The other day when I was rushing to make it for the 11am mass at St. Anthony, having had to rush between the house to check on Micah and the rehearsal for an event I was emceeing for, I realized that I could not make it on time, and I screamed in frustration, before I broke down and cried...
Part of why I cried was probably because I was so exhausted juggling everything from my baby to double jobs and then church. Also, I may had been angry at my husband for not being around that particular weekend to attend a friend's wedding 4-hours drive away, especially when he knew I had an event to emcee for.
But as I was crying in the car that day, while also trying to figure out what exactly was I so sad and angry for, it hit me, and I said it out loud, "Lord I'm sorry for trying to justify every bad decision I make..." I realized I place to many blames in people and situations, and giving excuses for the things that I could've or should've done but didn't, and for the things that I couldn't have or shouldn't have done, but did...
That day for instance, I could have woken up at 5am to attend the 7am mass instead, knowing that I have a rehearsal for the rest of the day. But I didn't, simply because I wanted to have that extra 10 minutes of sleep which prolonged for another 1hour.
It's a small thing, not being able to make it to mass... But why did I cry so hard, like somebody had died?
The truth is, I died. I have been dead for a very long time now... I have a wonderful life; a job I love and pays me well; my wonderful and incredible baby son; my loving, helpful and understanding husband; my wonderful and ever understanding family and in-laws... I have great friends and companions to hang out during weekends with, or get crazy with... But truth is, there is a huge void in me, and I know exactly Who can fill in that void...
I miss being that joy-filled, 15-year-old who just found forgiveness and renewal in Christ's unconditional love, and envisioned her life to be sin-free, dedicated to serving others and God faithfully... I miss that 18-year-old who discovered that being sin-free and dedicated to God wasn't as easy as she thought it would have been. She failed and fell, but God brought her up again. And as useless as she thought the whole idea of renewal was, only to keep falling again and again, she got back up because she knew God will never give up on her, and neither should she.
I miss that 23-year-old, who found out that in order for her to grow, stepping out of the comfort-zone is inevitable... Being let go into the real world alone without her usual family and friends only mean that she has to learn to find God in other people, other situations, other circumstances, other perspectives... And as hard as it was, she tried, because she knew that nothing could go wrong coz she is spoken for...
I'm going to be 26 this year, and had not felt the presence of God in my life for a very long time... I've spoken about the absence of God many times in this blog, and how agonizing it is to wait for that renewal moment, coz it always felt so long. But this time, it's been really, really long.
By absence it doesn't necessarily mean that i stopped praying, or that God stopped answering.. I pray like I always did, and He answered like He always did. But I can't feel a thing. I'm numb. Going to church every Sunday and trying to participate in any church activities in between were just, that and nothing else. And that sucks. Coz I feel like a zombie; walking around healthily but have no soul... To me, that's death.
I've always been the kind of person who emphasized on soul-searching and self-discovery... And the only way I always do that is through spirituality... That is why when everything feels wrong when everything is in the right place (or so it seems), I know exactly which part of my life is wrong, which effects everything else...
And that's the thing, I KNOW, but I don't know what to do anymore... And every time I blog something about this, I would usually find optimism at the end of every piece... But this time, I'm just, numb... =( So help me God...
Monday, December 13, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Exhausted
I've been exhausted.. Physically and emotionally.. I feel like every single ounce of energy in my body had drained out.. I feel like shutting down for a while..
Saturday, October 16, 2010
A LOL-Worthy Part of My Life
It's another public holiday today (TYT's birthday) and here I am in the office, apparently 'looking' for news. Actually, it's more of waiting for news, as in waiting for something newsworthy to happen.
My son Micah is with his dad. What I want more is to go home and just be lazy in front of the TV. But what is more likely to happen if I am to go home is, me screaming bloody murder every 10 minutes or so, freezing at the end of my nerve-system from fear of Micah swallowing dirt/cologne/whatever he's picked up off the floor. Or, me running around the house trying to stop Micah before he lands his foot on the slippery surface of the toilet, or trying to prevent him from jumping off beds or sofas or tables or... anything else hazardous. And the best part is, me trying to enjoy the spot or seat I just took and having have to get up every 3 minutes over and over again, never actually being able to cherish the comfort I managed to steal in the split second Micah decided to sit still. Yup... The joys of being a mother...
It's Saturday and I want so bad to rest. I could use a break. But Saturday or not, public holiday or not, I'll never be able to rest ever again. Thanks to being a journalist and a mother, both of which are full time jobs. Ha ha.
Like my wise Aunt Maria said, "You made the choice now live with it!" which she ended with a "LOL".
I guess it is more torturing than it is funny. Why put a "LOL" to it? I guess it is a lil funny. Funny in a sense that it is sometimes unbelievable how people make the choices they do and then later complaint and whine about their lives, not realizing how they ARE the sum of their choices. The funniest part is, they blame fate or God - whichever applies according to their respective beliefs - for it.
Am I complaining? I hate to admit it, but I guess, this is sort of complaining. I am complaining of having have to work on holidays when I know from the beginning that this is part and parcel of journalism profession, but I agreed to become one anyway and even claimed (in an excited and passionate tone, if I'm recalling it right) that, "I love this job!" Ha ha. And, i am complaining about being tired from motherhood when I know from the very beginning that sex means producing babies and that babies are known to be... occupying. Ha ha.
*smirks*
We are the sum of of our choices. And when I say that, it doesn't necessarily sound bitter or negative.. I AM proud of what I've become. Which doesn't necessarily mean that I AM proud of all the choices I made. There are certain choices that I wished I had chosen the other path. But deciding to be a journalist and a mother, are ones that I know I wouldn't have had any other way. No matter how occupying these roles are. LOL.
My son Micah is with his dad. What I want more is to go home and just be lazy in front of the TV. But what is more likely to happen if I am to go home is, me screaming bloody murder every 10 minutes or so, freezing at the end of my nerve-system from fear of Micah swallowing dirt/cologne/whatever he's picked up off the floor. Or, me running around the house trying to stop Micah before he lands his foot on the slippery surface of the toilet, or trying to prevent him from jumping off beds or sofas or tables or... anything else hazardous. And the best part is, me trying to enjoy the spot or seat I just took and having have to get up every 3 minutes over and over again, never actually being able to cherish the comfort I managed to steal in the split second Micah decided to sit still. Yup... The joys of being a mother...
It's Saturday and I want so bad to rest. I could use a break. But Saturday or not, public holiday or not, I'll never be able to rest ever again. Thanks to being a journalist and a mother, both of which are full time jobs. Ha ha.
Like my wise Aunt Maria said, "You made the choice now live with it!" which she ended with a "LOL".
I guess it is more torturing than it is funny. Why put a "LOL" to it? I guess it is a lil funny. Funny in a sense that it is sometimes unbelievable how people make the choices they do and then later complaint and whine about their lives, not realizing how they ARE the sum of their choices. The funniest part is, they blame fate or God - whichever applies according to their respective beliefs - for it.
Am I complaining? I hate to admit it, but I guess, this is sort of complaining. I am complaining of having have to work on holidays when I know from the beginning that this is part and parcel of journalism profession, but I agreed to become one anyway and even claimed (in an excited and passionate tone, if I'm recalling it right) that, "I love this job!" Ha ha. And, i am complaining about being tired from motherhood when I know from the very beginning that sex means producing babies and that babies are known to be... occupying. Ha ha.
*smirks*
We are the sum of of our choices. And when I say that, it doesn't necessarily sound bitter or negative.. I AM proud of what I've become. Which doesn't necessarily mean that I AM proud of all the choices I made. There are certain choices that I wished I had chosen the other path. But deciding to be a journalist and a mother, are ones that I know I wouldn't have had any other way. No matter how occupying these roles are. LOL.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Malaysia Day? Why Not?
For the past couple of years or so, I've read more about ethnic & religious harmony, and national unity in newspapers and seen or heard it on broadcast, than I ever did in my last 25 years of living as a Malaysian. I don't really know how I feel about it. How do you feel about it?
In a way, it's a good thing; every minister in the cabinet came out saying, "Malaysians are lucky to be able to live in a multiracial yet harmonious country..." or "Our achievements today would not have been possible without the unity and stability that we've kept all these years..." or "The government safeguards the needs of all races and religions in ensuring everyone's development..." And then our beloved and respected Prime Minister Dato' Seri Najib Tun Razak would every now and then appear on TV to spread the 1Malaysia ideology... Romantic, isn't it?
Okay, sarcasm aside, I do honestly sometimes think that it's a great thing. But what pisses me off is the fact that, before this whole 1Malaysia thing started, before all the ministers and the Prime Minister himself emphasized and kept mentioning about national unity and ethnic harmony these days, we never admitted that we were a racist country for a very long time.
To prove that, we are still so used to classifying ourselves by race and religion, or which state we come from. I can safely say that I'm one of the most non-racist or non-religion-classification-judgmental person (if you have a better noun or adjective for that, please correct me) I know. But to this very day, even after all the studies and experiences that I went through to become the non-racist person that I am today, I'm still tempted to answer, "Sino-Kadazan," or "Sabahan" or "Catholic" when being asked of my race or religion. That is not the worst part. The worst part is, there is a little sense of pride when I say that. Like a chauvinistic somehow... And that's sad...
Whether we like or not, or more importantly, whether we admit it or not, we are proud to be the race that we are, more than we are about our nationality. In a way, that's great. But in a larger perspective, that's not a really nice picture. At least I think so. That is because we are not proud as Malaysians. Even more sadly, I don't think we even identify ourselves as Malaysians, but as our respective races, state of origin, and religions instead.. Prove? Quick test; Try to answer "Malaysian," whenever anyone asks you what race you are. It's not that easy (I've tried). You would find yourself pausing before you could answer "Malaysian." And even when you managed to, I bet that the person at the other end would say something like, "Ya lah, I know. But what race?" Get it?
It's not your fault or mine. I think a huge contributing factor to our mindset today, is the fact that we were subconsciously trained to (I can go into details about this years of 'subconscious training', but that would definitely defeat the purpose of this post). It got so bad that I was ever even asked, "Sudah brapa lama di Malaysia?" by someone from the Peninsular, upon learning that my friends and I are from Sabah & Sarawak. This is an experience that I believe so many others share.
But sadness, anger, and disappointment aside, regardless of how long it took the government to declare September 16th as a MALAYSIA DAY, regardless of how many requests and arguments presented and brought forward to the government to finally acknowledge the day Sabah & Sarawak joined Malaya to FORM MALAYSIA, I think we should just all rejoice that well, Sept 16th is NOW Malaysia Day.
And despite the fact that the 1Malaysia concept came about a little too late I would say (although I think Dato' Seri Najib should have came up with the idea before the March 2008 general election to make it look more real and believable), maybe we should just all put our doubts, differences, disagreements (and sarcasms) aside, and give it a shot. 1Malaysia, People First, Performance Now? Why not. *wink wink*
Happy Malaysia Day everyone.
Cheers!
In a way, it's a good thing; every minister in the cabinet came out saying, "Malaysians are lucky to be able to live in a multiracial yet harmonious country..." or "Our achievements today would not have been possible without the unity and stability that we've kept all these years..." or "The government safeguards the needs of all races and religions in ensuring everyone's development..." And then our beloved and respected Prime Minister Dato' Seri Najib Tun Razak would every now and then appear on TV to spread the 1Malaysia ideology... Romantic, isn't it?
Okay, sarcasm aside, I do honestly sometimes think that it's a great thing. But what pisses me off is the fact that, before this whole 1Malaysia thing started, before all the ministers and the Prime Minister himself emphasized and kept mentioning about national unity and ethnic harmony these days, we never admitted that we were a racist country for a very long time.
To prove that, we are still so used to classifying ourselves by race and religion, or which state we come from. I can safely say that I'm one of the most non-racist or non-religion-classification-judgmental person (if you have a better noun or adjective for that, please correct me) I know. But to this very day, even after all the studies and experiences that I went through to become the non-racist person that I am today, I'm still tempted to answer, "Sino-Kadazan," or "Sabahan" or "Catholic" when being asked of my race or religion. That is not the worst part. The worst part is, there is a little sense of pride when I say that. Like a chauvinistic somehow... And that's sad...
Whether we like or not, or more importantly, whether we admit it or not, we are proud to be the race that we are, more than we are about our nationality. In a way, that's great. But in a larger perspective, that's not a really nice picture. At least I think so. That is because we are not proud as Malaysians. Even more sadly, I don't think we even identify ourselves as Malaysians, but as our respective races, state of origin, and religions instead.. Prove? Quick test; Try to answer "Malaysian," whenever anyone asks you what race you are. It's not that easy (I've tried). You would find yourself pausing before you could answer "Malaysian." And even when you managed to, I bet that the person at the other end would say something like, "Ya lah, I know. But what race?" Get it?
It's not your fault or mine. I think a huge contributing factor to our mindset today, is the fact that we were subconsciously trained to (I can go into details about this years of 'subconscious training', but that would definitely defeat the purpose of this post). It got so bad that I was ever even asked, "Sudah brapa lama di Malaysia?" by someone from the Peninsular, upon learning that my friends and I are from Sabah & Sarawak. This is an experience that I believe so many others share.
But sadness, anger, and disappointment aside, regardless of how long it took the government to declare September 16th as a MALAYSIA DAY, regardless of how many requests and arguments presented and brought forward to the government to finally acknowledge the day Sabah & Sarawak joined Malaya to FORM MALAYSIA, I think we should just all rejoice that well, Sept 16th is NOW Malaysia Day.
And despite the fact that the 1Malaysia concept came about a little too late I would say (although I think Dato' Seri Najib should have came up with the idea before the March 2008 general election to make it look more real and believable), maybe we should just all put our doubts, differences, disagreements (and sarcasms) aside, and give it a shot. 1Malaysia, People First, Performance Now? Why not. *wink wink*
Happy Malaysia Day everyone.
Cheers!
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Amy & Her Life - As of August 2010
I've promised myself over and over again that I would update my blog OFTEN, say maybe at least WEEKLY. Over and over again, I failed, hence, the repetition of promises. I'm a good writer, and part of that is because I used to write out my feelings and updates DAILY, on my blogs. Where did that part of you go, Amy? =(
Anyway, since I'm here now, I might as well post updates of my life and me =)
Cheers..
Anyway, since I'm here now, I might as well post updates of my life and me =)
- As a person, I'm mostly miserable these days due to the fact that I hadn't seen my son for two months now. Everybody thought I wanted to send him to KK to live with my mom because I want to have fun and party with my husband. Even my dad thinks that. But the truth this, my mom wanted to spend more time with her grandson for a little more than just a week. Because since Micah and I moved to Bintulu, we go back once every 3 months and stay for a week. My mom did ask to let him stay behind when we went back for my SPA test in March, but I couldn't at that time. So the next visit last June, I finally gained the guts to let him stay. How did life without Micah around go?
- Since I don't have to feed, bathe, entertain a baby, I have all the time in the world for myself, work, husband, ad house-chores. Even getting ready was made simple, and I actually have time for make-up and hair-do! I even have the time to think and decide on what to wear instead of just grabbing what's lying on the bed. I have time for workout even! And at the end of the day, I get to watch any movie I want, while lying on the bed waiting to doze off. And I doze off in MY OWN sweet time...
- BUT, and it's a BIG BUT... I think of Micah every moment of the day. As much as I try to avoid it, and brush away thoughts of him so that I can do my work properly, he's always on my mind. And every time I think of him, my heart skips a beat, I sigh, and there's this kind of headache caused by a weird feeling, like... a heartache.. And every now and then, I cry myself to sleep, or when I'm driving and i remembered of how he's sit next to me in the car... Worse, I sometimes let it out on my husband and my work..
- Having went through that, I know that I want nothing but to be tired and exhausted due juggling between work, personal, and motherhood again. I want to be stressed out due to not being able to stop Micah from crying again. I want to have limited time to dress up because I have to prepare Micah. I do not want extra time for make-up or hair-do. I don't want to have time for movie or putting lotion on my body before bedtime, because i wanna use that time to cuddle and play with Micah until he's tired and sleepy. I just want to have my son back... I want to be Micah's mom again, instead of just the journalist and wife of Joshua Chua..
- Josh and I are flying back to KK this Thursday and back to Bintulu on Sunday, WITH Micah. =)
- Sarawak Tribune hired me in May. And despite fearing how I would do in the job after leaving the field for so long, and despite starting off without much guidance, I must say I'm proud of myself thus far. My editor told me upfront that I'm productive for a newbie. And barely two months into the job, I've earned bylines and front-page headlines. Covering ministers and issues are not so scary afterall. I never got that chance back in Borneo Post even after nine months working with them. So, thank you Sarawak Tribune.
- It turns out, I'm not only good in writing (hence the job as a journalist). Last month, our company collaborated with Parkcity Everly Hotel to organize the Model Search 2010. Despite being new at that time, they, the organizing chairmen, assigned me to become a committee member and an emcee. That one went so well that people from all over started asking me to emcee and sing for their events. =) So I've landed myself a part-time job now.
- Due to the success of that event, which my chief editor flew all the way from Kuching for, I managed to build a reputation as a multitask journalist and mother. And to that, I got a first-hand compliment from my boss when he said, "I hired you to become my journalist and you gave me two in return. Well done." =)
- I know, I sound vain here, but I rarely do that and when I do, I'm saying that I'm proud of myself, and I should never look down on myself. *pats on own shoulder*
- I go to church every Sunday and bring my husband with me. But I know that it's not enough. So I went and approach a lady who is supposed in charge of the ministries at the Catholic church in Bintulu, and told her I want to serve. I can sing or commentate, or read, etc. She welcomed the idea, but as I was talking to her, she was downright judgmental about everything. I can't remember all of it but one of it was her tone about why I chose to marry a non-Catholic. I was immediately discouraged and thought twice about serving them.
- But I know very well that it's never about her or the people in that church anyway. It's all about Jesus... And if I decide I want to serve, it's serving Him and not the people...
- Recently, I just found out about something and Josh and I are in for a very tough time. We're still at that stage. But amazingly, when I found out about it, I didn't get angry or pissed off. I didn't question God like I always did whenever something bad happens to me. But instead, I thanked Him for it. Because one week into discovering it, I started seeing changes, good changes in my husband and myself... And I thanked God for it because I know now more than ever, that challenges were put in our lives not to limit us but to strengthen us and make us better people... And I pray that I'll be ever grateful and that we'll look at this problem not as a problem, but as a turning point of our lives to be better... =)
Cheers..
Thursday, June 10, 2010
What A Day
By the time my other half came home this morning, I was already asleep. So going to bed angry was already contributing to waking up on the wrong side of the bed today.
My mother in-law asked me to help her with her specialist appointment at the Bintulu Hospital, which required me to go all the way (it's in a terrible distance) to the hospital, just to change the appointment date. I was fine with it until they made me wait for exactly ONE HOUR and FIFTEEN MINUTES, just to find out that they gave me the wrong instruction. By the time I got superpissed for waiting, they courteously asked me to make my way to the specialist's room to change the appointment date, which took me not more than FIVE bloody MINUTES.
So after doing that, off I go and went back home just to find Joshua still sleeping, which means I have to take the time to do the laundry.
After doing that, off I go to the gym, and upon completing my daily workout, I happily went to the locker to get all freshened up for work, just to find my locker got stuck and won't open and I had to wait for another THIRTY MINUTES for the maintenance guy to break open the bloody locker.
What a day!
My mother in-law asked me to help her with her specialist appointment at the Bintulu Hospital, which required me to go all the way (it's in a terrible distance) to the hospital, just to change the appointment date. I was fine with it until they made me wait for exactly ONE HOUR and FIFTEEN MINUTES, just to find out that they gave me the wrong instruction. By the time I got superpissed for waiting, they courteously asked me to make my way to the specialist's room to change the appointment date, which took me not more than FIVE bloody MINUTES.
So after doing that, off I go and went back home just to find Joshua still sleeping, which means I have to take the time to do the laundry.
After doing that, off I go to the gym, and upon completing my daily workout, I happily went to the locker to get all freshened up for work, just to find my locker got stuck and won't open and I had to wait for another THIRTY MINUTES for the maintenance guy to break open the bloody locker.
What a day!
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
I Love Food. Period.
I Love Food. Period. There's no other way I can put it because that is what it is. I love food (except for veggies). I've always been the kind who eats anything and anytime. I've never been concerned of what I eat or drink, because I was never concerned of my weight or health. I'm not proud of it... but I love food!
They say it derives from your upbringing. I thought that was true. But when I look at my parents especially my mom, she's a very, very healthy person and she does watch what she eats. So where do I get this eating habit of mine? (Err... TV commercials?)
I was telling my husband, we need to start practicing a healthy diet, because I really want Micah my son to grow up healthy and have proper diet. Of course he can have peanut butter straight out from the jar every now and then. But generally, I want him to have a balanced diet of protein, calcium, iron, and whatever else listed in the healthy food pyramid. But that must be impossible if I can't control what I eat, right? I'm already feeding him KFC's mashed potatoes. (YUMMY... NO, AMY. Bad, bad mother).
I've never give two pots about my body, even when I was pregnant because I've always loved it the way it is... until recently, when I noticed that people, strangers even, look at my abdomen area the second after they look at my face. It's like, "She looks too young/too cool/too pretty (HAHA) to have that baby bump... Is she 3-months pregnant? No... She can't be wearing jeans if she is... Maybe she's had a baby. Or maybe, she drinks too much beer..." ARGH!!!
My husband, colleagues and I are going on a workout spree starting today. So my husband and I vowed to have breakfast like a King, skip lunch, and skip dinner... Three weeks and many broken vows later, we were having dinner last night saying, "Okay, this is our last dinner," for the umpteenth time. And we keep 'modifying' that diet vow everytime we dine; "Okay, maybe we can have dinner, but with no rice." 5 minutes later, "We can have rice, but only a quarter of what we used to have."
The thing is, I love food so much that I can't think of skipping any or cutting down on any. I can workout like mad but never skip food.
So, whatever works for me, I just hope I'll return to this post with a much brighter future. Translation; healthy diet, hence healthy being and hotter bods!
In the meantime, CHeeRs everyone!
They say it derives from your upbringing. I thought that was true. But when I look at my parents especially my mom, she's a very, very healthy person and she does watch what she eats. So where do I get this eating habit of mine? (Err... TV commercials?)
I was telling my husband, we need to start practicing a healthy diet, because I really want Micah my son to grow up healthy and have proper diet. Of course he can have peanut butter straight out from the jar every now and then. But generally, I want him to have a balanced diet of protein, calcium, iron, and whatever else listed in the healthy food pyramid. But that must be impossible if I can't control what I eat, right? I'm already feeding him KFC's mashed potatoes. (YUMMY... NO, AMY. Bad, bad mother).
I've never give two pots about my body, even when I was pregnant because I've always loved it the way it is... until recently, when I noticed that people, strangers even, look at my abdomen area the second after they look at my face. It's like, "She looks too young/too cool/too pretty (HAHA) to have that baby bump... Is she 3-months pregnant? No... She can't be wearing jeans if she is... Maybe she's had a baby. Or maybe, she drinks too much beer..." ARGH!!!
My husband, colleagues and I are going on a workout spree starting today. So my husband and I vowed to have breakfast like a King, skip lunch, and skip dinner... Three weeks and many broken vows later, we were having dinner last night saying, "Okay, this is our last dinner," for the umpteenth time. And we keep 'modifying' that diet vow everytime we dine; "Okay, maybe we can have dinner, but with no rice." 5 minutes later, "We can have rice, but only a quarter of what we used to have."
The thing is, I love food so much that I can't think of skipping any or cutting down on any. I can workout like mad but never skip food.
So, whatever works for me, I just hope I'll return to this post with a much brighter future. Translation; healthy diet, hence healthy being and hotter bods!
In the meantime, CHeeRs everyone!
Thursday, June 3, 2010
I'd Lost It?
People who know me would know that I'm a pretty fun kind of person. At leas I WAS.. But there I was sitting at Star, and thinking, "When can we leave?" There's booze, fags and not-so-bad companions, the kind of stuff that usually got me going. But not this time, and the many previous times I could remember sitting in a club or bar post-baby.. Have I lost it?
I no longer find pleasure or fun in hanging out drinking or clubbing. As much as I hate to admit it, it's no longer my cup of tea. What?? Did I just say that out loud??
At the first few times this boredom striked, I honestly thought, "It must be the crowd/drinks/mood/timing." But i'm starting to see that that theory is completely inapplicable by the 10th time I sat in a loud-music environment and stared into space feeling B.O.R.E.D.
It's probably because i'm starting to be too old for this kind of stuff. Or maybe I don't feel comfortable leaving Micah at home while I go out and TRY to have fun. Or maybe I just miss hanging out with my homeboys and homegirls.
Or maybe, I lost it. Pffft. :-S
I no longer find pleasure or fun in hanging out drinking or clubbing. As much as I hate to admit it, it's no longer my cup of tea. What?? Did I just say that out loud??
At the first few times this boredom striked, I honestly thought, "It must be the crowd/drinks/mood/timing." But i'm starting to see that that theory is completely inapplicable by the 10th time I sat in a loud-music environment and stared into space feeling B.O.R.E.D.
It's probably because i'm starting to be too old for this kind of stuff. Or maybe I don't feel comfortable leaving Micah at home while I go out and TRY to have fun. Or maybe I just miss hanging out with my homeboys and homegirls.
Or maybe, I lost it. Pffft. :-S
My First Pay
I got my first pay two days ago (Yeay!) and by now it's more than half gone (Sigh...). Naturally, I ought to feel sad by that. But what makes me feel otherwise is the fact that I did more than just spend it on myself this time (yeay!).
So I guess, becoming a mother really does change the way you to see things, the way you prioritize things. I guess I started to realize that I have a person to look after now, not just myself. And indeed, giving makes you feel much, much better than receiving. =D
Cheers everyone!
So I guess, becoming a mother really does change the way you to see things, the way you prioritize things. I guess I started to realize that I have a person to look after now, not just myself. And indeed, giving makes you feel much, much better than receiving. =D
Cheers everyone!
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Yours Truly Updated
This blog ought to be kept alive. And what better way to do that than update my readers of what I've been up to. =)
Amy Thong @ Faustina Dangin a.k.a. Amy Dangin
- As a mother, it's only natural that I would want to update people on my son. Ha ha. He's 8 months and 2 weeks old now. He's losing weight tho, probably due to the many, many moveme
nts and actions he's been up to; crawling, struggling to stand up with the aid of furniture and any nearby, reachable legs (of people), pushing himself up and down with support (and trying to, without support which of course results in hurting himself), and loads more. He's grown 6 teeth now and more are coming out, which explains all the biting around. He's very, very vocal in expressing his emotions (a.k.a C.R.Y.I.N.G. OUT LOUD). And I'm not sure about his vocabularies but I think he knows what "mama" and "mamam" mean. He is also starting to understand instructions! Well actually only ONE instruction which is to clap his hands. Although not perfectly so just yet, but at least he knows it involves both hands being banged against each other. Ha ha. So adorable! 
And as for me, well, I'm officially employed now, by Tribune Press Sdn Bhd. Thank you Mr William Chan for considering me and believing that I am the kind of journalist/reporter that I know I can be. I have actually lost confidence in my ability to write but I told myself, "Just give it a shot" and here I am exactly a month later, doing what I would consider to be well (I've got bylines, front page news, a full-page color feature, and unedited stories published - yes, I am bowing my own trumpet but heck, when and where else do I get the chance to do that =p). I want to become better, and someday make a change via my writing. And I know I will.- My husband and I, we're doing like any other normal couples are. By normal I mean it's a roller-coaster ride; we fight (a lot which probably due to my impatience a
nd intolerance, but also because I think he has a lot more learn). Truth is, we both have a lot to learn. It's been a year and the marriage is still at an infancy stage. But everyone who knows me would know that i give on people and relationships long before I even know it COULD WORK, many a time, and THAT is definitely something I am learning to change. It's hard but I am working on it. WE are working on it. He's a great guy and I KNOW he CAN be better. I believe that. I just need to give him and myself time, and faith, that we can make this work. And instead of trying to push him away, I must learn how to build him up, and in the process, strengthen my own self as a person. =) - As fro my faith and spirituality, I am sad and disappointed at myself for having so many excuses not to put efforts in working on my relationship with God. I think I take HIM for granted, thinking that HE is THE GOD, the bigger and stronger person, so HE should work on it and I shouldn't. Selfish. I've been 'here' before but I still don't really remember how to fix this, and even if so, I don't know where to start. And having said that, I don't really know how to conclude this part of my update. =(
- I miss my family back in KK (I was going to use the word 'home', but Bintulu is now my h
ome too). My brother Valentine and I text each other once in a while. Mom and I call each other every now and then, and everytime, she tells me she misses Micah so much that it breaks her heart every night and day thinking about him. Everytime too, she tells me how much Sam misses and needs me. Everytime too, she brings up the topic about (me) moving back in KK. I can only promise her that we will eventually settle down in KK, it's just that I can't promise when. My in-laws are incredibly great folks and I have no problem being here in Bintulu. They make it so easy for me to feel that I belong here, and I honestly do feel like I've been a part of the Chua family for a very long time, eventhough it's only been a year. But KK will always be where my heart is. - Having said that, I miss my siblings terribly... More specifically, I miss hanging out with my brother Valentine and sister Iris, just having drinks, chatting sweet nothings, heart-to-heart sharing... We haven't been able to do that in a very, very long time, and I long for that... Yes, of course I miss Sam... She's growing up so fast and I know I'm missing out on a lot... =(
- When it comes to friends, tonnes have changed since I got married
and had a baby. I miss my sisters of THE SISTERHOOD and all the things that we used to share, which is practically everything... But as one of them said, "We grow up," and I've learned to accept that as we grow, so do our relationship with each other. But through all of that, I can only be grateful that one person stays the same and maintained that bond regardless of situations; Betsy. =) She tries hard to keep the circle alive, and I only better that I should put more effort like she does. And I'll try. For whatever is left of that circle, I'll make it work. - Last but never the least, I make it a point to update this blog everyday. No matter how crappy the post is, update it daily shall it be.
Amy Thong @ Faustina Dangin a.k.a. Amy Dangin
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Cool to be Holy
Cool: Socially adept; great; fine; excellent.
Holy: Dedicated & devoted to the service of God, the church, or religion.
Can anyone tell me if these two words are antonyms? Can't a person be both or one has to be only one of these, in so saying, does it mean that these two are two opposite extremes?
I was having a conversation with friends the other day. At one point, we were talking about the Tsunami and other natural disasters. At the end of that topic, a friend said, "Life is so short." In a way, she's saying, "We'll never know what might happen to us tomorrow," to which she replied, "That's why we must enjoy life." I, of course being the smart-ass, said in return, "NOOO... That's why we must go to church..."
Now, imagine you were there with us. How would you react to that? Or, what would you think of me?
Coz the friends that were there all stopped what they doing and looked at me. No, STARED at me. And when they finally said something, it was, "Why'd you have to cut off the steam?" and "YOu sound like my mother." Ha ha.
I wouldn't classify myself as being holy. By 'holy' I mean, according society's definition of holy, or pious. I am a Christian. I try to practice my belief the best way I know how. And although I fail it most of the time, it doesn't make me quit trying to be a good Christian. But the world we live in makes it harder and harder to even belief in God, what more to say, to practice that belief. People wants to be seen as COOL. And it's not COOL to be religious, or to even bring it up in conversations. It's not cool to go to church. It's not cool to pray. It's not cool to be holy.
Sometimes, it (talking about religion or God) even feels like a taboo. It almost feels like you have to think twice before bringing it up in conversations, like you have to watch it if you're going to say anything God-related. Yes, we have different beliefs. But it doesn't mean that you stop talking about it altogether. Why can't we just talk about God like we talk about other people. How come it's easier for us to talk about other people's flaws (mengumpat lah bah) than to talk about God, when God is supposed to be the center of our lives? Our very being exist because of Him... Why is it a shameful thing to be talking about Him?
Religion being a sensitive issue is one thing. But amongst Christian friends, why does it have to be? From my observation, these friends are usually people who hadn't been to church for a very long time. For them, religion and God had been like a long-forgotten subject they refused to ever talk about again. Why? My guess is, GUILT. There's that huge void filled by guilt, building a wall in between them and their faith.
Well friends, newsflash: everybody has guilts. I have guilt. I feel guilty all the time. But it doesn't mean that I make it worse by shutting God out completely. When I talk about God or my belief, it doesn't mean that I'm pious. I hope to be, but truth is, none of us will be pure enough, at least not in this world. I like to think that there will always be hope for me, for all of us, no matter how guilty...
I love Jesus. Jesus is my best friend, my backbone, my foundation, my ears, my shoulders... There I said it. It's so cool to be Holy!
Here's something from poet Carol S. Wimmer, something I find solace in =)
When I say..."I am a Christian"
I'm not claiming to be perfect,
My flaws are all too visible,
But God believes I'm worth it.
When I say..."I am a Christian"
I still feel the sting of pain
I have my share of heartaches
Which is why I speak His name.
When I say..."I am a Christian"
I do not wish to judge.
I have no authority.
I only know I'm loved.
Holy: Dedicated & devoted to the service of God, the church, or religion.
Can anyone tell me if these two words are antonyms? Can't a person be both or one has to be only one of these, in so saying, does it mean that these two are two opposite extremes?
I was having a conversation with friends the other day. At one point, we were talking about the Tsunami and other natural disasters. At the end of that topic, a friend said, "Life is so short." In a way, she's saying, "We'll never know what might happen to us tomorrow," to which she replied, "That's why we must enjoy life." I, of course being the smart-ass, said in return, "NOOO... That's why we must go to church..."
Now, imagine you were there with us. How would you react to that? Or, what would you think of me?
Coz the friends that were there all stopped what they doing and looked at me. No, STARED at me. And when they finally said something, it was, "Why'd you have to cut off the steam?" and "YOu sound like my mother." Ha ha.
I wouldn't classify myself as being holy. By 'holy' I mean, according society's definition of holy, or pious. I am a Christian. I try to practice my belief the best way I know how. And although I fail it most of the time, it doesn't make me quit trying to be a good Christian. But the world we live in makes it harder and harder to even belief in God, what more to say, to practice that belief. People wants to be seen as COOL. And it's not COOL to be religious, or to even bring it up in conversations. It's not cool to go to church. It's not cool to pray. It's not cool to be holy.
Sometimes, it (talking about religion or God) even feels like a taboo. It almost feels like you have to think twice before bringing it up in conversations, like you have to watch it if you're going to say anything God-related. Yes, we have different beliefs. But it doesn't mean that you stop talking about it altogether. Why can't we just talk about God like we talk about other people. How come it's easier for us to talk about other people's flaws (mengumpat lah bah) than to talk about God, when God is supposed to be the center of our lives? Our very being exist because of Him... Why is it a shameful thing to be talking about Him?
Religion being a sensitive issue is one thing. But amongst Christian friends, why does it have to be? From my observation, these friends are usually people who hadn't been to church for a very long time. For them, religion and God had been like a long-forgotten subject they refused to ever talk about again. Why? My guess is, GUILT. There's that huge void filled by guilt, building a wall in between them and their faith.
Well friends, newsflash: everybody has guilts. I have guilt. I feel guilty all the time. But it doesn't mean that I make it worse by shutting God out completely. When I talk about God or my belief, it doesn't mean that I'm pious. I hope to be, but truth is, none of us will be pure enough, at least not in this world. I like to think that there will always be hope for me, for all of us, no matter how guilty...
I love Jesus. Jesus is my best friend, my backbone, my foundation, my ears, my shoulders... There I said it. It's so cool to be Holy!
Here's something from poet Carol S. Wimmer, something I find solace in =)
When I say..."I am a Christian"
I'm not claiming to be perfect,
My flaws are all too visible,
But God believes I'm worth it.
When I say..."I am a Christian"
I still feel the sting of pain
I have my share of heartaches
Which is why I speak His name.
When I say..."I am a Christian"
I do not wish to judge.
I have no authority.
I only know I'm loved.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
The Good Mother
We all want to be good at something. It makes our life worth living. It gives us a sense of purpose, a sense of meaning...
I've always known what I want to be good at. I've always wanted to be a good friend, so I try to be there for my friends often, I try to be fun, I try to be cool. I've always wanted to be a good student (well, at least in the first few years of Primary education), so I try to score, I try to respond to my teachers the way smart students do, I try to be obedient. I've always wanted to be a good singer too. So I try to, well, sing well. I've always wanted to be a good writer. So I try to figure out what matters most in my writing, and the answer turned out to be honesty.
Not that I planned ahead on becoming a mother, but I've always known that I would someday, someday, would love to have children, and I knew even back then, that I want to make a good mother, when I finally become one... And now I am a mother. It's only been 7 months since I became one, and already I feel so inadequate. My son, Micah, had fallen sick more than twice now. He is constantly bloated. He fell off the bed and chair numerous times and there was one time the fall was so had his lip bled. I still can't get anything ready on time, like his baths, his diaper changes. My temper has never been shorter. My desire to smoke is just constantly tagging. My self-centredness of wanting to let go and relax or party sometimes, exists. I just feel so unworthy of this... Like I'm not cut-out for motherhood, for Micah... Does that make me a bad mother?
What does 'a GOOD mother' even mean? More importantly, does it even exist? Who first coined the word 'good' or 'bad' to the title 'mother'? Who or what initially put such a definitive meaning to something so subjective? What does one mean when he or she says, "She's a bad/good mother,"?
Honestly, it worries me what others think about my mothering skills, especially other fellow mothers. Everytime I'm out there with my baby, I feel so judged, hence the constant self-judgment habit; does my baby look fine? Is he neat enough? Are there traces of bread crumbs on his face that I forgot to wipe out? Does his shirt match his pants? Is he behaving like a good kid (owh, whatever THAT means. Good kid is an oxymoron)? Oh no, he's crying too loud! They must think I'm a bad mother!
But above all that assumed criticism, I want to be a god mother because of my son... I want to be a good mother because I want him to be safe all the time from all harm, seen and unseen... I want to be a good mother because I want him to grow up in the right and fun environment... I want to be a good mother because he seems like a great kid (although he's still a 7-moth-old infant) and I want him to have that greatness in every aspect because he deserves it... I want to be a good mother because I want him to be alive, not only physically but also spiritually, emotionally... I want to be a good mother because, I LOVE HIM...
But like the other things that I want to be good at, I can only try... I am but human... I make mistakes, I fail, but I can also succeed... And for that, I try to be the good mother I've always wanted to be...
I've always known what I want to be good at. I've always wanted to be a good friend, so I try to be there for my friends often, I try to be fun, I try to be cool. I've always wanted to be a good student (well, at least in the first few years of Primary education), so I try to score, I try to respond to my teachers the way smart students do, I try to be obedient. I've always wanted to be a good singer too. So I try to, well, sing well. I've always wanted to be a good writer. So I try to figure out what matters most in my writing, and the answer turned out to be honesty.
Not that I planned ahead on becoming a mother, but I've always known that I would someday, someday, would love to have children, and I knew even back then, that I want to make a good mother, when I finally become one... And now I am a mother. It's only been 7 months since I became one, and already I feel so inadequate. My son, Micah, had fallen sick more than twice now. He is constantly bloated. He fell off the bed and chair numerous times and there was one time the fall was so had his lip bled. I still can't get anything ready on time, like his baths, his diaper changes. My temper has never been shorter. My desire to smoke is just constantly tagging. My self-centredness of wanting to let go and relax or party sometimes, exists. I just feel so unworthy of this... Like I'm not cut-out for motherhood, for Micah... Does that make me a bad mother?
What does 'a GOOD mother' even mean? More importantly, does it even exist? Who first coined the word 'good' or 'bad' to the title 'mother'? Who or what initially put such a definitive meaning to something so subjective? What does one mean when he or she says, "She's a bad/good mother,"?
Honestly, it worries me what others think about my mothering skills, especially other fellow mothers. Everytime I'm out there with my baby, I feel so judged, hence the constant self-judgment habit; does my baby look fine? Is he neat enough? Are there traces of bread crumbs on his face that I forgot to wipe out? Does his shirt match his pants? Is he behaving like a good kid (owh, whatever THAT means. Good kid is an oxymoron)? Oh no, he's crying too loud! They must think I'm a bad mother!
But above all that assumed criticism, I want to be a god mother because of my son... I want to be a good mother because I want him to be safe all the time from all harm, seen and unseen... I want to be a good mother because I want him to grow up in the right and fun environment... I want to be a good mother because he seems like a great kid (although he's still a 7-moth-old infant) and I want him to have that greatness in every aspect because he deserves it... I want to be a good mother because I want him to be alive, not only physically but also spiritually, emotionally... I want to be a good mother because, I LOVE HIM...
But like the other things that I want to be good at, I can only try... I am but human... I make mistakes, I fail, but I can also succeed... And for that, I try to be the good mother I've always wanted to be...
Thursday, April 15, 2010
To Write Or Not To Write
The SPA exam last Saturday gave me something to blog about. Well, not really. This is just cause. Ha ha.
It was a 9am to 4.20pm exam, with a single one-hour break (1pm - 2pm), and for someone who last seated for a real exam was approximately 730 days ago (equivalent to 2 years. Using 'days' instead to describe it gives it more volume *grin*), that, is mind-blasting, in a not so good way. The one I anticipated for was the 2nd part, Mathematics. Not because I'm good in it, but because once that part is over, the rest of the ride would be 'kacang'. I ended up with 15 vacant multiple-choices rows on the answer sheet (which was later filled-in with the help of my intuition).
The main reason why I wanted to post this entry was because I'd really love to tell you guys about the details. But come to think of it, I'm not sure if we can do that, as the examiners took back all our question papers, which I assume is their way of hindering us from 'sharing' them with the rest of the world (or it could be that they're practicing environmentalism, recycling the papers and all). Ha.
Anyhow, roughly, the last part (before the self-assessment tests), was English Essay (the one before that was the Esei Bahasa Melayu, which I refuse to talk about because I laughed throughout the entire time I was penning down my BRILLIANT ideas), and there were 3 questions to choose one from. The first one was about social networking sites (go figure), while the 2nd one was about... Can't remember. Don't bother. Nothing interesting. And when I got to the 3rd one, I knew it was my niche (it was regarding UNITY). I was like, "Aha! This, I can talk a lot about!". But before I could even jot down my first word, I changed my mind so quickly, as this is an examination to join the government force, yet my thoughts and opinions don't really go in the same direction. So, there goes nothing.
All in all, it was a pretty good experience. My parents are hoping so bad that I'd pass it and go through all the levels of interview, and be a government servant. I nod and smile everytime they say so, but really I was hoping for something else.
Oh well, let's just wait and see what the results would be.
Cheers!
It was a 9am to 4.20pm exam, with a single one-hour break (1pm - 2pm), and for someone who last seated for a real exam was approximately 730 days ago (equivalent to 2 years. Using 'days' instead to describe it gives it more volume *grin*), that, is mind-blasting, in a not so good way. The one I anticipated for was the 2nd part, Mathematics. Not because I'm good in it, but because once that part is over, the rest of the ride would be 'kacang'. I ended up with 15 vacant multiple-choices rows on the answer sheet (which was later filled-in with the help of my intuition).
The main reason why I wanted to post this entry was because I'd really love to tell you guys about the details. But come to think of it, I'm not sure if we can do that, as the examiners took back all our question papers, which I assume is their way of hindering us from 'sharing' them with the rest of the world (or it could be that they're practicing environmentalism, recycling the papers and all). Ha.
Anyhow, roughly, the last part (before the self-assessment tests), was English Essay (the one before that was the Esei Bahasa Melayu, which I refuse to talk about because I laughed throughout the entire time I was penning down my BRILLIANT ideas), and there were 3 questions to choose one from. The first one was about social networking sites (go figure), while the 2nd one was about... Can't remember. Don't bother. Nothing interesting. And when I got to the 3rd one, I knew it was my niche (it was regarding UNITY). I was like, "Aha! This, I can talk a lot about!". But before I could even jot down my first word, I changed my mind so quickly, as this is an examination to join the government force, yet my thoughts and opinions don't really go in the same direction. So, there goes nothing.
All in all, it was a pretty good experience. My parents are hoping so bad that I'd pass it and go through all the levels of interview, and be a government servant. I nod and smile everytime they say so, but really I was hoping for something else.
Oh well, let's just wait and see what the results would be.
Cheers!
Saturday, March 13, 2010
It's My Birthday... AGAIN
For someone who had always give two pots about having her birthday celebrated, waking up to it feeling no distinction from every other day wore me down.Yes, it did. I remember being a student in UiTM, a member of a society called Catholic Students (CSS), for 3 whole years, staying with a bunch of fellow Borneans; birthdays were always celebrated. When possible, they're celebrated in a big way. Otherwise, it's just really foul-smelling liquid (a mash-up of onions, rotten egg, belacan, unwashed soaked stockings, etc.) usually, at 12.00am on the dot. HA HA.
Whatever it is, it is celebrated. The person is celebrated. People around you take the effort to make you feel different in a good way on your birthday, be it in a big or small way, just so that day doesn't feel like 'any other day.' And I've never really appreciated that until now... Now that I don't have that crew of people to do that to me anymore.
Even before that stage of life, my family and friends back at home would always managed to get around to at least have meals together. Our usual for birthdays and celebrations would be the Yu Kee Bak Kut Teh in Gaya Street (THE BEST).
So, for me, birthdays are a big deal. I believe that no one should ever be too old to celebrate it. That was why when I went to bed two nights ago, a yearning set in. I just wanted so bad to celebrate it. Woke up the next day, the yearning is still there.
Instead of letting that feeling ate me up, I put on a bright attitude, played OMC's How Bizarre on loud speaker and started dancing to it. I felt good. I thought to myself, "It's not how it is celebrated. It is how YOU celebrate yourself." So my believe shifted; it really is about the kind of attitude you bring into the day.
My mother-in-law got me a lovely purple comforter as a gift. My mother reloaded phone credit. I got a note from my husband (which was special coz he never writes to me *smiles*), I received calls from my brother, sisters (Sam was just sobbing on the phone, sad that it's my birthday yet she can't celebrate it with me. Sigh...), mother, and from my best friends. And more virtual wishes via Facebook.
But the most memorable moment of my birthday this year, was when my father, practically 'estranged', sent me a text message, saying;
"Mommy told me that it's your BIRTHDAY TODAY. I'm sorry I never give you any present, but my love and prayer goes to you, dear daughter."
And I immediately teared up... I wasn't sure if it was the frustration for feeling frustrated with Micah prior to that SMS, or the fact that I was kind of down for not being 'celebrated'. But I just cried and cried for a while. That was really something. That was everything. My father, who never wished me anything despite already having 24 birthdays, remembered, and wished me... Priceless.
Knowing the person my father is, it must have taken him a lot of courage and ego pushed aside for him to even wish me. So to me, this one is more than anything I could ever wish for. Bless you, Pa. =)
All in all, it's a typical yet meaningful birthday. It was no hu-ha, but I appreciate it just the way it was. Although really foul-smelling liquid (a mash-up of onions, rotten egg, belacan, unwashed soaked stockings, etc.) usually, at 12.00am on the dot, would have been nice. Ha ha.
Cheers everyone.
Whatever it is, it is celebrated. The person is celebrated. People around you take the effort to make you feel different in a good way on your birthday, be it in a big or small way, just so that day doesn't feel like 'any other day.' And I've never really appreciated that until now... Now that I don't have that crew of people to do that to me anymore.
Even before that stage of life, my family and friends back at home would always managed to get around to at least have meals together. Our usual for birthdays and celebrations would be the Yu Kee Bak Kut Teh in Gaya Street (THE BEST).
So, for me, birthdays are a big deal. I believe that no one should ever be too old to celebrate it. That was why when I went to bed two nights ago, a yearning set in. I just wanted so bad to celebrate it. Woke up the next day, the yearning is still there.
Instead of letting that feeling ate me up, I put on a bright attitude, played OMC's How Bizarre on loud speaker and started dancing to it. I felt good. I thought to myself, "It's not how it is celebrated. It is how YOU celebrate yourself." So my believe shifted; it really is about the kind of attitude you bring into the day.
My mother-in-law got me a lovely purple comforter as a gift. My mother reloaded phone credit. I got a note from my husband (which was special coz he never writes to me *smiles*), I received calls from my brother, sisters (Sam was just sobbing on the phone, sad that it's my birthday yet she can't celebrate it with me. Sigh...), mother, and from my best friends. And more virtual wishes via Facebook.
But the most memorable moment of my birthday this year, was when my father, practically 'estranged', sent me a text message, saying;
"Mommy told me that it's your BIRTHDAY TODAY. I'm sorry I never give you any present, but my love and prayer goes to you, dear daughter."
And I immediately teared up... I wasn't sure if it was the frustration for feeling frustrated with Micah prior to that SMS, or the fact that I was kind of down for not being 'celebrated'. But I just cried and cried for a while. That was really something. That was everything. My father, who never wished me anything despite already having 24 birthdays, remembered, and wished me... Priceless.
Knowing the person my father is, it must have taken him a lot of courage and ego pushed aside for him to even wish me. So to me, this one is more than anything I could ever wish for. Bless you, Pa. =)
All in all, it's a typical yet meaningful birthday. It was no hu-ha, but I appreciate it just the way it was. Although really foul-smelling liquid (a mash-up of onions, rotten egg, belacan, unwashed soaked stockings, etc.) usually, at 12.00am on the dot, would have been nice. Ha ha.
Cheers everyone.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Being Mother Amy
"So how's life as a mom?" I get asked a lot. "Oh, it's wonderful, life-changing, beautiful.." comes my reply. But we've heard that part already, right? Now here's the real deal... WARNING: For those of you who aspire to become a mother, do not read on. It may crush your dreams. Ha ha.
It's time-consuming. My life revolves around my baby, Micah, literally. I can't bathe, eat, go online, sleep, or do anything for that matter, on my own accord. I had to follow Micah's time. He had to be fed first, he had to be bathed first, he had to doze off (with me help obviously) first. Thank God for my wonderful mom and dad in-law who would voluntarily look after him when I need to eat. They'd ask, "Sudah makan kah? Pigi makan dulu lah, mari saya jaga dia skejap." Hihi. Nice folks. Love them to bits.
Coming to five months old, his interest had expanded beyond his mom's breasts and arms, so he would deliberately extend his hands to touch stuffs, reach out to things, roll over, and when he can't, he would call out for assistance from anybody who can hear him. Of course, that would most of the time be me. His dad helps entertain his attention-seeking habit every now and then, but I had to do most of the survival life-skills tasks like feeding and bathing and washing after he poops.
Out of this daily time-consuming and 100%-attention-required tasks, I still do have a life. Oh yes, I still get to watch TV, and blog (although this one takes almost four hours if not more, due to having to stop in the middle of sentences to yell out, "Micah! The books will fall on you and that's gonna hurt!" or "Micah! That's glass!" or "Micah! You'll fall and hurt yourself!" All of these later made me realize that he's only FIVE MONTHS OLD and understands NONE of what I just said, which means that I had to get up from my seat and go pick him up. Upon picking him up, I tried to finish my sentences while carrying him on my lap, but he starts touching this and that, pulling wires and banging on the keypad, so I had to stop again and keep him away from things. Hold on, I have to go feed him, and maybe, just maybe, I can continue my post in between feeding him and giving him a bath. I will then put him to sleep so I can contitnue writing in peace). *smiles*
SIX HOURS LATER...
Where was I again? Oh yeah, I still get to watch TV, and blog. I read while feeding him because that is one of the activities that require very little movement. Once I've put him to sleep, I'd rush to do the laundry, take out the garbage, and bathe myself. Then again, it depends on how long he sleeps, which varies from 5 minutes to two hours.
I still get to hang out at music cafes with my husband... and Micah. It's a pretty weird sight to see a couple sipping beer with a stroller beside the table, but ya we do that. We still get to go to barbeques and such and hang out at friends' places, with Micah tagging along. We still have fun sometimes, but there are days that it gets hard, like when he refuses to be put down wanting to be held ALL the time, or when he's sleepy which makes him cranky but he just wouldn't doze off.
I also need to watch what I drink due to breastfeeding. But that dilemma would pretty soon be over once he learns that lacthing on to mommy's breasts is not the most valuable thing in the world. Ha ha.
Honestly, I get annoyed by him sometimes, especially when he won't stop crying and I have not the slightest idea of what he wants. My tone of voice would subconsciously turn higher when asking him to shush it. But then I would come to my senses that he's only a baby and that he's crying because he's probably in a more uncomfortable state than I am, and pray my mantra, "Lord, Love, Strength, and Patience NOW." And it would cool me down.
When I whine about being exhausting and wanting my privacy back to my aunts and fellow mommy friends, they can only say, "Wait till he starts to walk." *gulps*
But then again, it got me thinking, "Walking? Walking..." And then it would be running, then starting school, graduating, smoking, having a girlfriend, having sex, working, getting married... *closes eyes and stops imagining*
I find myself tearing up... I realize that he's only going to be a baby for a very short time. The next thing you know, he's all grown up and thinks that your opinion does't matter and thinks that he can take care of himself... There will come a day when I can't just hold him and cuddle him like I can now, when he starts to think that getting a kiss from mommy is not cool and embarassing... Oh, the terror...
It is at times like these that I appreciate him for who and what he is. He might take up all my time, energy and attention, and that might piss me off sometimes. But on days that I'm not annoyed and less selfish, I feel nothing but love for him and all I want to do is give him all the attention he wants and needs. I just want to hold him day to night and watch him smile, laugh, cry and giggle. I love to hear him coo, although one day I bet I'd find myself asking him not to talk so much. But for now, he can coo all he wants because I love to hear it.
So there you have it, the detailed answer of what being a mom is like. It's not all rainbows and butterflies, as it does get hard sometimes. But none of the hard times are worth giving up for the beauty of having a baby. That, I can assure you.
Gotta go now, for he awakes!
Cheers!
It's time-consuming. My life revolves around my baby, Micah, literally. I can't bathe, eat, go online, sleep, or do anything for that matter, on my own accord. I had to follow Micah's time. He had to be fed first, he had to be bathed first, he had to doze off (with me help obviously) first. Thank God for my wonderful mom and dad in-law who would voluntarily look after him when I need to eat. They'd ask, "Sudah makan kah? Pigi makan dulu lah, mari saya jaga dia skejap." Hihi. Nice folks. Love them to bits.
Coming to five months old, his interest had expanded beyond his mom's breasts and arms, so he would deliberately extend his hands to touch stuffs, reach out to things, roll over, and when he can't, he would call out for assistance from anybody who can hear him. Of course, that would most of the time be me. His dad helps entertain his attention-seeking habit every now and then, but I had to do most of the survival life-skills tasks like feeding and bathing and washing after he poops.
Out of this daily time-consuming and 100%-attention-required tasks, I still do have a life. Oh yes, I still get to watch TV, and blog (although this one takes almost four hours if not more, due to having to stop in the middle of sentences to yell out, "Micah! The books will fall on you and that's gonna hurt!" or "Micah! That's glass!" or "Micah! You'll fall and hurt yourself!" All of these later made me realize that he's only FIVE MONTHS OLD and understands NONE of what I just said, which means that I had to get up from my seat and go pick him up. Upon picking him up, I tried to finish my sentences while carrying him on my lap, but he starts touching this and that, pulling wires and banging on the keypad, so I had to stop again and keep him away from things. Hold on, I have to go feed him, and maybe, just maybe, I can continue my post in between feeding him and giving him a bath. I will then put him to sleep so I can contitnue writing in peace). *smiles*
SIX HOURS LATER...
Where was I again? Oh yeah, I still get to watch TV, and blog. I read while feeding him because that is one of the activities that require very little movement. Once I've put him to sleep, I'd rush to do the laundry, take out the garbage, and bathe myself. Then again, it depends on how long he sleeps, which varies from 5 minutes to two hours.
I still get to hang out at music cafes with my husband... and Micah. It's a pretty weird sight to see a couple sipping beer with a stroller beside the table, but ya we do that. We still get to go to barbeques and such and hang out at friends' places, with Micah tagging along. We still have fun sometimes, but there are days that it gets hard, like when he refuses to be put down wanting to be held ALL the time, or when he's sleepy which makes him cranky but he just wouldn't doze off.
I also need to watch what I drink due to breastfeeding. But that dilemma would pretty soon be over once he learns that lacthing on to mommy's breasts is not the most valuable thing in the world. Ha ha.
Honestly, I get annoyed by him sometimes, especially when he won't stop crying and I have not the slightest idea of what he wants. My tone of voice would subconsciously turn higher when asking him to shush it. But then I would come to my senses that he's only a baby and that he's crying because he's probably in a more uncomfortable state than I am, and pray my mantra, "Lord, Love, Strength, and Patience NOW." And it would cool me down.
When I whine about being exhausting and wanting my privacy back to my aunts and fellow mommy friends, they can only say, "Wait till he starts to walk." *gulps*
But then again, it got me thinking, "Walking? Walking..." And then it would be running, then starting school, graduating, smoking, having a girlfriend, having sex, working, getting married... *closes eyes and stops imagining*
I find myself tearing up... I realize that he's only going to be a baby for a very short time. The next thing you know, he's all grown up and thinks that your opinion does't matter and thinks that he can take care of himself... There will come a day when I can't just hold him and cuddle him like I can now, when he starts to think that getting a kiss from mommy is not cool and embarassing... Oh, the terror...
It is at times like these that I appreciate him for who and what he is. He might take up all my time, energy and attention, and that might piss me off sometimes. But on days that I'm not annoyed and less selfish, I feel nothing but love for him and all I want to do is give him all the attention he wants and needs. I just want to hold him day to night and watch him smile, laugh, cry and giggle. I love to hear him coo, although one day I bet I'd find myself asking him not to talk so much. But for now, he can coo all he wants because I love to hear it.
So there you have it, the detailed answer of what being a mom is like. It's not all rainbows and butterflies, as it does get hard sometimes. But none of the hard times are worth giving up for the beauty of having a baby. That, I can assure you.
Gotta go now, for he awakes!
Cheers!
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