Scratch scratch.. Stretch stretch...

A couple of weeks ago, I developed some raised red marks on my bulging tummy. They were very, very itchy, so I thought I have developed some kind of rashes. Asked some friends and colleagues if they have experienced the same thing during pregnancy, even showed some of them the mark, but I got a mixture of different advices.

“Try putting on some medicated powder,” one kakak suggested. “Like Ammens or Agnesia?” I asked back, referring to two well-known brands used by most Malaysian mothers to treat rashes. “Maybe you can try Johnson’s medicated powder. I use it to treat most itchiness in my family”. Oh, okay… but it didn’t work well.

“Try Vaseline,” another kakak advocated. The petroleum jelly? Uh huh. I never thought it can help with reducing itchiness - and in my case, it didn’t.

“Why don’t you go and see a doctor?” yet another kakak suggested.

I took her advice and went to see my family GP last week. Told him about the unsightly red marks and the itchiness I felt. He asked me to lie down to have a good look at these ‘rashes’.

Upon seeing it, he smiled gently, “Nothing to worry about, they are just some stretch marks”

Huh? I’ve been rubbing baby oil with vitamin E on my tummy daily just to prevent stretch marks. I thought they only appear after delivery.

No, the kind doctor corrected my perception. Apparently, it’s quite common for pregnant ladies (75 to 90 percent, in fact, or so according to this article) to develop stretch marks during pregnancy. He clarified that stretch marks occur in the dermis, the elastic, resilient middle layer of the skins that allow skins to retain its shape. Using a rubber-band in his explanation, the doctor explained how the skin becomes less elastic and the connective fibres break when the dermis is constantly stretched over time, causing the markings known as stretch marks.

Oh, okay…

It was rather embarrassing, really – to consult the GP on what I thought was rashes, only to be told that they are harmless stretch marks. (And to think that I’ve been consistently using the baby oil to prevent them, when I did not even recognize what they actually look like…) He advised me to get Strytedin or some other stretch mark cream from any pharmacy.

I got away from the clinic without having to pay for anything, not even a minimal consultation fee. (That’s rare in KL/PJ nowadays.) Immediately went in search of the said cream, but could not find it.

As for now, I’m treating the stretch marks with some olive oil, a gift from a friend who bought it somewhere in Europe, as advised by a friend of hers. According to my friend, her friend who used that particular brand of olive oil (Olivia) has no stretch mark at all after giving birth.

Hmm, hope it’s still not too late for me to eliminate those marks then…

The Guessing Game

If this article is to be believed, then I think it could be a girl…

… I had a bad case of morning sickness earlier on
… Belly resembles a watermelon more than a basketball
… Craved for big fat juicy strawberries
… Not looking quite as good as normal during pregnancy
… Been having more break-outs than even during high school
… Ayah-to-be is not gaining weight along with me

Given a choice, we would still love to have a boy first…
But then again, the baby’s gender doesn’t really matter so long as our child is healthy, cukup sifat and all… kan?

Hitting the big 3-0

“…You’ve already lost 10 percent of your muscle mass. And, on average, you’re almost $20,000 in debt. But don’t despair. At 30, Harrison Ford was working as a carpenter, and neither Oprah nor Jane Austen had found fame. Edvard Munch’s famous painting The Scream? Created at 30.”
- Book of Ages 30

It’s not like I don’t realize that I'm getting old, what with the fine lines beginning to appear at the corner of my eyes and all. But I sometimes still feel like a kid. Friends and cousins laughed upon hearing what I asked from hubby for my birthday – a huge teddy bear. “That sounds like a request coming from a three-year-old, maybe a thirteen-year old – but thirty???”

(Well, I don’t know – what’s wrong with getting a teddy bear at thirty anyway? I’d been rather specific in my request – it must be huge and comfy-soft and very huggable and doesn’t get dirty easily and of good quality so that it can last for many more years to come. Okay, so maybe it’s not just for me – maybe it’s also for my baby…)

Now that I’ve reached one of the significant “agemarks”, I guess it’s time for me to revisit the past years, to learn from my own experiences as well as to take heed of what others have to offer and prepare to brace what is in store for me in the future. It’s not like I’ve never ponder on the meaning of life before – but pondering on this subject matter at different stages of life, I supposed, makes we realise how we change and look at things differently, after going through moments of good laugh, good fun, some pain and some anguish.

Anyway – I guess, now that I’ve hit the big three-oh, based on the average lifespan of a Malay Muslim female living in Malaysia, I have less time on earth to perform good deeds as Allah’s humble servant compared to younger sisters. I have less time to equip myself with knowledge – both duniawi and ukhrawi - in preparing for the hereafter. I also have less time to ‘change the world’ or ‘make a difference’ – but I’m going to try my best, one day at a time.

It’s also time to reflect and be thankful, alhamdulillah, on the fact that I’m doing quite well for an average thirty-year old. Got a well-paid (not highly-paid, but I’m content) stable job, no study loan to worry about, a close-knit family, a loving husband, a child on the way, loads of caring friends, not a single gray hair as yet and in the process of purchasing our own house… All in all – not too bad. Not too bad.

But of course – still have a long way to go before becoming a full-fledge mature and responsible 40-year old. (That’s part of the reason why Rasulullah only became a Rasul after he reached 40 – those younger than 40 are never quite mature enough, especially from the viewpoint of their ‘older-and-wiser’ parents)

Until then, I guess I‘ll just savour each day as they come and keep on living, loving, learning, relearning, unlearning…

#####
By the way – here’s a note of appreciation to all who’ve made my thirtieth birthday a happy one, especially to:

My dearest hubby, who called many times (instead of just making missed calls) throughout the day – beginning from 1.20 a.m. (five minutes before my delivery time as per recorded in my birth certificate), bought me two stuffed black-and-white panda bears – a huge lovely-to-be-hugged (the largest in my collection to date) for me and a smaller version for our baby and also sent me a fine card which, though not a Hallmark, managed to stir the deepest feelings. I look forward to us spending birthdays together (instead of miles away) in years to come, insya Allah.

Jue – for sending the first of many SMSs;

Chah – for sending the first of many YM messages;

Masni – for sending the largest and most colourful YM message;

Shireen – for initiating a round of congratulatory e-mail among fellow officemates and ex-officemates;

Dak One E – for that absolutely wonderful Baker’s Cottage’s Royal Fruit cake;

Queyah – for the most surprising birthday e-card;

Rinie – for the most unexpected phone call;

… and the rest who had formed part of making it a truly beautiful day for me -
Terima kasih.

May all your dreams come true too and may Allah bless always.




"thirteen going thirty... heheheh"



"that huge panda bear..."

On being thankful...

There’s this particular nasyid that has been played and replayed again and again in my car for the last couple of weeks. The tune is catchy, but more importantly, the message is touching. (Yes, I know, admitting that I actually like UNIC’s song is rather lame for someone in my age group – but who cares, anyway?)

Since this nasyid talks about the meaning of being thankful and grateful to the Creator – it suits exactly how I feel today as I hit the big 3-0.

Erti Syukur

Lafazkan kalimah syukur
Lafazkan kalimah itu
Alhamdulillah...

Segalanya yang ku kecapi
Adalah milikMu Ilahi
(Tuhan Maha Pemurah)
Takkan terbalas walaupun sebesar zarah

Kenikmatan yang bertandang
Terkadang tidak dihiraukan
(Lepas dari pandangan)
Dan bila hilang barulah dikesalkan

Adakalanya aku hanyut
Adakalanya aku terlupa
Adakala aku leka
Ampunilah...

Kerana ku manusia
Lemah dan tidak berdaya di sisiMu
Seringkali terlupa nikmatMu
Datang tiada jemu

Bila terhimpit mulalah
Mencari dan menyebut namaMu
Barulah merasai makna sebenar erti syukur
Syukur atas rahmatMu

Rap: Adakala ku hanyut
Adakala ku lupa
Adakala ku leka dan adakala ku alpa
Kerana ku manusia
Lemah dan tak berdaya
Seringkali terlupa nikmat yang Kau kurnia
Ku bersyukur ya Tuhan
Segala pemberian
Walau luas lautan
Bukanlah perbandingan
Ku tingkat keimanan
Ku gilap ketaqwaan
Sebagai perlambangan
Terima kasih ku Tuhan

Onak duri kehidupan
Jatuh bangun sendirian
Ada hikmah yang tersimpan
Yang menguji iman

Bersyukurlah selalu
Sentiasalah redha dan menerima
Tiap ujian tiba bukan diminta
Sebaliknya Allah Maha Mengetahui

Kan ku bertasbih selalu
Bertahmid berzikir padaMu
Sebagai tanda ku nilai
RahmatMu Tuhan

Aku bersyukur Ya Allah
Segala pemberianMu padaku
Seluas lautan pun bukanlah jadi ukurannya
Memang tiada bandingan

Segalanya yang ku kecapi
Adalah milikMu Ilahi
(Tuhan Maha Permurah)
Bukan milikku pinjaman sementara
Syukur Alhamdulillah

Rap: Sesungguhnya solatku,
Amalku, hidupku, matiku
Kerna Allah yang satu
Kuserahkan segala harta jiwa dan raga
Sebagai tanda cinta
KepadaMu Yang Esa

Lyric: Lukhman S
Song: Manis Helma (Hijjaz Records)
Performed by: UNIC – Satu Tekad, 2005

I want to be like her

“Not flesh of my flesh
Nor bone of my bone
But still miraculously my own
Never forget for a single minute
You didn’t grow under my heart
But in it”

- Anonymous.

Mak did not become a mother in the conventional way. She also did not get her three kids through adoption. She never gave birth to any of us – but she became our mother in every other sense when Ayah married her more than twenty years ago.

No, I guess none of us have ever seen her as our stepmother – she’s simply Mak. She married Ayah when she was in her thirties, the right age for a mother with kids our age, ranging from three to nine.

Things changed as soon as Mak entered our lives. My brothers and I had been under our paternal grandparents’ care in Kulim since Ayah’s divorce. In my case – I’d been raised up more by Tok and Tok Ayah compared to staying with my own parents since I was a baby. When Mak insisted that all of us should move and live together in Petaling Jaya and Ayah obliged, I supposed Abang and I were most affected by the transfer.

It wasn’t that easy adapting to having a proper mother and going back to school in a new place. Abang and I had missed school for almost a year following Ayah’s divorce – Ayah felt that there was not much point when we kept bouncing from one school to another. When we were in Kulim, where my grandparents lived, our biological mother would came over and forced us to go back to Sg Petani with her. Yes, forced – sometimes she had to ask for assistance from a few teachers to practically hauled us into the car before she could drove us to Sg Petani. Whenever we were in Sg Petani though, Ayah would came to pick us up after school and we would happily entered the car and returned home to Kulim. After a few repeated similar incidents, Ayah stopped sending us to school and instead taught us at home – with the aid of many exercise books and TV Pendidikan.

But of course, off-and-on home tutoring by my father did little in preparing us for a new adventure in Petaling Jaya. Our Kedahan accent was obvious and we knew little English – when it was a norm for other pupils to converse in English in that urban school. Once I got 19/100 for an English test and I got teased all the time for my ‘weird’ accent. However, I managed to make some friends who did not mind my accent and my poor English and the fact that I wore baju kurung and tudung when most girls my age were more often clad in pinafores.

Life changed in so many ways as for the first time in my life I learned to know what it felt like to have a mother around. Yes, prior to that, Tok was the one who raised me up – fed me, made sure I bathed twice a day, sent me to learn Al-Quran after school, scolded me when I misbehaved. But it was only after Mak came into my life, I learned that a mother’s duty, among others, was to ensure that homework was done on time, Al-Quran recital was checked and corrected, school uniforms were cleaned and neatly pressed daily, extra books were bought to increase our interest in lessons learned at school, all meals were prepared and taken accordingly, and ensure that time was spent to listen to our worries and insecurities, to smooth our anxieties, to calm us from our fears, to kiss and make our wounds better and not laughed out loud when the 10-year-old daughter was such a coward that she insisted on somebody to wait right outside the bathroom whenever she took a shower.

Mak took time to teach us English, purchased and read story books by Enid Blyton to us and answered our endless queries on new words. Mak personally made sure that we could read and khatam the Quran by the age of twelve, at the latest. Mak spent some time after work to get to know our friends personally when she let us invited them over to have tea or play ping-pong at our house.

As we grew older and not much wiser in our teenage years, Mak helped us settling disputes whenever crisis arose at school. Both Abang and I got into some trouble with our teachers when we each reached sixteen. Ayah quickly blamed us for it – but Mak lend her ears to us, to find out our side of stories. She was the strong anchor that held us together whenever my brothers and I felt rebellious at Ayah’s conservative way of handling things. Mak was the one we ran to, who would supply endless patience, wisdom and love as only a true mother could.

Just like any true mothers, we had our moments of disagreements too – but all mothers should be allowed to have their moments of weaknesses, of having insecurities and despair in bringing up their kids, right?

As we grow even older and supposedly more mature as young adults, Mak continued to be our major consultant in seeking ideas and perspectives. Abang goes to Mak for advices on this and that as a self-entrepreneur. Adik, now a University student, who was a toddler when Mak first welcomed us as her children, still runs to Mak for guidance and opinions.

As for me – Mak is just the person I want to be like when I grow older.

Things I wish they have known during the PAC

The invitation to be a facilitator for a PTD Assessment Centre (PAC) programme a few weeks ago came as a surprise, but one that I relished. I thought it might be interesting to watch possible PTDs-to-be in action before they undergo any formal training and I was right – it was indeed a worthy experience.

Yes, I saw a few familiar faces among the participants, including my junior from college and my best friend’s wife. However, the facilitators had been advised (read: warned) not to be or seen to be too friendly with the participants – and so I kept my distance.

It was my first experience as a facilitator – but I guess it wasn’t that difficult or worrying to be in the seat of a facilitator compared to being one of the assessed participants. Still, a few of my fellow facilitators confessed that at first it could be quite a daunting task to give instructions and provoke the participants during the activities – but it always got better after one or two activities.

There are a few lessons and values instilled among the PTDs that I have learned to appreciate more since my formal training in Intan four years ago. Things I wish some good candidates have known during the PAC, such as:

* Volunteering is good. Dominating is not. If one of your peers volunteer to take over any task after you have done so – make way for them;

* It is just as important to listen to what others have to say as to voice out your opinion. So, speak up, but do give consideration for other people’s views too;

* Never say “I can’t” when you are invited to present for the group. Even when you know your BM or English is not that good, just give it a try first. The main thing is that you dare to step forward and rise up to the challenge;

* A good diplomat does not need to raise his or her voice unnecessarily to emphasis a point – how it is said and one’s body language could help drive any of one’s point home. And no, there is no need to respond defensively or aggressively upon any provocation, imagined or otherwise;

* Everyone should use the given 5 minutes effectively for public speaking. Less than 4 minutes could mean that you lack confidence and just want to rush things to get them quickly over with. Over 5 minutes is pointless because the panel stopped awarding any point after the bell is rung twice;

* Avoid talking on everybody’s favorite topic. After a while, it gets a bit tiring to hear people talking about the same thing again and again and again. During the recent sessions, social ills and ICT were the top topics chosen by the participants – and yes, they became dull rather quickly;

* Posture speaks a lot. Stand straight, eyes front, shoulders back, use gesture as appropriate and no hands in pockets or behind your back. Make eye contact by scanning the whole audience and change facial expression to emphasise points;

* Less is more. Covering 10 tips on how to be a good parent is too much for a 5 minutes speech. Alternate your volume, alternate your speed and stop for pauses as you move from one point to another;

* Keep it simple. Give a concise and precise introduction and stick to simple English if you think you’ll have some trouble pronouncing some ‘big words’. The impact you make during the introduction can hook or lose the audience’s immediate attention. And no, telling a well-known (lame) joke does not make a riveting introduction;

* Even when you know that you won’t be joining any physical activity due to some constraints, just be attired appropriately when asked to do so. It’s part of what PTDs refer to as esprit de corp;

Oh, I've enjoyed the experience as a facilitator tremendously. Enjoyed provoking thoughts and watched people changing their decisions, enjoyed challenging some participants to do more than they thought they were able to, enjoyed pondering on some of the public speeches, enjoyed cheering the participants on during the run; enjoyed acting as Yang Dipertua Dewan during the debate – and enjoyed the delicious strong black kopi kampung as could only be found in Intan…

The speech I enjoyed most? It was on values learned from The Apprentice.

You are Loved, Ayah - today and always

It's Ayah's birthday today. The beginning of many, many birthdays this month. Mak's birthday is next week - yes, Ayah and Mak were born exactly a week apart. Mine is somewhere in the middle - five days after Ayah's and two days before Mak's. Two of my uncles and two of my cousins are celebrating their birthday in May (in fact, Ayah Lang's birthday is also today). And don't get me started on my friends' birthdays... (then there's Labour Day, Mother's Day, Teacher's Day... you get the drift...)

Too bad that 050505 is a day that will be remembered by many as the day on which the price of fuel hiked up all of a sudden - but still, I guess my dad would have other better reason(s) to remember this day. Like having his son-in-law beating his daughter at wishing him happy birthday... And having a prospective daughter-in-law calling him up to wish happy birthday too... I pray that other things in other sections of his life are flourishing well too...

I don't think Ayah has ever read my blog - but I hope he knows that it's not just at special times like this, but each and every day, he is loved far more than words can ever say! I hope things go well his way and Allah will bless him always.

P/S: Note the time I reserved to publish this particular entry - 05:05, 050505... Cool, eh? And 5 happens to be my favorite number...