One Hundred Nine One

 I think I have hand-eye coordination problem.

Never did I realise this until recently - especially after I was exposed to problems facing people with spectrum. Here are some instances showing exactly my coordination problem.

1. Mum sent me to music class as early as 9. My first few classes were the hardest. I had a hard time synchronising my right hand for the melody, my left hand for the chord and my left foot for the pedal. It came with practice, but it was definitely not something which came naturally easy to me.

2. My driving test was among the worst yet memorable experience I had in life. I took the test 3 times. It was so hard for my brain to tell my hands to do different things at the same time. Balancing the pedals were the most difficult. Having to focus on multiple things on road were much worse. But now I'm a hardcore driver alreadyyy. 

Again, it takes practice for me to get me used to doing these stuff.

3. I began to learn swimming after I got married. First with my little brothers in law. Next with Syafiq of course. He was struggling to teach me as I haven't got (even to-date) my legs and hands synchronised. 

Long story short it is hard for me to get things synchronised with not enough practice. I have to train myself hard to do things, to get to the mastery level. This speaks for everything I do in life. Can't settle for less. Must work hard to achieve things.

One Hundred Ninety

The Feeling of Evening

I love the feeling of evening I’ve had since I was a child. The anticipation which comes with it sheer excitement for my 5pm play time. And when I started schooling, I was always looking forward to my sports house practice.

Also the feeling of excitement to hear the last bell ringing, then to rush to ayah’s car or to walk home with Alia. I gushed about my club meetings in the evening, or marching training.

I have loved everything about anticipating evenings. Rain or shine evenings have always made my heart full. 

When I first met Syafiq our dates were usually in the evening. At the park we took a walk. When I began my career, evenings are the time I begin to clock in.

Evenings are beautiful, even on my bad hair days.

One Hundred Eighty Nine

 "I've never seen you show your emotions to your subordinates," he said. "I'm so sorry this happens to you."

Marriage can be pretty stressful sometimes but moments like today get me wonder what have I done to deserve someone as loving and caring like him. 

One Hundred Eighty Eight

I think it's the 30th or 31st day of Restricted Movement Order (RMO) but who's even counting?

I am supposed to do the laundry but a sudden thought dragged me here. Probably because I'm missing my mom and Cik Nah so much that I keep thinking about them. And something that Syafiq nonchalantly uttered to me a couple of months back got me wondering.

I am lucky to be brought up in a very selfless family. Mom, dad and Cik Nah always prioritise us children. They made sure they were available for every occasion. They didn't mind (or so I thought) to wait if we got carried away chatting with our friends or teachers after a competition or event. They'd wait, with patience they would.

They would never just drop us at the bus station or the airport so we could check in by ourselves. The whole troop would send us out and bid proper farewell. They made time for us. We felt (and still do) very important.

Little did I realise they were busy people. Mom worked as an AGM at an esteemed GLC. She was always busy, always on the move, always flying... but it's magical that she was always there for me. She knew all my friends and their families. My friends and their parents did too.

Dad was much more advanced. He even knew every corner at my school (given the fact he's the chairman of the PTA) and all the teachers. I didn't even know all teachers. He cared. He didn't act like he did but he genuinely cared. People were pleased with his presence. He was always concerned, very generous and always giving.

When I grew up, especially after dad left us, I suddenly wondered if my parents and Cik Nah even had 'a life' as they'd been focusing too much on us. The four of us. Then it hit me, we are their life.

They wouldn't finish the last fruit on the table because they thought we should. They would cancel, or postpone a balik kampung because one of us had a kawad kaki competition. Everyone's birthday was celebrated with grandeur and jubilation. We felt (and still do) feel important.

It was never about a single person. It's always about togetherness. Syafiq made me realised a couple of months back that I have become a lot like my parents and Cik Nah. He said, "No wonder you always put others first. You get it from them."

I was in awe. I didn't know what to say. I didn't even know I was like that.

Until I became a part of a birthday celebration of a different family where the celebrated one bought a cake written "Happy birthday to me and myself". It showed how underappreciated this person felt to the family. There was no song, no wish. It was totally different from the celebrations I had with my own family. The family members find it a torment to be there on each other's big days; graduations, weddings you name it. It's like they are forced to be present. Their togetherness was forced.

I'm grateful I was brought up in a selfless family who'd have each other's back.

One Hundred Eighty Seven

I think what makes relationship works is the fact that two people want the same thing in life. You can't be wanting to live a quiet life when your spouse wants a hectic life. You aspire the same kind of destination you would want to end up with, and you work for it.

Some people may be able to tolerate and forego their dreams for the sake of staying in the relationship, but I don't think that works for me. Thankfully Syafiq and I share the same dreams despite the many differences we have to argue about.

Love is miraculous, but it alone does not suffice. You need compatibility to live together, and not just to live together, but to live harmoniously; at peace.

One Hundred Eighty Six

All my life I am a fan of playgrounds.

Hundreds of years ago when I was 9, when playground for me was a place to play than to bringing the nephews to play nor for dating - I frequented one near my house.

There, I'd meet my friends especially Amira and Norita to play various games like galah panjang and  tag.

There was this big slide in the middle of the park where we  made it our 'fort' so that anyone hidden in the fort couldn't be tagged.

There was this one time when we got scolded by an uncle who took his small daughter aged 3 or so, "Ini kan gelongsor! Buat macam gelongsor. Jangan main-main kat sini!"

Then we stopped playing that day.

Recalling the incident, it got me thinking why would adults restrict a child's imagination? Should toys be played the way they are supposed to be played or should we let children use their imagination to explore them?

I would most definitely support giving children the freedom to go wild with their thoughts. That's how they develop their mind.

Stop restricting a child's growing mind.

One Hundred Eighty Five

Yesterday I got mad at Syafiq for no apparent reason (well, he didn't comply with one of my tiny request) and stopped talking to him. He tried his best to console me and when I've cooled down, he reminded me in his softest voice,

"I understand we can't get everything we want and sometimes we become upset. But we must not hurt others too at the same time."

I immediately apologised for saying things I shouldn't have.