A Mother’s Monologue

Today, T1′s school bag was particularly heavy as she sent back ALL her books after exam week last week. I struggled to pull her trolley bag down hill on the bumpy road and wondered just how long the bag would last should it be subject to daily abuse such as this and as usual, when we arrived at the school gate, I gave her my customary kiss and hug and gentle words of wisdom, but at the back of my mind, I was anxious about her bringing that bag down a flight of stairs to her classroom. The bag is bigger than her, for goodness sake. And almost felt heavier too!

But before I even released her, a prefect of perhaps 14 years old, came up to us and asked if T1 would like some help bringing down her school bag. I love that school for that reason. Everyone is trained to be so polite and well-mannered. Everyone is taught to volunteer and be happy about it. Everyone is taught to work hard, play hard – exactly MY philosophy in life……

The other day, this biker in front of us was sending text messages whilst riding his bike. Now I’ll admit that sometimes I text too when I’m on the road, but I only ever do it at a red traffic light not whilst I’m driving!!! How do your eyes be at 2 places at the same time? He’s bound to goof up one of these days!

All too often, I’ve known young couples getting married before they’re remotely ready only to find themselves in a twist of drama and worries before the year is out. Some get married from unplanned pregnancies, some from insecure girls wanting to find security and some from girls worried of getting past their shelf life. I know! Isn’t it horrid that society can label a girl as past her shelf life???

For whatever reason a girl chooses to be married, I think that it ultimately has to be that she is in love and loves the boy wholely and entirely and is SO SURE that THIS is the person she wants to spend her entire life with. And of course, that the boy makes her HAPPY. COMPLETELY happy. Not a single micro-drop of doubt lingering in her entire body. And I guess if a girl cannot find that, then she should not marry yet.

But sometimes, you get a girl who is so insecure that she would always have doubts and always have insecurities and always wonder what if? What does that girl do then? Life is a gamble. Marriage is a gamble. There are no certainties of course, but with all the data that she has at hand, she can intelligently calculate her risks and returns. And if she doesn’t know how, then perhaps she should consult with some level-headed beings. Ask 10 friends to play the devil’s advocate and tell her why she should and why she shouldn’t and then ultimately think for herself, if this is really it. Or if she is fooling herself. Because really, there is no point fooling yourself that this is what you want if deep down you know your heart is somewhere else, or waiting for more, because you will ultimately end up being the biggest loser.

This post goes out to all the single ladies out there, waiting for their Prince Charming, searching the globe, dreaming and counting the days. It is never best to settle for anything less than your heart deserves. If you never get married, SO BE IT. It is much better to be single and unmarried than to be married to the wrong guy.

NO MATTER WHAT SOCIETY SAYS.

For the last 200 days, the Hubs had rushed the school run with T1 but now that he’s home, I’ve volunteered to drive her instead. Anything to keep me away from the drug addict at home. My baby, that is. I wonder where she gets it from as neither me nor the Hubs possess any addictive traits. Whatever vices we indulged in in our frivolous youth have been chucked. We are both strong that way, so it rather boggles us that T2 is such a hard-core boob addict. Or perhaps its sheer will of steel. Either way, I’m screwed.

I wake at 6am now to get a healthy breakfast ready for T1 (she is so spoilt with a 14 day rotation menu) and get myself dressed (or at least brush my teeth…..what, you mean you don’t drive your kids to school in your jammies??), then do a 10 minute drive in moderate traffic to school with the background banter of an almost 6 year old. She talks about her friends at school, the girl who told her that she needed to suck her toes every night before bed in order to do get 100% for her exam papers (see how competitive they already are at this age? We’re not talking about an A, we’re talking one hundred percent!), the boy who gets his work wrong all the time but fails to admit defeat; she talks about her teachers, how one is a tiger, another being half tiger and that there is only one teacher who is human.

After we park, we have a 200 meter downhill walk to school whilst the rest of the lazy ass drivers and parents (I put drivers before parents because it seems there are more of them, hence their hierarchy) follow the car queue that lead their cars right up to the front gate for drop off. We don’t do that. Truth be told, the Hubs started this trend and threatened me to continue it as I needed the exercise. Did you really think I’d be one to walk? At first, I moaned and I was shocked on my 1st day sending T1 to school for an entire parade of teachers and prefects were standing at the drop off gate to greet the arrival of students. WTF? If you’re dressed in your jammies without make-up, this is NOT funny.

You’d almost wished that the concrete floor would swallow you up. Forever.

Fast forward 2 days later and I’m really ENJOYING THE SCHOOL RUN. Why?

Reason #1- I checked my baby into rehab. Being with the Hubs alone IS rehab.

Reason #2 – It gives me one-on-one time with T1, whom I’ve neglected for the past 2 years. I’ve realised just how much I’ve missed her. Whilst walking down the hill to school this morning amidst the morning scent of wet leaves and misty dew, T1 said she thought she was very smart. God Bless Her! She doesn’t get any more humble than that! I asked why she thought so and her reasoning was that her favourite subjects were Math and Science. Still puzzled, I probed further so she explained, the whole world is made of Math and Science. Look at the the car? It needs gas, right? Otherwise it can’t move. How many wheels does it need? What would happen if it had 3 wheels? Not balanced…..Does my breathing get faster now since we’re walking to school? And look, people had to measure the road to find out how big to build the pavement, right? And she went on and on AND ON….. on her observation of Math and Science during our short walk to the school gate before we were hit by school security – the Nazis of Malaysia.

Reason #3 – It forces me to at least look decent when I get out of the house. I don’t know a lazier Mom than me, and I’ve been harassed many a time to do something about the way I dress but nothing has been enough motivation for me to make that effort. Not even a psychiatrist can convince me. Nor a million bucks. Well, maybe a million bucks if it was in pound sterling and already deposited into my bank account. But with the school principal staring at you every morning with her entire entourage of staff and prefects in line, zooming in on every walking mass of heat that passed through the threshold, there is pressure. Oh yeah….and I don’t want to embarrass T1, ya know. Just in case she gets asked where her maid is from?

Reason #4 – The best reason of all is that I get to give T1 a great, long……BIG kiss and a tight, long….bear hug before I release her to the army of educators. I am of course, referring to the Nazis. It makes everyone envious. And it makes her feel so loved. I can tell because as she walks past them, she is absolutely beaming with pride. She walks tall, head up, smiling…….and watching that little butt sway from left to right with her knapsack on her back in that arrogant swagger, it just makes my heart beat a little faster. Then after about fifty little steps, she always stops and turns back to wave, and there I’ll be, waving back like a mad lunatic with this great big grin on my face.

The bond we have, my T1 and I, is indescribable…….MAGIC.

Ever since I was old enough to comprehend the concept of help, I have been practicing it without much thought, from doing my classmates homework for her at Standard One (although I probably didn’t know then that I wasn’t actually helping her!) to playing the piano for the handicapped children in Brickfields to simple day to day tasks, like if my Mom asked me to pick something up or if a friend wanted a favour. I’ve even gone as far as doing free design work for friends (taking hours and hours away from my family time without getting paid and incurring expenses instead!) and arranging meetings between parties resulting in multi-million dollar deals closed (without me getting a single cent because I’m dumb like that!). Well, that was then.

Whenever I was approached for help, it was simple. I’d just help. If I really couldn’t, then I’d just say so.

After entering the world wide web, I have received emails from strangers to not so strangers to regular readers, who have their questions on this, that and the other; and it has never crossed my mind to disregard any one of them. I’d help answer their questions to the best of my ability and if ever there was a question so personal, I’d still reply their email, perhaps not giving so much detail, or just making a joke out of it. Because really, you can still answer an email or answer a question without answering it, can you not? Well, I learnt that from our politicians……

Yet, I myself, hardly ever ask for help. I’m more the sort who will either accept your help or decline it. But I won’t ask for it. So if I were to actually ASK for help, it meant that a cloud of desperation was about to pour down. And to think that in the off chance that I do, I get rejected? Perhaps that is why I never like asking for help to start off with. I must remind myself that not everyone is selfless, not everyone is giving, and not everyone is generous. But why not? Wouldn’t the world be a much nicer place if everyone WAS so helpful???

I live in an idealistic world. A little bubble floating in space. Well, I can pray still that one day, people will see the better side of things and will help. I mean, it’s not like I’m asking for money, or a job, or someone to flog my kids off to. I’m just asking for a little help………

*tiny voice* help

One thing I am most grateful for is that you, my readers are loyal and keep coming back for more. So thank you. And I must also thank many of you, who are indeed VERY helpful.

Today, I’m just a teeny weeny little bit disappointed at one large person, who turns out to be not so large after all. But just for today. I’ll be over it tomorrow.