Menopause

Twenty or thirty years ago the topic of menopause was not brought up and even in this day and age many women view menopause as an end to life as she knows it. When girls are taught sex education in school menopause is rarely mentioned as if it is some dirty little secret. Menopause does not have to be an end to life, but rather, it can be seen as the beginning of a new stage of your life with more freedom than ever before if you face it with a positive outlook. For once you have reached menopause you no longer have to worry about messy periods or unwanted pregnancies, on the upside, but on the downside you become a dried out old prune with loss of libido, greying and falling hair, week brittle bones and in the beginning stages, mood swings which have your family hiding in dread. After going through menopause myself it brings to mind a joke I once read, “Why do they call it menopause?” “Because mad cow disease was already taken.”

Menopause is the time in a woman’s life when her reproductive years come to an end with the average woman going through menopause around the age of fifty one. As menopause nears, the ovaries produce less estrogens and the first sign is a change in your menstrual cycle. You can experience a heavier or lighter flow, bleeding can last for shorter or longer periods of time or skipping one or more periods. At some point the ovaries slow in the production of estrogens and this causes periods to stop. Lower amounts of estrogens will cause changes in the body over time as well, such as overall weight gain, unwanted facial hair and a pot belly that would make Santa envious. Menopause is different for every woman; some will notice little change while some may find it difficult to cope and will want to kill anything that crosses her path.

The most common symptom of menopause is hot flashes. Around seventy five percent women experience them. They can occur at any time day or night. They can be mild or severe and can come several times a month or several times a day. They can disrupt sleep patterns, making it difficult to fall asleep or finding yourself waking in the wee hours of the morning drenched in sweat. While other people around you may be freezing you will be hot and sweaty and find yourself wearing shorts and singlet in the middle of winter. Once the flash has passed you will start to freeze with the rest and pile on layers of clothing. You may find yourself changing clothes several times a day. Lack of sleep may become one of the biggest problems during this time, it’s no wonder many women become grouchy.

Changes in the vagina also take place as the lining becomes thin and dry causing painful intercourse. The vaginal area will also be more prone to infection. Urinary tract infection is also common and women who have gone through menopause may be more susceptible. Bone loss is normal but the rate of bone loss increases after menopause which can result in osteoporosis. Bones of the hip, wrist and spine are affected the most and with increasing bone loss the risk of breaking bones is higher. With fewer estrogens produced women are also more prone to heart attack and stroke.

Menopause can be an emotional time for some women and many suffer from mood swings and feelings of stress. Some women will have less interest in sex during this time as lower oestrogen levels decrease sex drive and cause vaginal dryness. Some on the other hand are not affected sexually at all. Lubricants can be used to help remedy dryness. Orgasm can be difficult to achieve or may take longer than previously.

In order to stay healthy during menopause eating a well balance diet is important. Eat a low fat, low cholesterol diet. Fat intake should be only thirty percent of your daily calorie intake. Calcium rich foods should be included to maintain strong bones. Women aged fifty one and older who, are not taking hormone replacement, need at least one thousand five hundred mg per day. Women who are using hormone replacement therapy need one thousand mg per day. As your body can only absorb five hundred mg at a time calcium supplements should be taken in two doses. Calcium rich foods are yogurt, cheese, other dairy products, oyster, sardines, and canned salmon and dark green leafy vegetables. Calcium cannot be absorbed without vitamin D. Milk fortified with vitamin D is one of the best sources. Getting adequate sunlight will help or you can take vitamin D supplements. Recommended daily requirement is ten micrograms per day for women aged fifty one or older. Eat fruit and vegetables and whole grain cereals high in vitamin C and carotene such as grapefruit, oranges, carrots, winter squash, tomatoes, broccoli and cauliflower. These are a good source of vitamins, minerals and dietary fibre. Avoid salt, salt cured and smoked foods such as sausages, smoked fish, ham, bacon, bologna and hot dogs. High salt intake can lead to high blood pressure. Avoid food and drinks with processed sugar as they contain empty calories and add excess weight.

Exercise is important as you get older. Regular exercise slows down bone loss and improves heart health as well as overall health and mood. A woman who is sedentary may suffer from heart disease, high blood pressure, diabetes, obesity and osteoporosis as well as back pain, stiffness, insomnia, weak muscle, shortness of breath and depression can set in. Walking, jogging, aerobics, swimming, biking and dance are all good exercise for the menopausal woman. Staying active helps to improve your outlook on life.

Hormone Replacement therapy can be useful when you are going through the change, according to some doctors; others claim that clinical trials have shown that HRT causes cancer. With this in mind many drug companies have come out with herbal remedies to combat the symptoms of menopause. The decision to use HRT should be discussed with your doctor but in my opinion HRT only delays the inevitable. We all grow old and as Joan Rivers once joked, “The secret to anti-aging is to die young.”

The Older Woman

You see it all the time, the fat, balding, aging man dating or having an affair with a twenty something year old girl. Yes at that age they are still girls who are frivolous and haven’t really lived much of their life. They are full of insecurities and need constant reaffirmation that you love them and that they are beautiful. The woman in her twenties does not fully trust her man and is forever questioning his were abouts and what he’s been up to. She’ll never trust that you’ve been hanging out with your buddies having a few drinks and shooting the shit. Sure you look at other girls, surreptitiously, when you are with her and openly ogle them when you’re with your friends, after all it’s a guy thing that a twenty something year old girl will never understand. In her mind you have her so why do you need to look at another hot chick.

A woman over thirty is a different kettle of fish all together. We’re psychic, we know you look at other women and we also know what you’ve been up to. We can see it in your face every time. You’ll never have to tell us about your multitude of indiscressions and we wouldn’t hesitate to shoot you if we could get away with it, but since we can’t we have other ways of making you pay. We can praise you lavishly even when it’s not deserved or we can tear you to the ground. We know what it’s like to be unappreciated. We don’t lay awake at night and wonder what you’re thinking about because frankly speaking we don’t give a crap. We know there isn’t much going on in that mind of yours and we’d rather get our sleep anyway. If you want to watch sports or play your games, go ahead we won’t bitch about it, we can find something else to do that is much more rewarding and fulfilling.

We don’t care what you think about us or what we are doing. We are self assured enough to know what we want and when we want it. We don’t need your reassurance. Even if we don’t trust you we will still introduce you to our girlfriends because we know they will not betray us. Dining out with us is pleasant because we won’t start a brawl with you in the middle of a restaurant. We’re dignified and wise enough to know that the silent treatment cuts deeper. Women over thirty are more honest and will surely tell you what an ass you’ve been if need be. We don’t pull punches and we can take as good as we give without breaking down in tears. Women over the age of thirty are sexier. By this time we have reached our sexual peak, we know what we want in bed and we know what you want. We don’t need to fake orgasm and if it wasn’t enjoyable we’ll let you know. We want to be pleasured as much as you want to be please.

If you decide you want to go out with your friends for a little male bonding, please do. We won’t stop you or whine about it or insist on going with you because we know that the saying “absence makes the heart grow fonder” is true as does “familiarity breeds contempt”. The same goes for” out of sight out of mind” because we surely do not sit and think about you every minute of the day. We need our space as much as you need yours and we don’t want you breathing down our necks all the time.

Into Each Life

Into each life a little rain must fall. Of course we know that this little saying means that no one’s life is ever smooth sailing. During our lifetime we all have our ups and downs, there are the good times and there are bad times and so we all must suffer through the bad before we can enjoy the good. Unfortunately my life is full of more bad then good.

Take for instance my car. Grant you the car is old but I cannot afford to replace it just yet, hopefully in a year or so but not now. Last week while driving home my car started to make a high pitched squealing noise and since that was a Friday night I figured I’d take it into the shop the next day, a Saturday. When I first heard the noise I thought it was someone else’s car but as I pulled away from the toll the noise was not getting lower but remained the same. I turned off the radio to listen more carefully and sure enough it was my car damn it! After driving a few hundred yards the noise stopped but almost halfway home it started again. I knew then that I had better have it checked.

The next day I got my car into the shop early and after checking the mechanic told me it was the alternator belt. It took them an hour and a half to change the damn thing and once they were done I noticed the mechanics talking to each other and pointing at my engine. To me this is not a good thing so when one of the mechanics approached me I knew that something else was wrong. Sure enough the mechanic informed me that the alternator was crooked and he couldn’t straighten it, there was a screw missing and a metal cylinder which should be part of the alternator was missing. I had changed it a little over a year ago and had not had any problems and now the mechanic was telling me it needed changing again. The last time I had changed it I had gotten a second-hand one and was charged $280.00 and there was only a five month warranty. This repair had been done at another shop at which I suspected the mechanic there was ripping me off. Not surprising he was, when I asked this mechanic how much to replace it he said $118.00 for a brand new one. Once my car was done the mechanic told me that my car was leaking oil and also asked when was the last time I changed my timing belt. He told me I needed to wash my engine before he could check where the leak was coming from. I didn’t think it was too bad so I told him I would wash it and bring it back in for him to check, as for my timing belt I had to check my shit load of previous bills to find out when it was last changed.

So this past Saturday I dutifully washed my engine and took it back. Half way there the damn car stalled and I had trouble starting it. Managed to get it to the shop and told the mechanic what had happened and that the timing belt was last changed in 2007 so that had to be changed as well. He looked around and then informed me I would have to leave it at the shop for a few days because they would have to take the engine apart to check. I guess you can’t expect much from a twelve year old car which has been pretty good up till now. I left it there and today it is ready. I just went to collect it and the bill came to a whopping $2000.00 for repairs. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream but all I could do was laugh, hysterically I might add. Thank god for credit cards. The engine looks like new engine, my clutch is loose the way it should be, they washed my car and polished the wheels and best of all they screwed up the rear fender which was about to drop off.

Yep into each life a little rain must fall, but in my life there always seems to be a typhoon. If it’s not teenager problems its car problems, nothing ever seems to go smoothly. No wonder I drink. A wise Chinese fortune teller once told me that according to the life lines on my hand I would have to work my whole life. A few years later the lines had changed and he told me that once I reached the age of fifty my life would be easier. This year I’ll be fifty two, I’m still waiting!

The Birds

They started building their nest at the beginning of February, just outside my front door, in the pie shaped ledge at the top of the cylindrically pillar which holds up my car porch. The pair worked diligently for about two weeks and then they disappeared. I thought they had decided not to nest there as a few years previously another pair of swallows had started to build a nest in the same spot only to abandon it half way through. The reason for the abandonment I’m not too sure about but I suspect it was due to the heavy traffic which goes through my front door on a daily basis, human, dogs and cats. Eventually the abandoned nest was taken down and all that was left was the mud stains on the newly painted corner.

They came back two weeks later. I spotted the mother sitting on the nest. Day in day out she sat there leaving it only temporarily to look for food. My cat had spotted her and made it her mission to piss off the bird on daily basis by jumping up on the wall that separates my house from my neighbours. The pair of them would make a hell of a lot of noise while diving at the cat. Whenever I heard them I would run outside and throw the cat off the wall and chase her away. I think the little birds realized that I was their ally and weren’t much afraid of me.

Another two weeks went by and I noticed a couple of egg shells lying in the driveway so I knew there had to be at least two baby chicks. A few weeks went by where I witnessed the mother and father coming and going with insects to feed the hatchlings. The cat of course still pestered them and of course I kept chasing her away. Towards the end of these two weeks I noticed little heads popping up every time food arrived and now as they grow larger and larger everyday a cacophony of chirping can be heard every time one of the parents come back to the nest with a nice juicy bug. I had first thought that there were only three but last week I notice a distinct fourth tiny head popping up much smaller than the rest. I figure it must be the runt.

The cat kept on terrorizing the parents and finally one day last week I got pissed and sprayed the cat with the hose. Since then I have not noticed her jumping on the wall but all it takes is for her to lie in the driveway to get the birds upset. The mother during these times will sit outside my door chirping loudly to get my attention. Once I chase the cat away all is quiet once again.
The birds should be leaving the nest pretty soon. They are quite large now, too large to hide in the nest. They sit in the nest with their tiny heads resting along the edge. In my mind I refer to them as eeny, meeny, miny and moe. They are constantly chirping although when danger is lurking I have observed the mother loudly chirping and her offspring will hunker down tightly together and keep ever so quiet until the coast is clear.

I love to stand just inside my door and observe the birds; it calms me and gives me peace of mind as well as makes me realize how wonderful and amazing life can be. Every now and then I have a chuckle at their little heads with down feathers standing on end and their overly large yellow beaks constantly open waiting for food to drop in from manna. I’ll be sad when they leave but that’s all a part of life’s cycle. My only worry now is when they start to fly; my fear is the damn cat will catch one of them in their ungainly flight. Hopefully I’ll be around to protect them.

The Hair Cut

I have always been pretty particular about my hair, not because I studied hairdressing at one time; I mainly put it down to my OD. Yes I am slightly obsessive about certain things and one of them is my hair. I must wash, dry and style my hair everyday and the only time that doesn’t happen is when I am too sick to get out of bed, and that does not happen. I cannot stand it when my hair gets too long and hangs in my eyes, the worst is when I wash and dry my hair in the morning, I want the style to last the whole day and when it doesn’t I get pissed. Once it gets too long nothing will keep that hair standing in the spiky style I like.

So the other day I realized my hair was getting too long as it was flopping all over the place. The morning I decided to cut my hair I washed it then headed over to my hair stylist. I go to the same hairdresser all the time as he speaks English. Over the years I have had some pretty hoarky hair cuts because after living in Malaysia for twenty eight years I still do not have a very good grasp of Hokkien or Malay. I know shame on me but this article is not about my lack of communicating skills. It has taken me years to find a hairdresser who cuts my hair the way I like it and speaks English so I can explain what I want.

Upon reaching the salon at almost eleven o’clock in the morning I saw that they weren’t open yet which pissed me off. After all I want to cut my hair; you’re supposed to be open at ten o’clock where the hell you are. Disappointed I go home again and wait. At twelve o’clock I go back and I am told by the kid who washes hair that Denis is not there yet and probably won’t be there until three o’clock. By now I am ready to blow a gasket because one of my quirks is that when I decide to do something I want to do it then and there and this sometimes gets me into trouble, but hey what can I say. So I decided to go to my son Justin’s hairstylist, the one he calls Hoaray (inside joke), when I go and fetch my youngest son Jordan, home from school.

I pick my son up and ask him if he can wait while I cut my hair, he’s thinking I’m going to my usual hairstylist which is close to home so he says he’ll walk back from there. I inform him that I am going to Hoaray’s so he says he would like to sit with his friends, at the mamak stall I picked him up from and wait. Fine by me. I leave him there and drive off the hairdresser’s shop which is not far away. I get to the salon and Hoaray tells me he can cut my hair straight away. I have had my haircut by him before but stopped going to him because 1) he is irritating, insisting on cutting your hair the way he wants and 2) he doesn’t speak English. I sit in the chair and he gets on with it, He’s like Edward Scissor hands, he has a shaver in one hand and a comb in the other and the next thing I know hair is flying. As he cuts my hair we have a weird conversation, weird because I am speaking English and broken Hokkien and he is speaking broken English and Hokkien. Through the conversation I gather that he knows my son Justin, cuts his hair and says that my son looks like me oh and he also tells me he knows how I like my hair cut. Once he is done with the electric shaver he grabs the scissors and once again hair is flying all over the place and within ten minutes I am done. He asks the girl to rinse my hair and dry it. Once that is done he checks my hair and cuts a little more where it is uneven and once he is satisfied he applies gel and spikes my hair. I pay him and leave.

I arrive back at the mamak where my son is and honk. He comes running and climbs in the car. As he settles he looks at me and says “What the hell did you do to your hair!” “It’s shorter than mine.” My kids have potty mouth as my sister Angela would say, can’t blame them they learned from the best, me. I learned from my mother how to cuss but I have to admit that as my mother aged she cleaned up her act, probably because she hung around with a better class of people. As for me I still cuss. He’s right though my hair is short in fact it is as short as Justin’s. I think Hoaray was thinking about his hair style when he cut my hair. It’s ok though, it will grow and with the weather being so hot lately I feel so much cooler. The downside is I look like a man with boobs but hey at least it’s not a faux hawk!

Growing Old

As we grow older it is hoped that through experience we gain wisdom and are not doomed to repeat the mistakes of our past. When we make mistakes in our younger years we usually learn from those mistakes and move on but to make the same mistakes in our old age, we are considered old fools. Hopefully with our experiences we can steer our children in the right direction, unfortunately it’s not always the case, because the young are conceited enough to think they know everything and don’t need our advice. As I have grown older I have found that it is easier to let children fall on their faces and just be there to help pick them up, dust them off to start all over again.

The best things about growing old are many, such as being in a position to tell your kids I told you so with a smirk on your face. Growing old allows us to stop and smell the roses and pick a few, if no one is looking. If caught we can always claim insanity. We can now pursue our own interests without someone thinking we are silly or frivolous. We don’t care what anyone thinks. We are not interested in climbing up the career ladder, because by the time we hit our old age we are either there already, retired or do not care enough to climb the slippery slope anymore. We do not need to reflect on the past, as we know we cannot change it or second guess our selves because it’s too late anyways.

As we grow older we learn that money isn’t everything, unless you have no health insurance and need to be admitted to hospital. All we really need is the love and respect of our children. We do not need a lot of things or the latest gadgets. Half the time we don’t know how to use those new confounding gadgets anyway. All we need is a roof over our heads, food on the table and a pillow to rest our heads on at night. Hopefully we can sleep.

As we grow older we can say something one day and forget about it the next day, claiming we are suffering from premature Alzheimer’s. Whether you actually forgot is a moot point, you can always say you forgot rather than admit that you have simply changed your mind because you had been drunk when you had agreed to let your kid do something. You can keep on telling the same boring stories over and over again just to bug your kids. As we grow older we can stop sweating the small stuff, because we realize that life is too short to worry about it and we’ll just worry ourselves into an early grave.

Growing old allows us to have more me time, we don’t have to put others before ourselves anymore. We can say what we want, no matter how outrageous and get away with it because we are considered senile by the young anyways. We can dress to please ourselves and not have to care whether we look hot or not, because we have lost interest in men. We no longer need them or want them around because they are more needy then children and without men around we have more peace of mind.

If we are lucky enough we will have grandchildren. We can love them and spoil them in a way we would never have done to our children and once they start whining and crying, we can pass them pack to their parents. We can sit on the sidelines and watch as our children raise their children and make the same mistakes and listen to them as they bitch about how rotten their kids are and as we listen we can snidely think to ourselves “payback time!”

The Most Thankless Job

Parenting is the most thankless job in the world. Yes it is a job and your job scope changes on a daily basis. From the moment of conception you tell yourself that you will be a perfect mother. You go out and buy books to read up on parenting. Every ones parenting style differs, and you tell yourself you will never be like your mother. Then the bubble bursts when that squalling little thing is placed in your arms, you panic and wonder what the hell you have gotten yourself into. By time the next child comes, you find yourself building a bonfire using all those parenting books.

From the beginning your patience is tested on a daily basis and there are some days you think you might lose your sanity. From the incessant crying in the middle of the night to the toddler stage where you are defied every step of the way. A nice little tap on the butt is the only way to handle things and you’re the one who ends up crying. You spanked your child and feel really guilty. All through the years of development into the teenage years, the yelling the screaming the whining (all yours) is enough to have you running to the doctor for Prozac and one day you realise that, damn somewhere along the way you have turned into your mother. The temper tantrums in the grocery store have you hiding amongst the vegetables pretending it’s not your kid. Then one morning you wake up and look in the mirror and wonder who that wild eyed, wild haired woman is only to realize it’s you. You used to be such a sharp dresser and you had a career but now your attire of choice is mom jeans and your husband’s faded out shirts. Your career has gone down the crapper and turned into a life sentence. You begin to realize that this is the craziest job that you ever took on, no pay, no appreciation, long hours and it lasts a life time.

You muddle along hoping you have not caused irreparable damage to your kid, in fact you are the one who has been damaged, realising this as you find yourself lying on the floor in a foetal position blubbering to yourself and that man you fell in love with, well you’d just like to give him a good kick in the nuts. All your good intentions of yesteryear fade away and you hope your kid would hurry up and finish school and go to college, but wait, how are you going to pay for college? That bank account you opened for your kid, well you’ll be lucky if you save enough to buy text books for college, never mind tuition fees. Then one day the worst happens, that happy go lucky child you brought into the world has become a sullen teenager who slinks away to their room and becomes uncommunicative and everything you do is lame. They start using a language you don’t understand and the cell phone becomes an extension of their hand. You take your kid shopping for clothes because they insist they have nothing to wear and you realize that your kid’s jeans cost more than your whole outfit. Hell the price of your kid’s jeans is enough to feed a starving third world country for goodness sakes. Any real conversation with your kid during this time always starts with “I dunno, can you drive me to the mall?” When you have the audacity to say no it’s either an argument or a look and if looks could kill you’d surely keel over dead. There are days when after a round with your teenager they threatened to run away from home, you offer to pack their bags. Everyday there’s a minor war going on in the house. Either between you and your kid or your kid and their siblings and you have to wade in like a trooper to get things under control to make sure they don’t destroy the house or kill each other. Your peace and quiet is a thing of the past and you find yourself wishing they’d hurry up and grow up and move out of the house.

Then when things have quieted down you pour yourself a good stiff drink trying to get to the happy place, which you find yourself doing more often. You sit and ponder and wonder why the hell you didn’t opt to have sterilisation. After a while as the alcohol slowly takes hold you begin to think clearly and realize they will never, ever leave you.

Cleaning My Clothes Closet

One of the things I hate the most doing is cleaning out my clothes closet. It was supposed to have been done before the beginning of the Chinese New Year and of course it didn’t get done. Since I did not have to go and look after my baby granddaughter, Dallas, today I decided to take the bull by the horns and get it done. I figured I would need about two large garbage bags to load everything into and after I would take it to some recycling bin. I had four bags.

My closet was loaded with clothes I had worn to work and no longer wear because 1) I no longer work and 2) I have gained weight since I stopped working. I have gained at least fifteen pounds. Although I am not overweight the clothes in my closet are in much smaller sizes. I even had clothes inside which I brought with me to Malaysia twenty eight years ago. Hey they were expensive and over the years I did not have the heart to throw them out but today was the day, I was merciless.

Why I have a tendency to collect so many clothes over the years is beyond me. Most are not worn and just hang there taking up space. I have to admit that any clothes that are given to me by my children as gifts will hang in my closet for years even if I no longer wear them or even like them. To me any gift from my children is to be cherished. After all they buy me gifts out of love and to throw these things away is like not having any appreciation for the love they show you. My drawers were once full of drawings, cards and other little pieces of useless knick knacks bought for me by my children. A few years ago I finally managed to let go and throw most of them away as my drawers were becoming too full and so it is the same with my clothes closet, I had no more hangers left and the clothes I had bought for the Chinese New Year were haphazardly thrown over the baby’s crib that is in my room.

This morning after my shower I got down to it with gusto. Out went all the slacks and jeans that I could no longer pull over my enlarged ass. Blouses, sweater and shirts which could no longer be pulled or buttoned over my sagging belly went. Shorts and tank tops which were too small or so old that they looked like rags were thrown out. Dresses, skirts and a few Baju Kebya’s and Kurungs (Malay Traditional costumes) were all thrown out. Other useless junk was thrown out as well along with faded out bed sheets I no longer use. Everything went and by time I was finished I had so many hangers left, well I just don’t know what to do with them and my closet is now so empty I have nothing to wear.

That’s ok though at least there is space in my closet now and over the next few years or so I’m sure those hangers will become full once again. There will be plenty more birthdays, Christmas’s, Mother’s Days and Chinese New Years that will warrant the buying of new clothes. There will undoubtedly be many more shopping trips where I will buy new clothes and probably a few years down the road I will take a look in my clothes closet and discover there is another load of clothes that no longer fit my growing ass.

Family Portrait Day

This past Saturday we had another family photo day. Since Jade was home from Singapore and Alex’s dad was around we decided to get it done while everyone was home for the Chinese New Year. These days it’s pretty difficult to get everyone together. Dallas Rose, the princess of the two families, is growing and changing daily so it is important to get those pictures while we can.

The appointment with the photographer was for four thirty in the afternoon and Dawn informed us not to be late. (Hahahahaha)!!! My family, of course, can never be on time for anything, and true to form we were late, although I have to say this time around we were only about ten to fifteen minutes late. Alex’s dad was later then us. When Dawn and Alex got married the mother of the bride and family were one hour late. Frankly speaking it’s not me. I’m always ready on time and I’m the one that has to sit around sweating in the Malaysian heat waiting for everyone else to get ready. By the time my family is ready to go my makeup is running down my face. It’s a good thing that my eyes don’t sweat because my mascara would be running down my face pooling around my chin. Such is my family. So as usual I was ready on time yelling at everyone to hurry up. Justin decided to go for a haircut and because the hairdresser just only opened after the long Chinese New Year holiday there were a lot of people and he had to wait. Robyn and Jordan were ready on time and of course Jade, well it takes her an hour to put on makeup that gives her a natural look.

We arrived en mass at the photographers. This pictures colour scheme was white shirts and jeans. Even Dallas Rose had on a pair of jeans and a white t shirt. Alex’s dad, being from another era and generation, doesn’t own a pair of jeans, so he wore navy slacks and a white shirt. When we arrived the session had begun with Dallas sitting in a white flower pot with strawberries on her head. She was so adorable, smiling all the while for her pictures. Next she had purple flowers on her head, then she was in a cooking pot surrounded by vegetables wearing a chef’s hat and then the photo I have wanted most of all, Dallas wearing angel wings. After the single poses of Dallas the family got together and we proceeded with the family portraits, all of us with Dallas, then Alex and his dad with Dallas and then my family with Dallas. By time an hour had gone by Dallas was tired and cranky and didn’t want to smile anymore not to mention that we had gone over our time slot and another couple wanted their turn. They were having a closed session. The wife was pregnant with their first so I am assuming they maybe wanted some nude shots of the wife, who knows. Anyways the way I look at it we were there first so tough titty wait your turn. But no they asked us to come back. Oh well Dallas was tired anyways and as soon as she was put in her stroller she fell asleep. All the smiling makes for a sleepy baby.

By this time it was six pm so we decided to have dinner. We ended up in Dragon i probably one of the most expensive Chinese Food places around. After dinner we went back to the photo studio and finished our session. I wanted pictures taken of Dallas and only I and I also wanted a picture of my five lovely off spring. There has not been a picture taken of them all together since before their father died so now was the chance. So there they all posed, one in clown hair, one in witches hat and a boa, one in a court jesters hat and boa, one in a pirate hat and one in a fireman’s hat. My two sons were holding plastic props; Justin had an axe and Jordan had a sword and they proceeded to pose as if they were stabbing their sisters as well as other ridiculous poses. I finally got them to take off the crap and pose nicely and I hope there are a few nice pictures of my lovely children. Alex asked me to sit with the kids and have one done and so I did. I hope they turn out well but knowing my kids there will be one of me smiling happily while my children make funny faces at me behind my back.

Chinese New Year

Once again Chinese New Year is here. Today is the fifth day of the New Year but in actual fact this blog was supposed to have been posted a few days before the first day. As usual I got a little behind with my New Year preparations and found myself running around like a mad woman trying to clean the house, buy new clothes for the kids and I as well as the drinks and titbits. This year we got lucky as my son won five cases of beer from Heineken so I did not have to go on my yearly search for places selling beer at the lowest price. Chinese New Year just isn’t New Year without beer. On the first three days of Chinese New Year I am allowed to sit and sip beer all day long without the disapproving looks of my eldest son. I love beer unfortunately it has two nasty side effects, bloated belly and nasty beer farts. But enough about me and my love of beer time to get back to the topic at hand.

While Chinese New Year is not a traditional celebration for me it became a tradition when I married my husband and moved to Malaysia. Early Chinese New Year celebrations sucked big time but once I moved into my own home I began to enjoy it and look forward to it and so I find myself cleaning house every year, buying new clothes and preparing ang pao for family and visitors. In the old days Chinese woman would spend a few months baking traditional cookies and cakes for guest when came visiting, now with many woman working the traditional New Year goodies are store bought making everyone’s life easier.

Out with the old and in with the new is the philosophy behind Chinese New Year. Chinese New Year is celebrated around the world by the Chinese for fifteen days. In the old days small businesses and shops would shut their doors for the full fifteen days. Since the Chinese never took a break from work this was the time of year where they could relax, unwind, stuff themselves with food, visit friends and give and receive ang pao. Before ushering in the New Year the house must be cleaned from top to bottom, debts should be settled and new clothes are bought. Chinese families will travel enmass to the family home where they will partake of the traditional New Year’s Eve dinner which is a must. On the first day, if they have not spent the night, family members will pay their respects to the patriarch home where they will receive and give ang pao.

Chinese children, every year, look forward to Chinese New Year. Is it because of the reunion dinner with all the traditional savoury dishes served, the customary biscuits to be found in every Chinese house hold or the mandarin oranges given away for luck? Is it because of the new clothes that will be bought to wear during the New Year, no they look forward to receiving that little red packet known as “ang bao” or “ang pao”. This little red packet given every year contains money and is given away for luck. The more you give the more luck you gain and children visiting households of friends and family are sure to receive one.

According to tradition the packet should contain an even amount of money such as two dollars, four dollars, six dollars, ten dollars and so on. In a Chinese family “ang pao” is given to unmarried younger people by married people. If you are not married you are not required to give out “ang pao”, although those who can afford often do and younger people do not give to older people unless it is their parents. A working child giving “ang pao” to parents is a form of respect. In family’s who are wealthy the father is likely to give out “ang pao” to all his children, their spouses and grandchildren.

As in any tradition in modern society the quaint tradition of “ang pao” has become commercialized and exploited, with children expecting large sums in their packets. In my husband’s day his “ang pao” consisted of twenty cents. As he reached his teens the amount increased to one dollar and twenty cents. Try giving that amount to kids today. Children every year go from house to house collecting “ang pao” keeping count of how much they have collected. My children’s friends boast to them that they have collected “ang pao” in the total amount of two to three thousand dollars, because large amounts are given to them by wealthy relations. My children think they are suffering because the total amount of they receive is only two to three hundred every year.

When receiving ‘ang pao” it is bad manners to check the amount in front of the giver, but as soon as it is possible to check, children will check and inform their parents as to how much was given as their parents don’t want to appear to be cheapskates if their “ang pao” is less then what others give out. Most households give out ten dollars to their children’s friends and children of relatives. During the stock market boom it was not unusual for children to open their packet and find fifty dollars. The tradition of giving out “ang pao” has become quite an expensive affair, especially for those who have many children with many friends and those who come from large families. With the trend continuing in this direction maybe in the future you will be required to take out a small loan just to distribute “ang pao”. Fact is, it is not really the amount that matters, what matters more is the red packet it’s given in, as the giving of the red packet signifies good luck.

Motherhood: Our Dirty Little Secrets

It is often said that motherhood is the toughest job in the world and Oprah is the first to shout that fact out from the rooftops even though she has never been a mother. Many woman approach motherhood with dreams and hopes and ideals thinking it will be a stroll in the park as it is shown on TV. Once the child is born all those ideas are thrown out with the piles of poopy diapers. I mean who knew that a newborn infant could shit ten times a day, especially if they are breast fed and who knew that life for you will never be the same again.

So the other night I managed to catch her show. There were women on her show sharing their dirty little secrets on how they approached motherhood. Many of these women have reached their wits end when it comes to dealing with their progeny and I could surely empathise with them. One woman confessed that she often resorted to tears when dealing with her kids. Yelling and time outs didn’t work so she cries to get her kids to behave. Listening to these women made me think of my own childhood were the motto “Spare the rod and spoil the child” was the rule of the day. There was no problem that couldn’t be solved with a good swift kick in the ass. Today no one dares hit their children, especially in public, for fear of being accused of child abuse. When we went out many people told my mother that my sisters and I were the most polite well behaved little girls they had ever met. That’s because we knew better. We didn’t ask for things when we went shopping, we didn’t dare ask for money and we did not throw temper tantrums in the store. When we met friends of our parents we called them Mr. or Mrs. or if the friend was really close we called them aunt or uncle. Times surely have changed.

When we push that squalling little thing from our loins most of us love our children unconditionally at the first sight of that tiny little face, no matter how ugly. Many of us shed a few tears because we are so overcome with emotions that cannot be put into words. One women on that show confessed that she did not like her baby and it took her a few weeks to feel any connection with it. This is probably not as uncommon as you would think, after all the pregnancy doesn’t always go as hoped and many women feel like crap during this so called special time. During the pregnancy all the attention is placed on the expectant mother but once the child is born the mother is practically ignored and all the attention is placed on the baby. No wonder many women resent their babies.

Confessions were plenty. One woman confessed that she hated the feel of her sagging breasts resting on her post pregnancy belly. Another confessed that her children don’t always get a healthy breakfast; in fact they get pizza for breakfast at least twice a week. A high flying lawyer turned stay at home mom deals with misbehaviour by taking away all her kids toys, only returning them when she feels like it. That’ll teach the little bugger. I have to confess that I once dealt with a temper tantrum that my daughter threw, one of many, too many to count really, by ripping up her favourite colouring book. That sure put an end to the tantrum. I have to confess though, while it stopped the tantrum I felt like a shit afterward because of her accusing eyes.

Yes many of us are not perfect mothers and between you and me there is no point trying to be. If your kids turn out to be rotten adults you’ll be blamed for it anyways. Mothers are only human and there will be times when we forget to stock up on diapers. One woman on the show had run out of diapers on an air flight and had asked the stewardess to bring her napkins from first class and some maxi pads for a makeshift diaper. There will be times when meals are not as healthy as they should be. The house will be in disarray because you haven’t had the time to clean up and there will be times when you haven’t showered for days on end. Many women on the show confessed that after giving birth they didn’t want sex anymore. Not surprising, sex is what got them in that position in the first place. I certainly know how they feel. After every pregnancy, five in total, I told my husband that I was still bleeding two months after giving birth when in fact I had finished six weeks after. Just to avoid sex. It’s not surprising that many marriages are ruined after the baby arrives. A lot of women actually hate their husbands after giving birth.

Many women, after giving birth, become disillusioned about motherhood. While many women want to be mothers they actually hate doing it. The war between working mothers and non working mothers is ongoing, frankly speaking both are disorganised. The only difference being is the working mother gets to join in on adult conversations on a daily basis. Some women rely on Prozac just to get through the day, because they can’t stand their kids and feel like they are the only mother in the world who has lost control. Believe me you are not alone.

So what is my dirty little secret, I have many but the ones I’m writing down here are, I love you but I don’t always like you very much and those times that you all screamed “I hate you mummy” believe me during that moment I hated you more.

Junk

I have always been a bit of a neat freak and my two older daughters have inherited the same tendencies as me. I remember sharing a bedroom with my sister growing up. There was an imaginary line drawn in the room that signified her side of the room and my side. Her side of the room always looked like a bomb hit, my side was as neat as a pin. There was a place for everything and everything had a place.

Now as an adult I am still neat, my room is cleaned once a week and my bed sheets are changed. God forbid that I, sleep on bed sheets that have been on the bed for two weeks, to me it’s just so yucks!! My floors in the house are swept and mopped every day, yes in my house there are chores that must be done every day. MUST! Going to work my house was left in an orderly fashion once I got home from work it was in disarray because of my kids and this would put me in a bad mood for the rest of the evening and have me reaching for the bottle of vodka. I live by schedules and I need order around me so if my schedule is screwed up somehow and there is disorder all around I cannot function. So now with Chinese New Year coming up once again it’s time for spring cleaning.

When I was working I used to use my leaves just to stay home and clean house, not take holidays. With only one day off a week there wasn’t much time for spring cleaning. Now I’m not working I have more time unfortunately I don’t have the energy I used to have, while the spirit is willing the body is protesting. I actually hate spring cleaning and yet I relish in the fact that my house will be clean. With spirits high I painted my bedroom two days after Christmas, nothing like an early start. Painting my room used to take me one day to paint, this year or should I say last year it took me two days. On the end of the first day of painting my body ached so badly I was practically crawling around on all fours. That night I forced my kids to make up my bed and position it in the middle of the room so I could sleep in my half painted room. I managed to finish painting the next day which was New Years Eve. That was Thursday and New Years Day I rested. The day after though I cleaned out the store room or rather forced my kids to clean it out and I of course ended up finishing it.

This past weekend I cleaned out my kitchen cupboards. I thought they had not been cleaned out for ten years but my eldest daughter assures me that she has cleaned them out a few times when she was at home. Phew thank god I would hate to think they had never been cleaned, they certainly looked like it though. One thing about cupboards, they are a neat freaks dream. Any junk can be thrown inside and not seen unless you open the cupboard. This past Christmas though I noticed how dirty they were and there wasn’t any space left. Things were piling up on the kitchen table and that’s another thing that irritates me, junk on the kitchen table and so it was time to clean out those cupboards.

I was merciless in my cleaning; things that are not used and will not be used in the future were thrown out. By time I finished I had two bags of junk and as I put everything back in the cupboard that I was keeping I wondered how all that shit could fit inside in the first place. I got most of it done but I still have two cupboards to clean, this weekend. I also noticed that my legs were aching on Monday.
So this weekend I intend to finish the kitchen cupboards, there really isn’t that much more time before Chinese New year. Once the kitchen is clean the next project is my bedroom cupboard. My cupboards are full of clothes that I cannot wear since I gained weight. Curse you menopause! I’m sure there will be two more big bags to throw out. I had intended to do some painting in the house but after the experience of painting my room nah I’ll wait until next year when I can hire someone to paint the house for me. As I said the spirit is willing but the body is protesting.

Confessions of a smoker

Oh the taste of that first cigarette in the morning. Sitting in the kitchen with the first cup of coffee of the day, this I think to myself has got to be the best feeling in the world. Now I know there are those of you out there who are thinking it’s not the best feeling in the world, actually, its slow suicide. I just can’t stop. I’ve tried to and at some point in the next few months I will try again. The problem is every time I try to stop, I feel resentful. I am not a chain smoker, I don’t smoke three or four packs a day I only smoke one pack. I am not one of those people who wake up three or four times a night to smoke. No, to me better then smoking is sleeping and I’d rather sleep. The reason why I feel resentful when I try to quit is because it’s the only pleasure I get out of this crappy life.

I grew up in a family of smokers. Everyone smoked and most of them smoked themselves to death. My own mother had triple bypass surgery because of all the years she spent smoking. It’s ironic that she had actually quit smoking two years before her surgery, which is lucky for her but she still has trouble breathing. The only reason why she quit was because she couldn’t afford to smoke any more, not because she wanted to.

As a kid I remember being in the car with my parents. Now the summer months weren’t so bad but in the winter, my sisters and I would be sitting in the back seat, all the windows up and both my parents would be smoking. If we complained they told us to shut up. If we wanted to roll down a window my mother would yell it’s too cold. How’s that for second hand smoke. It’s no wonder I smoke. Those two should have been arrested for child endangerment or abuse. But hey that was pretty normal back then. I remember my mother taking me to family doctor when I was sick. He’d have a cigarette burning away and my mother would light up as well as soon as she sat her butt in the patient’s chair and the kind doctor would say “here Marilyn, here’s the ashtray”.

I started smoking quite young. I was around fourteen years old when I picked up this nasty habit. I know its nasty but I can’t help it. Much to my shame I smoked during my first three pregnancies, but did manage to stop for pregnancy four and five. I really suffered. As soon as I gave birth I was screaming at my husband to get me some cigarettes. Luckily I only spent two days in the hospital with the last two. I remember giving birth to my first two children; they allowed us to smoke in the rooms. People back then didn’t know any better.

At least I can say that I didn’t smoke in the car when my children were inside. I smoke in the house though, but I live in a tropical country and my house is open all day with a fan going until I go to bed at night. Not like when I was a kid growing up in Canada, the long winter months, the house tightly closed and adults inside smoking and when we had company the smoke was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Maybe that’s why our mother threw us outdoors every chance she got.

No one forced me to smoke I decided all by myself. My cousin started first and I just naturally started. The first time my dad saw me with a cigarette he pulled it out of my fingers and yelled at me not to smoke, but it was ok to drink at the age of fifteen, such logic. I do have to say though that I do regret starting smoking. Now at the age of fifty-one my mortality is staring me in the face. I want to quit, so maybe I should try the patch or the pills they have now to help you quit. Or I could sit and stare at the disgusting pictures they put on the packages now, if that doesn’t make me quit, I don’t know what will.

American Idol

So once again American Idol is on the air and going into their ninth season. I didn’t watch the first few seasons because of the late hours I worked but around the third season I started to watch. At first I enjoyed it watching the show but year after year I began to lose interest and season eight I did not watch at all.

Idol has just lost its appeal for me every year it is the same old thing. People across the US fill the stadiums where the trials are being held. Mind you there are some really good singers out there and disserve a chance at the title, unfortunately there are also those idiots that insist on auditioning who can’t sing worth a damn. The trouble with these people is they are so full of themselves that they think they can sing and get right upset when they are asked to leave.

Another reason why I stopped watching Idol was because of Paula Abdul. She has got to be the most brainless, blubbering idiot to ever grace our screens. So when I read that Paula’s contract wasn’t going to be renewed this year I cheered. Through all the seasons I don’t think that witless woman has ever said anything remotely intelligent. One day, with nothing to watch on TV, I ended up watching her reality show and I have to tell you it sucks ass. All that woman did was whine, bitch and complain. Seriously if I wanted to listen to all that whining, bitching and complaining I’d go out and buy myself a bottle of vodka, drink it and sit and listen to my own thoughts.

So this season when they announced that Ellen DeGeneres was going to be the new judge I was ecstatic once again. Once again I sit and watch Idol with all the crappy singers that make your bowels cringe and also a few very good surprises and once in Hollywood Ellen will join the veteran judges and I can’t wait for her to bring some humour and wit to the tired out show and to see how she pits herself against Simon. Here’s to you Ellen make this season a good one and one worth watching.

Farmville

I’ve never been a person who likes to play games, probably because I get very competitive and also I can be a sore loser. After joining Facebook I kept getting invites from friends and family to join all the online games so I ended up joining Farm Town and played at it in between writing my articles. I haphazardly worked at my farm. My fields were crooked and for the life of me I could not get them straight. My son laughed at my farm and an online friend said it was cute. I planted crops that would take two and three days to grow so I wouldn’t have to visit too often as my writing took precedence. It wasn’t long and someone asked me to join Farmville. At first I worked haphazardly at this farm as well and my fields were crooked. I planted crops that took two and three days to grow here as well after all I now had two farms to look after in between writing. Then my daughter went back to work after her maternity leave and grandma was to babysit. Grandma found she no longer had much time to write, but online games could be played while feeding baby and when baby was asleep and you didn’t have to use many brain cells to play them.

My addiction to Farmville began.
Farm Town takes back seat to Farmville hands up. While both games are basically the same, you build your farm level by level, you tend your crops and earn virtual coins once you sell them Farmville has the added advantage of being able to harvest your animals. On Farm Town your animals walk around aimlessly and you can’t harvest them so you can’t make money off of them. Once you reach a certain level you can sell your animals for mere cents, on Farmville you can harvest your animals and earn money or you can sell them. On Farmville it is easier and faster to level up. Even though I have been playing Farm Town much longer my level on Farmville is higher. My farm field rows are now nice and straight, my farm has grown in size three times since last month, I have animals galore, two cow sheds where my cows pop out a baby calf once in a while. I have a chicken coup, two barns and trees and recently upgraded my small house to a larger farm house. During Christmas there were decorations and the farm was blanketed in snow. The snow has melted now that Christmas is over. Yesterday I was lucky to adopt a lonely pink cow, which I have wanted for the longest time, and also managed to adopt a pink calf, what luck. I now plant rows and rows of crops which I harvest every day.

Feeling stressed, play Farmville and while I play many more online games on Facebook nothing beats Farmville, a relaxing way to pass time. You can almost feel the virtual dirt running through your fingers. It’s a non competitive game where you can see your virtual coins growing every day. Better go, have to harvest my crops and animals and by the way those of you who have fish tanks FEED YOUR FISH! I hate seeing those poor dead fish floating around the tank.

Cats

I’m an animal lover and love all animals. Insects and lizards who wonder into my house are safe from me for I will not squash cockroaches, spiders or kill the little house lizards that adorn the walls of my house, as they do in tropical Asian countries. For the most part these little creatures only need to fear my cat or if my daughter, who is deathly afraid of cockroaches, comes screaming out of the bathroom yelling at me to kill it. I have four dogs, two cats and one rabbit. But of all the animals around it is the poor cat which gets the bum rap.

Cats are not only disliked in Asian countries but also some people in the west don’t like them. In Canada cat owners are not allowed to let their cats wonder around outside now because of complaints from people who do not want cats crapping in their gardens. In Asia many people don’t like cats and so there are a lot of strays out there. They have dog catchers who periodically go around rounding up stray dogs but cats are pretty much left to their own devices, living in the rough. My daughter has eight cats. All are rescue cats except for one. At one time she was quite active in a group called “Cat Rescuers”. Now that she has the baby she doesn’t have the time although she still has the eight cats.

During her pregnancy well meaning friends and acquaintances informed her that it was time to get rid of the cats. They insisted that you can’t keep cats with a baby in the condo. Why is there so much fear over cats? Yeah I know there have been reports that have found that cat urine and crap is harmful to pregnant women. But it has also been stated that if a pregnant woman cleans a litter box all she has to do is wash her hands thoroughly. If you have a baby at home any sane person is not going to clean the litter box out with their bare hands then attend to the baby directly. There are pooper scoopers to clean out the box and all houses should have soap and water to clean up afterwards. So far the cat fur doesn’t bother the baby. For the most part it is people with allergies to cats or has asthma who should avoid them. The baby is fine.

It used to be when I visited my daughter all the cats would go into hiding. Now that I have been going to the condo to babysit my granddaughter the cats are used to me and during the day you can see them lying around the apartment in different area’s catching their forty winks. Cats are mostly active at night and the early part of the morning so when I enter the condo in the morning I am greeted by cats swarming around my ankles looking for food. Half the time I end up tripping over one of them and I am surprised that I have not fallen and broken my neck yet. During the day they are not much of a problem except for the odd one that steals my chair and stares daggers at me when I kick its ass out. Another cat likes to irritate me when I make my breakfast. Turn around too long and the cat will be on the counter licking my toast. Yuck!! The other day I washed the baby’s clothes and one of the cats was sleeping on the washing machine so I had to throw his ass off so I could load the machine. He wasn’t happy. He sauntered into the kitchen flopped on the floor staring cock at me. When I walked past him and bent down to pet him he scratched me. His displeasure was made known.

The cats don’t bother the baby although once in a while one of them will try to sleep her baby chair. I just throw it out. The baby is not bothered by fur, as my daughter vacuums the condo regularly. For the most part all you have to do is keep it clean. After all cats do have a purpose. They keep mice and rats away, walls are free of lizards and cockroaches. Now all I have to do is watch where I’m walking. This morning, when carrying the baby, one of the cats entwined in my legs and almost tripped me up. I should be used to it by now though, as every day, for almost ten years, there is a cat in my house which will almost cause me to fall down the stairs.

Breastfeeding

Breastfeeding is the most natural thing in the world and the sight of a woman breastfeeding her baby is one of the most beautiful sights to behold, so this morning when I read an article in the newspaper about a woman who breastfed her baby until she was six years old almost made me gag. Anyways this woman wrote a book about her experience.

Now I can understand women in underdeveloped third world countries having to breastfeed their children until they are five years of age. After all breast milk is cheap and nourishing and this way the poor woman can make sure that her child grows to be strong and healthy, but in developed countries where technology has made it possible for woman to buy good quality fortified infant formulas, I don’t think so. It just seems a little grotesque.

Breast milk is nutritious for the baby up until the age of two years, beyond that there is no scientific proof of it having much nutritional value so it is not necessary to feed the baby any longer than that. This woman claims that breastfeeding her daughter for that length of time has aided in her daughters emotional wellbeing and development even though there is no scientific proof of this being true. During her years of breastfeeding she came across many other woman who breastfed their babies up to five years and beyond with one breastfeeding her child until the age of twenty. There was also the case cited in her book of a mother suckling her daughter for comfort after her daughter’s husband died. She said that many women who breastfeed their children for so long do it in the privacy of their own homes and would never dream of doing it in public. Gee I wonder why. Wouldn’t it be absurd to see a mother suckling her ten year old kid in a shopping mall? I bet that would make people stop and stare and wonder what weird shit is going on, never mind the embarrassment for the kid to be found out by one of their peers. They’d never live that down at school.

Women’s breasts are meant to feed their children and breast milk provides the best nutrition for their babies up until the age of two. Beyond that it’s just weird. In fact most women today, after going through their confinement period, must return to work and the business of pumping breast milk at the office and again when coming home is a tiresome job especially after putting in their eight hours or more at the office. Once women return to work most will stop breastfeeding altogether. For those that breastfeed beyond the recommended two years all I can say is they must have too much time on their hands.

Happy New Year

Another year has come and gone and as I reflect on the past year, which was 2009, I can see that it had been a year of ups and downs for me. In the beginning of the year, during Chinese New Year in fact, my eldest daughter informed me that she was expecting my first grandchild. The happiness I felt was overwhelming. Many years previously I had informed her not to make me a grandmother at too young an age, but now I was ready to hold my first grandchild. After all I had been bugging her to have one since the married the year before as I did not want to be dead before my grandchildren came.

The months went by and her abdomen steadily grew, she had her worries and I did my best to alleviate her fears but in early July my sisters informed me that my dear mother had been diagnosed with cancer and they really weren’t sure how long she would last. I cried then moved heaven and earth to be with her one more time before she died. I was elated that I made it home once again to be with my family after ten long years. We had a lot of catching up to do. My eldest son and his girlfriend went with me; it was the first time my son had been to the land of his birth since he left when he was only eighteen months old. My eldest daughter had wanted to go as well to see her beloved grandmother one last time but she was too far along in her pregnancy to follow. My son met his cousins for the first time and all got along really well. It should have been a happy trip but it was not, sadly my mother passed two days after I arrived. Everyone agreed that my mother was waiting to see me one last time before she went.

We put my mother’s ashes at the top of my father’s grave, the only man she had ever loved, and it was during this time that we received a call from my daughter informing us she had gone into premature labour and had been hospitalized. She had only been thirty two to thirty three weeks along in the pregnancy. She informed me that the doctors were trying to stop her labour, thankfully they succeeded. She was put on bed rest for the rest of the pregnancy. While I didn’t want to leave Canada and my family I had family at home who needed me more, so after two weeks we returned to Malaysia. Thankfully labour had been stopped but the baby did not turn and so the doctor informed my daughter to prepare for an emergency cesarean section. The date my daughter picked had been 09-09-09 which is a very auspicious day according to the Chinese beliefs; it was just as well she had picked that date because she went into labour again.

Our little darling Dallas Rose Wong Wei was born at 8:55 on the morning of 09-09-09 weighing in at 6lbs 4 ozs, quietly, by C section. She opened her big black eyes and gazed at her father who immediately fell in love as did we all. She is the brightest most beautiful child. After my daughter and granddaughter were released from the hospital they came home to mommy where my daughter would start her confinement period which is in accordance with Chinese tradition. It was a few weeks after the birth that I found my baby crying. The hormones were playing up and she had a feeling of being overwhelmed as most new mothers do. She was worried about leaving her baby when she went back to work. I was to be the one who would look after Dallas. I climbed into the bed beside her embraced her and informed her that as long as I was alive and able she would not have to worry about her child, I would always be there to help her out.

She is back to work now and everything has fallen into place. My two youngest children sat for their government exams. My youngest son sat for his PMR and my youngest daughter sat for her SPM. My son managed to score three A’s which is an achievement. Through most of his years of school he has had difficulties and had always been exalted if he came second last in class instead of last. We are proud of his achievement and I hope with all my heart he continues to do well. At this time my daughter is waiting for her results happy in the fact that she did not get picked for National Service. She is now learning to drive. She will work for a year before starting college and she has decided to study photography.

Christmas came and Christmas went and all my children came home. I did not feel like celebrating this year I kept thinking about my mother. While I had made it home to see her I was not with her when she died. My sister and I had gone home the night she died thinking she still had some time. For the rest of my life I will forever feel guilty that I was not with her to stroke her brow and soothe away her fears of dying. I’m going to bad daughter hell. On another high though my son and his fiancee, he proposed to her on Christmas morning with a nice rock that any girl would be proud to wear, bought their first house. While I have informed them that they can stay with me for as long as they want to they want their own space. I don’t blame her; I lived with my in laws for eleven years of hell.

The week after Christmas I painted my bedroom. It is now time for spring cleaning as Chinese New Year is just around the corner. Last year I did a considerable amount of painting and did not feel as bad as I did after painting just one room. My muscles and joints were on fire. Proof that age is catching up with me and I am not as strong as I used to be. I have always been a physically strong woman and often used to wonder how I would feel when I was old. Now I know. The weakness is appalling to me, but there it is we all grow old and there is nothing we can do about it. I finished my room on New Year’s Eve. All my children went out and I ushered in the New Year alone. They all called me though or messaged me and I knew they had not or ever will forget me, even number four who I am constantly at logger heads now. I sat in front of the TV and vegetated with my bottle of vodka and reflected on the past year, hoping that 2010 will be better. Then I thought how it could be better when 2009 brought me my first grandchild. While I have lost two friends to petty grievances on their part I have found an old friend who I now keep in touch with through Facebook. “Happy New Year everyone and I hope the new year will bring you all everything you always hoped for or ever wanted.