Candid Honesty

When I started this blog, I wanted to be private, I wanted to stay in my own cocoon and not get to know or meet people, I wanted to be brief and yet somewhat impersonal in my updates (because you never know who's reading your blog), and the main reason for the blog is; to keep track of Gib's health progress.

As time goes by, I realised you can't write about your child and not pour your heart out because as the quote goes;

"Having a child is like having your heart walking around outside your body".

How true is that?

So one day maybe Gib will read his blog. Maybe not. Who knows. But this will be my testiment on raising him.

Many things and events have happened this past week which I have not blogged about because of life's continuous demands.

There were the family birthdays and get-togethers...

... H's Mak Su treated us to an awesome Japanese buffet at Solaris Mont Kiara on 4th April and it was great to meet up with the aunties and uncles after such a long absence-of-reasons (no festive season as an excuse to meet up!). Thanks Mak Su for a memorable night out :)

... We celebrated SIL#2's birthday on 7th April with a small do at H's family home with a fantastic dinner from Puccini Swedish Restaurant near Uptown Dsara (their calzone is awesome!) and it was great to have a family get-together after being so caught up with daily routines and training of the new maid and much other suffocating-yet-necessary daily happenings.

... And yesterday (12th April), my family and BIL's family got together to celebrate my parents' first grandchild's birthday. Shazwan is now an official teenager, turning 13 today (13th April). As he enveloped me in his bear-like arms as I wished him happy birthday this morning, I nearly shed tears at the thought of the little infant whom I used to spend hours babysitting, for whom I felt for the first time (I was 16 years old then when sister had him) the feeling of having a heart filled with unconditional love for some other being other than my parents.. now he is taller and much heavier than me, and I felt small in his arms. Goodness, how time passes and we are slowly growing old.

... And through it all, Gibran has proven that he is quite a social butterfly who loves to have people around and would happily leave his Mummy and Baba behind to go play with his uncles / aunties / cousins ;)

... And alas, too busy keeping an eye on the new maid (and making sure she doesnt screw things up), I didn't manage to get good pictures and so proved once again that I am definitely not a professional blogger. Heh.

There are also things I didn't blog regarding the maid...

... I find that it doesn't bother me when maids don't clean house so well. It is when they cannot take care of my child well that I feel like chucking them out into the longkangs. Hehhhh. So..

... In the past 2 weeks I have blown my top more times than I can remember because of all things Gibran-related, and not household-chores-related.

... Gibran now has a scar on his tummy from where the maid had clumsily clipped his high-chair seat buckle onto his tummy skin instead. Yes. Causing some skin to come off your toddler's tummy can cause you to lose your top quite a bit.

... After teaching her more than 10 times on how to mix Gib's milk (even going to the extend of writing the formula down for her in a notebook as well as on the milk can), she still did it wrongly (a mistake done repeatedly, mind you) and the clincher was when on Saturday, she mixed Sarah's milk (my ten year old niece) into Gib's milk cup while I was keeping an eye on Gib outside, and would've given it to him had my family's old Bibik not spot the mistake and freaked-out.

... Thus further proving that I should never leave Gibran alone with the maid without reliable supervision, and making me lose my top yet again, and ponder about chucking the maid into the longkang for real. Heh. Yes I am kidding about the last part but trust me I did imagine it nicely in my head for a while there.

... And nope, even after all the mistakes the maid made, I don't hate her and I still dread the thought of sending her back to the agent (other than the fact that I have to re-train yet another maid) is because of one main reason..

Gibran likes her and is comfortable with her. He doesn't mind sitting with her for long periods of time and he is choosy about people that he likes hanging out with. And I must admit that she handles him well (chats with him, listens to him, plays patiently).

There it is, our week in an abstract form. And as honest as I could lay it out too. Thanks, Maverix, for understanding my need for honesty from the heart.

And the dilemma, the daily routines, the certain sucky parts of life still goes on. Because c'est la vie. Because the good parts are always worth living for. Right?

Thanks for still reading, if you still are, that is. Hehhh.