Another one?

No no, not what you're thinking.

Usually, the husband and I rarely communicate during the day when we're at work. Because you know, we're no longer in our courting-newly-wed years anymore.

And then, out of the blue, he has been wishing me good morning for a few days, adorned with the blowing heart kiss emoji. How cute.

Then it's not cute anymore when he finally asks, "Can I go to Bangkok with my friends? Golf trip"

At least he asked, you say. He'd probably already secured his tickets. Asking is just to prevent divorce.

First leisure trip with friends?, you ask. Nope. He has enjoyed his buddy-trip every year since he met his group of businessmen friends. Every year.

Yes, I am jealous. Yes, I am sour about it. He has NEVER taken me on a trip. He said he wanted to. He even took some brochures. WOW. Just WOW. I'm just worth a brochure.

Sometimes I feel that marriage is a trap for women. The men will never be trapped. They get to go on golf trips.

I need to meditate now. And I believe in karma. Such a bitch, this one.

11th Anniversary

Last Saturday, we celebrated our 11th year of marriage. Why does it feel like it is a feat? Many couples can do it, yet many couples fail. Until now, I'm still wondering if we can last another 10 years. It's not that I don't have the confidence that it will, but it's the never-say-never take on marriages, you know.

So, in the morning, I asked the husband to take off his wedding ring. He was not happy about it, hahaha. I took mine off too... to do this cute silly art! This was very impromptu, and I love it! The best part was, this hand lettering only took one shot! Usually I would have to write many many, then choose the best.

Truth is, like all marriages, we've had our ups and downs. It wasn't 11 years of bed-of-roses-everyday.   We gained some and lost some, we've laughed and cried in each other's arms, and most of all, we stayed on.

Now, aint' that a feat... 

That tone...

Has your spouse ever snapped at you rudely when you ask or comment on something? Or at a tone similar to an impatient and frustrated parent responding to a child's incessant questioning?

Last night at the dinner table, I merely said that the toilet's tank is leaking, and it's been leaking the whole night. That's it. Period.

The husband, God knows what came over him, snapped. In front of our boys, in front of his father.

I kept silent after that all throughout dinner. Strangely, everyone was quietly eating. Usually, Darren would talk a lot at the dinner table, but though he was oblivious to the snapping, he was eating his meal without a sound. I think the husband sensed my displeasure. Who cares, I just decided to put on my resting bitch face.

Because I ain't gonna take that tone with me, mister.

Ok, in his defense, the husband is not the kind who snaps rudely. But he grew up with a father who speaks like that to him and his mom sometimes. No one likes to be spoken to like that right. I think that's why he likes me, because I'm soft spoken and gentle. Haha.

So maybe last night, his father's gene got active in him or something. So I shut him out. It's usually my sign of protest.

Yeah, the resting bitch face rocks.

Emotional Disconnection

Here's a good read on what love is, Hold Me Tight, written by  clinical psychologist, Sue Johnson.

My Valentine's Night

Let me tell you about my Valentine's Day.

Spent the whole day working, and feeling meh.

Reached home to quickly prepare potato salad for BBQ party organized by the hubz' golf buddies/business-related associates.

Hubz tells me the host's wife is 4 months pregnant. Memories of my last pregnancy floods in. Shit shit shit shit don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry. It's been SO long ago surely I have put that away for good right? WRONG! You DON'T forget these things.

Dished out potato salad is a nice big serving bowl and gets into car.

Peak hour jam. To prolong my misery.

Reached. Only one guest there. Says hello to host and preggie wife AND preggie host's sister. Double joy!

The boys make themselves at home. And I MEAN at home. Daniel had his legs up on the sofa and Darren explores the entire house.

We eat first.

More guests arrive. Chatted with some. The men remain near the BBQ pit and drink beer.

Children plays chasing game in the house.

Drank champagne.

Children screaming in the house. A mummy guest carrying her baby requests host to turn off 'something'.

The 'something' turned out to be porn clips on his TV console. Children are jumping and screaming 'EIYER! EIYER!'

Host turns red.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. That was the highlight of my otherwise disastrous night.

A lady guest casually asked why is the BBQ organized on Valentine's Day. My. Sentiments. Exactly. High-five. Turns out it was the host's preggie wife who decided on it. Can't blame her for having placenta brain.

Start to notice the porcelain made-up dressed-up girlfriends of some guests. They looked like heaven. Their hair was long and flowy. But they looked bored. They must be wondering why are they there on Valentine's Day, surrounded by rowdy men burning food and drinking lots of beer.

Clock strikes 11. Time to go home. Daniel has school the next day ( Saturday, a 'replacement' for the given CNY week-long break).

Daniel whispers in my ear "Mummy, don't forget to help me in my homework". I put on the catatonic look.

Reached home at 11.30pm. Looks at Daniel's homework and said "I need time to translate all these"

Sent him to bed.

Took a shower and settled down with my iPhone and the Chinese homework. Used an app to translate word by word.

Finished at 2 am.

Slept. Woke up with excruciatingly painful leg cramps at 3 and 4 am.

Woke up at 6.30am to send Daniel to school, then off to the market.

The End. Yay.

Marriage and Anti-Valentine's Day

I am usually filled with love. But today, and for many days before this, I am not.

When you're married with children, you stop celebrating love-related days. There are only birthdays because the kids want cake. Some couples are lucky to spend some nice quiet time with each other after the kids are in bed.

Last night, on the eve, I was alone. The hubz was attending some CNY dinner after golf, so I didn't see him the whole day.

And tonight after work, we are going to his golf buddy's house for BBQ party with other buddies and their families. No candlelights, but lots of beer. Which I don't drink.

V-day has slowly become an insignificant day. The only one that mattered was the one in 2004 when he proposed to me. This morning The Flying Dutchman said that this is the day where you put your woman on the pedestal and show her your love. And I'm thinking, what the, no such thing la you gullible girls out there. I mean yea, enjoy the attention while you still GOT IT, and then it will become a day you sulk and get angry because you feel cheated.

Wow I'm really feeling all the angst and negativity about love nowadays. And it feels awesome. It's just great to be feeling something again and I don't care what it is.

I don't want to compromise, I don't want to be understanding, I don't want to be NICE anymore.

What an F day.

Meh

It's one of those nasty PMS moments again. I wish the husband knows what to do but he just pushes my buttons more and more. I'm angry and he's blur. I become uncommunicative and cold, and he doesn't know what I want, and he doesn't ask, and I interpret it as he doesn't care, and I don't want to tell him because I'd expect him to take the initiative. Oh vicious ding dong.

SO. The Chinese New Year is in 6 days.

The bathroom door is broken.

There are ugly wirings in plastic tubing sticking out of the garden.

There is still no washing area at the garden corner where he said he'll do.

The gate lights/wiring are screwed up but nothing has been done.

AND. He still has time for golf and drinking.

Last month, he widened the gate for better feng shui, you know, wider gate, more luck can come in.

But let me tell you this, ANY good feng shui won't work when you have an angry wife.

There!!  PPPBBBLLLHHHHHH!

The Wife Factor

Some Chinese businessmen believes that one of the factor that influences their career success and luck is their wife.

One word, chubby. The consensus is a woman with a fleshy nose, chubby hands and feet. 

I have none of those. 

During dinner one night, the husband talked a lot about his career path and work as usual. Then he talked about how some wives bring luck to their husbands. I knew who he was talking about. It's a sister of one of his close friend. She is like the Goddess of Chinese Businessmen's Wife. She married a man who rode motorcycle and she manoeuvred his path to a million dollar worth business. 

He said, "She's VERY clever in business" (hmm, sounds different in Cantonese)

I know my husband. He admires very smart people especially in business, those who seem to have the luck or the opportunity to soar high and gain success. Perhaps he envies these people. He is waiting to get there... fast.

I asked him, "Do you mean I don't bring you luck? Coz you are struggling right now". He said it's a matter of fate. Some wives are like that Goddess, some are neutral, no good luck, no bad luck, the husband has to work on his own capabilities. 

WOW. I totally got the hint. Or is it just me? Such a blink-blink moment there and then. I felt so bad, like a child who just got shushed because she's not helping the situation.

I should go into an eating disorder to get chubby eh.

The Stressed Husband

On some days where he had an intense critical non-stopping battle on the site, he'd come home later, finish his dinner and then predictably, stone at the patio with a cigarette. He'd be using his phone most of the time too, then shower, and then go back to the patio with his phone and another cigarette. He is totally in another world. And then lock up the doors and plonk down on the bed. He'd snore almost immediately.

On some nights, he'd be out drinking. I am usually asleep or half-asleep by the time he trudge home, reeking of alcohol. 

No exchange of words, no hugs or kisses. That's how some days are.

I feel sorry for him, I really am. I wonder if I am doing enough to support him. My method is to leave him alone to dwell in his cave (the author of Men from Mars, Women from Venus said so!) and give him his space. I know I can do more. I used to drop him messages of encouragement, do little sweet things, buy stuff for him, but now I feel like I'm withholding all those affections due to resentment.

I'm tired too.

8 Years and Counting...

Last week, we were married for 8 years. It has been an amazing journey so far, and we're stronger today than ever before, and I look forward to many more years of togetherness.

Married to Smartphones

This has been brewing in my heart for a long time now (uh-oh) and I often feel sad and disappointed in the way things are nowadays.

What happened to the good old ways of hanging out together, communicating, cuddling and such in a home that was once filled with physical connections, lots of personal affections and trivial casual chit-chats. Those were so natural, like subconscious reflex. Now, the subconscious reflex is to reach for your smartphone regardless of whether there is a message alert beep or not.

Why is he whatsapping so much? Why is he playing games instead when we have a rare chance of lying in bed together just to chat after the kids are asleep? And if he's looking at his phone so often, why can't he reply a small favour I texted? Why didn't he texted me back? Why doesn't he call me during the day just to hear my voice? Why doesn't he leave me sweet-nothings messages?

The smartphones have taken away the romance. And I am miserable. I am genetically a romantic person. I am also a Piscean. I thrive on dreamland and affections. That is just who I am. My subconscious reflex, is to hug. I'm a hugger, a kisser, a tickler, a smoocher, a pecker, a holder. That is why I adore children because I could do all these so naturally. But when smartphones arrived in my home, I no longer felt I could be myself, the hugger. I want to, but I don't want to, why should I always be the romantic one? Resentment grew each day. It is miresable not being able to be yourself.

I even prayed. Daily. For God to give me abundance of love, for patience, to accept, for strength to be a loving wife amidst being chopped liver. But Samsung won (alongside the newspaper and the Golf Channel).

And what I'm most mad at is that he doesn't 'get it'. He doesn't sense that I need attention too. And the romantics HATE to have to spell it out loud. There was no way I could simply say, "Hey baby, put the phone/newspaper/remote down and have a chat with me, please?". Because that is NOT. ROMANTIC. And after being together for more than ten years, I expected some sensitivity towards my.. you know, body language, expression, and most importantly, what I'm NOT saying. I know, romantics are very hard to be with.

Then it struck me. As naturally as I am a romantic, men are naturally wired to be addicted to gadgets. It's the same as watching TV, especially if it's a good movie, your eyes are fixated on the screen and you just can't move away. It is also the same as driving by an accident scene on the road. We are all 'wired' to look. Darn it then why can't men be wired to be mutually romantic?

The Little Things...

..are the ones that keep a happy marriage, happier.

Recently, we had kept little surprises in each other's car when we leave for work. I'd leave a cereal bar snack in his car when he's too busy or forgets to have his lunch, and this morning after a whole night of coughing, I saw a packet of Woods Lozenges tucked in my middle compartment as I was leaving home in the morning.

Sweetness.

The Golfers Club Syndrome

I just found that long drives are awesome for couple talk! Provided the monkeys are asleep, I'm not asleep and the traffic is relaxed.

It's hard to have a long hearty chat on normals days. Husband is up to his neck with work, wife has full time job, we come home tired but momentarily uplifted by our adorable children's smiles and laughters, occasionally cranky whines and screaming, we eat dinner together, have a quick and brief update on our day, entertain the kids or let them entertain us while we rot on the couch heehee, get their homework checked, bath them, read to them, chill and put them to bed. That leaves us little time for ourselves, let alone time for each other at the end of the day. So there really isn't time for those long endless deep talk under the moonlight.

But last weekend, we did! We took a short trip up to attend a relative's wedding. We started our journey after dinner, and when the boys fell asleep, we had nothing but an open road in front of us and plenty of time to chat. And it's funny I don't remember how we started and how we somehow came to the topic I've been wanting to share for a long time:

Why are men* ALWAYS at the golf club.
*men referring to his fellow club members, mostly golfers, and business associates

Why. Why. Why. Why. Why.

Is there a secret strip cult we wives are unaware of? Is there an underground bowling alley with gutter-proof lanes? Is there an all-year round Santa Rina in Adidas miniskirt handing out golf ball candies? Is there a shaft-balls-and-hole game you guys secretly play somewhere under the putting green? What? What? Give me something here!

Let me tell you the typical duration a golfer spends at the club. On some weekdays, after he runs his business or whatever, he is able to play the 9th hole at 4 or 5pm, which pretty much ends at 6.30 to 7pm. Then he chills and hang out at the bar with beer and organic macadamia nuts and fruits... No, fuck the organic nuts and fruits. Ok, just beer. And liquor. They chill and chat, maybe for half an hour I don't know, then other members who just finished their course come and join in. At this point, maybe someone was about to go home and have dinner with his loving family who awaits him with a grand feast garnished with spikes and ohsofresh turf on the sides, but then another chap hollers, "WOI! COME DRINK LA, I OPENED ANOTHER BOTTLE, WHY LEAVE SO SOON?!" After another half an hour or so, repeat this. And repeat. Repeat this on weekends too, for some.

I'm not really good at maths, but a snail knows if you add many half and hours, it becomes 3 years, no? And some of the families of these men, have young children at home. And some, don't. Because they are old. These old men don't care if there are young men who wants to go home and have dinner with their loving wives and young children. They just want to hang out and have alcohol parties. Mystery of life, don't men go home to have dinners with their family?

This could happen everyday of the week. But not for me. I made it clear that it is of utmost importance that we all have dinner together, AT the table, at least 365 times a year. Statistically, this is not possible because of the alcoholic golfers from the club.I kid, I kid. Seriously, they HAVE to keep themselves in the circle. I totally get it. Back in school, it was fun to hang out after school hours. We always 'stayed back' to hang out because we just wanted to chill and be in the cool people click and see who could stick around the longest. Is the club syndrome the same?

So this led me to ask the husband, "Am I the most anal wife among your friends' wives?" Anal here refers to the resentment associated with his club syndrome. Not the other kinky kind of anal. I mean, I give him the black face when he comes home late with the stench of liquor. I always wonder if the other wives are as anal as me, or are they Saint Stepford Wife. Do they welcome their drunk husbands home with a herbal tea drink and cookie, take off their stinky socks, give them a foot rub and blow job? Are they always angelic and perfectly okay with the not-coming-home-for-dinner/will-be-home-at-2am habitual announcements? I am baffled. I constantly ask myself, why am I such a bitch.

He said, "No, hunny-bunny. You are the best wife". You know what sweet words do to women right. We stopped the car and had hot high school sex. No, sorry, that didn't happen. He said, "I did get mad at you for giving me black faces when I had to go out"

The keywords here are had to. Have to, has to, had to. Men are biologically wired to go out to network and hunt. Just like cavemen. In the business world, networking is vital to your survival. So it is obligatory that he mingles. Every businessmen attest to this. I totally get it. You gotta sacrifice your liver and your precious family time. No biggie, because that ultimately puts food on the table. And a nice Gucci luggage for annual overseas vacations.

Again, this led me to argue that all these resentments are caused by several factors we didn't realize before.

Childhood Family Lifestyle
My dad ALWAYS came home for dinner. He was and still is a golfer, but he would come home to eat with me, or made sure I ate. He was a very social and outward-bound kinda guy. If he was at home, we'd watch action thriller movies together from his collection of Laser Disks. Remember them?! He'd take me on camping trips with a bunch of friends at Pulau Besar, Sibu and Tioman. He'd take me out on a weekend adventure, to somewhere but home. He'd take me to the club swimming pool. He'd take me to the driving range and teach me how to swing a neat 100m shot. I practically grew up in the club. So naturally, I expected the husband to do the same. The only disadvantage is that I can drive. Fuck independence.

I Have A Job
He has a job. I have a job. Fair. But I have to do most of the childcare, household errands, homey stuff. Imagine we don't have a domestic helper. *die* We both contribute to the household finance, so I'd expect that we share equal responsibility at home, be it time, energy and attention, mostly for the children. Fair? I mean, you think I don't want to go shopping on my own? You think I don't want to just sit peacefully with a good book for hours? Sometimes I do! But we mothers are one of a kind, we are physically and emotionally attached to our children but every now and then, we would like to break off a while and be who we are before we became mothers. The men get to do that almost everyday for hours on the green. They get to be themselves, not a father, not a husband, just themselves, as guys with balls and a stick. UN.FAIR.

I Am A Broken Home Kid
Secret's out. Beneath the perky sunshine Ally you see, I grew up not knowing what a happy family is. The husband hypothesize that I subconsciously want to prevent another broken home. Like I said, a family that eats together, stays together. Hence the insistence on the dinner thingy. Isn't he a genius.

I Don't Have Friends In JB
I think this one hit the jackpot. My friends are in Singapore, KL, Australia, Germany, Canada, U.S. pun ade. I have a few friends in JB I guess, but all are busy moms. Busy working moms, like myself. Hardly ever meet up for hi-tea or mahjong, or shopping. On the other hand, the husband is a social butterfly.

So there. Married couple talk for you. Actually, we have talked about this before, but not to this depth. And it feels so good and relieved! I got his perspective, he got mine. Thank you cousin-in-law for getting married and making us drive all the way to Perak so that we could have this long endless hearty chat under the moonlight :)

What Turns A Woman On

Lately, I see commercials with a new age rather good-looking well-buffed dad playing with his kids, or doing a house chore.

Do you know that's the top turn-on for women? ESPECIALLY mothers? There's something about the lethal combo of biceps, THE HAIR and domestication.

When the husband tuck the boys to bed at night or take the little one for night bike ride to chill him out, while I get to shower earlier and do whatever I need to do, my heart swells with adoration and appreciation. In other words, I'm his bitch.

That's why I LOVE this book, Porn For New Moms.

LOVE the way certain keywords are bold, like You, relax, take a nap, have a break.




It's hard to explain why. It's like these men could be out drinking/working/entertaining/playing their favorite sport/hanging out with the guys, BUT NO, he is at home, looking after the baby that you two SHARE together, not because he has to, but he WANTS to. O. EM. GEE. Can you hear my panties drop.

He's Not Perfect.

Husbands in Bed

What I'm about to say, has probably happened to many married ladies out there at some point of their married life. Some keep to themselves and carry on with their daily lives, some joke about it.

Last night, the husband and I were chatting a bit in bed before sleep. I had this uneasy feeling I didn't know why. We talked about some usual bla bla stuff and then came to the topic of Tiger Woods and cheating. There was a pause for a while. Then out of the blue, he said in a low guilty tone,

"I'm sorry"

Silence. My heart skipped a beat.

Then it hit me. HARD.

THE STINKIEST MOST CONCENTRATED PUNGENT MIND-DIZZYING FART.

Oh, the uneasy feeling I had was probably from the chilli fries, chocolate ice cream, bread, prunes and keropok I had simultaneously.

"What Do You Love About Thee?"

I'm an old lady. Being awake at 12.43am is a feat to me. I'm having mental block from designing my cards. I can't go to work tomorrow because Daniel's nanny is in hospital. She had chest pains and has to be monitored overnight. My heart nearly stopped when she told me. This amazing woman has been my saviour ever since Daniel was born. And I can't even think of what will happen if something happens to her. She sounded alright though...

I was watching a Singapore TV program called Rouge, and in one part of the program, this was asked.

"What do you love about your other half?"

My answer used to be a cliche. "I don't know why I love him, but I just love him". Bla.

Becoming an old lady, I started to have reasons and opinions for everything. So, I thought I'd share on what I love about my other half.

He's always there.
He's the most reliable person I've ever met.
He's simple and straightforward.
He's a great father to our child.
He washes the dishes.
He tucks me in every night.
He's goofy.
He loves me.

OK. This old lady gotta go to bed.

I Kiaped My Finger

Quote of the day: There's no such thing as a non-working mother. -Hester Mundis

I am still thinking about which camera to buy. And because of that, I couldn't take a picture of my new kitchen in UDA, the house I am going to move in. I didn't expect it would be finished this soon. The floors been re-tiled with new anti-slip earth tone ceramic tile and the old rotting cabinet doors have been replaced too.

I've also pulled the fastest electronic purchase of a 3-burner Pensonic stove hub, only RM299! I looked around, chose one, paid for it, and brought it back for the workers to fix it in.

Daniel had fun just being lugged around. Hubbie was called last minute to an early morning golf. So, basically, I was doing the running around, the lugging around, the kitchen supervision when my father had to leave halfway because of golf as well. And Flo came at the right time, when I didn't have my pad! How cool is that. Surprisingly, I did not make a scene when I went home. I knew he felt bad for not being there.

Anyways, now, I have to get rid of one million things in the kitchen that came from my grandmother's era. I know some are worth keeping like the old traditional plates and bowls, but then if you keep one, you keep two, and then more and more. I'm really want to simplify and minimize! Less consumption, less waste! And not to mention, lots of scrubbing! The surfaces are sticky from the years and years of cooking, but not cleaning after the mess. Yucks right.

Finally I finished watching Sex & The City at 3am this morning, same time when the hubbie came home from yam cha with his friends. Also around the same time he came home from yam cha 2 nights ago. "Hou fan ah", he told me last night after dinner. It's been quite a year for him. The semi-relocation to KL, the expectations, the hope, the crash of hope, the another hope etc... I think he really wants to achieve something. Does turning 30 make men feel like it's time to achieve something in their life?

I slept in Daniel's room last night, with my iPod on, listening to some of my favourite 'daydreaming' songs. It's just one of those nights I feel disgusted sleeping next to hubbie. Just uncomfortable you know. He thinks I'm asleep when he comes home very late, but the truth is, I can't sleep until I know he's safely home. And of course, the best part is, this doesn't happen often, but when it does, it usually happens when I have PMS. What good timing.

Then comes the fun part when I conjure all sorts of ideas to spite him or make him feel really sorry. I'm vindictive when Flo is in town ya know. But almost always, I never execute my brilliant plans which victory will be on my side for sure. I know it's childish and petty. But like I said, those are just ideas and imagination, and it makes me feel better. But sometimes, I wished he'd knew about the war that's been tearing my sanity apart.

I feel sorry for the men sometimes. The fact that he does everything right for her many times over the years suddenly becomes unsignificant because of one thing he didn't do right, and that one wrongdoing is magnified 100X. Ladies, I know you're smiling.

But don't worry, at the end of the day, she recognizes all the blessings and love she has and live happily ever after.

Sleep

Last night, Daniel and I watched Baby Mozart, and dozed off at 10.15pm. It's the music, I tell you. It's a rare occasion that I doze off at this godly hour. It felt good knowing I slept a decent amount, but funny leh, while driving to work this morning, I still feel sleepy. Too much sleep I guess.

So, while I slept, Paul took care of everything that I used to be in charge of. He ironed his own shirt, carried the little one back to his own room, set my alarm, charged my mobile phone, and went out to fill up my car.

The little one caressed me before we dozed off, like I was the baby. He has such loving little hands.

What an amazing night, my two favourite boys took care of me... must buy 4D.

Lonesome Bug

Quote of the day: A balanced diet is a biscuit in each hand.

The man of the house is off to Beijing for a company retreat, actually he left for KL first since Sunday evening, and won't be back in 2 weeks time. *secretly plotting my own 'retreat'*

Before he left, he did something that made me smile. He told me this, "Darling, in ANY moment that you feel unhappy about my current travelling arrangement, just tell me ok. I will immediately find a way or discuss with my boss to stop it. Yes, this is good for my career, but it won't mean anything if it makes you unhappy and if it jeopardize our relationship. YOU ARE MY PRIORITY you know?"

How not to melt...

The truth is, I'm totally comfortable with it. In fact, it makes me kinda happy because I get more time for myself. But hearing that from him just...ssiiiigggh, I dunno, pushed all the right buttons. So sometimes, women do like to hear what they want to hear, or THINK they want to hear.

I'm incurable...