The Luxury

Not having to rush off for work as before, I find, have given me the luxury of pampering myself, particularly my skin.

I am one of those who do everything at the very last minute and this include waking up. Woke up just in time to put moisturiser and off I dashed. I applied sunblock, powder, eye liner and lipstick in the car. I am the weird one who curse the green lights.

But now I have all the time I want. Even the kids are pampered. Batrisyia is lathered with generous helpings of lotion all over her. I massage her every morning before she goes to school. Even put on moisturiser/ sunblock on her.

Facial wash is not a rush anymore. Taking care to exfoliate all the time. Putting on the mask every three days. Lover never get to suffer the masked face, for I do it when he is not around. He is back home to a clean, exfoliated face with a hint of gloss. (Wei dory aku dah beli gloss. Ada rasa strawberry. Lickilicious). Serum, night cream, moisturiser, sublock, spots corrector. All in a days work.

And I have so much time to apply lotion to the most neglected places. In a dry country like this, lotion is your saviour. Ohh look at those calves. Are they scaly? Isk isk isk. Even my man's calves are not spared.

I pumice and moist the heels as well. It was so cracked up. It can even be used as sand paper. Perhaps one of these days I will even perform full pedicure. Interesting..

Let's not forget the anatomy that abide the rule of gravity. Massaging for the extra firmness and hope oh pray god to delay the droop. Massage not only for the vanity but for health.

Never too early to start for the teenagers.

Never too late to start for the mature woman.

Good if you are breastfeeding. Eases the flow of the milk through the ducts.

If you are on a weight loss programme, remember it will shrink too and worst it deflates. HORRORS. Start toning. (you know who you are you lucky thing)

For massage techniques refer here and here.

For health care refer here.

The bliss of not rushing to clock to work..

Silalah jealous. Sila. Silakan.

The Neighbours

I have two immediate neighbours. David and Naima, who live above us and Jhun, behind us.

I often bumped into David and Naimah in the morning when I send Sya off to school at the gate. Somehow I gathered that Naimah, a Moroccan married to a Brit, not very happy being in this country. Typical of flamboyant Moroccan, she is loud and very expressive and has a very hearty laugh.

Out of my so Goddessy-good-neighbour self, I made a courtesy call, I went to her house one evening with warm bread pudding (a better version) and custard sauce. Over cranberry juice, we chatted for hours. Actually she did most of the talking. She was whining, complaining about nearly everything. The house, the landlord, the hot country, the arrogant locals, the expenses. I empathy with her actually because to tell the truth I am in the same shoes. But I chose to listen. And I found me comforting myself instead for feeling the same way as I smiled and nod at her complaints.

She complains about not going anywhere. She imagined camping at some exotic desert. She imagined lulling over dates with loving husband at an oasis. She imagines mysticism. Wait a minute that's me actually.

Then I did it again. I suggested something out of the blue. I said let's do bbq or something. She nearly jumped at the suggestion.

So that's what we did yesterday. We went for a little picnic at the corniche. She made kebabs, lamb and beef. Roast chicken. Salads, humus. I made big chunks of chicken and beef satay (too lazy toneedle the cutlets into skewers), rice cube, peanut sauce, the whole work and spring roll. As i thought, they loved the peanut sauce. And as I thought also, I attacked only the lamb.

There were also two other ladies Helen and Fadhillah. So there we were four ladies of different culture but amazingly similar dreams. Naimah, the expressive Moroccan lady, embracing the British culture and sizzling it with her kebab. Helen, the sweet English school- nurse lady and Fadhilah,also a Moroccan who doesn't speak English at all.

We talked about the abaya. An abaya can actually be sexy. The fabric swishing swashing against your skin as you walk or when the breeze pressures against your curve. I said imagine wearing the abaya with nothing underneath.

Ooohhh so daring said Helen. Fadhillah smiled. I think she finds me animated. Naima laughed really loud.

We also talk about how we, the woman, the confused species. So raving to go out. So wanting to be out there. Battling in the real world. Wearing Chanel suits. To be individually recognised other than being a mum. To be away from the kids. To get off this world of domestication.

But we are guilty of doing so. So we are here, complaining why the men in our lives can't feed the kids properly.

I have been thinking a lot about this, perhaps I will blog about it later. I am feeling a bit low. About the lack of excitement. Lack of individualism. About going out in the typical Malaya function and feeling restless.

Or perhaps not.

Anyway..it was a good break. We talked about the possibility of us leaving the kids with our husbands and go for a girls' night out. I almost suggested it out. But Naima will be popping soon. Helen will be leaving to Dubai for good this coming Thursday.

We had a good break. Our stomach full. The kids got sand in their hair. The guys got to clear up the rubbish.

So all in a good company.


Helen, Fadhillah and Naima. Chatting away while watching the kids play.

I am cool. I am alright.

Sometimes I feel that I am doing nothing exciting at all to blog about. I mean sure I made sago pudding early this week and well it is really good. Infact I surprised myself. It is bloody easy, I am surprised I have never made that one before. But well..I like surprising myself sometimes.

And also the most exciting weekly event I used to have is not there anymore. They have moved to the embassy. Too lazy to go. There is still this pot luck every fortnight on Thursday night. Spring rolls maybe? No sengkuang though. Haziq has a party on Thursday. Last day of school. I still have those little cups. I'll make brownies again. *rolls eyes*. There is something on the coming Friday too. But it is too upsetting to tell. No camera. :(

Then Haziq. He got a prize the other day. In his school. Not for core subjects though. It's his school project. So okay,I made so much fuss. I am a drama queen okay? Teacher has nothing but good words for him. Still he needs refinement on certain things. But overall I am proud of him. Being in school for 4 months throughout the year, I think he did okay. Teachers gave pointers. I really like to share if there is an audience.

Psssttt. Haziq's good friend, John, got the best student. And look at his momma drilling him over his exam papers in front of everyone. Looking nothing but proud. Oh woman! Hug him! Come on! Give him a break!

Oh and the other thing is. There are a few events at Haziq's school.
Lover who is super busy and who is also worried that he wouldn't be able to make it on time. So he asked me to drive instead and be his chauffeur while I am that. So yeah, I get to drive. And yeah, I have been driving. In fact I have been driving ever since we rented the car. And because I drive a lot, I am familiar with some parts of D0ha by now.

I am cool. I am alright. It's no big deal. It is expected anyway.

DID I TELL YOU I AM DRIVING ALREADY???!!!!!!!! Oh man! Lover can kiss goodbye to his car already!



Actually the last part is the whole point of this mundane entry.

Electrical Electronics

Can somebody tell me the meaning of this word? Is it the same in Arabic?

I wrecked my camera today. My only camera that I brought here. It was soaked in water from Jack's beaker in my handbag. I am upset. I was hoping to get a digital SLR next, but I still need a compact. It also mean that I won't have any activity for myself when I go out. Everyone knows that the camera is like an extension of my hand.

Coming home just now, we found that half of the house electrical network went kaput. The kids' room and the guest room and also the aircond for the living room. The kids said yeah we are sleeping over at Ibu's. Camping out in my room. The landlord is only coming tomorrow.

I also think a goalkeeper needs to have really loud voice and strong throat as well. They seem to be shouting a lot.

Siblings Love

Haziq was invited to his friend's birthday party the other day at Burger King. Hmm I am not sure whether it was what they chose as the party packages but I think the McD's package in Malaysia is so much better.

The party was chaotic. That I can summarise tell you. These kids are a bit rough. Bebudak arab ni kasau betullah When they were playing passing the balloon game instead of passing it nicely like what normal children do, they would punch and kick the balloon instead. Sya who was in the circle, amazingly maintained to the last two, refused to play any other games after. She actually looked scared. And musical chair game was the worst. The chairs were everywhere. Or the kids were constantly holding on to the chairs. Ayoooo. The facilitators had to really shout over the mike and restart the games many times. Sore losers some of them.

Anyway, that was the first time I heard Happy Birthday sung in Arabic . Party songs in Arabic. The musical chair song was in Arabic. There is something about some Arabic pop songs that makes you want to swirl and twirl your hips. The music is sooo seductive..

But one thing about that night that made me think was what Haziq's friend said to him. He said to Haziq that Haziq is a lucky boy. And why is that, Haziq asked. He said you have such a cute brother (refer to Zachary). I asked Haziq, what do you think? You think you are lucky? And he, unromantically said yeah. He is cute.

I must say despite my tiredness sometimes, I find these little beings amusing.

Do your kids squabble and fight and then one come running at you and said Ibu look at him. Ibu look at her. Look! Look! Ayoo seboklah.

Do you ever see them sitting together plotting something mischievous intently. Even with JackJack, the oblivious one, looking so serious.

Do they get frustrated with the littlest ones who seem to get away with anything? His toys are his, their toys are also his?

Do they hit each other and run away. Run across the house. Right behind you! In front of you. Tumbling everywhere?

Or watch TV together, where the oldest would laugh most since he understands it, and will be followed by even a heartier laugh by the others. Including the littlest one who is clueless.

I find their closeness and bonding beautiful. They do fight. And I do nag and get angry. But they really love each other and hit each other. A universal symbol of sibling's love. Then they wrestle and hug and laugh.

I pray that my children would be close to one another, forever. Even through their married life. Even when I am gone only to leave them a scrappy plot of land to be divided amongst them. It breaks any parent's heart to see their children straying from one another. This, I know.

One of the Malays custom was that we should gather the kids umbilical cord stump, the one they fall off after a week of their birth, in a small pouch. I don't know what to do with them. But should I worry now? I didn't have any of theirs. Haziq's fell off in the hospital. Constantly sleeping under the photo rays for his jaundice, the stump fell off and thrown. I didn't keep the rest for I didn't see the point. I know there are some ayahs to recite. But I errr do not know what. *shame*

So for now I follow the flow. One thing I avoid most is to say one is better than the other in front of them. One is definitely better than the other in certain ways but it should not be an issue.

Hugs and advices. Kisses and time outs. Love and discipline.

M0habba Bridge

Sign In Causeway Deal

Oh we all are so happy

D0ha and M@nama has signed a deal to link the two countries. The link is called M0habba. The M0habba bridge.

And yes yes, I am also living in a country who is going to have the longest fixed link in the word. Hooray to being the superlative. Hooray to engineering-know-hows.

The news is probably what most have been waiting for. 15 minutes to Manama. No hassle for the plane. Who wants to drive through Saudi anyway?

Interesting eh? But the project would take more than 4 years. I might not even be here. Tak merasalah pulak naik 40km causeway tu. Hmm does this mean I am liking it here?

I don't know what is in Bahrain though, except for Mich@el J@ckson. And even that, he won't be there anymore. Not that it would be a good tourist attraction anyway.

But I can see myself driving to M@nama for the weekend. Just because it is the next closest country I can go to. So we can meet there for weekend flings. Belly dancing and rub in order.

So four years from now eh. Anyone?

Haziq's Concert Day

It was Haziq's first concert day, yesterday. First one here. In this new school of his. In this foreign country. In an international school. Ooooo so mega important! He missed quite a few already. So this one, this one is important for him before he finishes off school.

It's important for me.

You might also notice that for a "concert" entry, there is certainly lack of pictures in this post.

Why is that? (I help you probe the right question)

Because, I didn't even take any.

Eh! How come?

Because, I wasn't even there.

This is the point where you should start raising your eyebrows.

I didn't even see what he did for his concert. You see the one I love most in this house, the one with a car and the most important job in the world, picked me up at 11:00 yesterday. The concert starts at 11:15. And The school is far. 20-30 minutes journey. And the road was jam-packed yesterday.

No prize on guessing who was pouting.

When I got to the place, there was a big applause from the audience. They were not applausing for me for finally being there. It was the last performance of the older children. Then the teacher said her thanks to all parents who took their time coming (on time, if I may add). The children did so well despite english being their second language and yadda, yadda, yadda. I was just standing there near the stage (for I cannot enter any further) looking for Haziq. He was sitting on the floor with his friends.

Finally the teacher said the parents can bring the children home and to have a good day. Haziq shot up. Scanned the audience, presumably looking for me. I am not there among the audience of course. I called out to him. Delighted was his face seeing me standing next to the stage. He said, I looked for you during the show, but I forgot to look at the side of the stage. You were even nearer. Gulp!

He also asked whether I noticed anything different about him during the show. I made him tell it to me in the most calm motherly way I can squeeze.

Pray he didn't ask for photos.

Just to add. It is not wise to use stilletos if you are going to walk under the hot sun with a soaring temperature of 50 degrees Celsius. Everything sizzles including the pavement. It will burn right through your thin stilletos and saute your foot crisp like bacon.

Use platform instead.

An Interview with A Two Year Old Boy

Master Zachary turned "terrible two" on the 7th June 2006 but he is anything but that. I haven't been interviewing him for a long time. I remembered the interview, which was ages ago (which is of course a lie, because Master Zachary is only two, thus the term ages ago does not apply to him). He spilled us his insights. Amazing boy. I am going to sneak on him and ask him what he has been up to lately.

.

Hello there Master Zachary??

*playing with his cars. Looks at me. Points to car and said* CAR! *grins* Hey! What are you doing here?

Little chat. I do miss you. My my my it has been so long eh? You are looking good.

*Big Grin* And likewise.

So tell me what's new from the last we met?

Well as it is so obvious..you can see that I can make better use of my legs. Instead of sucking my toes, I can now walk and jump and run and even prance like a pony. Ibu always laugh when I prance.

I don't drool as much. I have the whole set of teeth. I think. *show perfect pearlies*

And I don't fit the little car seat anymore.

Yes I can see that. You are a big boy now

Well I am two. *hit two cars together and make explosive sounds*

Yes that's why I am here. So what did Ibu get you?

Hmm..I don't know. Are we suppose to get something for birthdays? I don't remember getting anything for my birthday. *Glance at ibu who is using computer intently* She did say she wants to make brownies but I don't recall any of it. Each time she says brownies or cakes she would curse the oven. Ayah thinks we should get a new oven. Ibu says we should wait. I don't know why she does that. She complains a lot about it but not want to jump at Ayah's offer. Strange my Ibu.

But she was busy doing two dishes of trifle and a big big pot of peanut sauce. She seems really busy this week. Either in the kitchen or in front of the computer.

But I did hear she talked to my dad about getting me a bike or that little car. You know the one I can ride on. I have been riding the vacuum cleaner a lot. My mum thinks I am a deprived child. She thinks all of us are deprived children in this house. He he..I wouldn't mind getting a bike.

That is wonderful. Hope your Ayah buys it soon.

Ibu wants other stuffs for my brother and sister too. School holiday is coming. So I think Ibu wants to keep us occupied.

Two years have gone by..what do you think is the most significant thing that happen to you Master Zachary?

*Stop. Turn to me. Put down the cars he was playing. Serious look*

Something happen to me in the past few months. I can't really put my finger on it. I woke up one day and I see my mum around. Which is normal sometimes. It could be weekend. She probably took a leave. But then it went on for quite some time. I see her everyday. In the morning, she is around. She bathes me. She is always the one who feeds me. She is still around in the afternoon. The next day I wakes up and she is still there.

I may not understand the concept of time just yet..but I think it has been like this for quite some time. Of me always seeing her around nearly everywhere she goes, I am always with her now.

I am excited of course, but I am also wary. You know despite her being with me nearly all the time, I couldn't help wondering for how long this good thing will go on. I am ashamed to say that I am even more clingy to her. I cry out when I wake up just to see her rushing to the room. And yes I am reassured...she is around.

I am afraid that one day I wake up..and poof..she is not there in the morning. Only in the evenings and on weekends. But at the moment I am enjoying her. I am glad she is around.

I have developed tremendous, compared to the last you saw me..but emotionally I think this has to be the most significant thing that happen to me.

I am a happy child. Psstt I am luckier than my brother and sister eh?

You are. You are the lucky one. Make your Ibu happy while you are at that okay...You know that she is not working for now. You are in a different country. Your mum thinks it's best that no one in the family stay apart.

I think it's hard for her you know. Not working and taking care of kids. She is not used to it. Not having a good adult conversation. I don't talk much yet or she still doesn't understand me as much. But I heard she says, since she is at it, she wants to give her best. Being with me and my brother and sister. So I think she is enjoying. I hope so. And yesssshhhh I want my Ayah. Yeehhhhhh.

*smiles* Another good chat Master Zachary. Glad that you are doing okay. Having good time and all. Not many have this opportunity you know. *Ruffles Zachary's hair* I can also smell chocolate from the kitchen.

*turns to kitchen*. I think Ibu finally made the brownies. *smile*

Eh! Wait!

Yes Master Zachary?

Say one.

Eh?

Just say one. the number one.

One?

Twoooooooo

Oh I see! Three.

Fooooooouuuurrrrrrr

Five

Cixxsssss

Seven

ah ah ah

Eight. Nine.

TEN TEEENNNNNNNNNNN

Ha ha ha ha Ha ha ha. Very good.

Now say I.

I

LOVE

YOU!YOOOUUUUUUUUUU

Ha ha ha ha Ha ha ha.

Happy birthday Zachary. May life be good to you.


Most recent picture. Master Zachary's favourite sleeping position.

Working Hours

My lover's working days is from Sunday to Thursday. Weekends over here is on Friday and Saturday. Friday is a holy day for Muslim (?) where the men perform special Friday prayers in the mosque. When I say men, it doesn't mean that women can't go though. It is their perrogitive, it is just not compulsory for woman.

His working hours is from 6:30-2:30. Yup! So he should finish his work by 2:30. Which is really really good. It would have been better of course if he does leave work sharp 2:30, which many time he doesn't. If he does, he would reach home by 2:45.

However, with meetings and whatever, usually the latest he would be back is at 6 (which is rare). Most of the time he is here by 4.

If he reaches home at 5, my sulking pouty Angelina Lollie mode would be on. Not because of anything, this sulking. Just to remind him that he is still very much needed in this home. Part of universally recognise tactics for mistresses around the world to show that they need their man. That's all. Nothing more to it. We don't want them running around thinking we, independent as we are, do not need them anymore. Of course you should not over do it. Then they won't buy it. They would prefer to hang out at the man's club instead. It is wise that if you want to get in this Angelina Lollie pouting lips mode, you should look very inviting. Please no "baju potong bawang" (rags). Hideous! We demand his attention, not his disgust! Angry you must, just make sure you look luscious. Make him regret being home late. Nagging is no game okay darlings.

Anyway, I really digress. Despite being home "late", seriously I do like the working hours. Imagine being home at 4 most of the time. I know I was always home at 6:30 last time.

There is just so much he can do with us being home early. We usually have a good chat. We can still go out after and not feel tired out. We would laze around with the kids. I can put up my feet and chat with friends. I can also curl my feet against his half day long. Ahhh bliss.

Bracing for Hotter Summer

They sell excellent thick commercial mango juice over here. The kind that you can get in only some "kedai mamaks" in Malaysia. But they have it anywhere here. Not just at any selected shops. Even the most run down "kedai pak Ravi" sells the mango drink.

So apa lagi? Mango lassilah kita..

Half a jug of thick mango juice.

A quarter jug of creamy fresh laban. (Which is plain yoghurt.) Or whatever ratio you prefer. The locals here I know like 1:1.

Perhaps sugar to taste. Just like popcorn, some people put salt instead. Sugar for me, thank you.

Serve chill.

And you have the RM8 mango lassi typically sold in Restoran Syed. Mind you the RM8 was only for a glass. The one that I drank nearly every week when I was pregnant with Jack. Taking my time swirling the liquid in my mouth, in between the teeth before slowly allowing myself to swallow it, savouring every trickle down my throat.

Hot season is here and so is the sweet juicy expensive Indian mangoes. Sold so cheap. QR10 for a box of 16. The bigger one is QR10 per kilo. Slightly more expensive, but ahhhh heaven is made of them mangoes you know.

This makes living in the hot, dry country worthwhile.


Ref : QAFAC – HEALTH ALERT - 03 / 2006 – Wed. 24th May 06