My Life

Mistakes

2009-11-13T15:09:00.004+07:00

Mistakes are supposed to be our teachers, right?
What if we know that what we're doing is wrong, is a huge mistake, but still do it anyway?
A lot of kinds of mistakes seem easy enough to avoid when happened to other people. When it's happening so damn close to us, it's always unavoidable.
The shallow point of view seems to be so damn ironic, even mocking.
Some say that our mistakes are what shaped us to be who we are right this moment. Do we honestly believe that?
Just a thought...
What if we can avoid those mistakes? Would that make us less than what we are today?

Dream a Little Dream

2009-09-09T09:15:00.002+07:00

Had this dream last night. A kind of reunion. Some pals were there. including the younger SB and his close friends. They were married except for the close friend. The close friend treated me as if we had still been in high school. Brought back a lot of good memories.

SB asked me 'bout the new house and said he was impressed with it. Told him it wasn't ours and wished to God it was. Something happened then. A reconnection kinda thing. Had never fancied him in a romantic way, yet never really quite platonic. Guess it was somewhere in between.

Was glad to know he was doin' OK. Still am. Miss him. Miss all the stuff from back then.

Wonder if I had really given up the old life, as I call it. Or perhaps I just burried it and every once in a while, it surfaces for air. Dunno, really don't.
But know for sure a free-spirited girl is hidden deep down inside.

I B U

2009-03-03T09:52:00.004+07:00

Today was supposed to be my mom's 62nd birthday if she had been alive.

I don't think about her as much as I used to. I guess my life has been pretty occupied with a husband, three kids, a household, a job, and a whole-woman-being to worry about.

All I can think about when I remember my departed mother is how strong she had been. I just hope someday I can be as strong as she had been. Amin.

My Daughter's Fame

2009-02-19T11:25:00.003+07:00

Just the other day, as I got back from work, my husband picked me up at the side of the main road where I usually get off the bus.
As usual, my oldest daughter and my son came along.
Then, when we were almost home, some girls, about the same age as my oldest, called out..."Khansa!"
And my daughter replied with a mature-like "Apa?!"
Wow!
My daughter's famous.
I'm not really a neighbor-going-talking person. I'm pleased that my daughter is not as aloof as I am.
We have just moved to this new rented place about a couple of months ago and yet my daughter has made a lot of friends. More than I do-I only talk to my next door neighbors, occasionally.
She's almost never home now. She knows her way around our new neighborhood. She knows her friends and plays with them endlessly.
I'm glad and sad at the same time. I'm glad that she has no problems in adjusting or going into new surroundings. I'm sad that she already has a world of her own, which I'm not really apart of.
I'm still trying to cherish the toddlerhood moments here but she's breaking free and soon will be too busy to chat with ibu!
Grow well and good, my daughter!

A Special Morning

2009-01-29T14:26:00.005+07:00

One Special Morning With A Special Boy

I spent this special morning with a very special boy, my son Tristan. As I finished getting dressed this morning, my son got out of bed and came to me. He told me he needed to go to the toilet, number two. So... I escorted him and left him in the toilet. Few minutes later, he called me, telling me that he was done. As I was getting his shorts, he said he wanted to take a shower. I was already all dressed up for work but I gave him his shower anyway.
After he was all dressed up, he went out of the house. Just hanging. His sisters were not awake yet.
Then, I thought I'd go and get some breakfast while waiting for my husband to get ready. So I went out. As I expected, Tristan wanted to come. So we went out together.
Then, there we were, eating "nasi uduk" together at a foodstall by the small street near my house.
We had small talks. He still couldn't speak clearly enough for anyone to know. I understand him, though. Well, on plenty occasions.
Anyway, we had quite an teresting conversation, he and I. Then, we walked home, he was still in his chatty mood.
Then, when my husband was giving me a ride on my way to the office, Tristan still wanted to come. My husband said it was OK. He could get back home afterwards.
So... it was quite a ride! He kept going on and on about seeing big and small buses! It was a lot of fun! I don't really spend that much time with him alone.
With his older sister, I spend a lot of time alone with her. His little sister... Well, I'm with her almost all the time.

Thankful

2009-01-27T08:54:00.004+07:00

Being thankful.
I had a thought as I was on my way to the office today. Ooooo, spooky!
Does being thankful mean that we cannot think about the past in a joyous fashion?
I mean, sometimes when the present is kind of... well, to be blunt, suck... I like to think back to the past, to the happier moments of my life. Sometimes just a little while back, sometimes it's way way back.
I am being grateful and thankful for the general idea of my present life. It's the little details that sometimes occur to be less gratefulish and thankfulish.
I don't know... I guess life's supposed to do that. Bring you up and bring you down at some points.
I'll try to look at it from another perspective. I've got a lot of good things going on in my life now.
My three wonderful wonderful children. When they sleep and their wonderfulness sleeps too, there's always my husband... Not really an equal comparison by any means.
My job... Well, I just agreed to become a full-timer and was promoted to be one a little over a month ago.
And... Well... I guess when it sucks, it really does suck.
Pardon my language... Other terms wouldn't be so politically correct. Whatever that means.
I'm babbling...
Anyway... I guess the way my mind works is pretty frustratingly confusing to others... To my husband anyway...
Well, Adios!

PS:
I'm attaching my youngest latest picture from my cell... the cute little devil...

Accepting Differences

2008-11-26T10:33:00.003+07:00

I wonder why can't some people accept differences.

I got thinking this morning as I was on my way to the office.
The reason, probably the only reason, why I can accept differences is that I was different once. Well, I guess I've always been different.

As a kid, I was separated from my other siblings because of the age difference. I'm the youngest of eight and my older brother just before me was born twelve years before I was.

As a girl, growing up as student, I always acted differently. I hung out with boys, acted like one, was indifferent, a little harsh, listened to music that not so many girls would have enjoyed, and... I have a laundry list of the differences but those are my top ones.

Then as a college girl, I shaved my head a few times, wore a ring on the nose right between my eyes, whose piercing still left a distinguished mark. So... I was undeniably different from the rest of the flock.

I've always been that kind of different until I met my husband. He sort of asked me to behave like a proper girl. Well, I managed.

Some people still think I'm different, crazy or even out of this world. But, I am who I am. A girl who has grown up in such a unique way.
I love it...being me.

I just hope some people who cannot accept differences very well...will cut me some slack and see me as I am with all my capabilities and competencies when they matter.

Malam Takbiran

2008-09-30T20:43:00.000+07:00

Malam Takbiran!
It's quiet and I'm tired. Been cooking all day and ignoring my kids.
I'm not sure my Ramadhan this year is a success.
I'm trying not to be so money-driven yet I end up being so.
It's a little hard to be idealistic when the world has become a giant materialistic one.
I know I'm not as patient as I plan to be or as a good girl as I plan to be. Right now I'm just tired, exhausted, worn-out. But I know I gotta keep trying, gotta keep on smiling at this wretched world yet the only one I've ever known.
Peace yo!

Worries

2008-09-16T00:23:00.000+07:00

I'm feeling pretty worried now. Don't know why I do but I do. All there worries are eating me alive. I'm feeling pretty bad right now. I guess it's all because things don't work out as planned. And I've got a lot of mess to tidy up. My plans seem to fall apart lately. Guess time and luck are not on my side this time.
Well, I'll survive I suppose.

Family Gathering

2008-09-15T09:13:00.004+07:00

Yesterday, I went to Pamulang to attend a family gathering plus a fast-breaking and a birthday celebration of Rara's, my niece.

I went with my whole family, my husbands and my three kids.

On our way there, as we had anticipated, my son, Tristan, got car-sick. The cab driver was not a smooth driver so it worsened the car-sick. Even I felt a little light-headed during the long journey. Well, it actually took about an hour, but felt like an eternity since we... I haven't traveled that long a distance for a while.

As we arrived the whole flock was almost complete.

The host, my brother , mas Yuli, and his wife, mbak Wiwiek and their brithday daughter, Rara.

My sister, Bunda, with her whole family, Ayah, mas Yoga, and mbak Yogi.

Mbak Pami.

Mas Agus with his wife, mbak Ambar, and their two kids, mbak Ajeng and mas Dimas.

Mas Tedi, mbak Rini, mbak Galuh, and mas Galih arrived few minutes after we did.

Mamah and Papah arrived a little before Maghrib.

My oldest brother, mas Didik didn'come, though.

Well, I do have a big family. Four brothers and three sisters, along with nieces and nephews and even grandchildren. WOW!

There were also mbak Wiwiek's parents.

Well, I just felt happy because we haven't gathered for a long time. Well, at least for my own little family.

It was good to see the people I grew up with. They kept saying I look too thin. Well, I did lose some weight. But, I'm not THAT thin! Not yet! I'm going to go on a diet once I'm not breastfeeding anymore.

Anyway, we went back driven by my brother, mas Agus, in his new three-hundred-million-something Honda CRV. It was nice, but my son managed to throw up once more before falling asleep, exhausted. Poor boy!

We woke later than usual this morning. I guess we're all just too exhausted. But, I'd say we're quite happy.

Here's a picture of mas Dimas and Kiandra:

My Dearest Kiandra

2008-09-11T09:16:00.005+07:00

My youngest had a fever few days ago. I didn't go to work that day.
And last night, she was a little cranky and wanted to be picked up all the time. And she wanted to picked up by me.
My first instinct was that she must've been hurt, psychologically, by our helper.
My husband said that she missed me and somehow felt the bad feelings I might feel.
I don't know... All I know is that I do have a bad feeling.
A bad feeling about leaving her in the care of someone I don't really trust, about leaving her for too long, longer than I've ever left her older siblings when they were her age.
I wish I could afford staying home and taking care of her longer that I am.
I'm so sorry Kiandra. I do love you, sweety-pie.

Chest Pain

2008-09-08T10:30:00.003+07:00

I've been having this chest pain. I didn't really pay any attention to it at first.
But lately the pain is getting more significant.
I'm experiencing it now. And it's kind of hard to breathe.
Hope it's nothing.
Well, I just hope I'll leave something noticeable enough if I leave this world.

My New Elnusa Class

2008-08-22T10:48:00.006+07:00

A relative offered me a teaching job at his office. This relative is a cousin of my brother in law's.

After an agreement about the contract and so forth is reached, I started to teach at Elnusa Bangkanai last Tuesday (Aug 19).

The participants are Desi, Sonya, Windy, Sinta, Farida, and Yenny.

Desi is a nice woman, mother of two children, living in Cipete area.

Sonya is a unique woman with a thick Javanese accent, mother of two daughters, a marine's wife.

Windy is an ethnical woman, working wife, living in Cibubur.

Sinta is a gigglish woman, mother of one, living in Bogor.

Farida is a 28-year-old single woman, originating from North Sumatra and South Sulawesi.

Yenny is a creative woman, a snob at the first impression.

On the first day, I gave them a grammar test. They just did the test quietly. Yenny came late and acted like the office were hers. Understood!

I left the office feeling a little overwhelmed and a little regretful. I felt guilty for leaving my little children too long in a day. But... God has given us a way to get out of our debt frenzy. So, I must be grateful and live it thru, right?

On the second day (Aug 21), I gave them a writing task and some materials about introductions and personal info. They had to create a short dialog at the end and... they came up with creative stuff. And they started to open up and we had quite some fun. I found out that Yenny is actually childless. She was a little more friendly last Thursday.

Well, I'm just glad we've got a way.

"Kiandra, I'm very sorry for leaving you for too long even when you are not one year old yet. I hope you'll grow up to be a very good girl, smart and pretty, quiet and wise. I wish I'll be able to give you more attention, the way you deserve."

Dedicated to Naila Kiandra Sukma Insani

A Trip to Cisarua 2: A Tale of A Departing Mom

2008-07-21T10:41:00.003+07:00

Finally, after a long and winding road... I arrived at the office on July 16, at ten to seven.

My husband's last words before I left was : DO NOT COME HOME TOO LATE!

All excited, I waited for the time to leave for Cisarua, the place where I was going to attend a workshop.

I left the office at around 7.30. I shared the office car with Cicik, mbak Fitri, and mbak Rita. As we hit the highway, Cicik fell asleep and snored, out loud!

Mbak Fitri tried to get a little nap. I think she did a little while.

Mbak Rita, sitting alone on the backseat, was preparing for the workshop she was going to give.

Me... I tried to sleep but I couldn't. I just listened to the music from my N5310.

Pak Rahmat, the driver, took glances at snoring Cicik every once in a while.

Then we arrived at Wisma Kacha at around 8.30. The trip only took about an hour.

As I arrived, I called my husband, telling him that I had arrived and the trip had taken only an hour. He said the kids were OK, considering I had left when they were still asleep. (I left home at 5.55.)

While waiting for the others to come, we wandered around. I got on the swing with Shinta.

Then, we started the workshop. It was quite interesting, considering the venue. We held it in one of the bedrooms in the villa. The workshop was about how to write good stories for children and teenagers.

Then, we ate, played basketball... Well, not really played. We just shot some balls to the hoop.

We took pictures. A lot!

Then, we headed back. We arrived at the office again at twenty to five. The trip back was even faster. It took only about forty minutes.

Finally, I was home again. Meeting my babies and my beloved husband....

All those worries for nothing! I had a blast!

What A Trip!

A Trip to Cisarua 1: A Tale of A Doubtful Mom

2008-07-17T12:24:00.003+07:00

Phewww...
When I found out that my sub-directorate was going to have a workshop that was going to be held out of town, I felt that I was not going to go. The place was in the higher part of Jakarta, called Puncak. Cisarua to be exact.
How can I even think about going? I still leave my youngest with my mother in law while I work. And the trip would probably take a whole day. A very long time compared to the usual time I'm away for work. I usually leave for work at around 7 or 7.15. I come home at around 3 or 3.30. What a dillema!
My friends kept saying that there was no way that I could back out from this one.
What have I?

(To be continued)

The Differences

2008-07-11T12:37:00.002+07:00

I just realized this morning how different my husband and I really are.
As we were leaving for work this morning, we passed through a house with a unique gate. The iron gate looks artistic and complicated. I told my husband about it and he immediately said that it'd be a difficult gate because it would be difficult to clean it or repaint it.
He always thinks in a practical way. Whereas, I'm the complicated one with the complicated thoughts.
Our differences don't end there. We have a lot more differences.
We have different taste in food, clothing, the way we value life, sights on how we are going to raise our three children, and many other things. Things I cannot explain one by one.
Nevertheless, we are inseparable. I cannot imagine living without him. And I don't think he can either.
I dreamed about him dying once. In my dream I was so lost and confused and... basically I couldn't live normally.
There are times when I just hated him and wanted to be away from him. But, I don't want to live without him. Really!
I guess, I have to value what I have more than I already do.
C'est La Vie...

I'm 30

2008-07-02T08:58:00.002+07:00

I'm thirty years old now. I just turned thirty on June 22.
Let's see... What have I got now?

A husband, a wonderful, faithful, patient husband.

An active, intelligent, curious, three-year-old daughter named Khansa Alifa Suci.

A mischievous yet obedient and socially intelligent, two-year-old son named Muhammad Tristan Daffa Adji.

A beautiful, active, calm, four-month-old daughter named Naila Kiandra Sukma Insani.

And many more...

Sometimes, I can't believe the things I've been through.

I remember the night my husband and I started to become a couple.

I remember the day he came to my sister's house with his family to propose to me.

I remember the day we got married. It was a sunny day. It was simple. Luckily I realized then that it was the beginning of a whole new life instead of the end. It WAS the end of our courtship, though.

I remember the first time I took a pregnancy test. I did it all wrong. I put the testing bar upside down... Silly!

I remember my first visit to the obgyn with my first pregnancy. It was one of the most thrilling experiences in my life. I got to see the fetus swim inside my womb through an ultrasound scan. WOW!

I remember the first child delivery. I had to be induced at first. But it didn't work. At around two in the afternoon, the midwife told me I had to be operated since my water had broken. I was completely stressed out. My blood pressure went up the ceiling. It was my first experience being in the hospital as a patient and I had to be operated. But I survived... And all my worries were gone as I took a look at my beautiful baby daughter... I fell in love right away. It was the truest meaning of love at first sight.

I remember giving birth for the second time. It had to be through c-section, too. It was a little more painful than the first. I was alone as I was being prepared for the operation. But, I said to my self and my baby that we were going to be alright, that we have to tough it out! And we were alright! I didn't fall for my second child, a son, right away. But he was sick. That was the moment that I fell. He suffered from high billirubin, he was jaundiced. I was afraid that he was not going to be ok. The hospital didn't want us to lave yet but my husband insisted that we did. And we finally did. My son has grown up to be very healthy.

I remember my third child labor. All I could say is it was the most painful c-section I've ever gone through. Probably because I also had tubectomy. My third baby is very beautiful. The quietest of the three as a baby. And my two oldest were quite quiet, in terms of cying. She also had high billirubin. But now she is very healthy, very cute, very active, cheerful, and loveable.

Now... I'm just going to concentrate on giving a better home for them and saving enough for their education.

Moving...

2008-06-24T08:55:00.000+07:00

I'm looking forward to the near future.

Well... One of the reasons is that I'm going to move in to my old house. Well... it's not THAT old.
The house that I'm referring to is the house that I lived in for three years when I was in senior high. I had lived there with my mom, and my mom only.

I moved out of there when I was in the third grade of senior high. I did so because my mom got sick real bad. She suffered from a stroke. So, we moved out of the house to go living withmy sister in Joglo. Quite a transition. I was used to have my own space at ALL time then suddenly I had to share bedroom with my niece, I had to wait for my turn to take a shower, I had to be dependent on others to go to school, I had to be dependent period. Hated it! A lot!

I tried to go back to my house, alone. But my sister and my other siblings called and TOLD me to go to Joglo because I did not have the ability to live alone at that time. Easy for them to say... I was only seventeen and had to go through a tremendous change.

Anyway, I survived... My mom passed away about eight years ago, after I started my job as an English teacher at LIA for A WEEK.

Now... Well, I have three kids of my own. With my husband as the "investor" of course.
And... Our small rented house is becoming more and more crowded and very very small. So, we (my husband and I) have decided to move to our house in Pamulang. The one I left around thirteen years ago.

Sometimes, I wish I could give more to them. Yet, I'm not able to just yet, or may never be, who knows. My children are the most precious possessions I've got now. I really hope they grow up well to be good. Amin.

Dedicated to Khansa Alifa Suci, Muhammad Tristan Daffa Adji, and Naila Kiandra Sukma Insani.

Why

2008-05-26T13:06:00.000+07:00

why do people talk nonsense
why do people talk badly about others
why do we have to be so troubled about what they say
why does what they say have such importance
why do we even have to care

2007-11-05T14:03:00.000+07:00

I'm having my third child and i'm excited.

What we have to give up for a better living...

2007-10-01T13:08:00.000+07:00

Just the other day, I got a job offer. The financial part was definitely a lot better than the one I've already got. Yet, when I found out that I had all the requirements and that the director was ready to welcome me into the company, I also found out something else, something quite disappointing. This company, being an international one, had a policy for female workers not to wear headdress (known as "jilbab") while working. I refused in an instant to take it off. It's a matter of personal belief and principle. Besides, what's that got to do with my performance or competency or even my being?
Before that day, I've only heard or read about discrimination. Now that I've experienced it myself...Man! IT IS UNFAIR to the truest sense.

Today (Sept 18/07)

2007-09-17T11:40:00.000+07:00

Today's Monday. And like any other Mondays, it was a little more difficult to leave the house for work than any other day of the week. One reason is my kids (Khansa, 2 and Tristan, 1) are so used to having us (my husband and me) during the weekend and they don't want us to leave on Monday mornings.

This morning, my daughter woke up first and she came looking for me. I was in the bathroom. She asked me what I was doing. Then she came looking for her still fast asleep dad.

My son woke up when he heard his older sister shouted. Then he just climbed down from the bed (something he had just learned to do and has been doing a little too often lately) and joined her.

Soon they were up and around, singing and playing (my daughter just loves to sing, yet my son has not uttered a single complete comprehensive word yet.)

As I was powdering my face, my daughter told me to put on my lipstick (something I haven't done in a little while.) So I did. I laughed at the irony. My two-something daughter told me to wear lipstick just like I told her the other day to put on her sandals.

As I was leaving (my husband left the house before I did, leaving the gruesome last goodbye all to me), my daughter wanted to give me a ride to the office. I asked her to stay home and take care of her little brother. That didn't work. I asked her to stay and watch the house while I was away. Nope, that didn't work either. Finally, I told her that she could watch her favorite Cinderella story. Almost worked but...I really had to leave, so I left anyway. When I was almost out of sight, my son came out of the house and watched with his usual melancholic stare as I waved goodbye. That was it! I left the house successfully, meaning none of my kids was crying.

What a morning!