WTF

I've absolutely had it. Tolerated your back bitching and fake grins. Even played along when you loudy declared you are my most trusted soldier.

I've never asked for your support. Never asked that you take sides. Never even thought there could be another side. I thought we were all on the same side, the same page. Only to find out, that there's a game going on and you're the master. And worse, it's a game you play everywhere. I suppose I should take comfort that this is not played solely for my sake. And that you just can't help the way you are, you  moron. With you, there's just no integrity, not even decent honesty. Everything has been a lie.

So I'm telling you, in as ladylike a fashion as I can, F**k off.

I hope one day, you will learn that it never pays to be a two-timing snake. I hope you find the Restart button. God knows you need it.

A real woman

A real woman always keeps her house clean and organized, the laundry basket is always empty. She’s always well dressed, hair done. She never swears, behaves gracefully in all situations and all circumstances. She has more than enough patience to take care of her family, always has a smile on her lips, and a kind word for everyone.

 

Reblog this if you, too, suspect that you might be a man.

Back to Reading Again

Back when there was no Internet, and no kids, my favourite thing was a good book, a can of coke and twisties. And by a good book, it gotta be fiction. I mean who in their right mind would want to devour anything serious and call it pleasurable, kan? Mad.

I went mad. Oh, probably around the time I started being in a managerial position and realised I knew next to nothing about how to go about it. So how like that? Must read lah. No choice. So I started frantically seeking out those self-help books. I have a good collection now. Want to see some?

But the thing with me is, I would start off reading, complete with Twisties and Cocacola by my side, and about half way through, I would chuck them aside. They're either boring, or not telling me anything I didn't already knew.

So for a few years now, I've stopped buying non-fiction. And thus had sort of a hiatus from serious reading.

With fiction, I would read like a quarter of the book, then quickly flipped to the last few pages. And if I liked the ending, I would take it to the bath with me and read it ever so slowly.

But this book I picked up last week, ooh. Absolutely love it.

I think it was written especially for me. Cos I love her writing style, the examples, the inspirational stories of everyday businesses, the whole works. I'm not kidding. You can just read it like a novel, it's so entertaining. And unlike some marketing books, it doesn't try too hard, know what I mean? It's just a great book, filled with great ideas and it's clear the author has very real practical experiences. Stuff I wish I knew twenty years ago.

I like books like this. Meaty. Entertaining, yet meaty. I so like. Drives me wild allright.

Nat's Drug Allergy. Help?

From the time she was about 3 years old, we discovered that Nat had developed a serious allergic reaction to medication.

Natalie, at 3 years old

She fell sick a lot, during the early years. About every other month or so, Nat would be down with a cold, a fever, or cough. We didn't notice it at first. Didn't pay much attention to the skin rashes which would appear a day or two after she started on paracetamol syrup. Body heat, we thought.

But it turned out to be worse than that. Her rashes would get bigger and redder each time, and her eyelids, ears, nose, and fingers would get swollen and go double their original sizes. Once, her eyes were swollen completely shut. My poor, poor baby.

We went to see countless medical specialists, even sinsehs, and switched to ibuprofen, even penicillin. Nothing worked. The rashes persisted and grew larger.

After one year of trying, I totally gave up. I couldn't let her suffer anymore. It was more than I could take. No way was I going to give her another drop of medication.

So everytime she fell sick and had fever, I would drop everything and tend to her. This is my baby. So what if I had to stay awake the whole night. If you're a mum, you would understand this so well. I would die for my babies.

Earlier this week, Nat fell ill again. This time, her fever crept up on her at school. By the time she got home, the temperature was hovering around 102C. With no medication to bring down the temperature, I did the age old remedy of sponge bath, every few minutes. Learnt a few tricks too. If you keep the forehead and armpits cool, the fever tend to subside a tad faster. We kept her on a liquid diet for most of the day, (she couldn't eat anything anyway) and I texted my mum to pray for her. See, when my mum prays, God listens. ALL the time.

Throughout the night, she slept. I kept her cool. And while she slept, I gazed at my baby and thought if I could bargain with God for anything, exchange anything in my life, I would want Nat to be allergic free.

Today, she is all better. She called her Popi to say thanks for praying. (Nat's such a rebel. poh-poh just won't do) . And she said to me, Thanks, mum for taking care of me. I am nothing without you.

Silly girl. It is I who am nothing without you.

Midlife Crisis. Bring it On.

OK. I admit it. When I first heard of this book - Eat Pray Love, I thought yawn.. not another self help book. I'm surrounded by women in their 40s and 50s who think it's fun to entertain me with scary tales about menopause, bodily changes, mood swings and depression. It's almost like a contest sometimes. Who had the worst day. Who had the worst depression. Who had the hottest flush.Tragic.

I want none of that. I want to grow old gracefully like my mum, cheerful and definitely no hot flush.

So no Eat Pray Love for me. Not even if Oprah raved about it.Not even if Julia Roberts stars in the film version. Thankyouverymuch.

 

But like they say, NEVER say never.

Maybe it was an urguarded moment. I was fresh from having my 482nd cold war with him, went out for some retail therapy, and as if possessed by some mysterious, unknown force, ended up hugging this book home.

I can't believe it. There are so many things in this book that resonate so deeply with me. I have questioned the same things, experienced some of the despair, and still feeling some of the pain. So OMG. Is this it? Am I going through a midlife crisis?

Maybe.

I've turned 40. Maybe I AM over the hill. Let's see now. I don't sleep quite so much anymore. I don't eat like how I used to. Back then buffet spreads were like my best friends. And if I didn't get my 8 hours of sleep, you better run for your life.

I'm 40. When people irritate me now, I sigh. In my younger days, you would have been amazed at my range of cutting vocabulary. But now, I say nothing and I sigh. I think about how childish people get and I think this is not worth getting worked up. Yeah, so this is what old feels like.

OK. Maybe not old. But definitely not so young anymore. So is this what Midlife crisis looks like? What next, do we go get a face-lift? Maybe a new hot thing, a red car, breast implants? Hmmm.. tempting. But seriously? You got to be kidding.

So what, right? Yes, so I ask deep questions now. Questions like What makes me happy? What defines me? How do I want to live for the next 20 years. How do I want to be remembered as.

I don't have the answers.

And thus, a new chapter has just begun. There are so many things I want to do, so many dreams I want to see come true.

And above all, I want to be happy, everyday.

I have played many roles. It's now time to be me.

Happy Mother's Day

Dearest Mummy,

Happy Mother's Day!

First thing I want to say - I love you. You are the best mom. Beautiful inside and out, you are the Glue that hold us all together.





Second thing I want to say - I MISS your cooking. Arrggh. Don't I hate it. Living across the South China Sea from you, and those two sisters of mine are forever enjoying your cooking. Did you notice they are getting fat?? Gawd, I miss the otak-otak, the perut ikan, steamboat, asam laksa, hokkien mee.

I can't cook nearly as well as you. Did I tell you that Gab would sometimes take a look at my dishes and say "Let's go to McDonalds?". Sigh.

I can't juggle my life as well as you did. You seemed to do so everything so effortlessly.

What, you used to wake up at 5 in the morning. Madness! I remember that so well. Because I used to wonder if you were normal. Woke up that early just to prepare breakfast AND lunch for us!? And then rush off to the hospital for your morning duty before 7am.

On weekends you used to go to those awful smelling wet markets, again, at a very ungodly hour. I know lah, cos I went with you too, remember? I enjoyed listening to you bargain with the wet market traders. You would touch the vegetables in those big straw baskets and politely asked how much. Then, even before the vege seller could finish her sentence, you were already frowning and shaking your head in utter disbelief. Haaa? Awat mahal sangat! And I would stand behind you, part in embarassment, part trying not to laugh.

Now, with 3 kids of my own, I wonder how you managed us three willful girls, one husband, one demanding job, two dogs and a house that's almost always messed up by the three girls. And still managed to do gardening, baking, getting so involved in the women's group, watching over your other two lazy daughters (never me tho!), and all those insane stuff that you do. Talk about multitasking!

Now, when I get too overwhelmed, by the problems at work or the seemingless never ending house chores, I think, if you could do it, well, so can I. You're my inspiration.

I love you, Mum. Happy Mother's Day.

The Royal Wedding

The day of the Royal Wedding, I was in Kota Kinabalu on a business trip and missed watching this live. But I did watch snippets of it the next day, and it still got me teary-eyed. Weddings are so beautiful.

I thought of the day I got married. I had flown in to Kuching, having just quit my job in Penang. We got married the next day. I wonder if there could be a greater contrast.

Two billion people around the world sat glued to their TVs for Prince William and Kate Middleton's Royal Wedding. Two billion people gasped as Kate Middleton emerged, looking like a dream. Two billion people swooned at the prince's handsomeness. Two billion people collectively held their breath as the bride and bridegroom kissed.

Two people came to mine!

It didn't matter really because in the end, it's just about two people and how we would live together.

Now, 17 years later, I ask myself - Would I marry the same guy all over again?