Monthly Archives: December 2015

I should move on

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Aran stepped out from her place with some of her friends. And there he was, chatting with his friends.

Fabian.

Aran fell silent. She was hurt. She still remembered how they went separate ways years ago. Without any explanation. No more texts, no more chats, no more… us.

But she walked toward him anyway. If she was going to feel hurt again, it wouldn’t make any difference. She’s already broken.

“Hey.”

Fabian swung his head. That voice sounded familiar.

And there she was. The girl she used to trust with everything. The girl she used to love.

“Hey.” He tried to smile.

“What are you doing here?” Aran asked.

“Chilling with friends.” He replied half honestly. It’s true that he was there to meet his old friends, but he was also there hoping he could meet her.

Aran looked at him straight on the eye. Those eyes that she used to look for when she tried to find honesty of a friend.

There were so many things unsaid between them, so many things that she still couldn’t understand.

But then.

They chose to start small.

“I know.” Finally Aran said. I know why are you here. I know you.

“… I won’t go anywhere.” Fabian said.

“I know that too,” Aran told him. “Just promise me, if you are leaving again, let me know.”

Fabian could sense that she was still hurt.

“I will.”

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Note:

It was 2007. A friend of mine left me without any goodbye or whatsoever. It’s like our 5 years of friendship is nothing. I know that I should move on, but I also know that I need a closure. And I guess I am hoping for it more than ever, hence this dream happened. I hope one day, I can find the answers that I need, so I can move on.

Things I Love About My Husband

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(brace yourself, this is going to be a post filled with sappy words and lots of compliments :p)

His patience is really something

If you know me, you know that I am a hot headed person. And luckily for me, Husband is the complete opposite. When I explode, he will just wait for me to calm down while listening to me ranting on and on. And his patience does not only apply to me. It also applies to everyone.

He rarely complains

You will never hear complains on small stuffs, even some big stuffs, from him. He said there are other things that need more energy and attention from us.

He’s a man of his words

When he promises you something, he will do his best to make it true. When he really can’t do it, he will let you know in advance and rest assured he will make it up to you.

He’s been nothing but supportive on every decisions I made

When I took my Master degree, whenever I was busy with classes and assignments, he took care of himself and he took care of me as well. When I went to Japan for my study, he never failed to cheer me up or even sent me cookies all the way from Singapore.

He eats whatever I cook

I am not a great cook, but whatever I cook, he always eats them. His favorite so far is my risoles with mayo!

He dotes on Zal ALL THE TIME

You think I am Zal’s biggest fan? Nope, sorry. This tiger mom here does not hesitate to glare at him if he makes me angry. But Husband? Whatever Zal does is adorable on his eyes.

He is a Math lover and overall a geek

Why do you think I fall for him at the first place?

He shares my love for manga and Sherlock

We often argued on who’s going to read newest edition of Conan first. He was the one who introduced me to Bleach and Yakitate Japan. And I can’t be with someone who doesn’t love Sherlock.

He always thinks the best of people 

Husnudzon, if you will. Sometimes this trait upsets me, but most of the time it amazes me. In a world like this, someone like him still exists. It’s like he’s a rare breed.

He’s the most handsome guy I’ve ever met

‘Nuff said.

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There are other things that I think should be in this list, but let’s keep this one short and simple. Or otherwise some people would puke reading this, lol.

On Zal and School

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Mum: If Zal can’t really speak Indonesian, then what will be of him at school later..?
Me: …

So many miscommunications in single chat, but I don’t think I want to correct them now.

First, just because Zal speaks alphabets and numbers in English, doesn’t mean we don’t teach or talk to him in Indonesian. His mbak talks to him in Indonesian, and although we mainly talk with him in English (me, most of the time), he still understands Indonesian perfectly. Sure, most of his nursery rhymes are in English, but it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t know some in Indonesian. And trust me, babies/toddlers are more than capable of handling bilingualism, or even multilingualism.

Second, we never said that Zal is going to school in Indonesia.

Ok, perhaps we’re at fault here. But really, we are not even sure when are we going to go back to Indonesia for good. To be honest, I still want to explore the world. Husband wants the same as well. We both are worried with the school system in Indonesia, and honestly, we kinda don’t want Zal to go to school there.

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Go on, judge us for not being nationalists. Like we care. If going to school somewhere else is the best for our children and our family, then we are going to do it.

Again

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“I really… really like you…”

Ella heard the voice from behind her. Toby’s hands were slowly enveloping her in a back hug. And Ella could feel herself moving away. No.

“Ella.”

“No,” she firmly said. And she felt like crying. I need him.

And then she left, half running.

*

Ella finally found the elevator. Harry was teaching a class at level 3.

“Ella!”

And there was Toby, still chasing her. She contemplated to just use the stairs beside the elevator. But anyway.

“Ella, wait!”

Ella didn’t care. She just wanted to see Harry. She needed to see him. She felt like her chest was going to explode. She didn’t know how to explain it, but she knew seeing and hugging Harry would make her feel better.

“Stay away, Toby,” Ella finally said, still waiting for the elevator to come.

Toby froze. “Ella, I thought you like me too.”

“No, I don’t. And I will never like you. You should know that we’re friends, and I love Harry with all my heart.”

“I know you have Harry, but I thought—”

“That I am going to leave Harry for you? No, I won’t. I will never leave him for anyone else.”

The elevator door opened. Ella rushed in, and Toby didn’t chase her.

It only took a short time for her to reach level 3, and when she finally did, she dashed to the classroom where she finally found Harry.

There he was. Standing in front of the class. It looked like they were just about to finish since everyone started to clean up their desk.

Harry noticed him from inside, and he half smiled. Ella tried to smile as well, but she was pretty sure her face denied her. She knew that her tears were going to drop soon.

And Harry saw it.

He left his desk instantly and walked through the door.

“Are you ok?” He asked with concern when he was finally standing in front of her.

Ella shook her head. She’s always honest with Harry.

“What happened?” He asked again.

Ella fell silent. Harry had been right all along. He was right when he told her not to be too kind to Toby. He was right when he told her to keep her distance. But Ella being Ella, of course she ignored all of them. And she paid the price.

“Can I just hug you?” Ella replied.

And then and there, Harry knew. “Come.”

Ella hugged him. And then her tears came. “Harry….,” she sobbed.

Harry hugged her tight.

Ella suddenly felt safe. She’s still scared, but she knew she would get better soon.

*

Note:

Yes, I had another weird dream moment. I woke up feeling so sad that I couldn’t help feeling like writing this down. I don’t know who I am sad for. Ella, Harry, or even Toby? I just knew I felt so heartbroken and scared.

Writing these weird dreams has been therapeutic so far, and maybe one day I will manage to make them as one story? Perhaps.

OK, off to work.

22 months old

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With the coming of December 12, I welcomed the 22th monthiversary of Zal! 🙂

Sometimes (ok, most of the times) I can’t believe that once a baby of mine is now a toddler. He’s just two months shy from 2 years old, and he’s already showing signs of wanting to have his own independence.

Starts showing his tantrum

Once he wants to have something, he MUST have it. Now he’s throwing anything and punching me/his Papa if we don’t grant his wish, and it’s often me who timed-out him. I guess I am really becoming a tiger mom in this parenting thing.

When I time-out him, I would make my voice sounds deeper and with more tone. I am trying to send signal to him that his behaviour is not good. Well, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. If he’s too upset, he will ignore me and continue throwing tantrum. If he’s already like that, we will ignore him as well. Most of the times, it ends up with him sobbing and putting his face onto my lap, followed by nursing request after that.

We have been trying to teach him to control his tantrum, but it has been a rocky journey. We don’t tell him to suppress his anger, but to control it. It’s ok to be angry, it’s just not ok to throw things and punch people.

Potty training starts!

His mbak has been training him to tell us if he wants to poop or pee. Again, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. One time, he only said ‘Pee’ when he already peed and wet his pants, haha.

More and more food!

As his nursing journey is coming to an end (SOBS), he starts taking less and less EBM during the day (and my supply is diminishing greatly, anyway). The side impact is, of course, he’s eating more and more. Currently, he’s having bread and banana oatmeal for breakfast, three times of EBM, 2-3 times of main meal, and a lot of oranges plus water.

And he’s a HUGE fan of orange! He can eat 5-6 medium oranges during the day sometimes it’s scary.

Know alphabets, numbers, and some words

I swear I am not pushing him to learn earlier.

Zal is still not progressing a lot on his speech; he prefers to point on things that he want. He is already able to say some things though, but we still need to encourage him.

  • Nam-nam – makan – eat
  • Num-num – minum – drink; for water
  • Nenen – nurse
  • Susu – milk; refers to his EBM since he’s still on full breastmilk.
  • Zeruk/Gung gung – orange
  • Jan – hujan – rain
  • Jo – ijo – green; refers to green light.
  • Bus
  • Car
  • Bum bum – his stroller
  • Head
  • Chin – but he points at his chest instead
  • Nose
  • Mouth
  • Leg
  • Arm

And on top of that, he already recognizes alphabets and numbers. I bought him a flashcard few months ago to play with him. And he loves it. He knows full alphabets now. As for numbers, he has been learning them from nursery songs that he love. Now, whenever we go out and saw some big signs, Zal will spell them.

Imitates shalat and praying movements

I saved the best for last :’)

Nothing tears me up as much as seeing my little boy taking prayer mat whenever he sees either me or his Papa doing shalat. He will follow our movements, albeit not perfect. And once we’re done, he will follow us praying and closing it with his ‘Min~’ (short for ‘ameen’).

After that, he will take our hands and halfway kiss them, and ‘sayang’ (kiss) us.

Even typing this brings tears to my eyes.

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I start to understand my parents’ emotion whenever they see us accomplish somethings. They are happy to see us succeed in something, but it also feels bittersweet for them cause it means we’re one step further to reach our independence and less dependent on them.

When you’re a parent, having your kids relying on you is the best feeling. Cherish them before they’re letting your hands go.

Stop this war

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Looks familiar? Yeah, it does for me too.

I am always irked whenever I see a post like this; shaming working mothers as if they don’t love their children as much as stay at home mothers do. And really? Are you seriously comparing children with gold?

A bit of disclaimer why I feel like I have the right to feel irked. I was raised by a stay at home mom (SAHM) and Husband was raised by working mom (WM). We both turned out fine, and no, never once we both think my mother in law doesn’t love her children as much as my mother loves hers.

Now, I am also a WM. AND BELIEVE ME, not one hour passes at office without me thinking about my son. All mothers love their children, that’s what I believe. But the way we love our children can be different, and it doesn’t need to be the same with other mothers, for God’s sake!

So stop shaming working mothers if you don’t know the battles they fight every day. And stop judging unless you don’t mind being judged by someone else. Karma is a b*tch, woman!