with fellow BFF mothers in Bandung during Mother’s Day weekend, I came home to a little surprise orchestrated by the kids. There was my favourite cake, 4 handmade cards and a little gift from the kids (but of course the father paid for it!). My heart melted upon seeing ‘em, well what mother wouldn’t right? Thank you kids...I love it, love it, love it! A very special thanks goes to my darling hubby for making this happen...luv you babeh! I guess absence does make the heart grow fonder huh?<br />
<br />
At this point I can’t resist showing off the gift the kids ‘bought’ for me. It’s engraved with my name and the word “supermom”, cool eh? I’ve been officially recognized as a SUPERMOM by my own kids and hubby...yehaaaw! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaG4IwZYwexR2FiIelFiCni6KP_5r7Imki_qc5u1xIxbITDHrrTW2sRNJABSipN1b1yj-yWsu2tyQxPbwa36LGJNHLYTtdo-VbssMyDWyvsGFoF_mZjQunufHpCEGTEv2CQx8SNBu5yAk/s1600/IMG_1280%255B1%255D" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606590769880431282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaG4IwZYwexR2FiIelFiCni6KP_5r7Imki_qc5u1xIxbITDHrrTW2sRNJABSipN1b1yj-yWsu2tyQxPbwa36LGJNHLYTtdo-VbssMyDWyvsGFoF_mZjQunufHpCEGTEv2CQx8SNBu5yAk/s320/IMG_1280%255B1%255D" style="display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 239px;" /></a></div><br />
<br />
The cake – red velvet from BSC<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ0diLVEM9JNp3r1b2VWWpeAXC4BCMm2bfH0AE8xgYo3_G3iF66RGBvjlCiyk4dg3fgCfKydRsygGHVlyOpWtDYmEVFfMDhdNaieICZhaTnnIdEez-iN7ob-uftmuQRIvD32y6_TcgWiw/s1600/IMG_1239%255B1%255D"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606589895965795666" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ0diLVEM9JNp3r1b2VWWpeAXC4BCMm2bfH0AE8xgYo3_G3iF66RGBvjlCiyk4dg3fgCfKydRsygGHVlyOpWtDYmEVFfMDhdNaieICZhaTnnIdEez-iN7ob-uftmuQRIvD32y6_TcgWiw/s320/IMG_1239%255B1%255D" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 239px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<br />
The cards they made which are now proudly displayed on my office wall<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsyRVvDT_7OfePAm5DrWrZNB1CY1EoW8fGONdzFcFWWih5Nm1feCYxUpZhpmrI645-9GN62niko6ISPlAgCYUK54PXOorRYeO6CNKcSQ4HgDXckYs6tVZlzN_EOokfKYOcjxKuWX0WuDQ/s1600/IMG_1274%255B1%255D" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606591212990334946" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsyRVvDT_7OfePAm5DrWrZNB1CY1EoW8fGONdzFcFWWih5Nm1feCYxUpZhpmrI645-9GN62niko6ISPlAgCYUK54PXOorRYeO6CNKcSQ4HgDXckYs6tVZlzN_EOokfKYOcjxKuWX0WuDQ/s320/IMG_1274%255B1%255D" style="display: block; height: 239px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPr23r66fRlXek4f2IGoNsWYEzOEasPE7Nu1Tn_bsVHIwMoR2M4_3V9E3DxrXqwoP5iy59RzLdqulE5l6tCU8Zh0YrsPdzfeW3XmHfBOOnsXMXkltH8bn6Wmz0dtYd4tRjq1KS2TAy8ts/s1600/IMG_1271%255B1%255D"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606593141065727794" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPr23r66fRlXek4f2IGoNsWYEzOEasPE7Nu1Tn_bsVHIwMoR2M4_3V9E3DxrXqwoP5iy59RzLdqulE5l6tCU8Zh0YrsPdzfeW3XmHfBOOnsXMXkltH8bn6Wmz0dtYd4tRjq1KS2TAy8ts/s320/IMG_1271%255B1%255D" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 239px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<br />
My kids and I – I just realized how small I am relative to my sons’ size (oops where’s my tudung? Ya Allah ya Tuhanku, ampunkanlah dosa hambaMu ini, amin) <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJPbbTlUm5FVhcIsw2AwOim-rGzFggW8P-HR43wz-uXb6FKPDA-yWPCL0MSBU0vgsIBDWwNAoKtZ5_YBDHIu6N5kOuHF0_dxAIbwxrBh3JBo9RYyV8cVgssZkkMddfeUzuSo8mW8ALs8o/s1600/IMG_1243%255B1%255D"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606592041634093218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJPbbTlUm5FVhcIsw2AwOim-rGzFggW8P-HR43wz-uXb6FKPDA-yWPCL0MSBU0vgsIBDWwNAoKtZ5_YBDHIu6N5kOuHF0_dxAIbwxrBh3JBo9RYyV8cVgssZkkMddfeUzuSo8mW8ALs8o/s320/IMG_1243%255B1%255D" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 239px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<br />
I say, never underestimate the power of human emotion, a show of a little appreciation goes a looooong way. Love you kiddos! Happy mother's day.Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-11698161622212687362011-05-14T00:58:00.009+08:002011-05-14T23:34:01.965+08:0017 Again!We made it! After 5 months of planning and excitement, 6 of us young ladies made it to Bandung on the 7th of May for a 3D/2 night strictly-ladies-only retreat. I may not speak for the rest, but a few days prior to the departure I was so thrilled and bursting with excitement that I dreamt about it not once, but twice! But I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say that we had a fantabulous time there – not just shopping and spa but by just being ourselves again minus the ‘access baggage’. <br /><br />In all honesty, during that 3-day getaway, we forgot that we are all married with kids. We were 17 again! What a fantastic way to celebrate mother’s day huh? What made it even better was the fact that we speak at the same wave length. Thank you for making it the best weekend ever ladies! Love you all...muahhhhs.<br /><br />Ahli Rombongan Cik Kiah Goes Places, from left: Mdm. IT (juara shopping), Mdm. Banker (the master of pilih baju), Mdm. HR (ketua rombongan), moi (*** counselor), Mdm. Engineer (the spiritual one) & Mdm. Corporate Comm (official photographer) <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzVdjj1jiN-Ynzey5FyQpSfOw9EGb49MzV1EqsBQ_c5_Ne1sVXMN6uHB5jV7kvy4T6r0kr-gIsBx7x6Te51-6HihXJLNYnTsnLW3h0VBg3aah_2h78feuSVXyG_IOwNRmyHPC3nv-NPS8/s1600/at+klia.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzVdjj1jiN-Ynzey5FyQpSfOw9EGb49MzV1EqsBQ_c5_Ne1sVXMN6uHB5jV7kvy4T6r0kr-gIsBx7x6Te51-6HihXJLNYnTsnLW3h0VBg3aah_2h78feuSVXyG_IOwNRmyHPC3nv-NPS8/s320/at+klia.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606247768660927330" /></a><br /><br /><strong>Day 1 – An encounter with a handsome tailor</strong><br /><br />We met at KLIA with our bigger-than-us bags and bags that could ‘beranak-pinak’, in anticipation of the amount of shopping that we will do (with exception of one particular Cik Kiah who brought with her the biggest bag of all but claimed that she wasn’t planning to shop much – yes, I’m heading somewhere with this!). We were literally multi-millionaires on departure day, don’t play play arrr. <br /><br />After I kissed my hubby goodbye, we made our way to the immigration counter and the fun began! It was like we left our lives behind after we crossed the immigration line. From that point on, we exercised our facial muscles lots! We talked and laughed and giggled almost every minutes of the day I tell ya.<br /><br />Upon arrival at the not-so-impressive airport, we were greeted with nice weather - a pleasant change from the hot, humid and unpredictable KL weather. We checked-in and immediately left for Pasar Baru, chauffeured in a relatively new Suzuki MPV by our personal driver cum tour guide, Pak Alex. Our first stop was kedai kain D’Fashion. <br /><br />It was there where we met the handsome tailor (please pardon our excitement because most of us don’t get to meet handsome men often enough. The ones we have at home no longer fall in this category *grin*). Being measured by this handsome chap (at close proximity gittew) was enough to excite us all LOL!!! Fyi, if you are wondering, we tailor-made some pants and skirts for office wear, nothing kinky whatsoever okay.<br /><br />Tailor yang hensem itu...on second thought maybe not so hensem, but it was good enough to excite us all LOL! <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgARPKudAeEMCR79g7tDsrZaA7Pyax0m_8ierY_lXOuwX3hxbxRwG_IYX0wafmyDE71BEyrzmmymu5yfNfK63m2kz1Wiaet7AERhWpLCp_Wrbd9DbdBjURXCZ48APYnnNK36aRqOeagv6U/s1600/tailor+hensem.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgARPKudAeEMCR79g7tDsrZaA7Pyax0m_8ierY_lXOuwX3hxbxRwG_IYX0wafmyDE71BEyrzmmymu5yfNfK63m2kz1Wiaet7AERhWpLCp_Wrbd9DbdBjURXCZ48APYnnNK36aRqOeagv6U/s320/tailor+hensem.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606248504917740098" /></a><br /><br />All in all, the 6 of us bought enough fabric to open a small shop in KL, and I am so not joking peeps. We shopped like it was going to be our last. <br /><br />Next stop was Toko Tiga, the place to buy original jeans in Bandung according to Pak Alex. I didn’t get myself any, although I was tempted to get one - thank God I came back to my sane state (after temporarily went insane at D’fashion). After jeans we headed for dinner at some nasi padang restaurant. Boy the 6 of us can really eat! <br /><br />After dinner we returned to our temporary abode and decided to have coffee outside (mind you it was 12 midnight). We chit chat till late at Wendy’s (since Starbuck was nowhere to be found) while sipping our do-it-yourself coffee, and the gossiping session continued in our room till, believe it or not, 3am! <br /><br />Lesson learned on day 1 -Excessive shopping makes you hungry. You should see the amount of food we ate during dinner.<br /><br /><strong>Day 2 – Temporary insanity in huge dosses</strong><br /><br />Despite sleeping late, we were all charged up to start our day as early possible. Had breakfast at 7am (yes, it was that early) and our shopping excursion began at 8am (really, amazing huh?). First stop was souvenir for wedding goody bags. Fortunately, we were still in our sound state of mind at this point though we did buy stuffs that we could definitely live without! <br /><br />Next, Pak Alex wanted to take us to the handbag shop but we unanimously decided that fake handbags are just not our thing, sorry! Hence, we headed to Rumah Mode instead - my favourite place in Bandung. If you have not been to Bandung and are planning to go, do not miss this place, take my word for it. And guess what, all of us, with exception of Mdm. HR, went CRAZY shopping and emerged from the shop a few hours later a few millions poorer. Some, including a particular Cik Kiah who claimed that she wasn’t going to shop much, even went back for the second round to get more stuff while the rest of us wait outside under the scorching sun (kita bako sikit buleh?). But that didn’t stop us at all, instead, we were roaring to continue shopping (and even managed to forget about lunch along the process). What did we have for lunch again gals? <br /><br />Rumah Mode...retail therapy at its best in Bandung #1<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTYLtUv9etC87UWEvgy7fE6cgnIIWPghLid-8yHblXfc-7zJ2ryTFOPCJEB_C4ZrVKqRAphT_CbYTIc13jsrh0b3ZS2tc9uYrvQmOjBAXjF35WkWF3wTu4zWWEnuljeqqi3SxUTKwLpxg/s1600/rumah+mode.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTYLtUv9etC87UWEvgy7fE6cgnIIWPghLid-8yHblXfc-7zJ2ryTFOPCJEB_C4ZrVKqRAphT_CbYTIc13jsrh0b3ZS2tc9uYrvQmOjBAXjF35WkWF3wTu4zWWEnuljeqqi3SxUTKwLpxg/s320/rumah+mode.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606248759220705042" /></a><br /><br />After Rumah Mode, we happily and excitedly hopped into one factory outlets after another and shopped like we were married to the Sultan of Brunei till about 6pm, thereafter we proceeded to the much-awaited spa session. God created heaven on earth, and last weekend it came in a form of spa after long hours of shopping. 4 Cik Kiahs decided to continue with pedicure and manicure but 2 other Cik Kiahs decided to continue shopping…moi is one of two who opted to shop instead ngeeeeee (you can tell where my priorities lie eh?). <br /><br />Our shopping spree didn’t end there yet. After the spa we decided to visit Kartika Sari with the pretext of surveying what to get the next day at the factory before we leave for the airport. But we ended up shopping for some cookies and brownies for supper. Had dinner there too although originally we wanted to have Bakso. Rule number 1 – shopping comes first, makan second. That’s exactly what we did! <br /><br />Reached hotel after all shopping outlets were closed (LOL!) and after we freshened up, we gossiped again till 3am while munching on cookies and yummilicious brownies! We laughed so loud that I think everyone on the same floor could hear us. It was really fun girlfriends!<br /><br />Lesson learned on day 2 - Women could plead temporary insanity at shopping complexes, especially when we are in a group (without men or kids stopping us!). Even sleep deprivation won’t stop us from spending our hard earned moolah!<br /><br /><strong>Day 3 – Revelation of a steaming hot secret</strong><br /><br />Again, we started our day super early on the last day. After we visited Kartika Sari factory and bought brownies hot from the oven, and guess what, we unanimously decided to make another trip to Pasar Baru...ngeh ngeh ngeh. I know deep inside the 3 ladies (you know who you are!) were just making excuses to meet the handsome tailor again LOL! We spent our every last penny there. Together, we bought more fabric enough to open another small shop.<br /><br />D'fashion - retail therapy at its best in Bandung #2<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQbVemmRZLrzjTethdEyZh5QeriMazj7TlfZcDr1Otn8Qz8KmyiJXDwga75tV0goBokRdiFnGbcSNsDmCiLC1q9BGXYScKk5cDPgmJ6N0j8Z9_zCnZVg56C39RyAAJlRH1y8g-V6uUkg/s1600/dfashion.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQbVemmRZLrzjTethdEyZh5QeriMazj7TlfZcDr1Otn8Qz8KmyiJXDwga75tV0goBokRdiFnGbcSNsDmCiLC1q9BGXYScKk5cDPgmJ6N0j8Z9_zCnZVg56C39RyAAJlRH1y8g-V6uUkg/s320/dfashion.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606248972811282466" /></a><br /><br />After we were happily broke aka muflis, we headed to the airport with mix feeling – happy to go home to our loved ones and sad to end this wonderful journey with girlfriends. But, every happy ending must come to an end and it was it for us. We made full use of the last hour together at the airport chatting and laughing away as though we own the airport. More secrets revealed and tips shared - Cyberjaya is the word LOL!<br /><br />In total, I only slept for 6 hours (sandwiched between 2 Cik Kiahs whom are not as small as they used to be 20 years ago *peace*) during the entire trip but it was worth it. And the particular Cik Kiah who claimed that she wasn’t gonna shop much was the top spender of the trip, congratulations Mdm. IT! And for that, she was punished by having to pay for access baggage fees for the group...ngeh ngeh ngeh. But of course we will pay her back...moi is equally guilty as charged. I do not wish to elaborate on another incident that took place during check-in...that shall be the joke of the year between the 6 of us LOL! <br /><br />In conclusion, this was the best trip I had in years. We really felt like we were 17 again. And I think I lost a few ounces of my facial fat. Let’s quickly plan for volume 2 peeps!<br /><br />I say nothing beats good company, not even sleep! And I say, only women are capable to pull off something like this, don’t you agree? <br /><br />BFF forevar!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9PWo9QvfjpKx3v9uONEibr5ZVHBWJ4ajOhK_YZOGplCiIJYZxfmVoupwqzt1yoByxxKXsBPjcvuQO8QWqoW_c3E5VS8DdRm-3qcqJbryHPyY02mbHKLZDtGgv0rnjSfd9r4WT3bwDck4/s1600/going+home.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9PWo9QvfjpKx3v9uONEibr5ZVHBWJ4ajOhK_YZOGplCiIJYZxfmVoupwqzt1yoByxxKXsBPjcvuQO8QWqoW_c3E5VS8DdRm-3qcqJbryHPyY02mbHKLZDtGgv0rnjSfd9r4WT3bwDck4/s320/going+home.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606249182178793122" /></a>Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-59211053162624349022011-04-14T18:47:00.007+08:002011-04-27T13:47:56.165+08:00DRIVING LESSON FOR DUMMIESEver since I became a frequent road user during peak hours again, I have this urge to educate fellow Malaysian road users. <br /><br /><strong>10 critical lessons for Malaysian road users</strong>:<br /><br />1. IKUT KIRI JIKA TIDAK MEMOTONG. Memorize this in your head over and over again. If you drive below 110km/hr, please use the left lane.<br /><br />2. Cutting queue is NOT cool - it’s the opposite of cool. It’s super uncool and idiotic. It makes people like me HOT. Remember this in your tiny head - everyone else on the road wants to get to point B as fast as we could too. <br /><br />3. Signaling doesn’t give you the right to simply enter other people’s lane. Follow this sequence – signal, look left or right (whichever direction you are going) and switch lane only if there is no car! <br /><br />4. You are not the only one who pays road tax, others do too. Please be considerate and don’t expect people to give you way unless you have police escort.<br /><br />5. Motorbikes are not meant to enter the right lane unless you drive a superbike that moves as fast, or faster than cars.<br /><br />6. Slowing down to look at an accident (or animals mating at the road side) does not improve you as a person, your karma or your intelligence in anyway whatsoever, unless you plan to stop and help.<br /><br />7. Decide which lane you want to take at least 100meter ahead. It’s best to use your brain wisely (this rule applies at toll booths, traffic light junctions & yang sewaktu dengannya).<br /><br />8. FOCUS when you are on the road. Do not drive when you are hungry, horny, sleepy or have the urge to go to toilet.<br /><br />9. Do not makan jalan. Remember that you are supposed to drive within your lane. There is a reason why the lanes are separated by clear and thick white lines. If you can’t see the lines, you should not be driving at the first place.<br /><br />10. If you can’t stop them, join them – a perfect example would be using the emergency lane during non-emergency times. <br /><br />Note to pedestrians: When crossing a busy road, do not catwalk or lenggang kangkong. Walk as fast as you can. Running is a better option. <br /><br />WassalamGlokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-2935602219010663962011-04-07T18:13:00.007+08:002011-04-08T08:57:58.669+08:00A wedding and a funeralWhat a stark contrast it was for me – 1 week we were celebrating my brother-in-law’s wedding with the whole jing-bang on my husband’s side, and we were burying my nephew the next, on my side of the family. The latter was definitely a solemn affair for the whole family. God knows how sad all of us were (and still are), having to go through such event. In less than 1 short year we lost 2 close family members - my eldest brother and one of his young sons. <br /><br />I’m not good at writing sad stories, in fact, I totally suck at it. I’m struggling to write this piece while fighting back tears so badly. But I want to write about him. I MUST. <br /><br />Muhammad Ismail b. Azman, fondly called Me’e, lived a short life. He was barely 18 the day he died, only a few days after he received his SPM results. He was as healthy as a horse just a few days before he slipped into coma. The saddest thing for me was, of all my 12 nieces and nephews, he was the closest to us and I believe to my parents too. Even my husband cried uncontrollably during his funeral. That’s how big the impact of his lost was to us. <br /><br />He will forever be cherished as a big fella who loved to eat (and could eat an entire cow on his own!), had the sweetest smile, happy go lucky although at times he could be a little bit sensitive, soft hearted and very protective of his siblings. He took after my brother so much, especially when it came to caring for his siblings. I think (actually I KNOW!) I’m not wrong to say that he loved his 3 younger siblings more than his mother ever will, and vice versa. <br /><br />Picture taken during our last family outing in Penang in December last year. Second from right is Me’e, with his closest cousins.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1YIvZ0Ceb39lbgx56cz2UrJFnJvNRaDtnlIbo5kXFaQ_EEaqC7SjT8Al5yGKTg_HngwNagrrGzRmb2AZmX-NSP3-SKN8HUvPbCtNXkHhmf0GL6SY7pm_7JRCa09HraeeoKA4Z_z7A-A/s1600/Pix+from+iPhone+299.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1YIvZ0Ceb39lbgx56cz2UrJFnJvNRaDtnlIbo5kXFaQ_EEaqC7SjT8Al5yGKTg_HngwNagrrGzRmb2AZmX-NSP3-SKN8HUvPbCtNXkHhmf0GL6SY7pm_7JRCa09HraeeoKA4Z_z7A-A/s320/Pix+from+iPhone+299.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592784292287823714" /></a><br /><br />Dalam kenangan... <br />Muhammad Ismail bin Azman (16 October 1993 – 1 April 2011)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMCJ8Zb49qTumbNRupEW6HIMFt9CSimF6S-9hP8MDKbBR3j2ny8do5EsrUwhILhnKlMX8HCsw788A7MqeRvR1eVxzxdrMmqVElN07TZF7bEm8xxf26MO84lXTOI-6OOy6Hw1PVBVeWxAA/s1600/mee.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMCJ8Zb49qTumbNRupEW6HIMFt9CSimF6S-9hP8MDKbBR3j2ny8do5EsrUwhILhnKlMX8HCsw788A7MqeRvR1eVxzxdrMmqVElN07TZF7bEm8xxf26MO84lXTOI-6OOy6Hw1PVBVeWxAA/s320/mee.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592783716545424562" /></a><br />We all miss you so much. May Allah swt grant you Nur in barzah.<br />Al-fatihahGlokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-1051398932425789372011-03-05T23:44:00.005+08:002011-03-06T00:49:59.080+08:00The new more adventurous meI did the unthinkable today (by my very own conservative standard) - cut my hair really short (Halle Berry style) and got it coloured...woot woot! Well done Azura! <br /><br />My hubby is ecstatic with the change (although he has yet to see it) but I know my abah on the other hand, will react otherwise *gulp*. I’m sure you can see how big of an influence my father has in my life. Even after 38years I’m still desperate for his approval. Is this good or bad?<br /><br />And guess what, I also received a fair share of questioning from my second son today. He was bewildered to see my hair in a lighter shade and wasted no time to question whether it is allowed to colour our hair in Islam. See peeps, I have to explain my action to my father, my husband and my kids. It’s not easy to be me eh?<br /><br />The answer to his questions is yes it is allowed (both harus & makruh, depending on the type of colouring done, but haram for temporary dyeing) to colour our hair with any colour but black, and using ingredients that are not haram. I wouldn’t have done it if it’s haram. The intention aka niat too has to be right. In my case, I coloured my hair for myself and at the request of my husband - not to show others (riak) & berhias (tabarruj). Wallahuwa’lam. <br /><br />I’m beginning to love the new more ‘adventurous’ me...I’m lovin’ it! I wonder what’s next...a sports car sound sooo appealing to me right now. Dalam hati ada taman *wink* but dalam pocket belum ada duit *sigh*.<br /><br />I say, I sure hope that this is not a sign of mid-life crisis. I’m way too young for it *denial mode*.Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-51606269139315764302011-02-27T22:43:00.003+08:002011-02-27T22:52:34.432+08:00I wanna be a millionaire so freakin’ bad!A couple of weeks ago my son asked me <em>soalan cepu emas </em>- what would I do if I had RM1million. He really got me thinking because after that I realized that having 1million ringgit is actually not a big deal at all. <br /><br />These days, a nice house costs millions of ringgit, a very nice car that I like so much cost RM650K (if I throw in insurance and road tax, it’ll be a lot more), a really nice handbag would cost tens of thousands of ringgit (and we’d love to have more than 10 right?), children’s education would be in the hundreds of thousands of ringgit each (and I have 4 of them but thank God so far none is interested in doing Medicine...phew! Ahkak tak mampu u’ols), even a decent meal for a family of 6 costs more than RM200. <br /><br />In my own conclusion, 1million is not sufficient to last until the day we die unless you plan to live in a kampong and grow your own vegetable to eat.<br /><br />Nevertheless, I hope to be a millionaire one day. And I promise to spend my money wisely. Note to hubby, please work very very hard and make me a millionaire.<br /><br />I say, I wanna be a millionaire so freakin’ bad...Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-52542635133463748932011-02-27T01:12:00.010+08:002011-02-27T22:50:21.625+08:00Adventure? Perhaps not.I was reading some friends’ blog and was amazed to read how they seem to really enjoy life. Impromptu trips to God know where, makan2 at places unheard of (I have a friend who would make a day trip to JB just for the sake of having itik panggang!), riding on superbike across the country, horse riding in the jungle, supper in the middle of the night, breakfast so early in the morning...you get the idea, right? That certainly got me thinking that my life lacks adventure...sigh!<br /> <br />My life, to say the least, is just plain ordinary. Is it me, is it the husband or is age catching up too fast? The closest I get to adventure is writing in my blog in my bed while watching a movie and sipping a cup of iced Nescafe! What a pathetic life I have huh? Hey, I don’t even go to spa...hahaha. That was my last year’s resolution isn’t it – to visit spa once a month?<br /><br />These days I get tired easily. To go out for supper in the middle of the night is unthinkable. My clock stops at 11pm. I take nap in the afternoon (OMG, I’m turning into my mom!). To go for an impromptu trip out of town is almost impossible for us, I have four kids, one of them as you know it, is an active toddler (who by the way screams at everything) - to get a family of 6+1 on the go without a proper plan is...how do I word this...crazy. To leave them behind is not my style. My conscience would kill what little joy I shall have...double sigh! Oh please don’t make me start on superbike and horse riding, but makan2 at godforsaken place...now that I can handle. But where do I start? My usual makan place is either at 1U, Empire, Subang Parade dan kawasan2 yang sewaktu dengannya...triple sigh! I need help here peeps. <br /><br />I say let’s take it one day at a time. As for now, I am happy with my seemingly non-adventurous life. I therefore conclude that I shall stick to what’s familiar, or should I start taking vitamin supplements? Hurmmmm...perhaps I should.Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-637325361174374182011-02-24T21:29:00.003+08:002011-02-26T23:45:07.995+08:00Public IHL vs Private IHLI’ve been wanting to write this piece for quite a while. But the thought of the extra ‘effort’ I need to put into writing this article has put me off till now. Time is really a luxury for me these days...sigh.<br /><br />After my SPM years ago - when I was a clueless 17 years old - all I wanted to do was to study abroad. My direction was clear, to go abroad come what may. At that point of my life, the farthest place I had been to on earth was KL, and that was not enough for me. I wanted to see the world, go places I had not been before and learn things I can’t possibly learn here. For once in my life, I wanted to be independent. My parents who were fully aware of my rebellious nature knew me too well to go against my will.<br /><br />I had my way at last. I had the opportunity of a lifetime to study abroad, and like people say, the rest is history. I am glad that I chose this path. Should I decide otherwise, I will not be the person I am today. <br /><br />My eldest son Daniel will soon graduate from secondary school and move on to his tertiary studies. In less than 2 years, we will be at a cross road in deciding his study options. The truth is, I wish he could win a full scholarship from Cambridge, then further his Masters in Harvard or MIT and get his doctorate from Al-Azhar. In an ideal world, that would be any mother’s dream. <br /><br />Unfortunately, we live in a real world. And to expect that from our sons is too ‘cruel’ and unkind, although it’s not impossible. <br /><br />Just to share a true story, a Taylor’s A Level student secured a full scholarship from Cambridge University to read Law after her graduation at Taylor’s. After she completed her degree at Cambridge, Harvard offered her a full scholarship to do her Masters there. Upon completion of her Masters, Cambridge University once again offered her a fellowship for her PhD. I had tears in my eyes when I learned about her success story, really! I get super emotional when I hear this sort of stories...ahkak sedih campur bangga gittew taww. <br /><br />In the past, for us (the general Malay population), we had only 2 options - public universities or study abroad. Private education was never an option for us. These days securing a government scholarship is not as easy as it was 15 years ago – the quantum has decreased significantly hence the awarding bodies have become very selective, leaving us with lesser options. I would love to send my children to study abroad but when money is concerned, if they can’t get a full or at least partial scholarship, I can’t afford to spend hundreds of thousands of ringgit to send them abroad. Did you know that to send your child to study medicine for 2.5 years in the UK, you need to fork up almost RM800K (including living expenses)? You may have that much money, but I unfortunately, don’t. I very the poor you know...<br /><br />Hence, for people like me who are neither millionaires nor hardcore poor (i.e. the group of people that often receive the least attention), we need to have more options. This is where Private Institution of Higher Learning (IHL) comes into play. <br /><br />20 years ago, private colleges/ universities were perceived as colleges for either rich kids or worse, rejects. But that was 20 years ago. Private colleges have come a long way since then. In fact today, some of these colleges has evolved into full fledge universities offering far better and greater infrastructure and academic quality than those of public universities. <br /><br />If you asked me, between sending my kids to public universities and private universities, I’d rather send them to private uni and pay a good sum of money for their education. Why? Statistic has shown that employers prefer students from selected private universities than those from public universities - a known fact in the industry. They are in greater demand because they have all the aptitudes that employers look for: well-rounded, soft skill and better prepared for the working world. Graduates from private IHL generally command higher salary than their counterparts from public uni too. On top of that classes are conducted in English. Need I say more? <br /><br />I am fortunate enough to have the opportunity to work in Malaysia’s top Private IHL and to be able to experience for myself how the institution strives to provide a wholesome learning experience and the best learning infrastructure for students. Private IHLs like Taylor’s is no longer an exclusive university for rich kids but a university for high achievers. Did you know that JPA, MARA and other sponsoring bodies like Petronas, Felda, Bank Negara, Sime Darby and the likes now send their sponsored students to private IHLs? There are plenty of them at Taylor’s. Did you also know that these days Public IHLs are going after lecturers from Private IHLs, instead of the other way around? <br /><br />The trend now is more and more Malays (and sponsors too) are sending their children to Private unis, including the top guns in the Ministry of Higher Education itself! You can trust me on this one peeps, I am so not joking. It speaks volumes of the quality of education at Private unis doesn’t it?<br /><br />But please don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting that Public IHL is inferior in anyway but I strongly believe that they could learn a thing or two from Private IHLs. It’s time to shift the paradigm – it’s been long overdue. <br /><br />I say where our children are concerned, we always want the best for them. However, the subject matter is very subjective. So let’s not be so judgmental.Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-60967847136030126382011-02-20T01:14:00.007+08:002011-02-27T01:33:16.998+08:00Kids say the darndest thingI came across the following as I was reading some stuff on the internet. Very funny...which reminds me of a story about a 16-year old school boy from Kuantan who represented the state of Pahang in a National Science Competition many years ago. In the final round, the judge asked him "What is Diabetes?", not knowing the correct answer he replied "Sakit badan". Go ahead and laugh....teeheehee. As you'd have guessed it, his team lost in the final round to the team from Kedah. The boy later became a top scorer in his SPM exams and went on to study Chemical Engineering abroad and married a beautiful and equally intelligent maiden from Kedah. They now have 4 kids together. Sakit-sakit badan huh...Thank God this young chap didn't choose Medicine as his career. <br /><br />Now back to the funny stuff. The following questions were answered by 16 years old kids in Canada for their GED examination:<br /><br />Q. Name the four seasons.<br />A. Salt, pepper, mustard and vinegar<br /><br />Q. Explain one of the processes by which water can be made safe to drink.<br />A. Flirtation makes water safe to drink because it removes large pollutants like grit, sand, dead sheep and canoeists<br /><br />Q. How is dew formed?<br />A. The sun shines down on the leaves and makes them perspire<br /><br />Q. What causes the tides in the oceans?<br />A. The tides are a fight between the earth and the moon. All water tends to flow towards the moon, because there is no water on the moon, and nature abhors a vacuum. I forget where the sun joins the fight<br /><br />Q. What guarantees may a mortgage company insist on?<br />A. If you are buying a house they will insist that you are well endowed<br /><br />Q. In a democratic society, how important are elections?<br />A. Very important. Sex can only happen when a male gets an election<br /><br />Q. What are steroids?<br />A. Things for keeping carpets still on the stairs<br /><br />Q.. What happens to your body as you age?<br />A. When you get old, so do your bowels and you get intercontinental<br /><br />Q. What happens to a boy when he reaches puberty?<br />A. He says goodbye to his boyhood and looks forward to his adultery<br /><br />Q. What is artificial insemination?<br />A. When the farmer does it to the bull instead of the cow<br /><br />I say, if you didn't laugh reading the answers, you have definitely lost your sense of humour. <br /><br />Q. How can you delay milk turning sour?<br />A. Keep it in the cow<br /><br />Q. How are the main 20 parts of the body categorised (e.g. The abdomen)?<br />A. The body is consisted into 3 parts - the brainium, the borax and the abdominal cavity. The brainium contains the brain, the borax contains the heart and lungs and the abdominal cavity contains the five bowels: A,E,I,O,U.<br /><br />Q. What is the fibula?<br />A. A small lie<br /><br />Q. What does 'varicose' mean?<br />A. Nearby<br /><br />Q. What is the most common form of birth control?<br />A. Most people prevent contraception by wearing a condominium<br /><br />Q. Give the meaning of the term 'Caesarean section'<br />A. The caesarean section is a district in Rome<br /><br />Q. What is a seizure?<br />A. A Roman Emperor.<br /><br />Q. What is a terminal illness?<br />A. When you are sick at the airport. <br /><br />Q. Give an example of a fungus. What is a characteristic feature?<br />A. Mushrooms. They always grow in damp places and they look like umbrellas<br /><br />Q. Use the word 'judicious' in a sentence to show you understand its meaning<br />A. Hands that judicious can be soft as your face. <br /><br />Q. What does the word 'benign' mean?<br />A. Benign is what you will be after you be eight<br /><br />Q. What is a turbine?<br />A. Something an Arab or Shreik wears on his head<br /><br />I say if you didn't find this funny at all, you have certainly lost your sense of humor...Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-4588533520316068262011-02-20T00:57:00.005+08:002011-02-20T02:33:53.248+08:001-800-CALL MAMAOn Thursday, as I was driving home at 7pm, I got a call from Nana asking whether she could attend her friend’s birthday party over the weekend. The conversation went on for quite a while as I was asking her where the party is going to be held bla bla bla. Fyi, she doesn’t know where it will be held yet but insisted on going nevertheless. So I told her to ask her friend at school the next day. <br /><br />After I hung up, I realized that it was perhaps the 8th call I received from home that day. They - my kids - would call every day asking and reporting about anything and everything under the sun in real time, no exception whatsoever. The first call would come at 11am every day without fail from Nana and this would go on until I reach home late in the evening. Even the little sweat Pea would also want to say something over the phone, in her own alien language of course. <br /><br />On top of phone calls, I also received numerous text messages from the kids. The top sms sender is Kyle. He’d send sms asking just about anything from a meaning of a word he just came across or asking for help with his homework. Just the other say he sent me an sms asking for the meaning of the word ‘blacklisted’. Curious, I immediately call wanting to know why, and much to my relief he came across the word on TV...phew! For once I thought I got blacklisted for doing something against the law!<br /><br />Well, ladies and gentlemen, I now officially operate a hotline. Call mama whenever you are in doubt! Hahaha. Admittedly, I do get annoyed sometimes but most of the times they make me laugh. They made my day with their calls. This whole non-stop phone call business makes me feel like I am the single most important person on earth. I honestly hope that they’d never stop calling, forever and ever okay! Keep the calls coming kiddos. <br /><br />I say (not that it’s a contest) mothers always win hands down. There’s a reason why the first word is always ‘ma ma’.Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-47020821038111613792011-02-01T17:19:00.007+08:002011-02-02T12:59:47.913+08:00I'm no supermomYou wouldn’t believe how much I miss writing in this space. I know it may sound weird, but I really do miss writing here as much as I miss going out for coffee with girlfriends. [Note to self: must find time to blog]<br /><br />Blogging didn’t just help keep my sanity intact during my 2.5 years ‘tenure’ as a full time mom to 4 very healthy, active and curious kids, but it also kept me relevant throughout the break. Suffice to say that my 2 years of ‘practicing’ my writing here has actually borne some fruits – writing comes more naturally to me now than before. As an icing on the cake, words spread and I actually got a couple of writing jobs from people who read my blog. Not so bad huh? I am glad that I indulged myself in blogging.<br /><br />It’s been almost 4 weeks since I came back to work full-time (time flies huh?). I am still getting used to the new routine – leave home before 8am and (trying my best) reach home before 8pm. On my first day at work, I left the office at 8pm (yes, no joke here peeps). That’s what you get when you joined a company that you are so familiar with – there's no such thing as ‘getting to know’ the company or induction whatsoever, you get loaded on your first day because they know what you are capable of delivering based on your track record. <br /><br />For that, I am so grateful that I left the company in good terms. I have received such warm welcome upon my return from every one, particularly my boss. Many, including all the Os of the company, came to see me personally to welcome me back. I feel so blessed, Alhamdulillah. At least I don’t have to struggle so hard to start over. <br /><br />Being a working mom also means less time to do things that I enjoy, cooking for example. Since I started working, I’ve only cook like 5 times, or maybe less. Eating out has become part of our routine, which I actually don’t quite fancy. I don’t like the fact that I don’t have control over the food I eat and the food I feed my children, the health aspect of it that is. Having said that, I am not attempting to be a supermom (I know I can never ever be one and I don’t wanna die trying, drama momma suits me better lah), hence compromise has to be made and eating out it is for the time being.<br /><br />My husband is also getting used to not having home-cooked meal at home whenever he’s around. He hopes (and I am desperately hoping so too!) that it’ll work to his advantage because he is eating less nowadays. He kept blaming me for his substantial weight gain over the past 2 years. Now that I seldom cook anymore, let's see whether he'll lose some inches. But I take comfort in him eating more when I cook and less when others did. It seems like “the way to a man's heart is through his stomach” has work pretty well for me...wheeeee! <br /><br />On another note, Daniel’s application to enter SBP was successful Alhamdulillah, but my husband and I have unanimously decided NOT to send him to the school. We want to keep him at home for as long as we could, which annoys the little brother who wishes to send his big bro off to a boarding school far away from home...hahaha! I am 100% sure that I’ve made the best decision in his interest. Unless he was admitted to MCKK or yang sewaktu dengannya, I don’t think he would be better off there then he is now. I understand his needs more than anyone else in this world (this is perhaps the over-protective side of me talking *grin*). I get to keep him for another 2 years, yeay!! On the other hand, this boy is getting too expensive for me to keep...hmmmm<br /><br />I say live up to your own expectation, measure up to your potential. Don’t try to do things beyond your reach, unless you plan to live a short life. I'm no supermom.Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-35977816929091345762011-01-16T00:25:00.011+08:002011-01-20T17:52:55.461+08:00Nana made Mama go bananaI'm in the mood to write, hence I'm gonna write another entry tonight. <br /><br />My first daughter entered Primary 1 this year. I was all jittery a week before schools open. She was so cool but I on the other hand, was a nervous wreck. Nervous because I worried that she couldn't adapt to the school environment with over 400 students in Primary 1 alone (There are 10 Primary 1 classes of 40 or 41 students in her school!). Nervous because my girl doesn't know how to use squatting toilet (trust me, I'm not joking!) and she hates dirty toilet (she would rather hold her urine if the toilet is slightly dirty or even wet). Nervous because she's used to learning in English and now she has to learn in Bahasa. Nervous because she is so fragile and because she has to take school van to school.<br /><br />To my surprise, merely a week after school starts she assimilated well into Primary 1 at the over-crowded school far better than I had expected. She used the school toilet on the fifth day of school. She even refuses to bring food to school for recess because she wants to buy food at the canteen. She hasn't complaints about school, yet. Alhamdulillah. <br /><br />And when you pray for something, insyaAllah, Allah will show you the way. Alhamdulillah, a friend of mine offered to fetch Nana to and fro school. I couldn't express how much I am thankful for her offer. Thank you for the bottom of my heart Sue!!! I sleep better these days knowing that she doesn't have to walk out of school all by herself and find her van amidst a sea of people (you wouldn't believe the amount of students at her school and the number parents who crowd the school compound to fetch their children).<br /><br />I can see her bright future. My girl is not that fragile after all. I see me in her. I know she could do great things in her life, just like I did *grin*. <br /><br />I say we need to have more convictions on our own children. They could do far greater things than we could imagine. After all we are the ones rocking the cradle :-) <br /><br />Nana during her first recess at school.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEdummGNekg0JQjnKttXLfCSzU6cT6Wm9Ne4gAyxjCKgkb06RauMBJd1fUkJ7fCO8JQOkqu4mLngOFpS-7cx-Rx34Fn71r_DdNYgZrBye2pKXuHg_SRH-kLBK04vfC05zj7XEXGUzbbKI/s1600/IMG_0800%255B1%255D"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEdummGNekg0JQjnKttXLfCSzU6cT6Wm9Ne4gAyxjCKgkb06RauMBJd1fUkJ7fCO8JQOkqu4mLngOFpS-7cx-Rx34Fn71r_DdNYgZrBye2pKXuHg_SRH-kLBK04vfC05zj7XEXGUzbbKI/s320/IMG_0800%255B1%255D" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562458982935505442" /></a><br /><br />The sea of parents who came to see how their kids do during recess on the first day! <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy3pIf-Q4ojNzFqsUg6Z59GR5Ss6Cmek3irgmwCTwVTe0RvmEgHSvM860gi-lEYxNmcSRAfXaeIdQ0TjOCwX0jLvK4ICW4slDnGN6SBMk6PQj6MJcXfE_IZMEzRQDTCt-LXYCanilgtWA/s1600/IMG_0805%255B1%255D"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy3pIf-Q4ojNzFqsUg6Z59GR5Ss6Cmek3irgmwCTwVTe0RvmEgHSvM860gi-lEYxNmcSRAfXaeIdQ0TjOCwX0jLvK4ICW4slDnGN6SBMk6PQj6MJcXfE_IZMEzRQDTCt-LXYCanilgtWA/s320/IMG_0805%255B1%255D" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562459846738761954" /></a>Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-80983870925854528612011-01-15T23:34:00.005+08:002011-01-16T22:41:26.644+08:00The greatest gift yetIt's been a while since I last wrote in this space. Making preparations for back to school for 3 kids ain't easy. It consumes all your energy, really! Not to mention your money too *gasp*. After back to school, it was back to work for me. It was fun nonetheless shopping for back to work. This one I don't mind draining all my energy into at all...hehehe. Who wouldn't right? Anyone who says that he/she doesn't like shopping is a big fat liar. Liar liar pants on fire!!!<br /><br />Anyway, just to back track a little bit. My eldest son delivered my birthday present 8 days after my 38th birthday in December – in a form of As, 8 to be exact. Alhamdulillah syukur ke hadrat Allah s.w.t. Daniel passed his PMR exams with flying colors. Best of all, ALL but 1 of his very close friends scored 8As – that 1 friend scored 7As and 1B. I found this to be quite amazing. Again, Alhamdulillah. 71 students from his school scored 8As, most of them are girls (I wonder are girls smarter than boys or girls are more hard-working? Thought provoking eh?). Congrats to my nephew Azani who scored straight As too. <br /> <br />Daniel and his close buddies who all passed with flying colours. I am sooo proud of them! (These few kids spent lotsa time at my home, ate food that I cook and breath the air in my house - what I am actually trying to say is I have some contribution in them scoring straight As...ngeh ngeh ngeh, boleh?) <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVtzb27b-UaNP4uBXU8EhhdIb5bss6exYra0RMhCWnXV7ca0o4Dy_a_bfjyu5XBxdR-sw4x9wKnPEH_NB3_BdfyyM1lArPHZpfMA7DxYqDdPsH-ig_F74v63i9GagSQAzZtiEBCdHc43E/s1600/IMG_0783%255B1%255D"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVtzb27b-UaNP4uBXU8EhhdIb5bss6exYra0RMhCWnXV7ca0o4Dy_a_bfjyu5XBxdR-sw4x9wKnPEH_NB3_BdfyyM1lArPHZpfMA7DxYqDdPsH-ig_F74v63i9GagSQAzZtiEBCdHc43E/s320/IMG_0783%255B1%255D" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562443542816117874" /></a><br /><br />Although Daniel didn’t put much effort into preparing for the exams (it’s actually close to a miracle that he scored straight As) I was confident enough that he would deliver the results. In all honestly, I’d be furious if he didn’t. I have high expectation for him (and all my children for that matter). At this point, I’d like to claim all credits for his brainy brain. Remember what I wrote earlier about smart mothers and smart children (see previous post)? At least I can now say that all the ugly stretch marks are worth it...wheeee! <br /><br />Speaking of expectation, sometimes I wonder, is it right for parents to expect highly of their children? I expect all my children to be smart. I expect all of them to study abroad and become successful people, dunia dan akhirat. It is because of this super high expectation that I can’t never teach my own children. My blood would ‘go upstairs’ every time they didn’t get my explanation the first time. The same goes for my husband. Even Mr. Cool Guy couldn’t teach his own children – we both lack the patient because of our high expectation. <br /><br />I know that this is certainly not healthy but I just couldn't help it. I expect my kids to know algebra since birth...hahaha. This momma is so the over the top gittew kan. <br /><br />Anyway, Daniel is anxiously waiting for the result of his application to enter boarding school. Although I did try to sabotage his applications, my doa to Allah is to give him the best. If going to a boarding school is the best for him, I will accept it, but if it isn't, we'll make the best of it. But in all honestly, if you asked me, I'd say that I prefer him to be with me at home *grin*. Over the top and selfish...bravo momma!<br /><br />I say at some point of our lives, we need to learn to let go of certain things we hold so dear. I hope I will be brave enough to let a part of me go when the time comes... <br /><br />Happy 2011 everyone!Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-14556747092420608722010-12-19T21:38:00.005+08:002010-12-20T01:13:28.199+08:00When life gives you lemonMy dear hubby left for another long biz trip early this morning and somehow today I feel so ‘empty’ and lonely (please take note that this is NOT statement beli jiwa taww). The house suddenly feels so quiet and lifeless even when all the kids are around. I miss him terribly and it’s not even 24 hours yet! Why lah? Is it weather? Yes, let’s blame it on the cold and gloomy weather...ngeeee. <br /><br />I’m counting down to so many things as we speak – PMR results will be announced in exactly 4 days *dup dap dup dap*, Nana’s first day in Primary1 in about 3 weeks time *double dup dap dup dap* and moi going back to work a week after that *gulp*. I still can’t believe that I’m going back to WORK soon (somebody pinch me please!). <br /><br />I have to admit that though I feel sad that I will have significantly less time to spend with my kiddos – Brilliant Big D who will be sitting for his possibly life-changing exams in 2 years time, smarty-pants Kyle who is going through a clueless phase, my closeted smart girl Nana, and especially my Terrible Two who is in the ‘I-don’t-wanna-put-on-my-diaper-but-don’t-wanna-pee-in-the-toilet’ phase – I actually look forward to working again. My heart is actually bursting with excitement. Weird huh? I honestly hope that this doesn’t make me a bad mom. <br /><br />I recently told someone close to me that when life gives you lemon, you make lemonades. Make the best of what you have instead of complaining about it. I say, my lemonade is in progress and I hope it’ll be a sweet one.Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-50928201091923117232010-12-15T01:12:00.005+08:002010-12-16T13:52:46.052+08:00I'm 38!The clock just ticked 15 minutes past 1am. It’s my 38th birthday today and here I am in front of my notebook, blogging in the wee hours. Everyone else in the house is sound asleep. Birthday wishes have started coming on my FB wall. I feel so loved already...hihihi.<br /><br />I just finished watching The Social Network at the cinema on the eve of my 38th birthday with my husband. What a way to kick start a new beginning to a 38-year-old me. Love the movie! I have one question though – are those guys at Harvard really THAT smart? I was dumbfounded to see how Mark created a program in a jiff, hacked systems spontaneously, used algorithm to map out programming language (or something like that. I’m not that smart okay.), etc. This guy is a damn smart fella I tell ya. What did his mother feed him when he was a baby??? <br /><br />Owh, just to digress a little bit, studies have shown that babies born to smart MOTHERS are smart. Men are advised to find themselves smart wives if they wish to have smarter children. See the direct correlation? If your children are smart, it's YOU, not your hubby okay. Take all the credits to yourselves, we have scientific evidents to prove it! <br /><br />Anyway, back to moi turning 38 (38 is a good number don't you think?). I wish for a better life in the years to come. One that would bring more happiness, tranquility, peace, prosperity, wisdom, good health and a blessed life from the Almighty. I have a lot to be thankful for in the last 38 years of my life and I am counting my blessings every day. Thank you Allah. <br /><br />People say wisdom comes with age. I say, I sure hope it’s true, otherwise growing old doesn't come with a perk.Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-21221774182791288182010-12-14T18:25:00.007+08:002010-12-22T18:45:46.790+08:00Kyle Harris is 10!Last weekend we celebrated Kyle’s 10th birthday. I do not wish lie by saying that I didn’t feel guilty with the ‘no birthday present’ punishment. I did, really bad. Nonetheless, being a strict mom that I am, I must stick to my decision. But I told him that if he could bring home very good result in the first semester exams, I’d make it up to him. He’ll get that expensive toy he’s been eyeing for. I'm not that evil after all kan.<br /><br />We celebrated his birthday a day earlier on Saturday as we had a family commitment that we can’t get out of (a kenduri that we MUST attend on my hubby’s side) on his birthday. As usual, he picked Chilli’s (again and again). And after the kenduri on Sunday, we had another celebration at home. I baked a cake for him (my first ever homemade birthday cake y'all!). He loves vanilla and chocolate cake. Hence, moi being a very resourceful mom gittew (LOL!), baked a vanilla caked with chocolate frosting, smart eh? Bought some pizzas and voila we had a small party at home. <br /><br />My homemade birthday cake...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOmbHrYDFzMVVRLNtp2ss7VFgz5f2KWdD1BA5Nc7hbSupqJWmvasix1SdHoCC6ffLoicDDTxaBTiI9_7zz_f56OhNm6O9IiftB9pzriCAHyg2r60sw3ZgA9mMh4O8PDmKwOmx-kxVOo70/s1600/SSC_3527.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOmbHrYDFzMVVRLNtp2ss7VFgz5f2KWdD1BA5Nc7hbSupqJWmvasix1SdHoCC6ffLoicDDTxaBTiI9_7zz_f56OhNm6O9IiftB9pzriCAHyg2r60sw3ZgA9mMh4O8PDmKwOmx-kxVOo70/s320/SSC_3527.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550486930893880674" /></a><br /><br />The birthday boy and his cake<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihBh4KHXFvl347cICZHbziPmYI27tvDVIYANRKhXylf9t5dLwUjbKQ8n2_D4N5KZq9L4sFCTECfGN5PXubOsD3YLfF1SoV_GMHRCEYuFJASusgcC48WklLnJhz-2gH7fLl674ZG07F50k/s1600/SSC_3526.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihBh4KHXFvl347cICZHbziPmYI27tvDVIYANRKhXylf9t5dLwUjbKQ8n2_D4N5KZq9L4sFCTECfGN5PXubOsD3YLfF1SoV_GMHRCEYuFJASusgcC48WklLnJhz-2gH7fLl674ZG07F50k/s320/SSC_3526.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550486801800968274" /></a><br /><br />Kyle Harris, at 10 years old, is heavier than me by a good 10kg. I bet in a few months time, he’ll be taller than me too. He used to be able to fit into my t-shirts. Now, they are too small for him. His front teeth are no longer too big for him. They were when he was 9. His dimples have started to disappear because he has grown so chubby over the years. He hates local food. His favourite food is Italian, anything Italian, but mac and cheese in particular (opps, this is American right?). He loves guns, weaponry, cars and everything related to army and weapons of mass destruction. Loves sciences documentaries, Chuck Norris and iCarly (iCarly comes as a shock to me. Such a sharp contrast from all his other favorites). He wants to be an engineer, one that involves weaponry. Seldom missed his prayers and often the one who’d remind his brother to pray. But most importantly, he doesn't realize how smart he is yet. <br /><br />Happy 10th birthday Kyle Harris! May you grow up menjadi anak yang soleh, berjaya di dunia dan akhirat, dan kepada agama, bangsa dan negara, insyaAllah. I love you with all my hearts son.Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-52829077953733017002010-12-14T17:37:00.006+08:002010-12-15T02:22:47.092+08:00The end of an era, the beginning of anotherA few years ago I kept telling myself that I needed a well deserved break...a loooong one that is. And Moi, being a determined woman that I was, followed my heart and went for it. The timing was just perfect, I was expecting my fourth child, Nana was starting kindergarten and we just moved to a bigger place in a very nice neighborhood. <br /><br />Now, 2.5 years later, I am beginning to feel that I have enough, in fact too much, break. So much so that it makes me feel rather useless, worthless, unproductive (dan yang sewaktu dengannya) because I could actually contribute significantly to the household income with my talents (this is me trying to make me feel useful and important again *grin*). I seriously feel that I am wasting my knowledge and over time it’s beginning to rust, slowly but surely. I do not just want to confine my talents to just writing brochures and press releases for the rest of my life. Not to mention the low self-esteem moments that would come and go whenever I see fellow friends are moving forward and upward career-wise. I want to feel important again! <br /><br />I still remember how it feels at the end of every month when my hard earned money was wired into my bank account. It felt superb. It felt like I have done something significant for myself. It felt like I was alive. It felt I was doing my part building the nation (alamak too much pulak ahkak ni kan). Spending our own hard earned money also felt equally superb, doesn't it? Guess what, I miss that feeling. As silly as I may sound, I feel that I must go back to work to feel alive again while my brain is still intact (and still in good working condition too). <br /> <br />And the timing is just perfect, Daniel has sat for his PMR, Nana is going to Primary 1, Sophie is no longer depending on me for nutrition as I had successfully weaned her off breastfeeding (yeay!) plus a system has already been put in place at home. My maid could work on ‘auto pilot’ mode when I am not around. She’s efficient enough to handle things at home on her own (she’s a godsend I tell ya!). In fact, she's better at managing the household chores than moi...hahaha. I totally suck at it!<br /><br />Hence, on Thursday last week I made the biggest move of the century by calling my previous employer to let them know that I have decided to go back to work in early 2011. Sure enough, my ex-boss called me almost instantly after she was informed of my decision. A job was offered to me and Alhamdulillah it comes with a much better salary package *smiling away*. It was that easy, all it takes was a phone call and a job was offered at once. I couldn't believe it was that easy! <br /><br />But, truth be told, I kinda expected it to be that easy. She’s been asking me to come back to work for her for ages and I knew that her offer is always open. What can I say, she is my biggest fan ever gittew...ngeh ngeh ngeh (perasan la pulak ahkak ni kan. Kasi chan boleh?).<br /><br />InsyaAllah, if I didn’t change my mind at the last minute and if everything goes as planned, I’ll be closing another chapter in my life as a freelance writer (and also a tai-tai wannabe who failed miserably, LOL!) and starting a new one as a Corporate Communications Manager. I shall report for duty on 10/1/2011.<br /><br />I say when you tried very hard to be something that you are not cut out for; at one point you should just stop trying. Perhaps it's just not meant to be. Bye bye tai-taihood, hello corporate world!Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-69130440827092578042010-12-03T13:35:00.006+08:002010-12-07T17:00:08.414+08:00A new heightThings didn’t go as I planned this week, but thankfully it turned out for the better. Completed a new job, and for the first time in my short career as a freelance writer, I charged the customer RM200/page of copywriting. And mind you it’s 12-font size with double spacing okay! I know...I can’t believe it either! I’m darn proud of myself. Syukur Alhamdulillah.<br /><br />This has undoubtedly taken me into a new height (tolong beri laluan untuk ahkak nak syok sendiri kejap okay). Next year, I’m planning to register a company (an Enterprise), get myself a fax machine and start selling Glokalmama Communications. I was once told that one could earn up to RM15K a month as a translator (for real?). If so, I wanna quickly get myself certified as one also ler. Hopefully by early next year I could get all of these done. RM15K/month is a lot of moolah u’ols. <br /><br />Since I am in such a good mood today (although I still have one outstanding job to complete), I’m baking an orange chocolate cake later...lalalalala. <br /><br />I say never underestimate your own talents and capabilities. I’ve been selling myself short all these while, it’s time for me to start demanding what I’m worth...because I’m worth it (ehehehehe boleh ka gittew?). Happy weekend everyone.Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-749576573236210902010-11-23T15:54:00.015+08:002010-11-25T17:04:45.934+08:00Another sad day for MalaysiansI am about to immerse myself with work but I just have to write this entry first before my momentum wears off again. <br /><br />Yesterday I saw this Air Asia X ad in The Star (full page advertisement). Tadaaa!!! <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcjhgu3llOhPJDtxQO6v2hiVvvEmK8962zPBFIdOuI99Zw3EkVP7aW3x8s7GF-pj5YU3ZNGG3w2ERziN1ZIha7zFD6wDHv8Gs5fzi_9ejlK6GTzR5zoIjjM0ZmwxGGNSv76-I4ULlumLA/s1600/air+asia.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcjhgu3llOhPJDtxQO6v2hiVvvEmK8962zPBFIdOuI99Zw3EkVP7aW3x8s7GF-pj5YU3ZNGG3w2ERziN1ZIha7zFD6wDHv8Gs5fzi_9ejlK6GTzR5zoIjjM0ZmwxGGNSv76-I4ULlumLA/s320/air+asia.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542656164304633170" /></a><br /><br />Moi, being a very conservative person, feel somewhat offended by this particular ad. Do you? I ask myself yesterday, when did Malaysia becomes so open about two people kissing openly? What kind of messages are we sending to the kids by showing this ad in a local daily? Gosh, I have goosebumps each time I think about where Malaysia is heading, particularly when I have 4 kids under my care. <br /><br />7 years ago when I was working with Parkson Corp. the rules and regulation pertaining to the media was still very strict. An ad can’t show one’s armpit or show too much skin, much less show 2 people in a compromising position. But today, I don’t think these rules even apply anymore. Everything can go lah. With new media taking over the mainstream media as the most popular medium of advertisement and getting your daily dose of news, everything is possible. Just look at the ads on the right hand panel of Facebook. You could even see foul language being used in selling sexual enhancement products, etc. that are not suitable for audience under the age of 25. And our 10 year old kids are on FB! <br /><br />PDA (that's Public Display of Affection, not Personal Digital Assistant ok!) is so common amongst local youngsters these days, particularly budak2 Melayu. We have lots of things to thank for that, amongst them are our local artists with their skimpy dress hugging and kissing each other openly. It's like a public service message to the young generation to say that "It's OK to do that." There are also the idiot box aka the TV to thank for. Even kids channels like Nickelodeon and Disney air stories stories that I don't approve of. A few months ago, I had a shock of my life when I saw a 10 year old kids with "In a relationship with xxx" status in FB. Astaghfirullahala'zim. <br /><br />It's even sadder to see some Malay Muslims who proclaim themselves as the "Modern Malays", sipping a glass of wine openly and proudly, etc. (you know what I mean right?). When I was still working, I felt so offended when I was labelled as modern Malay - simply because of my dressing style! There wasn't a tiny bit of pride when people said that of me. <br /><br />Going forward does not necessarily mean that we have to abandon our culture and adopt what most people think is ‘modern’. Progressive does not equate to freedom. And freedom often comes with a hefty price. I hope our kids will not be the ones paying the price, nau’zubillah.<br /><br />I laud Brunei for standing strong on its policy for not allowing liquor to be sold in its land and gambling activities to be held in the oil-rich country. And I curse the media for making a mockery of their stand on it (you should read what The Star wrote about this issue). They do not bow to the pressure of modernisation like us, bravo! I laud countries like Saudi, Pakistan, Iran, Bangladesh who have banned Facebook in their country. If one were to conduct a study on the effect of Facebook to humankind, I betcha it’s more cons than pros. I am willing to bet my life on it. <br /><br />Just a few days ago our Police force announced the opening of a mock casino to train its personnel to be good at gambling, all in the name of crime fighting. This just doesn't make any sense to me. Must they waste taxpayers' money to build a mock casino? Perhaps next when they want to seriously fight prostitution they need to build a mock brothel with real prostitutes in it. Or build a mock drug-lab to fight drug trafficking. Could someone please enlighten me on this one? I just don't get it! Especially when gambling is prohibited in Islam and we know for a fact that most police personnel are Muslims! Menghalalkan yang haram in the name of fighting crimes? Hello!!!<br /><br />This is the price of modernization we Malaysians have to pay indeed. I can't help but wonder whether next year, an Armani underwear ad showing a steamy David Beckham would be printed in The Star (sorry ahkak off track sikit, LOL!).<br /><br />I say yesterday was another sad day for Malaysia. It’s a start of a new wave of change on the advertisement front. A sad sad day indeed...Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-68253581889700101932010-11-22T14:18:00.005+08:002010-11-23T10:50:33.760+08:00Cuti sekolah datang lagi!Horayyyy...it’s finally here again! I’m sure many moms like me rejoice at the arrival of the long awaited school holiday. Lotsa things are on my mind this school holiday, there are so many things I wanna do with the kids but unfortunately Mr. Provider aka the hubby has to be away (again and again and again) for at least 2 weeks in December, travelling to a godforsaken country. I say godforsaken because he’s travelling to, of all places in the world, Nigeria! The last time he was there about a year ago, his 8-day trip had to be extended to 15 days because things work in s l o w m o t i o n there. I’m praying hard that this 2-week trip would not be extended to 3. After the trip he’s supposed to be in Libya for another week. But I’m praying very hard that this trip will be postponed to next year...hihihi *evil laugh*. <br /><br />So that left me with nothing much to plan. We can’t go holidaying without him, can we? After all he’s the paymaster! The only thing I look forward to is my trip back to my mom’s. InsyaAllah I’m going back with the kids (minus the kids’ father) mid of next week. We might stay there a little bit longer than usual as the person with work commitment is not joining us this time *sob sob sob*. <br /><br />This long holiday would be Nana’s last before she embarks on a new chapter in her life – primary school. Next year she’ll be joining 39 other kids in her class. At the time I registered her at the school I was told there will be about (if my memory serves me right) 10 classes of P1. I wonder how would she survive amongst so many peers. But I have faith in her. I know she could do it! Mini Me is going to Primary 1. Time flies huh? Before I know it, I’ll be preparing for her wedding pulak. Can growing up please take a break?<br /><br />We are also anxiously waiting for Dan’s PMR result come end December. Frankly, I’m not expecting the world from him. He only put 50% effort into it despite my endless nagging. I think I put more effort in praying for him than him studying *sigh*. I recited surah yassin twice a day when he was sitting for his PMR - once in the morning when he sat for his first paper and once in the afternoon when he sat for his 2nd; performed solat hajat; and countless doa. Anyway, PMR is not the end of the world but SPM is *momma in denial mode gittew*. I shall drill him to his last sweat from next year onwards. Be prepared my son, Momma will turn into a drill sergeant tak bertauliah come next year...ngeh3x.<br /><br />The engineer-to-be Kyle is getting a 'severe' punishment this year. His results has been slipping over the year, although his class teacher assured me that he I have nothing to worry about (really?). I have decided (and managed to convince my hubby, who reluctantly agreed to it) not to give him a birthday present this year. I have taken away the 1 thing that he looks forward to every year – an expensive birthday present! I hope this shall serve him a lesson to remember for the rest of his life. I know that by doing so I will lose my popularity but I'm willing to take that risk before he becomes more and more complacent. Bak kata orang corporate, it's a calculated risk gittew, boleh?<br /><br />This smarty-pants son never fail to forget his exams date, hence, never prepares for it. He would only remember that it’s tomorrow! Smart eh? If he had told me earlier I'd would have asked him to study much earlier too. Stick won’t do it for this boy anymore, the only option I have left is to take away his carrot. Let’s see whether it’ll work. I told him that from this year onwards he has to EARN his birthday present by bringing home good results. Owh, by the way, he’s result is not that bad actually he still got most As and a few Bs. But when I see his percentage keep dropping steadily, it’s time to alert the base. Houston we have a problem! <br /><br />I say nurturing smart kids is hard. They know how to work their way around equally smart parents. Sabar sajalah labu...Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-49382508812395742722010-11-15T18:45:00.005+08:002010-11-19T13:30:20.367+08:00Quest for flawless complexion (part 8)Wow, once I started writing it seems like I can’t stop. Glokalmama the writer is back! Yahoooo yippeedee yippeedeedoo!!! <br /><br />Now on to my quest for flawless complexion. I have good news y’all! My quest is finally on the right track. I have found the best solution to my skin problem. My skin is almost 70% better with only 2 treatments so far – 1 round of chemical peel and 1 Transderm treatment. And it’s all happening in just 3 weeks, no joke! If I knew it would be this easy, I would have came and seek treatment from Dr. Chua much earlier. Thanks to my dear friend who suggested that I see this doctor. Peeps, if you have skin problem like moi, please go see a doctor, not a beautician - take my words for it! <br /><br />To date, I’ve spent only RM480 for the chemical peel (natural fruit acid), which by the way was not the usual harsh type; RM180 for the lightener; RM120 for the sunblock; and RM350 for Transderm treatment. Previously I had spent RM4K for New York Skin treatment without any result at all (a total waste of money I tell ya!); RM1,800 for SKII products with very minimal result and forgot how much I spent at Dermalogica and Clinique counters. Gosh, I could have saved lotsa moolah! <br /><br />I’m pretty confident that with a few more Transderm treatments, my complexion will be flawless...lalalala *happy to the power of 1000*. <br /><br />I say syukur Alhamdulillah. Perhaps Allah is making it easy for me now that I have my aurat covered. Submitting yourself totally to God has its rewards, Wallahuwa'lam.Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-40599609959367641662010-11-15T18:13:00.005+08:002010-11-19T13:17:55.783+08:00A clueless couple in BJOver the weekend my hubby invited me for a game of badminton at our usual arena, our front porch and the road leading to it. And I enthusiastically agreed to it! We both love a game of badminton to break some sweats. But then we both realized, I can’t go out like that as I was in my 3 quarter pants and short sleeve t-shirt! He looked at me and asked, “what should you wear then?” To which I answered “you tell me, I don’t know!” We both laughed...hahaha.<br /><br />Honestly, I don’t know what should I wear if and when I feel like exercising (which by the way is only once in a blue moon lah). Hence yesterday I went hunting for bandana-like scarf to no avail. I can’t find it anywhere or perhaps I was looking at the wrong places. I also wondered what if when we go on a vacation and I wanted to swim? Looks like I still have plenty to learn about this tudung wearing business. Not as easy as you think y’all! <br /><br />I say, the first wave of test is coming my way. Ya Allah, terangkanlah hatiku untuk terus menuju kejalanMu ya Allah.Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-40944590712810461602010-11-15T17:26:00.019+08:002010-11-22T14:44:00.587+08:00My little rascalLast week I spent 5 days as a ‘real’ homemaker when my maid was sent back to my mom’s. Needless to say, it was the busiest 5-day of my life. Entertaining a particular 26months old toddler (and 2 other young kids) while doing house chores and cooking (without a break) was a huge challenge for me indeed. I came to a conclusion that I am not made to be a housewife for life. Ah well, at least I’m heroic enough to admit that, LOL! <br /><br />I just weaned Sophie off my breast a few days earlier hence she was still acting out which I presumed was her way to channel her frustration out for not being able to hold on to that one thing she felt most secure with. The day that I successfully weaned her off, she opted to sleep with my maid. And guess what, instead of celebrating, I found myself sleepless that night. I felt like I lost the connection with her. It is always the case when a mother stop breastfeeding her child. I remember vividly crying uncontrollably when I weaned off my firstborn. I cried like hell! My husband, on the other hand, was in celebration mode *grin*. <br /><br />My baby has officially graduated from breastfeeding. Next is potty training, but this I foresee will be a bit tough. She refuses to use the toilet to pee or poop but she'd take her baby dolls to the toilet and put them on the toilet seat to 'yak'. I'm weighing whether or not to send her to Montessori next year, perhaps I should. She's already turning into a prima donna even at 2yo! <br /><br />Busy reading the manual of her sister’s Melodian. Macam faham saja!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzUL6dkuFfPc7laTHnjkyfcCqRWZ6kRzbxMcbglCS2MxN30EBhdpVqkV88Mr2ol7YmlqlDloAqaYWupd0hDTZ-St-xtszu6RZOJD_Hf4hK49Dwu1eurudU3wOc90IfB8dZL87In5zLn3Q/s1600/reading+manual+2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzUL6dkuFfPc7laTHnjkyfcCqRWZ6kRzbxMcbglCS2MxN30EBhdpVqkV88Mr2ol7YmlqlDloAqaYWupd0hDTZ-St-xtszu6RZOJD_Hf4hK49Dwu1eurudU3wOc90IfB8dZL87In5zLn3Q/s320/reading+manual+2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539706446569686706" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmtbp1gx0Opb3zo7ic7k4sID5nq2DiLGopdDqq7nofPB4NVgY7DjRrNvUXHYNd5OuvtW3urvpSlmv_kWhbBdbJGWYZaITRODarrN3ka8ghhLtaPLqkuQe4OppNeJY1FY0I2PY1G685OiE/s1600/reading+manual.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmtbp1gx0Opb3zo7ic7k4sID5nq2DiLGopdDqq7nofPB4NVgY7DjRrNvUXHYNd5OuvtW3urvpSlmv_kWhbBdbJGWYZaITRODarrN3ka8ghhLtaPLqkuQe4OppNeJY1FY0I2PY1G685OiE/s320/reading+manual.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539706318292986242" /></a><br /><br />She was still jumping around before I went to the loo at way past midnight. Came out of the loo 3 minutes later and saw her sleeping on the floor like this.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaseOuK6lMpA9URSh2EhAktfkdvxtqwbA_7dv9umynwaT4V5EFFE7JpQCLat0YZd0MO8dyMCu0jEIsFCOmvShx02ypJaFqsjPQnC1YLWC2zSN3h3F74d_iIb8s8KpdyrwE-cgdxiJmb18/s1600/sleep+on+the+floor.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaseOuK6lMpA9URSh2EhAktfkdvxtqwbA_7dv9umynwaT4V5EFFE7JpQCLat0YZd0MO8dyMCu0jEIsFCOmvShx02ypJaFqsjPQnC1YLWC2zSN3h3F74d_iIb8s8KpdyrwE-cgdxiJmb18/s320/sleep+on+the+floor.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539706633901234178" /></a><br /><br />Don’t underestimate her size for she could make a hell lot of mess. This is how she eats her snack, a little goes into her mouth and most are thrown onto the floor. Once she finish eating, she'd throw EVERYTHING onto the floor including the water bottle (I'm not kidding here peeps!). I had backache cleaning up after her all day long for 5 days. Her fav eating spot is on top of the kitchen island. High chair is only for babies she said. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgISKXBkWAeHt3RRpHn45C8X_l3OAHEAZBZfEUGCl2Mz8b9a2KwCVSmUf5v4P6_aual8VdGIrqr3ORfF7dGr8Y4EBpYXVl5Irs9rrymCJ6T7U34GPCXcESOyQm3-xp5udo0m643-tvSn90/s1600/eating+on+island.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgISKXBkWAeHt3RRpHn45C8X_l3OAHEAZBZfEUGCl2Mz8b9a2KwCVSmUf5v4P6_aual8VdGIrqr3ORfF7dGr8Y4EBpYXVl5Irs9rrymCJ6T7U34GPCXcESOyQm3-xp5udo0m643-tvSn90/s320/eating+on+island.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539706814151252834" /></a><br /><br />Fishing at our indoor courtyard. A couple of minutes later, she threw the fishing rod into the water coz she was too mad she didn’t catch any. Typical type A personality.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgltlLVVZgxcWTiCVgUEJOvBIvXuPcx_cIQxy1x6BuHkwtZRbPbCkoIYJtE-gveWdICTZU9XZ9G5X7ZgYDOk0iKUK1fUqlsRYCpJEJbp2oD3Z2SSmlPZG5YKUYYzXvGPNj5KC9NJ7IP7AY/s1600/IMG_0735.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgltlLVVZgxcWTiCVgUEJOvBIvXuPcx_cIQxy1x6BuHkwtZRbPbCkoIYJtE-gveWdICTZU9XZ9G5X7ZgYDOk0iKUK1fUqlsRYCpJEJbp2oD3Z2SSmlPZG5YKUYYzXvGPNj5KC9NJ7IP7AY/s320/IMG_0735.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539731690081737970" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5qKCiz46fYEhc0fFfm3R8hI1EkNGbnDLxPUQi2x6F5Srx8qAouGYqbmKnp1V-5I8esvn0Jdr9oS00ftR-HeQGxR_WJsYRfc-D1w4k4fvVSuHGbEkbZ95PQj1Urx00VmMYGopZTShbzQo/s1600/fishing.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5qKCiz46fYEhc0fFfm3R8hI1EkNGbnDLxPUQi2x6F5Srx8qAouGYqbmKnp1V-5I8esvn0Jdr9oS00ftR-HeQGxR_WJsYRfc-D1w4k4fvVSuHGbEkbZ95PQj1Urx00VmMYGopZTShbzQo/s320/fishing.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539707207104458306" /></a><br /><br />Give her a pen, she'll turn into a tattoo artist! Look at the pictures below...yes, she drew on her own hand. Owh, she's also a great graffiti artist. My walls (and my floors too) are covered with her 'masterpieces' *sigh*.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOkf7ySZM5wugZsPnO5ACEXrWU_14Ik_Z_qs7k-L8jgnRHOT6JlzL1wpu49t7qRK0jXuGAZPObWlBXV3eZYYNx4rdQwXyqndCT2TBVCFrfFq39Zc3ubtgcn7KO11dBUqajyJIl2rVxJw8/s1600/tattoo+2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOkf7ySZM5wugZsPnO5ACEXrWU_14Ik_Z_qs7k-L8jgnRHOT6JlzL1wpu49t7qRK0jXuGAZPObWlBXV3eZYYNx4rdQwXyqndCT2TBVCFrfFq39Zc3ubtgcn7KO11dBUqajyJIl2rVxJw8/s320/tattoo+2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541204200852096546" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirQEKDjtIbvFwcN-_XI2V8Xgm9b8QCEeB72D2YDSr6mmdTsD6cdBx_Ol0SoE-TIhIRkvIpqfjrw7z8qsA2VrHqLrBPrXCrDufc79USurUHQtKCxpdyDHuT6B6JLwCwtStnjvEjukDwuEI/s1600/tattoo.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirQEKDjtIbvFwcN-_XI2V8Xgm9b8QCEeB72D2YDSr6mmdTsD6cdBx_Ol0SoE-TIhIRkvIpqfjrw7z8qsA2VrHqLrBPrXCrDufc79USurUHQtKCxpdyDHuT6B6JLwCwtStnjvEjukDwuEI/s320/tattoo.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541204080370972946" /></a><br /><br />But, how could you be mad when she gives you this look, rascal or not?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheZwdwkrEEmrK51KcX1zsFugPVqKcqonAoMiey-fAqMEv4-y37d73rSkUSQeM6FgsAzJGMM3oHRzTRo7gIYhVra8nbulddQeShyphenhyphenQGuXtM4lLuXQASaeaE9NsXqAkDWimm8v0L9W6XrCqs/s1600/rascal.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheZwdwkrEEmrK51KcX1zsFugPVqKcqonAoMiey-fAqMEv4-y37d73rSkUSQeM6FgsAzJGMM3oHRzTRo7gIYhVra8nbulddQeShyphenhyphenQGuXtM4lLuXQASaeaE9NsXqAkDWimm8v0L9W6XrCqs/s320/rascal.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539707476665004562" /></a><br /><br />I say as we aged, our passion towards certain things including disciplining your younger brood may diminish with it...or it is just me? Hahaha...Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3248913251808766113.post-8519360488499569242010-11-15T15:47:00.007+08:002010-11-15T18:22:57.968+08:00When tragedy strikesIt has been a while since I last wrote in this space. I was totally not in the mood to write anything whatsoever. Glokalmama the writer is still MIA *sigh*. But I shall try my best to write with the absence of my inner writer today. <br /><br />A lot has happened in the last few weeks. My parents and family back in Kedah were tested with Mother Nature’s fury – mega flood, the worst in the history of Kedah. I could only hear what they were going through during the tormenting 1 week and the news I heard was not exactly music to my ears. My parents’ place was submerged in more than 2 meters of muddy water – in a nutshell, if you can’t swim, you’ll certainly die! Alhamdulillah my parents and family evacuated themselves in the nick of time. According to my sister they could see how fast the water was raising...scary huh? <br /><br />The aftermath is indescribable! My parents lost almost everything. I doubt nothing much could be salvaged after being drenched in muddy water for a solid week. The pictures I saw brought tears to my eyes. I sent my eldest son and my maid back to help with cleaning, at least something than nothing at all. Taman Tabung Haji (my parents’ place) was in the news quite often since the tragedy – TV3 did coverage a few times, The Star also mentioned the place today and good Samaritans from as far as KL and Johor went down to help. It must have been one of the most badly affected areas. Alhamdulillah, water has receded but the cleaning process continues. And it shall continue for weeks to come. Ya Allah ya Tuhanku, permudahkanlah urusan keluargaku dan saudara-saudaraku di sana...<br /><br />The entrance of my parents' house<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiaoYFCFTQ7B7ewsHYPYZm5pOQ0pwEDuTDQ2AG6Y5prT8lDtDeTv2a8afwkAni8cdgK91ogyuQG1gE4QRPgpdqeGgX6gEFEFlcu7g3miDgFnPdERZ76j3cTk6SmLNl_lLPoyR-gZotE2k/s1600/banjir.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiaoYFCFTQ7B7ewsHYPYZm5pOQ0pwEDuTDQ2AG6Y5prT8lDtDeTv2a8afwkAni8cdgK91ogyuQG1gE4QRPgpdqeGgX6gEFEFlcu7g3miDgFnPdERZ76j3cTk6SmLNl_lLPoyR-gZotE2k/s320/banjir.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539687376011228722" /></a><br /><br />The stuff that came with the water and stuck at my parents' compound after water receded. My sister said they smell like ketam busuk.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPd3w0VmnoevkLoitHgIrOKjxIUFiMZ_LOzEBQUtonLwoRv14V1gaO67gNpFNrFf6meqlP2bDGVNXyNYXZf-ozNixjcmp0nhSjLjmzNhDNi0pKR1WtkGwHVY3IUCsfTilejjxsKlILAQ/s1600/banjir2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPd3w0VmnoevkLoitHgIrOKjxIUFiMZ_LOzEBQUtonLwoRv14V1gaO67gNpFNrFf6meqlP2bDGVNXyNYXZf-ozNixjcmp0nhSjLjmzNhDNi0pKR1WtkGwHVY3IUCsfTilejjxsKlILAQ/s320/banjir2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539687668941980626" /></a><br /><br />Students from UUM and USIM who came and help on the 3rd day of cleaning. Water supply was still inconsistent then. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQIfCmiaDOP75oUTkwUXbMADHxwV8pPrpb7Zr8LNYORUF_bZKhDVPyeseqXQjCOEB1lvadNT3cSwzJ_pmlfs7_WJxPDMPaocFH9LVC4lXr8fd0tx7I7HKAjdQkjouK3nEm082oGWYu27M/s1600/banjir3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQIfCmiaDOP75oUTkwUXbMADHxwV8pPrpb7Zr8LNYORUF_bZKhDVPyeseqXQjCOEB1lvadNT3cSwzJ_pmlfs7_WJxPDMPaocFH9LVC4lXr8fd0tx7I7HKAjdQkjouK3nEm082oGWYu27M/s320/banjir3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539688135997932002" /></a><br /><br />But then again, if we were to compare this with Tsunami, earth quake, tornado dan yang sewaktu dengannya, it was just a tiny test from Allah. Alhamdulillah, the people in affected states especially in Kedah managed to see it through. <br /><br />But there is something that’s been bugging me since this disaster strike our nation. Why is that when another country is strike with a tragedy, we, the ever generous Malaysians, eagerly and wholeheartedly help with whatever we could - be it money, manpower, medical supplies, food and what not. It was like a contest to see who can collect the most donations. Various NGOs stepped up and set up all kinds of funds and charity events to help. But when a tragedy hit our own people in our own country, help is, to say non-existence is an exaggeration, perhaps a more suitable choice of word would be ‘insufficient’. Look at the amount of funds collected compared to what we had collected for victims of the many tragedies in Indonesia. I feel sad for Malaysia...really really sad. <br /><br />I say the world is coming to its end. Tragedy will strike one after another. Bertaubatlah selagi masa masih menyebelahi kita...Allah Maha Besar!Glokalmamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03276055957493229833noreply@blogger.com0