Each New Morning

Sunrise, Langkawi 2009.

A rejuvenating Subuh, Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah. 

It is as though I am on a vacation on an island. Every thing is serenely beautiful that my being is beaming with positivity. Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah. 

For each new morning with its light

For rest and shelter of the night

For health and food, for love and friends

For every thing Thy goodness sends

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah.

A Domestic Engineer's Work is Never Done

A lot to write. Too little time.

S.l.o.w!

The Internet at home has been slow since yesterday. Too slow.

You know it is no longer slow when I update my Facebook status and Chech: Eccentric with photos :).

The Espresso in Notion, by Khalish

Sometimes, I have believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast

Lewis Carroll

O, Spirit

I lust for feel-good factors.

A biography, in book form.

A workout, endorphin-loaded.

A pedicure, or foot lotion.

A good old traditional massage, perhaps.

A top, so light.

A stroll, somewhere pleasant.

A quiet lunch, or dinner, with a new book.

A day, alone, definitely.

And, I promise I would miss neither Kamal nor Khalish. I will just enjoy my own presence.

The Obsession, The Exploitation

One morning this week, Khalish woke up way earlier than the usual 8:00 a.m., yet, I was still half-way through the house chores. Yet, I couldn't complete anything because the two-year-old was clinging to my pants while begging me, with tears, to join him and the play dough. I was flattered that he found my company enjoyable (and I was simultaneously aware that he had no choice as I was the only company available at home when the daddy went to work). Nonetheless, I was also adamant about completing the house chores with the domestic-mood around. 

It was then that I exploited Khalish's obsession for lorries.

"Would you like to watch lorries on my computer?" I lured, with excitement!

"Yes!" so he was bought.

I actually put a slideshow of the lorries I drew for him. There were only three photos, but, each was displayed for 10 seconds, and accompanied with Khalish's selection of songs (which happened to be among my favourite, too; Pomplamoose's Mister Sandman and Glee's Over the Rainbow), repeated for an umpteenth time.

In the end, he was happy, and, I was definitely over the rainbow. How glad I was about his obsession with lorries, and my obsession with visual documentation. Heh.

I Feel Good!

Solat Subuh.

Housekeeping. 

Nutritious breakfast. That only took five minutes to prepare.

So, more time for Kamal, Khalish, and myself. 

Carefree Sunday

Saturday was a blur, surprise, surprise. I now realise that my rebel was caused by an unfulfilled need. A whole day of rest, to be precise. A whole day of rest with nothing to fret about, not even calories, to be more precise.

I didn't announce the aforementioned need though. I did so only after the damage was done.

Today is better, but, the damage is still there. I don't feel like fixing anything yet. I just feel like resting, with nothing to fret about. There.

Six Lorries, A Bubble Bath, and A Happy Mommy

Six lorries and a bubble bath.

Yesterday, the fried rice, that I prepared with healthy ingredients and lots of love, was a hit. Khalish even requested for more during dinner. No more left though. At the same time, I felt like slowly sipping a cup of coffee after a hectic week. The nearby Pizza San Francisco sprang to my mind. So did its apple pie, for Khalish, his growth spurt, and his good manner of lately.

The moment we put on our shoes, a close chum called. She was around, and she was thinking of us and a pizza! No apple pie, as Khalish nodded enthusiastically at his new friend's offer to share the pizza. His first time. Seeing the enthusiasm, my close chum even sacrificed her need for the hot and spicy variety.

From there, the conversation moved to oven, relationship, John Lennon, aspiration, etcetera, and last, but not least, creativity. The final topic came as I diligently drew Khalish's latest obsession i.e. lorries, according to his specifications, with a tissue paper on the table. The close chum commented on my promptness in manipulating the surrounding for a fun activity to make a toddler sit still. I admitted to her that creativity is my survival skill in parenthood.

I have always loved children. Nonetheless, I realised that I lacked the patience to manage the active ones.  The reason I am given Khalish, I suppose. Little by little, particularly since becoming a stay at home mother, I learned to manage my reactions towards a defiant son.

I learned to negotiate at toddler's level while simultaneously bringing him to adult's level.
I learned to be less adamant about my argument, and listened to his instead.
I learned to delegate tasks, with faith.
I learned to go with the flow, or simply let go.
I even learned that a simple act of anger like biting my lip, could lead to more anger!

Most of all, I learned that my creativity has been with me for another reason (aside from skipping formal dinner back at school in the name of completing a mural): it has offered me patience in my pursue of a better, and indeed, fun, way to discipline Khalish. It builds character.

When Khalish emphasised his need for a toy truck by shouting for the whole restaurant to respond, I knew he needed me to involve him while conversing with the close chum. My quick response could be a whack at the padded back, but the creativity within me presented an equally quick, but better solution: when your handbag was too full to accommodate a toy truck, draw one (or six).

Back at home, when Khalish refused to bathe despite the sweat from all those jumping and running, the creativity replaced the impatience once again. I made use of the Play-Doh for a pretend play. Of how fun and relaxing bubble bath* could be. Khalish was inspired by the visual power. Me, I was, too.

By how fun and relaxing being creative could be.

*Thank you, Tuty, for the idea (when I was stuck with yet another Khalish's defiant episode).

How I Feel. Now.

Tranquil.

Khalish Has a Little Lamb

Khalish has a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb
Khalish has a little lamb
Its fleece is white as snow

Yet, its eyes and nose are dotted in black
Dotted in black, dotted in black
Its eyes and nose are dotted in black
So, Khalish calls it Zorro

Photos of Khalish and Zorro, at the former's grandparents' backyard orchard, last Tuesday.

A Minute Fraction of Me, Post Midnight

For the first time since becoming a stay at home mother (as opposed to an attempted period of being a work from home mother), I can't sleep the straight eight hours (as I used to, thanks to a day of endless activities). Yet, I was at my best yesterday; efficient, effortlessly (albeit with Kamal's help here and there when he was around in the evening). I blame the rare insomniac moment to an overdose of bedtime activities with Khalish. He demanded me (not the daddy) to draw one truck after another although I had wrapped the evening with a little session of The Day's Lesson. I decided to discipline him with a strict "no", and Kamal switched off all the lights, including the usual night light. Khalish protested. All of us somehow reached Dreamland in the end - we must have been on auto-pilot mode.

In short, truck overdose, yes. Similar effect to caffeine, surprisingly. Even Khalish stirred in his sleep.

All I am thinking now is the time Khalish is wide awake. Could I be as active as I was yesterday with only three-hour sleep? Would I hinder Kamal's work if I were to sleep again at 6:00 a.m. (instead of being awake at that time)? I fervently pray that every single thing is fine during the day. After all, we are seeing my parents later in the afternoon. Khalish could play with Wan while I rest, I fervently pray (again and again). After all, seeing my parents means no cooking (read: more rest for me).

About cooking, I discovered that I can cook with a recipe book on the kitchen counter. Nevertheless, I choose to indulge in Khalish's play sessions than poring over a recipe alone, as Khalish can't be trusted near the kitchen, for a long time, with limited supervision, yet. Which resulted in basic portion of nutrients being thrown into a big pan, almost daily (as I don't cook on outing days), since my two-week stint as SAHM. Kamal and I agreed that the most important aspect of home-cooked meal is the ingredient. We use rice or pasta with low glycemic index, olive or canola oil for stir fried items, least sauces or salt, and, basically, healthier althernatives to ingredients used at most restaurants. Khalish amazed us with a better appetite at home (compared to fancy places).

Ah, aside from a blog post, this insomniac moment also allows me a space to plot a better home management so that I could allocate more time for the recipe book. Or, at least, a tastier art of campak-mencampak.

When More is More

To write here, I had to pull my hand away from Khalish's grip.

He was awake at 7:00 a.m. despite a late bedtime, and I, like any moms, knew the possible tantrum for the lack of rest. Before I could make my way, from the tea and the laptop, to him, I found the boy walking towards me. "Mommy, nak mommy!"

*He held my hand until he reached dreamland again and I asked a favour from Kamal, in a whisper, to bring my laptop to the bedside. I read a blog with parenting topics punched with reality and humour, and, being a typical Eccentric Chech, had a sudden rush to write about my own experience as a (novice) parent.

With episodes after episodes of the so-called terrible two, I found him needing me sweet. As updated in my Facebook status today, I shall take any tantrum (if there is any) easily today. I shall do the laundry, clean the house, and cook for the two of us at leisurely pace, and play more with him. More doodling, more figures from the play doh and those blocks, more reading, more pretend plays, more singing, more exchanges of good banter, and, of course, more cuddling.

* My mother realised how Khalish has always preferred to hold a loved one's hand to go to sleep. He would also move his fingers around, sensing the skin texture probably (as he could differentiate between my hand and the daddy's - the daddy has smoother texture)! It surprised me when my mother told Kamal and I how I behaved similarly when I was his age. Ha! Yet another trait bequeathed from me to him.

Status Update

Noraishah Mohamad Ali Kamil's son loved sushi (although he spat a baby octopus out). Thank you, Rafidah Fique Ramli, for the lunch suggestion. Let's do dim sum next, with more mates.

Sneak Peek: Ramadhan and Syawal in Hong Kong

Today, a month ago, Kamal, Khalish, and I were in Hong Kong with my parents and a brother. Most memorable, yet, yours truly is too occupied with the moment's reality that travelling through Chech: Eccentric time machine has to take a back seat.

One fine day, I promise myself. 

Now, for the Future

My 90-day plan (before being back at 8-to-5 world comes January 2011):

+ With Kamal, find a cosy place to rent adjacent to WOW nutrition club.

+ Save more, and visualise a cosy place to buy within the aforementioned area (hopefully within 2011).

+ Sort the current place for items to pack and those to donate (particularly the old, big apparels - except the maternity wear).

+ Find a good play school cum daycare center for Khalish. 

+ Insert a date only with Kamal in between his job, the tasks, and my time with Khalish.

At the moment, I am learning to be a better person with my son's help. That includes sacrificing my me-time to accommodate to his needs. Pretend play is one of them :).

New low-cost airline launched in Bandar Baru Bangi. 

Low-cost it is, thanks to Khalish's cheap toys.

This, I Write with Heavy Heart

I will always remember you as a person with most exemplary characters. Thank you, for the decision - it was a pleasure to be under your leadership.

Al-Fatihah to Allahyarham Datuk Dr. Ramli Hasan. 

Ole Ole

Kamal, Khalish, and I are back from Pahang. On a Monday morning, when we are also back to the daily routine, it is energising to think of the new experiences:

+ Relationship, revived. It takes all sides to respect each other.

+ D'Ambang Resort, Chini. Basic facilities include WiFi. 

+ Chini-Triang journey. Full of little delights found at villages along the romance and grandeur of Sungai Pahang.

+ Sambal! Cooked by my aunt, with reference to my grandmother's recipe.

+ A great grandmother with six and a half great grandchildren. The latter do not have the former's calmness.

Fascinating Phase

Fascinating Friday, today is. 

For a day that commenced with my raised voice over unfinished breakfast that the son himself requested, every single thing that followed went well. 

Instead of being frustrated with things that swerved from my way, I attempted to practise Jim Rohn's suggestion: be fascinated! Key words: attempted & practise. Those close to me do realise how I could switch moods easily (no thanks to my sensitivity). Thankfully, not often. In fact, it has been eons since my body trembled with anger, or frustration, until recently, when Khalish morphed into a Terrible Two. 

The phase is not exclusive to two-year-olds; Khalish's daily life, of late, simply happened to defy regular routines, with different people, and vast choices - all that might induce rebel in a toddler who has been used to certainty. The parents' mistake, really. Whenever we travelled, we were complacent about leaving Khalish in the grandparents' care with the live-in maid's assistance, which meant, he never broke his routine pattern. We learned.

His tantrum started towards the end of our Hong Kong and Macau tripping. In Macau, he demanded to be out of the hotel, even at bedtime! Then, he found fun in escalators, and demanded to ascend and descend one, countless time. He also demanded to have chocolate all the time. And a lot more demands. Kamal and I introduced to him another side of us called strictness, which were successful, but only after inconsolable tears. 

Back in Malaysia, the tripping continued, from house to house. Aidilfitri! Khalish was so anxious about crowd that he clung on me, or the daddy, for assurance - that he would not lose the only persons he trusted, we thought. Once that particular issue was resolved, another rose. The variety of sweet delicacies available at open houses. Kamal and I know how hyper active our son could be if he got his hands on sugary foods. Often, he would notice the variety and consequently consumed minimal savoury, colourful  meal to save the best for desserts. Once again, strictness, and once again, inconsolable tears. Most of the time, crocodile tears. 

At home, he enjoyed the authority of the word "no", refusing to bathe, or brush the teeth, or eat the foods he earlier requested, or be in the car seat, or play outdoor - all the things he used to love. Now, Kamal would be at work. I was left alone to battle the dark side of Khalish. No time for solution-searching through the Internet or fellow mothers. I merely followed my own inexperienced motherly instinct; some were successful, but most were successful with tears and frustration, for both Khalish and I. 

Of course, there were happy moments :).

I am highlighting the whole predicament because it frustrated specifically me (as Kamal is naturally the calmer other half). It never occurred to me that the usually jovial Khalish would be affected by the so-called terrible two phase. Yesterday, with improved motherly instinct, I eventually came to term that I could be fascinated instead of frustrated. Khalish must have sensed the better aura that he behaved better. That offered me space for more reading. 

To substantiate my improved, but still inexperienced motherly instincts, are the following tips by parents and experts (to manage the situation I have been in):

+ Practise regularity with routines, even when you are travelling. Particularly with meal hour and bedtime. 

+ Set limits. Even with choices. Example: instead of "what would you love for breakfast?", say "would you love cereal or sandwich for breakfast?" (the child would appreciate the power to decide, and the parents would appreciate the time efficiency).

+ Do pray more. Remember, ask, and you shall receive. Affirm, and believe, always. The belief in the affirmation would calm the parents when the child is still defiant about his demand. 

+ Provide two-way communication. Ask the child, even in his tears, what does he precisely want, and the parents may be surprised with the simplicity of the request. If the child is clueless, do offer (limited) activities that he or she loves.

+ Practise discipline. Firm voice and denial of privileges are ones of the various techniques. 

+ The key word is practise, practise, practise (and be fascinated in the process, not frustrated).

Khalish, daddy and I love it when you are contented.

Photos: Hong Kong, September 2010.