My Hijrah

It's New Year again. Awal Muharram was on 29th of December. It's Hijrah time. Hijrah the Prophet Muhammad SAW way was over long long time ago. But Hijrah for me has never really started.I feel I should start really doing some changes. Well, I have a few resolutions. I hope I will commit to them, I pray God I will commit to them, knowing how 'liat' I could be. New Year the Roman-way is just one day away, December 2008 is always over. How time has left us.

Dec 21 1989 - A a gloomy December
M went to see Allah and has been gone for 19 years. May he continue resting in peace there. Lambat atau cepat, kita akan berjumpa juga, insyaallah. I still miss you, although these days I have to really think to remember how you looked like. I have to look at your pictures anyway. But the pictures is so old, an indication of how long you have left us.

Dec 6 2003
A's birthday. She's 5 years old. She's got a Barbie set which she had wanted and mentioned to us countless times. But as of today, the barbie girl just lies there without care. 'She' is as good as non-exist to A.

Dec 27-Dec 29
Just a small escape to Port Dickson. A place that suits our time and budget. A and Sy had pretty good time in the pool and beach. Good enough for us I suppose. Well, we have to live within our budget. Got to gather with my old buddy from varsity time. She with two children and husband. Yes, good enough for me.

Dec 20 - Bonus time.
Hahaha. It's gone within few days. We have a lot of obligations.

Dec 8 - Raya Haji.
Went back to Malacca and Terengganu. Spent a few days in each place. Am has quitted his job. A good move since the company is almost closed anyway. Still, I hope it will survive. I hope the management will find way to stay afloat and make profit then.

Throughout December and rest of 2008.
I forgot again to make budget for new tombstones for Grandma's grave.

Sy Turns Three ..

Well, well, well ...

He's 3 years old now. Sy got a remote controlled stunt car one day before his birthday. By October 28, the day of his Birth-Day, the car's spare tyres were broken. That happened even before Sy cut and eat his carrot cake. Yes, I made carrot cake for him. Simply because I don't know many cakes to bake and because I like carrot cake, so do Sy and the rest of us.

Enter Day 3 after his birthday, he lost half of his interest in the car. Now, almost one week after, his interest only remains in the car's remote control, which he sometimes uses as a handphone. The car remains there untouched, most of the times. But once the sister touches the car, suddenly his interest comes back, in full! And he thinks he's cute, by doing that!!!

A had 'her convocation' day on Sunday. She looked really happy, as we just let her play with her friends, running around freely, something she is seldom allowed to do.
The event was a bit chaotic, being the Kemas division's first of such event. But then, if you had to handle more than 500 children and hundreds of parents at the same time, any event could easily become chaotic.
Still, I think the organiser has managed quite well. To be honest, I really enjoyed the children's performances. Although far from perfect, I could see they really enjoyed themselves and tried to give their best, and that's most important to me. We stayed until almost the end of the show. But I know Am didn't quite enjoy it. I could see from his face. He dozed off 80 per cent of the time. Really, even if I think hard enough for like 10 years, I'm sure I still can't tell what he enjoys and what he doesn't. Some things are just hard to tell ...

but,

Sometimes, being at such an event makes me feel that I actually DO have a life, that my life is not only around two children and a husband, that there are other things besides our home sweet home and unfriendly workplace.

I just want to be NORMAL ...

One Good TV Drama

I've seen the cerekarama, like more than three times. But the last time it was replayed on TV, it still made me cry. It's hard to come by local or international dramas that linger with you. But this one does. And surprisingly, it's still within the stereotype 'full of air mata' types of malay dramas that local TV stations play and replay over and over. Only, it is much better because of the briliant performance of the actors, especially three of the actors, Eizlan Yusof and the two children actors - I can't remember their names. But they were really good. I was told one of them is actually the son of a famous director.

The title of the drama is Senafas Takbir Terakhir. Wan Maimunah was as good as she always is, only this time she played a 'tougher' role that didn't require her to cry much. Sometimes, I like her that way. She has cried in so many dramas that it's ceased to affect me much. But it's Eizlan that really got me stuck to the TV screen. Besides being goodlooking, he also has that 'sungguh kesian' face which really fit the character as a father who was separated from his son, for doing the wrong thing, at the wrong place and the wrong time.
He got himself into trouble and ended up 'being prisoned' by bad people, leaving his son alone and crying in a cheap hotel room. The scene really touches my heart. A child, who loves his father so much, suddenly found out he is left alone in a strange place with no money, no food and no father. To him, his father must have hated him to have done that. He has no idea that some other situations could also separate him from his father. But the feeling of being left alone would linger in his mind forever. The child's acting was so convincing, you would end up crying with him.

Fast forward, the son (Ako) grew up to be 'quite successful', securing a good corporate post and dating a pretty girl from a rich family. Eizlan (funny, I can't remember his character's name) just came out from the prison and got a job as the driver for the girl's father (surprisingly, there are actually the goodhearted rich after all) and started looking for his separated son. Well, we could expect how the rest of the story continued ....

It's not the story that really touches my heart. It's the characters. The final moment, when they finally met was malam raya. Ako was visiting his girlfriend's family. When he came out from the car, he saw Eizlan, his father, standing and looking his way already with slow and quiet recognition. Speechless and like 'starstruck', Eizlan played his character really, really well. He was really superb. And just Ako was about to start figuring out who Eizlan was (if you were 9 years old at the time your father left you, chances were u would still recognise him 10 or 20 years after that, especially if he was as oustanding physically as the actor), some bad guys who had been waiting for Eizlan's release, for a revenge, approached and shot him on the chest a couple of times. And that was another moment when I felt tears in my eyes. The look on Eizlan's face before he fell to his death. It was 'the blank recognition' look. It 'was the longing for his son' look. The 'sesalan and rasa bersalah' look. Yes, Eizlan was really superb!

And that kind of story happens in real life. Father and child separated due to certain circumstances that are not their faults. Fate has it that way. And finally when they meet, God has better plans for one of them.

It's sad, but still true.

No car, No travel, Less Expenditure

Our car has been at a repair workshop since about two weeks ago. We got into a minor accident while on the way to Trg for raya on Sept 29. It was raining heavily and the visibility was bad, and there was a lot of water on the highway. I didn't know how it actually happened because I'd fallen asleep for quite a while. When I opened my eyes, I realised the car was spinning, but nobody was panicking. Am was looking 'almost' relaxed and the children were laughing at the backseat. I was the only passenger who panicked!



Thanks Allah, We were all safe. The car only hit the divider and no other cars hit us. We continued our journey and only sent the car for repair after we came back to KL, almost one week after raya.



Now Am rides a motorbike to his workplace. For two weekends, we brought the children makan-makan and jalan-jalan, by riding the commuter. It was fun, the children enjoyed the rides and thought they were cool, taking the commuter. I was all game, at least I thought I was. I don't know about my partner. He didn't smile and say much, hard to tell how he felt. I hope he enjoyed the ride too ....



I has been raining almost everyday in the past few weeks. It is 'challenging' for Am, I suppose, as he has to brave the rain, no matter what, to reach the office. But I'm sure he didn't mind much as he knows that it is the same with me. I brave the rain almost everyday too, on my feet! Well, you know how they say it ... Live within your means.



Motorbikes are not a very bad thing. Am used to ride a motorbike when he was younger, and I rode with him too. Funny, I remember we were happy, much happier, when we rode a motorbike, even when we were in the rain. How come we were happier?



I read Jeremy Clarkson's column about motorbikes. He doesn't seem to like motorbikes that much. He even considers bikes as suicidal. But still, his points made me laugh... kinds of make my day.



Clarkson writes:

" ... Bikes and cars are both forms of transport, but they have nothing in common. Imagining that you can ride a bike because you can drive a car is like imagining you can swallowdive off a 90ft cliff because you can play table tennis.

However, many people are making the switch because they imagine that having a small motorcycle will be cheap. It isn’t. Sure, the 125cc Vespa I tried can be bought for £3,499, but then you will need a helmet (£300), a jacket (£500), some Freddie Mercury trousers (£100), shoes (£130), a pair of Kevlar gloves (£90), a coffin (£1,000), a headstone (£750), a cremation (£380) and flowers in the church (£200).
In other words, your small 125cc motorcycle, which has no boot, no electric windows, no stereo and no bloody heater even, will end up costing more than a Volkswagen Golf...."

However, he admits that running a bike is much cheaper than a car.


Yes, it is indeed. Am only spends about RM5 on petrol everyday. That's sure a big difference from what he as to pay for car fuel. But sometimes, I still can't help but feel worried knowing he's out there riding a wall-less small thingy in heavy rain.

But then, like one person who responded to Clarkson's column writes:

"I bought a 50cc motorbike/moped for my son @ 16 yrs. He had it for 1 year, fell off a couple of times & no injuries. At 17 he refused to ride it cause he & his mother said it was dangerous. I bought a 1.1ltr Citroen Saxo, he was killed 2 mths later after hitting a pole side on @ 40mph doing a favour." (Pls accept my condolences)

You'd never know for sure what would actually end your life. Speed doesn't necessarily kill you. So, what does? Well, if only we knew .... But one thing for sure. When the TIME comes, then it's definitely the TIME. No run, no hide.

Allah, please save us all.

Allah, please save Malaysia

The results of the Permatng Pauh by-election turned out as expected by many.
AI has scored big, no surprise. Who is AS, compared to 'ever-changing' AI.

Oh, how I hate hypocrites!!! The worst of hypocrites are populist hypocrites who are always ready to sacrifice even their soul to garner support for themselves.

Allah, please save Malaysia.

Brother M

1989
Bro M was 16 going 17, tall, thin and lanky with short straight hair, though sometimes I could see some curls. He just started a liking in grooming himself, taking more time in front of the mirror and 'preening' more often than before. Of late, he had been jovial and smiling a lot. I can still remember his smile on that sunny day. He was walking home from school and I was on the way to the shop nearby. When he saw me he flashed that smile, but said nothing. I found it a bit weird, putting me in a dejavu, like I'd seen that smile before, except it was not from him. M just entered first school term for that year. He was in form 5, his very important year. I was waiting for my SPM results and he was bracing for his SPM. I always considered M as smart and above average. I think, if things went by the plans, he could have been even smarter than Bro MZ.

Early 1980s-1989
In primary school when I was in standard 6 and he standard 5, he was already a co-student head, together with another standard 6 pupil. Most of the time, he led the school assembly. I still remember looking at him standing straight in front of the pupils... Small and thin. I don't remember feeling proud or anything, because (based on ujian penilaian darjah lima) he was the smartest and it was natural for him to be given the 'job'.
For secondary education, M went to one of the best boarding schools in Terengganu. A science school. He made our parents proud. However, soon after that we didn't see each other much as I was studying in a different boarding school in town. Not the best one, of course! I was just an average student. When I went home on weekends, most of time, he didn't, or vice versa. But Mother and Father sometimes visited him at his hostel. He was doing well, they said... at the beginning at least. After that, things started to change. He hardly came home. There was one time when we didn't hear anything from him for about two months. When we asked the school, they said they had no idea because he also didn't attend classes. I don't know what was the actual problem. But it seemed he'd got himself around the wrong types of friends. He probably had a 'freedom shock' as well as prior to that he was never away from us.
One time, he and his group, we understood, had got into a fight with another group, which prompted M to go MIA. Nothing was confirmed though. M didn't talk much about it. He however did come back to school, just in time for SRP. When we visited him before the exam, he told us he was just staying nearby the school, at a surau. He looked messy and very thin, I almost cried. His pants had a hole in the thigh. Mother cried of course, looking at the state he was in.
After SRP, he came home. I could see he didn't hope much. But when the results were announced, he still look dissapointed. Although he passed with not too bad results, compared to other kids in our kampung, he didn't qualify to continue studying at the same school. Probably, it finally dawned on him that he was not to see his friends anymore. He looked sad, very sad indeed. And I think I saw regrets too.

M was transfered to a school not too far from our kampung, not a bad school. But there was transportation problem. There was no school bus to the school and he had to take the normal bus. He was late almost everyday. And probably for that reason, and others that we don't know, even now, he was transferred to another school which was probably nearer to our place. Even Father and Mother didn't know about that until after a few months.

So that December 1989, he entered his first school term in Form 5. December was in monsoon season. It was raining everyday. I was 'vacationing' at home after SPM. M and I were closed, being only one year apart. We talked a lot and spent time together a lot. He was sure I would get first grade. And he asked for my old school books to study because he also wanted to score first grade, so he said. One fine day, he piled the books from the rack onto the floor in my room, saying he would take them later. I was glad he at least intended to do well in SPM.

December 1989
First week at a new school. M looked okay. Because there was no science stream class at the school, he now had to start studying literature. Everybody was in art stream class. He had no complain, he was just doing fine, I guess. He also started showing some interest in girls, keeping some photos of sexy pretty girls he'd goten from magazines and of some of my juniors from my picture collection. It was a normal transition. I was happy that he looked contented, although sometimes I noticed hints of sadness, there in his eyes and expression. He seemed to sometimes freeze with time, losing in his own thoughts. Because of that, many memorable and unforgettable things had happened.

One not-raining day, after he got home in his first/second week of school, he put on a towel and went to one of our aunts' house nearby and brought back few 'ice cream Malaysia'. While offering one to me, he started eating his. I couldn't remember the colour of his ice cream. Was it red or green, or orange? But after a while, he looked at me, a few coins in his hand, and suddenly said, 'oh, lupa nak bayar'. He gave me a broad grin and started running back to Aunt's house.

Another day during the second week after school, he was at Grandma's house with me, chatting, mostly about girls and becoming rich. He said if he was rich, he would build a big house surrounded with water, like one house he saw in the nearby kampung, and of course there would be a pretty wife and us living with him in the house.
He also cracked a few of jokes, one that still remains vividly in my head was about death. It sounded improper, but it was, well, funny. It went like this ... Somebody just died and been buried. So the Malaikat came and began the question and answer session. Malaikat asked, "Ma rabbuka (who's your God)". The dead person then answered, "Sudah gaharu cendana pula, sudah tau bertanya pula"....!!! Before he went back to Mother's house next door that night, he gave me this 'advice', "tak usah buka lampu lah masa tidor ... nanti bila dah mati, dalam kubur tak ada lampu pun". Well, that was because, I slept with the light on. I was afraid of darkness and to this day, still are, although only sometimes.

Around this time also (at least in December) he managed to convince me to have the shortest hair cut I'd ever had as at that time. And of course, he did the cutting himself, much to the disproval of Grandpa who said girls shouldn't have hair cuts that looked like boys.
It was during one of the days of that week that he gave me that weird smile which put me in a dejavu like I had seen the smile before, perhaps in one of my dreams. And gathered the books from the rack and piled them on the floor in my room.

One night during that week I woke up to a 'screaming' sound, only to find a big green grasshopper screaming so loud on my pillow, near my ears. I was stunned and did what I thought best at the moment, covering the grasshopper with a water glass. In the morning when I checked upon it, it was already dead, out of oxygen probably.

Since the past one to two weeks, M had been good to Z, our youngest brother, who prior to that was 'his public enemy no.1". They even played soccer in the evening in front of our house together with Az, M's favorite cousin. The gate was the goal post.

On Tuesday that week, we didn't chance to talk much. M came back from school and spent time sleeping. That night when I went to Mother's house, he was already asleep although it was only 9pm. In the morning, I didn't really meet him either as I was half-asleep, only hearing his voice. He came to take his school shirt which he'd hanged at Grandma's anjung, and then proceeded to Aunt's house nearby to ask her to iron the shirt. We were one big extended family, you see ... He then proceeded his journey to school.

July 2 2008
It's M's birthday, he's 35. It has been long time ....

We plan, but Allah decides. It had been written in Luh Mahfuz that M was to be 'lent' to us for 16 years, to be our sibling, son, friend, nephew and all he was destined to. He helped colour our life, give us varieties, stories and memories. He was my best friend during childhood. Teman bermain, teman menangis, teman bergaduh, teman makan, teman berbual, teman untuk buat nakal dan teman pelbagai. When we were small, in the evening we would stand near the window in Grandma kitchen, on a 'tin biskut merry', almost everyday, waiting for Father to come home from work. We clapped when we saw him with his bicycle approaching the gate. Life was difficult but we didn't feel it, because we were just happy kids.

I've almost forgotten how close we were when we were little. Sometimes, during my lonely time when I have time to go through old stuff, I look at M's picture and feel weird that I actually had another brother, who once was very close to me, but he is not here. I feel weird because he's not here. It's like a dream that he's not here. That he passed away almost 18 years ago. That on that Wednesday, he involved in an accident. That he remained unconcious in the ICU ward until he died the following day, Thursday 21 1989. During his 'sleep', he only mentioned few times 'Mother, Mother, Mother ... I want to go home'.

But I know it was fated that way, that he dropped out his first school, to go to the second school, and then to the third school, to meet a friend there and ride a motorbike with him, only to crash in an accident near the school. How else could he have ended up at the place of the accident if his life had not been planned carefully that way. Allah Maha Mengetahui.

Yes ... it has been a long time ... 18 years. Mother still terkilan that she couldn't provide enough for him. Father hardly talks about him. I know if he does he is just like Mother. I had caught him in moments of sadness. But I pretended I didn't see. Life was difficult when we were small, like I said, and we hardly had the luxuries others might have. But we were happy. M was happy. Z and MZ were happy. We didn't miss what we'd never had.

We only miss M ...

Al-fatihah. Semoga rohmu dicucuri rahmat. Semoga Allah masih sudi mendengar doa ku yang sudah sekian lama tersasar.

Of patience and compassion

Sya is 2 years and 8 months and A is 4 years and 6 months old. How time flies... and sometimes I feel like I can't really keep the pace. But they're beautiful kids, a gift that brings cheer and happiness... despite the 'disasters' they sometimes create. Well, they could be very mischievous at times. But then whose kids don't get naughty sometimes or all the time?

My only complain is myself. I'm not a perfect mother. I shout, use bad words sometimes, pinch or cane them, and threaten them. I feel I don't have good disciplines either. Due to my job nature, I can't really wake up early in the morning or be with them all the time at night. Sometimes, it makes me feel so lousy. Should I change this job? But then the good side to it is I can be with my kids during the day although I may not be in 'sober' foam in the morning. I can also fetch A from school myself. And feed them lunch, read with them, watch cartoons with them. But in the process, I more often than not tend to scold and 'intimidate' them a lot. Now I'm thinking, although I have more time with them, does it mean that I spend quality time with them.

I know experts would say be patient, have compassion, talk nicely .... but those are things you find in a parenting book and sometimes, are just good to sell the book and remain in the book. It's so difficult to apply in real life. Sometimes I wonder if the writer has ever raised child/ren. At the end, I realise I do things according to my way, what could/couldn't be done depending on the situation. And most of the time, what can yield quick obedience and understanding from the kids. I also realise no kids are the same. Even if they come from the same womb. They can be so different from each other like chalks and charcoals.

But all in all, I'm quite proud of myself. If I could mark my own report card, I probably gave myself a B or B+.

A can read and do simple maths, is I think quite mature for her age, being able to help me with simple chores in the house (depending on her moods) like washing the dish, hanging the clothes, tidying up her bed. She can be a conversation partner too. (Thinking about it, she's such a sweet baby, my baby, I shouldn't have scolded and caned her today. I should have been more patient with her. She's not even five yet.)

Sy is such an active toddler. He's like a 'drama queen' and always act 'over'. He's overactive, very talkactive, very manja, very sensitive, very funny, very friendly ... he's like 'very' everything. Despite all these, he's already graduated toilet training since April and only wears diapers when he sleeps at night. That already saves us about RM50 per month. I can't help but be proud of his achievement.

Children are just like children. Sometimes, I'm afraid if my harsh ways may bring hatred in them. Many times, I found myself asking them if they love me and Am. And they always say 'sayang sangat-sangat'. And they always look forward to spending time with us. They're just children and look up at us as their heroes, their saviours.

But I'm just a far-from-perfect mother who always loses her patience and nags a lot ....

Of Tea and Ice Lychee Tea ...

KL is a 'hot' city. Sometimes, the weather is so hot you can hardly open you eyes. You kind of walk with your head down most of the time to avoid the heat. It's quite dangerous to walk that way though because you can't really see what's coming in or behind your way. It's ok if you bump into some people occasionally, but what if the wrong people, the types that can snatch your handbag, bracelet, necklace or yourself away, bump into you? So, probably, we should start walking with umbrellas, or big hats (the mexican type probably) more often, or better still with big sunglasses the Victoria Beckham style. Hmmm ... not quite fond of sunglasses though, because they remind me of Mrs Beckham!!!

While you're waiting for a taxi in the blazing sun, probably you start thinking of cold drinks, anything cold. I realise these days, while 'sunbathing', I keep thinking of ice lychee tea. Cold, fresh with some lychees and of course tea, especially from the mamak stall we (me and my partner) frequent almost every working day. The tea comes in a big glass which probably costs us about RM4 or RM5 (I don't really know because I don't 'meet' the cashier), but it's so delicious. It's actually more delicious than lychee syrup.

I've always like tea, and coffee of course. Compared to coffee, particularly instant coffee, tea is much cheaper, especially if you buy it in the loose form. The uncang ones are more expensive, but can still be considered cheap. You can even get much 'below the par' price if you buy the 'cap masjid' type, the almost 'hancur' one which is flavoured with syrup, pandan, or whatever and which color is so dark, it's almost red. But funny, it's actually so delicious and many people in kampungs like it. In fact, teh tarik is also tastier with the 'cap masjid' tea.

Tea always reminds me of Grandma. In Ramadhan, Tea O was our 'wajib' drink during sahur. We drank tea without creamer or milk, that has always been how most people in Terengganu drink their tea until these days. After eating our rice, we would drink our tea. Grandma prepared the tea in a stainless steel pot. It was not very sweet, because she knew I didn't like it very sweet. Usually, for me, she would pour half of the glass with the already prepared tea and another half with plain hot water. She knew exactly how I liked it. That reminds me of how 'manja and mua' I was at that time. I would sip it until the end of sahur time ... hmmm ... still remember how delicious it was, the taste, the smell. But of course tea at that time was just a cap masjid one, not the fancy types we have these days. And there was no Ice Lychee Tea either.

One ramadhan here in KL, I tried making tea the Grandma style, but somehow, the taste was not the same, the flavour, the smell was different although I made sure I used the cap masjid tea and the right portion of water ... then I realised, I couldn't and will not forever get the same tea I drank when I lived with Grandma, because obviously Grandma was not here ... and will never be here anymore. Things aren't and will never be the same. Al-Fatihah.

Sick of complaints

It's a difficult era... Prices of all neccesities and un-neccesities have gone up. Some even have skyrocketed to a level not affordable and 'grabable'. People everywhere are talking endlessly about this. There're a lot of dissatisfaction and complaints. And honestly, some people (myself included) started to feel sick of complaints ... that this and that and these and those people don't and do this and that and that these and those people should subsidise these and those .... blah ..blah ... blah. It seems Malaysians are so used to things subsidised that once the real situation hits, people start to claw each other.

Some may think that I'm filthy rich like they would say to ministers and anybody who happens to hold high power in the government. Well, I have a mountain of debts (sounds like the AKPK ad on TV) and I probably fall under the category "Kais pagi makan petang atau malam" ... but is it really any of the ministers' fault that I have debts and don't have a lot of money??? I rather blame it on my not working hard enough to earn more and to my favoring day-offs over overtimes, or to my overspending, perhaps.

There is the tendency these days that if times are difficult, blame in on the government, the filthy rich, the corporate people, the royal gang and so on, and never own selves... and why must find ways to blame others? Why not find ways to make things workable and better? We're so pampered, so spoilt that we don't know how to survive on our own.

Isn't it just normal in life to have masa senang dan susah?

A Starts Kindergarten

A started kindergarten last Friday. Why was at the end of the week? Simply because we had been indecisive as to where to put her. We'd been thinking of CEC R.e.a.l Kid, Beaconhouse, smart reader pre-schools, etc, etc. But in the end, we settled with a government kindergarten, which's only few walking distance from our house.
What happened to the 'kiasu' inclination in me? Yes, Hubby said I'm a bit kiasu. But then, is it wrong if you want the best for your kids? Nevermind if the best could turn out to be just "average best". To me, what is important is that the intention is noble! :). The rest, I would learn and be informed along the looking-out process.
We only registered her until the last minute. Lucky, the teacher didn't have the heart to turn her away. Probably because she's so cute eh ... :). Well, the teacher said there were only 4 girls in the class, and it'd be nicer to have more girls, that's why she got the place.
Why didn't I sent her to the other kindergarten we'd been eyeing since she was 2 years old? I suppose, because of the first impression I got when I first talked to its representative. 'Don't forget to bring the RM1300 deposit when you come to register. We still have the place and the class will start in the third week,' the representative answered me with a very business-like tone. Nothing wrong about it of course. But being so petty and trivial as I have always been, I started thinking 'out of the box'. Well, you see, I was talking about sending a 4 years old kid to a kindergarten here ... not to a beauty course. I know well of the reality of education these days. But how I wish she didn't make it sound so plain obvious that money is above anything else.
So, in the end, there A was on her first day in a 25-kids-a-class government kindergarten, enjoying 'her freedom'. Hubby, who had sent her earlier, waited outside the class to make sure she'd feel comfortable. Well, you see, kids like to cry and look for Mother or Father on their first day in school. But not my kid. So, Hubby left for work, feeling 'abandoned and forgotten'! (I suppose, the way he related me the story). And we paid RM91 for two sets of school uniform, one set of sports attire, insurance and name tag, among others. The monthly payment is only RM20. Books and stationery are free. Wow, I really feel like I've got a very good bargain.
How about the pre-school quality then? Well, I'm not really worried, because I know, most of the burden has always been on me, not the teacher. I've been teaching, or rather showing, her ABC, words, numbers, simple maths, on top of various pre-school videos, modules (told you, I'm bit kiasu kan!) bla, bla, bla, since she was a baby. Going to kindergarten is just for 'formality' and to make her getting use to 'some socialising ethics'. And A has been to a childcare centre since she was 2 months old ... I'm pretty sure she've learnt some 'socialising ethics' already.

My mission, next, is to find a good 'guru mengaji'. Mother said I should start enrolling her in mengaji class, or at least getting her familiarise with Quranic verses. I'll look around. If it's so hard to find I probably have to teach her myself. We'll see...

Welcome 2008

I'm in second day of 2008. Wow, time passed by very fast eh ... especially when we're in mid-30s, no?. When I was younger, new resolutions seemed like a must come new years. Friends, close or not would ask, apa azam baru? My azam would always be to be a better person. How much 'better'? I myself coudn't answer that. Why, because I never really actually had new resolutions. Most of the times, I couldn't complete any resolutions in one year. There were even some which I had to discard altogether as they were unrealistic, or, rather, I was too lazy to
work towards them.

So, apa azam baru this year?
Lemme think .... ermmm ... there're many actually. As I get older, it seems I want more in life. Most of all, I want to be debt-free. Is it possible to be debt-free in this age when many things are purchased via loans? Big question ... a bit unrealistic maybe. But still, it would be nice if we can live debt-free. Debts can really be a big burden.
I also want to be a very good example to my kids. A 'perfect' somebody. Possible, no? hahaha ... I'm not even a quarter of that, how could I be then? Nevermind .... I'll try.

Probably, the only azam which is realistic is to give a little brother/sister to my kids. I'm not very young anymore. Maybe this year's just the right time. We'll see...

For the record, A turned 4 on Dec 6, and on Dec 21, Bro M's gone for 18 years. I still miss him ... Semoga Allah mencucuri rahmat ke atas rohnya.