A bit of update on the people around me..

Hubs is going to climb Mount Kinabalu next month with his brother, so he’s been keeping fit this past few weeks. Every weekend he’d get up early and head on to Batu Caves, which is nearby our place, and climb those 272 steps for a few rounds. At first he would just walk up the stairs and then he began to jog. Now (I think) he’s beginning to run up those steps. He has also enrolled himself in a gym nearby the office so after work he’d stay back a while for a run on the treadmill and a quick swim. As the supporting wife, I also try to feed him healthily, though my idea of ‘healthy cooking’ is pretty limited considering I’m not much of a cook and am not that fit myself. But I do try. I’ve been limiting spicy and oily foods for dinner, and have made soups and bake as often as I can.

Seeing him this determined in preparing himself for the climb makes me wanna keep fit myself. Unfortunately, the ‘lazy me’ is still very much prevalent than the ‘ideal me’ who wants to get toned. Besides, I can’t seem to find the time and opportunity, what with Rayyan being a hugger most of the time. But hope is not all that lost. I really don’t wish to be a sickly being next to a fit husband, so I’ve been strapping Rayyan on myself while doing house chores these past few days. It takes quite a lot of getting used to as the sling is not as comfy as most people claim it to be. I do hope this ‘exercise’ is working ‘coz carrying a 5 over kilo boy sure is exhausting!

Speaking of our son, we brought him for his first medical checkup last week. The pediatrician was pleasantly surprised to see him so semangat -he weighed a good 5.07kg from just 2.8kg at birth. He got his first shot, to which he cried a wee bit before settling down as Papa rocked him on the shoulder. When asked about his wheezing and breathing that’s bogged down by a lot of phlegm, the doc asked a string of questions. Do any of us or family members have asthma? Do we sleep with the air-condition on at night? Since when has he been like this? Is he breast or formula fed? After a while his diagnose was this: Rayyan may have a milk allergy. He suggested that we switch to a soy-based formula and that I stop eating dairy products for a while as the allergen may be passed on to him through my milk.

Wow, cutting back dairy from my diet proves to be much harder than my pantang! At least for the former, all I needed to do was avoid eggs and foods that are gassy, ‘sharp’ and ‘windy’. Staying clear of milk products means goodbye to almost all of my favourite food! That’s cheese, ice-cream, chocolates, yogurts, yogurt drinks, lassi and most cakes and desserts. Oh well, sayang anak punya pasal kan..

As for our beloved little girl, Tasha has been such a good girl. She’s proof that it’s always nice to have a daughter for a first born .. While she may have her tantrums and temper, like most kids do, she will always attend to her baby brother whenever he lets out as much as an ‘Eekk’ sound. And when a full blown cry erupts, she’ll be the one bossing me to get the milk ready with her “Mami, quick, adik is cryyyying!!”. So sweet.

But really, would babies who are not swaddled end up walking with bent, O-shaped legs as adults? I guess the only sure-fire way to find out is to conduct a simple study -gather as many people who walk funny as possible and ask them whether or not they were swaddled when they were babies. Obviously, this is no easy task as (1) these people won’t even know or remember, and (2) it’d be extremely offensive to ask them that especially if they don’t realize that they walk funny. A cheaper and more practical way to knowing the truth would be to read about it from those who are scientifically knowledgeable on the matter.

Thanks to the internet, I googled this issue and found out that hey, surprise, surprise, swaddling babies to make their legs straight is just a myth. In fact, some experts claim that we shouldn’t swaddle babies for too long as this may affect their hip development or motoring skills. I should’ve seen that coming, but being the traditional (and slightly chicken) me, I simply swallowed and followed what my elders tell me ‘coz they seem to have the wisdom (right?).

Thing is, although leg straightening is utter rubbish, there are other benefits to swaddling. For one, it helps babies to calm down if they’re having trouble sleeping or experiencing colic. Have you noticed that for really small babies, even with the slightest sound or movement, they will startle in their sleep? Some babies can go back to sleep easily while others may end up crying for hours. I guess this is mother nature’s way of telling us the bond between mom and child begins right from the womb. A snug swaddle may resemble the warmth these babies feel when in their mommies’ wombs, so it sort of coax them to go back to sleep should they be startled. Another benefit of swaddling is that it eases breastfeeding, ‘cos hey, who wants to feed babies’ with their arms flailing about?

So why am I talking about this topic today?

I used to swaddle Rayyan for about 3 weeks but not anymore and to be honest, I’m feeling pretty bad about it. It’s not that I purposely do not want to swaddle him, it’s just that even when swaddled, his legs tend to curl inwards i.e. not straight, so what’s the point? And he’s such a good baby -not being difficult or colicky (crossing fingers this is a permanent thing!) that I didn’t want to subject him to the common practice unnecessarily. In fact, he can sleep quite soundly even when ‘hang loose’, other than to cry for food or nappy change. So why am I feeling bad? Don’t know lah.. Maybe it’s because  I’m a traditional chicken. Traditional as in I tend to follow customs and the ‘usual’ practices and chicken ‘cos I feel takut-takut, like, what if I don’t do it and then the baby turns out unwell etc. Hubby on the other hand is not superstitious and doesn’t like to be too rigid in following these practices. Guess that makes him a good balance for me. I do need him around to be more unconventional and not feel too bad when not doing what others find common. While I don’t know for sure what I’m doing is ideal or not, I’m beginning to embrace the thought that so long as the baby’s happy (happy babies don’t cry, right?) and healthy (this one I gotta confirm with his doctor in 3 weeks), it should be no big deal.

Still, I do have that urge to tuck him in the blanket, kinda like a semi swaddle from time to time..

So, what exactly have I not been observing? I think it would be easier to explain that if one compares it with what I did observe the last time, and that can be read here. But knowing how most people can’t be bothered to read links within links, I’ll just highlight the important bits and do the comparison below for convenience.

The following in italics are excerpts of my past pantang regime and I have made notes of what I did (or did not d0) this time around:

“I was fortunate to have stayed with my MIL, who is a full-time homemaker, during my confinement. Every morning before breakfast and evening before Maghrib, she would come to my room and lumur me with oil and give me a nice all-over-body rub…” ~~ OK, I’m still lucky to have my MIL around this time but she only stayed with me for 20 days before going back to kampung, and since she’s not in the pinkest of health herself, I can’t bear to let her massage me as often as before, so I was pretty happy that she was willing to do the occasional rubs when she can!

“My own mom, a true Javanese lady, made me follow her simpler version of confinement during the entire 45 days. Here’s a list:

• eat 3-4 types of jamu daily ~~ Nope, did not consume any sort of jamu whatsoever till now as I easily suffer from constipation. Mom makes me eat them later though, maybe after pantang.
  
• wear the pilis on my forehead ~~ I only wore it on three days during this confinement. Why aah I’m so lazy??
  
• rub the param on my abdomen just before wrapping myself with the bengkung (or corset). According to my mom, it is best to wear the bengkung for a good 100 days but I stopped at day 60 -can’t stand the hotness and sometimes itchiness. But this time around, I hope to have more willpower and complete that challenge of 100 days of bengkung-wearing! ~~ I do wear a special type of bengkung now since I went through C-sect but I can’t apply the param thing as it would sting around my incision area. Still planning to wear it for 100 days though, fingers crossed!
  
• bertungku every morning and evening ~~ Can’t do this, C-sect!
  
• no eating oily food as it’s fatty and stall the healing process of my stitches ~~ Ish susah lah ni. Since I’m cooking myself now, sometimes it’s easier to just goreng something!
  
• wear socks ALL the time ~~ I couldn’t wear any socks for the first 2 weeks as my feet were swollen beyond recognition! Now that they’ve shrunk to their normal size, I still can’t wear socks all the time since it’s too troublesome for me to do house chores, like going in and out of the bathroom.
  
• sleep in a semi-sitting position i.e. stack the pillows behind my back  so my body isn’t horizontal ~~ OK, this I could do, even till now.
  
• always keep the legs close together. NO mengangkang, bersila or fold the legs at anytime during the confinement! ~~ Hah, this doesn’t apply to me now, but the downside of C-sect is that your WHOLE body hurts when you move, not just down there!
  
• eat loads of food with black pepper, ginger and garlic in them. No eating food that are berangin or ‘sejuk’ ~~ Kinda hard for me to distinguish which food should or should not be consumed other than the usuals, so kekadang tu I tibai je. I’m guilty of having eaten bananas (gasp), macaroons (ayoo, so rich in egg-whites!) and even eggs (pengsan)
  
• drink plenty of warm water, so obviously, cold and bicarbonate drinks are out of the question ~~Oops, there have been occasions where I can’t tahan myself (tulah pantang sorang2) and I did drink some cold or bicarbonated drinks (not at the same time, though)
  

“I also showered with some herbs and wash my precious with air rebusan akar kayu for a few days to top it all off” ~~ Nope, not this time.

“And at the end of my confinement, I went to a proper tukang urut where the old lady did the sengkak thing” ~~ Nope, no can do. As long as I feel my abdomen’s still wobbly inside, there will be no touchy!

So there you have it. My less than ideal pantang regime.  I know that some women can’t be bothered with all this and may have that “minah2 salih tu tak pantang, OK je” attitude. But I’m pretty old-fashioned. I’ve always been a fan of traditions and as long as those practices aren’t against Islam, there’s no harm in following eh?

Oh yes, THAT.

Tasha’s got a new baby brother! His name is Rayyan, which in Arabic has several meanings -satisfaction, luxuriant and one of the names of the gates of heaven. He was born at APSH, just like his sister, on 14.04.11 at 5.24pm.

Initially, I was expected to deliver normally as I did with Tasha. In fact, I was also set to do it drug-free like the first time.. but we can only plan, right? On labour day, which began as a usual weekly checkup for me, the doctor suggested that there might be a sign of fetal distress and since I haven’t gotten pregnant in a while (more like 6 years), she didn’t recommend that I wait any longer -though at this time, my contractions were already consistent and getting stronger. She then left us to discuss privately. As much as I could hold on to the pain and wanted to give birth normally, I wasn’t about to risk anything for my baby. So in 5 minutes, we both agreed to have an emergency C-section. My eyes watered when Hubby signed the relevant form, I don’t really know why. Maybe because I’ve never had any surgery before, or maybe because Hubby wasn’t allowed to be with me during the procedure, or maybe because the thought of being on GA terrified the hell out of me.. what if I don’t wake up? What if there are further complications, ‘cos I once read that general anesthesia carries more risks than local (it was only much later that I realized the real, practical reason of me wanting to shed tears -the cost of the operation was a bomb!)

As the nurses scurried away getting everything ready while I was being pushed in and out of the elevator (they weren’t kidding when they say it’s an emergency!), I tried to remain calm, which proved to be quite difficult since my contractions and heart beat were dancing hard simultaneously. In the OR, I remembered vividly how it felt so much scarier and looked less glamorous compared to the scenes in Grey’s Anatomy. I remembered being asked to sign something seconds before dozing off. The next thing I remembered, I felt itchy in the throat and, almost instantly, felt this throbbing pain in my abdomen. I thought I was contracting again and asked the nurse when will it be over. They smiled and said “Dah lama habis kak. Dah sejam dah”. Wow, I truly was heavily sedated, hehe.

Back in my ward, Hubby awaited me with a smile and since I was still ‘high’ on drugs, he said I rambled  nonsensically for the next few minutes -“have u seen our son?”.. “it’s still a boy, right?”.. “is the baby alright?”.. “jari2 dia cukup tak?”..”jari2 dia lawa tak?”.. OH-kay, enough of crazy me.

So that’s basically the story of how our son was born. Nothing out of the ordinary, though personally, I think every delivery is a miracle in itself. But I have to say, having given birth both vaginally and C-section, I think the latter is slightly more painful. At least when it comes to taking care of myself during confinement. Think I’ll write more on that in another entry, hehe..

Welcome to the world, Rayyan!

Today, I’ll be sharing with you what I enjoy doing that is part of my daily routine. But I gotta warn you – it’s going to be one helluva boring post! Mainly because (1) I’m a relatively boring person who tends to do the same things everyday and (2) given that I teach for a living, there are very few dramas at my workplace. Even if there were, they’d be typical ones relating to my students and that is not something I’d like to divulge this early in the morning. So I’ve decided to talk about something that is outside of work, which I kinda enjoy doing though not particularly that good at.

Like most working moms who juggle between their careers and taking care of the family, I too find it challenging at times to meet work requirements and at the same time prepare dinner, monitor my daughter’s school work, feed her (she doesn’t like to eat much) and do the rest of the household chores, not to mention, to fulfill my wifely responsibilities. While I do enjoy that last bit, hehe, it can get pretty exhausting and difficult to look and smell my best for my husband at the end of the evening when he gets back home from work. So I try to ‘cover’ that inadequacy in most days by making him happy in some other aspect, that is, food.

You know what they say, the best way to a man’s heart is through his tummy? I totally believe in that almost immediately after getting married. When I was single, I hated the mere mention of cooking. It was like an allergy to me to the extent that I would actually itch and scratch myself whenever an aunt (it’ll always be an aunt of whatever distance) motioned for me to stand at one corner and cut something. The more I pondered, I think I was more afraid of cooking than hated it. For various reasons -one, I couldn’t differentiate between ‘halia’, ‘lengkuas’ and ‘kunyit hidup’ (among other things) so I was afraid of making a fool of myself at the supermarket or in front of future MIL; two, the thought of menyiang ikan or cutting and cleaning other eatable animals scares me; three, the preparation of all the ingredients I hear takes much, much more time than the actual cooking itself; four, I wasn’t really brought up in an environment where moms have to cook; and five, why should I cook when there are loads of nice and cheap places to eat outside??

But love does things to you.

I never thought I’d be one to acknowledge, let alone, experience that corny line, but it did. Fate has it that the love of my life has a full-time homemaker for a mother who is not only great in the kitchen but in maintaining the rest of the household. It is normal to see her get up earlier than everyone else to prepare breakfast, put the laundry in the washer,  organize the drained dishes, iron and hang the clothes etc. I find it amazing that there will always be food on the table, if not, on the stove for her hungry children and grandchildren. The cooking process is almost non-stop. After breakfast, she’ll rest (though not technically resting ‘cos this is when she cleans the house, hangs the laundry on the pegs, sweeps the lawn etc) for 2-3 hours before starting lunch. The process must start early as the kids would usually go hungry by 1pm and my MIL would not have less than three dishes prepared. After clearing the table, she’ll ‘rest’ again for a couple of hours before dashing into the kitchen for tea. My MIL makes delicious traditional kuihs, but due to old age, she now prepares simple things like cekodok, pisang goreng, ubi or keropok instead. Then it’s a mere half hour of ‘rest’ before preparing for dinner, which is just like the lunch process, only more elaborate.

I was exposed to this ‘culture shock’ when I spent my confinement at my MIL’s place for two months. That was when I truly realized how hard being a housewife really is. At least with us working moms, we get a paycheck at the end of the month to treat ourselves for all of our hard work but for these moms, their rewards are intangible. You won’t see any cash flow coming into their bank accounts, no bonuses even after longer hours of work and definitely no sick days to get off work! My perception towards home-making (and all the cooking that it entails) changed after that. I was still afraid of cooking but if that’s what it takes to make my husband happy, then I’m sure gonna try. I made a silent resolution then to start cooking more for my family. Though nothing fancy and it’d only be dinner on weekdays, I vowed to cook no matter how tired or annoyed I was with my day job that morning.

It was hard at first but with time (five years to be exact and loads of encouragement from Hubby), I think I’m doing OK now. It also helps to have a comfortable kitchen, good lighting and air ventilation as well as good cooking utensils around to make your life easier. Since we have quite a small kitchen, I’m pretty happy that we had renovated the space to make it (slightly) bigger. Now I’m able to have an island to land my groceries before sorting them out and double it up as a breakfast table for the morning rush. I’m also looking forward to my longer ‘preparation’ worktop. Hubby has also promised to install an oven so that I can start baking again (we always had baked food when we stayed at Great Malvern last year).

Yeah, that is what I enjoy and look forward to at the end of the day. Apart from the obvious hugs and kisses from my daughter and Hubby, it is the looks on their faces while eating what I had prepared and maybe even their growling tummies when they sit down to have our family meal, is what makes it all worthwhile.

As for me, like most children who look up to their parents, I tend to want to be what my parents were at the time. So I always wrote ‘kerani’ after my mom’s job at the school where I was attending because I didn’t really know or understood what it was that my dad was doing. Upon submission to the teacher, she would go through the answers and nod approvingly at each student’s ambition but when it came to my form, or small booklet, the teacher would look slightly surprised and glanced at me with a teeny bit of sympathy. Perhaps she was asking herself, “Is this the poor girl’s highest goal in life?” or “Does she really know what a clerk is?” or “Alah kesiannye..”. My gut feeling years down the road strongly thinks it is the last one. It was no surprise that after every parent-teacher meeting, my dad will talk to me about my progress (which was usually alright and at most times, above average) and ends our talk with “Akak tak nak kerja lain ke?”  Being the naive kid that I was, I never fully understood his question. After all, what was wrong with being a clerk? My mom was a clerk.. and so were many of the aunties in the school and in our family. Of course, at the time, I didn’t realize that it was only natural for parents to want their kids to have a much better occupation, and hence, life than them. Even if it was only a small deal like writing their ambition on a piece of paper.

Over the years, I modified my ambition from wanting to be a teacher (see above reason as being a convenient answer), a lawyer, an accountant and back to being a teacher again. Thing is, I didn’t really know what I wanted to be when I grow up. I was OK with numbers but not so much till I want to live with it for the rest of my life, I enjoyed science but the thought of blood and creepy crawlies totally put me off anything related to the science department. I was never good at drawing or in anything creative/artistic, I like to sing but being ‘alright’ doesn’t really guarantee a singing career (besides, you have to be gorgeous to make it in the entertainment biz). I hated and sucked at sports.. I just liked to stay indoors and curl up with a nice storybook. And as geeky as it sounds, I do enjoy taking notes, highlighting important details and when the Internet became popular, I liked to surf for information. Any information. So by the time I was doing my A-Level, I had an idea of what I wanted to do as a working adult -to sit in my own room, facing a computer and with loads of books or reading materials on my large desk at the side. I didn’t know what kind of job it is but the vision was that in my head. Unfortunately, a few years later fate had it that I was majoring in Accountancy for my first degree. I wasn’t doing that bad in my subjects, but deep down I knew that this wasn’t the job that I had envisioned in mind. But I kept on going with my studies just because I was a sponsored student and knew that if I backed out now, my dad will be so disappointed (i.e. he’ll kill me).

Luckily, I did graduate and obtained a pretty good CGPA at that.. and since I finished my studies half a year earlier than my peers, I had slightly lesser competition if I wanted to apply to one of the big 5 accounting firms. Right then, I had a chocie to make -to proceed in accounting or do something totally different. At 23, it sounded pretty risky. I struggled with my own thoughts for days, ignoring my dad who was pestering me to apply for a job asap. One day, I finally mustered all my courage and sat down with him. I told him I didn’t want to be an accountant, that I’ve always found it boring, that the past three years was only enjoyable as it was theoretical but I don’t think it’ll be as enjoyable if applied in real life and that I was sorry for letting him down.

Naturally, he was in shock but he didn’t say much. He kept quite for a long time (that really spooked me out!) until he finally asked me, “Then what do you want to do now?” I know he’d be disappointed even more but I had to let it out and told him that I wasn’t sure. All I know is that I can’t see myself being an accountant for the rest of my life. Then he injected, “You could always teach it to others when you want to retire from the practical world.” That’s when it hit me. It wasn’t just being an accountant that put me off.. it was also accounting, the subject itself. I know I could do it but I don’t think I have the heart, or will, to do it. And suddenly, the thought of teaching to others brought in floods of memories of me in primary school. How I scribbled that occupation in the form (or small booklet) and made my dad feel better that I had upgraded from wanting to be a clerk.

In the next couple of days, I thought deeper. Yeah, why not teach? I know there’s this nasty saying of “Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach.” But seriously, whoever came up with that had no idea that in the real world, there are people who can do but wishes not to! I sat down with my dad again and told him that I’d like to be a teacher. I think it’s a noble occupation and that I’d like to share my knowledge with others. Surprisingly, my dad agreed but gave me a condition. “If you want to teach, better go a step higher. Teach at the university.”

The rest, they say, is history. After our talk, I drew my career chart all over again. I knew I had to have a Masters before I can qualify to be a lecturer, and of course, being a lecturer isn’t enough without the desire of wanting to do research, so I knew that I had to a PhD too one day. And since I know that accounting was my ‘allergy’, I had to focus on something else, something that I (thought I) excelled better at in my college days.. and so, I chose economics. I had no strong foundations of economics then, just simple basics that I learnt in A-Level and one elective that I took in university. But I willed myself to learn it and somehow, my heart never felt so sure. It’s funny really, being sure of something so uncertain. Almost like a paradox.

So there you have it. A brief account of how I ended up doing what I’m doing today. Of course, the third writing challenge is to actually share with you guys the thing that I struggle with -as in, a present tense. But to be honest, I do struggle, everyday, to be a better lecturer. It is different teaching university kids from younger children. For one, they talk back. Two, some are not afraid to make, or attempt to make, you look stupid in front of the class. So I always have to be prepared, to know my thing, when I teach them. I believe the university is not only a place to gain knowledge but also for one to ‘train’ themselves be better persons -a place where one can prepare themselves for the working world. So I make it a point for my students to be independent in learning, to minimize spoon-feeding (though admittedly, it can be difficult especially in our country where the kids are used to having things fed to them) and above all, I hope to encourage them to have an opinion and to take responsibility for their actions. Not necessarily in academics but in other daily things like coming to class on time, submitting assignments right on the deadline or giving valid excuses when they miss class. I think these things are challenging because at times, even adults forget to be responsible. As for being a researcher, ho-boy, I honestly have not been making any new research since I completed my studies. And now that I’m expecting, it has also slowed me down a bit emotionally and physically. Hopefully I’ll be able to do something fruitful during my 90 days of confinement.

After all, life is a struggle in itself, isn’t it?

Like most people, I have done quite a lot of dumb things in life but last year’s mishap, was by far, my worst ever! Since I’ve already blogged about it and I have no intention of evoking my idiocy, I’ll just let those who are interested to know more about it to go here. Hmph.

Now let’s see, I don’t think I regretted not doing anything else last year. Does that mean I’m disqualified from this challenge? Already?? Hehe.

OK, I’m almost a week behind schedule in the challenge, but hey, better late than not starting at all, right? So here goes. The first day’s challenge is to write about something that I’m looking forward to this year. Wow, there are just loads! From the top of my head: living in our newly revamped house, buying furniture and other stuffs to make the place more homey, welcoming our second baby into the world, sending more of my earlier works for publication and taking a short break from work (when I undergo my confinement) for 90 days (yeay!!).. So, which one will I talk about? I think I’ll rule out anything to do with our home project ‘cos that’s about the only thing I’ve been yakking about in the last 2-3 posts. And no talking about work too -how boring is that? So that leaves baby talk and my confinement. Hmm, think I’ll choose the latter. Heh.

I’ve only been pregnant once before and that was over five years ago, so my memories of being in confinement are kinda blurry. But I can tell you this: the first few days was a sore in the a$$, literally, and it took a lot of my might to get over the aches and pains (I was in labour for almost 15 hours with no epidural), headaches, lack of sleep, post-natal blues etc that came along with our new bundle of joy . You know what they say about when you look at your new baby, all the pain goes away? That’s utter rubbish. Hehe, but only for the first few days lah.. When the horrid pains subside and I’m left with the more ‘bearable’ ones, the saying is indeed true

I was fortunate to have stayed with my MIL, who is a full-time homemaker, during my confinement. Every morning before breakfast and evening before Maghrib, she would come to my room and lumur me with oil and give me a nice all-over-body rub. Though she wasn’t much of a masseuse, the simple massages really made my body better as the heat from the oil absorbs into my expanded veins (yes, pushing does take a toll on your body!). I think she did that for a couple of weeks, or was it for 45 days.. I can’t remember, but it was great.

My own mom, a true Javanese lady, made me follow her simpler version of confinement during the entire 45 days. Here’s a list:

• eat 3-4 types of jamu daily -thank goodness they come in tablets now. I can’t imagine downing ‘em as liquid!
  
• wear the pilis on my forehead. This is said to lessen the headaches and avoid new mommies from having blurry visions. I’m not sure whether it helps me on the second part as I’m already wearing glasses
• rub the param on my abdomen just before wrapping myself with the bengkung (or corset). According to my mom, it is best to wear the bengkung for a good 100 days but I stopped at day 60 -can’t stand the hotness and sometimes itchiness. But this time around, I hope to have more willpower and complete that challenge of 100 days of bengkung-wearing!
• bertungku every morning and evening. I didn’t do this the traditional way though ‘cos I didn’t have the batu tungku, but my MIL lent me her daughters’ spotlight so it works about the same way.
• no eating oily food as it’s fatty and stall the healing process of my stitches
• wear socks ALL the time
• sleep in a semi-sitting position i.e. stack the pillows behind my back  so my body isn’t horizontal. OK, I wasn’t completely sure the reason for this exercise, but hey, she still looks great and healthy at 60, so why not just follow eh? Related to this, my Hubby is required to sleep separately from me. Hehe. Obviously, we skipped this one. We still slept in the same room of course, who else is gonna help me when the baby cries at night??
• always keep the legs close together. NO mengangkang, bersila or fold the legs at anytime during the confinement! This is super crucial as it avoids us getting icky spider veins. If that doesn’t bother you, then just picture this: you’ve already spent all your might pushing a humongous watermelon out of your precious, the least you can do afterward is keep everything down there tucked close together, no?
• eat loads of food with black pepper, ginger and garlic in them. No eating food that are berangin or ‘sejuk‘.
• drink plenty of warm water, so obviously, cold and bicarbonate drinks are out of the question.

I also showered with some herbs and wash my precious with air rebusan akar kayu for a few days to top it all off. And at the end of my confinement, I went to a proper tukang urut where the old lady did the sengkak thing. That’s where she massages your V area and pushes up your rahim, a natural way of birth control, they say. All I know is that it hurts as hell ‘cos she pushed extra hard due to the position of my rahim that is, er, low and according to her easy to conceive!

So there you go, a long blab about my past confinement and very likely, what I’ll be going through again in a few more months. I know it may sound awful but really, it’s all for a good cause. Think of it as an investment for our body and health for old age. Hopefully, I’m more mature (physically and mentally) this time around and can embrace the whole process good-naturedly.

The pergola contractor (which is a brother to Hubby’s colleague) came as early as 8 am to drop off his five workers. By the time we arrived at the house, he had already left. I was initially quite wary as to the quality of work that the workers would accomplish as the ‘boss’ was not around but decided to give them a shot.

Apart from the pergola, we also had our doors installed and varnished. Being the ‘newbies’ that we are on home improvement, we didn’t realize how expensive it would be to have a wooden door varnished. The three uncles who did our five doors spent the whole day, literally, mengadap pintu tu je. I hope they stopped to have lunch, but I wasn’t too sure as we left for lunch. Anyway, they varnished each door six times and in between each varnish, they will sandpaper the doors. It’s no wonder that the whole process costs a little bit more than expected.

At the same time, we had our existing workers finishing up our porch. Two of them did some work inside, like covering the spaces in between our stairs and tidying up the plasters. Altogether we had 12 workers doing different things around the house. They worked almost non-stop, even during the afternoon when it was so scorching hot. I treated them ice-cream in the late afternoon seeing that it was really hot, plus, it was a public holiday.

At the end of the day, we were very happy with the end results. The doors looked great -I never knew that six coats of varnish (and sand paper in between) was what it takes to make a solid wooden door, which is originally pale in colour to actually look like a real dark brown, wooden door. The pergola was my favourite part. Though I had my doubts about the workmanship at the beginning, the workers proved me wrong. When the pergola contractor came back later, he oversaw what his workers did and made some teeny adjustments here and there. After they shellacked the Balau and sprayed the silver lining in between the shingles and wood with brown rustic colour, the pergola did, in fact, look great!

I’m going back there tomorrow to clear the stuffs under the stairs. I know I’ll be smiling in my sleep tonight. *Yawn*

Anyway, one of the things that had to be taken care of was the curtains and seeing that we have a new home and all, I have decided against buying ready-made ones from Jusco like I used to (yea yea, I’m getting in touch with my snob side).

One thing that I learnt from this whole curtain-seeking business is that, curtains are expensive. Like, really expensive! Being the lazy-bone that I am, I hate the thought of measuring the dimensions of our new windows, going to Tangkak or Nilai 3 to hunt for cheap (or so they say) fabrics and then sending them off to some makcik or cousins for upah jahit. I know I may be able to save some big bucks by doing all that but seriously, who has the time now? I am up to here (hand under my nose) in waiting to move back into my newly revamped home, plus, there are loads of other tidbits to look after so I really can’t be bothered to do all that.. and that is why I’ve decided to join  the bandwagon and go to a “one stop” home deco center to handle the curtains for my house.

We went to SSF and booked for our window measurements and pictures to be taken. The worker came two days later -took the necessary shots, made the measurements and gave some suggestions as to which types of curtains can be done for each room. This afternoon we went back to the showroom and discussed in more detail with the consultant on the specifics i.e. the (OMG banyaknye jenis!!) type of curtains i.e. double or single railing, rod or no rod, classic pleat or not, Roman blinds etc, the type of fabric for each curtain and the colours that go with each room theme. We spent hours walking all over the showroom to browse at the selection of fabrics, mixed and matched here and there and made her give us alternative quotations for different designs and fabrics to suit our budget. Suffice to say, we ended up paying a lot more than we budgeted for but we’re pretty happy with the choices of curtains and their services so far. After all this, I really have a new found respect for people who take their time to beautifying their homes. I think I’m beginning to understand that adage “home is where the art is”. Heh.