Parental Crime – To Have Or Not To Have
So you just got married. And what else is there to do afterwards if not to have a child?...
Parental Crime – To Have Or Not To Have
So you just got married. And what else is there to do afterwards if not to have a child? Why indeed? If your answers are:
a) It’s the natural thing to do. After marriage, comes children
b) My parents are itching to hold their first newborn grandchild
c) I’d like to have a miniature version of me
d) God has told me to go forth and multiply
e) All my friends already have three kids and I feel left behind
f) It will make our love stronger
g) I want to have babies because they’re so cute
h) I want to make the world a better place
Then you should really rethink, because,
a) It’s irrelevant to say something is natural without knowing why it is. You can’t just flap around, insisting “Because, because it is!” in a manner of a parrot.
b) Do you live your live for your parents or for yourself? If your folks are so lonely, get them a Golden Retriever or enroll them to the local bingo games.
c) Selfish reason to have a miniature version of yourself, why not just wait until cloning is legal?
d) Stop living in the Old Testament era. Mother Nature actually pleads mankind to stop overpopulating the world – why else do you think there are so many natural disasters happening?
e) So you have no mind of your own and you just do whatever it is that other people are doing. Charming.
f) Do you have a dog? No? Then get one and see what happens. If your husband can’t be bothered to take the dog out early in the morning, chance is he won’t be bothered to change the diapers at three o’clock in the morning either. Stop thinking that he will turn into Ross – that wimpy guy from Friends.
g) Cute? Err…they do grow up you know? And by the time they are thirteen and screaming ‘I-hate-you‘s to your face, don’t even lie and say that you don’t regret having them. All parents say they don’t but they act otherwise.
h) If you want to make this world to be a better place, start from yourself first and see how that goes.
Parental Crime – Mummy dearest
So I was in Aksara bookshop in Plaza
Wait a minute.
Two nannies? For one child? Jayzuz, woman. I know you are rich, but two nannies? Come on. What, do you need one for feeding and the other one to clean up all the mess afterwards? And what do you do when those two girls are busy taking care of your child? Just stand there looking good and relieved for not having baby puke all over your Marc Jacobs?
Whatever happened to good parenting? How can these people think that it’s okay to give birth and hand over the responsibility to someone else(s)? And don’t give me that crap about the pain of labor – they all have Caesarean. I just know it. If they can’t even take the responsibility to look after their own offspring, I doubt they can actually bear the pain of delivering their child the natural way.
I’ve been noticing this Nanny Thing everywhere I go. Mostly in huge luxury shopping malls, where the mother will be engrossed flicking through hangers after hangers of clothes while the nanny is busy struggling to wipe melted ice-cream from the toddler’s chin. And you’d be surprised to know that there are children as old as ten who are still accompanied by their nannies.
When I was ten, I was perfectly able to wash my own hands – and chin – in the sink. When I was thirteen, I knew how to wash, iron and fold my own clothes. My mammy taught me well. I remember how she used to put the guilt on me whenever I did something not to her liking, in which she would say something like, “How could you do this to your poor mother? I gave you the gift of life! I raised you since you were a baby, with my own bare hands! I fed you and took care of you, woke up in the middle of the nights for you and having puked up and pooped all over, and this is how you repay me?”
Understandably but quite annoyingly, mothers have the rights to say those things, because they sacrificed so much for us. That’s why we are more prone to guilt on mothers, because they are the ones who spend the most time with us since we were born. While our fathers generally would be the breadwinner, the mothers were the ones waking up at one, three and four in the evening, feeding us, singing lullabies for us and be the last face we saw when we went to sleep.
But now all those roles are simply replaced by the presence of nannies – of whom unfortunately the child would feel more secure with, and thus come the worrying feeling of the mothers that they are unrecognizable to their own children because of the lack of time they are willing to spend.
I’ve seen it happen. I even have friends who expressed the very same fear to me. Therefore, I am thoroughly unsurprised to find that these children will, in the future, grow up to be selfish, spoilt brat who thinks that the world owes them something. Why? Because they are raised with the notion that must have everything they want, which is evident by the parents who, in making up their lack of time spending with their children, alternate to lavishing them with junks that cost more than the monthly salary of an average nanny.
Thinking back on the daughter and the parents with the two nannies I saw at the bookstore, I can just imagine the future daily conversation that this mother and daughter will have;
“Annabelle, finish your meal, dear.”
“No, it’s foul. I hate Brussels sprouts. I’ve told you that, like, a gazillion times (sneering).”
“(Bored and slightly pissed off) Behave. Now finish your meal and do your homework.”
“No! Just leave me alone! (Cutlery clatters)”
“(gasp and enraged with pre-menopausal hormones) How dare you speak like that to me??? I. Am. Your. Mother! I raised you since you were a child. I fed you-No. Wait a minute. I didn’t. Your nanny fed you. Well, I cleaned up all your messes since you were in diapers-No. (Faltering) Actually, I didn’t. Ok. This conversation never happens.”
Book Hunting and Snob-spotting
During the weekend, my beau and I went to the Book Fair at JCC. Because we left during lunch-time, the traffic was insane – which came as no surprise – and even when we were a few minutes far from the place, I was already busting to go to the toilet that I took a constant dislike to men for being able to wee anywhere and the sight of green grasses on the sides of the road made me feel even more furious.
Anyways – we got there safe and sound and as soon as we got the entrance ticket and passed through the entrance door, I begged my beau to let me out of the car and with his approval, sprinted out and hunt for the toilets – eyes narrowing and focusing on little signboards depicting two people with one of them doning a skirt – and the state of the toilet was nauseating beyond reality. It was Jakarta Convention Centre, for god’s sake. You’d think it would take on a more elegant approach to cleanliness. But then again, the airport toilets were even worse.
The Book Fair. It was like being stuck in Mangga Dua at its highest peak. There were lots of people everywhere. There were sweaty, disgusting looking guys who stared at me up and down – nevermind my boyfriend was right beside me! – and there were girls who reeked of absolute horrors of the worst body odour. I had to walk around covering my nose with my fingers as if there were dumpster bins all around me. But despite all those traumatic obstacles, we managed to find a decent architectural book on houses, 50% off from the original price which was half a million rupiah. It was heavy as armloads of bricks, but what a bargain! I also found a good book on illustrating, but it wasn’t half off, and I was hanging onto a Marian Keyes novel I’d been wanting to get but decided to drop it at the last minute.
When we got home, I told my beau I regretted not getting Keyes’ novel, in which beau kindly offered to go again the next day, which was Sunday. I told him I’d better go to a proper bookstore that sold imported stuff.
So we headed off to Plazza Semanggi, but since the last time I went there was sometime in 2005, I was a bit nervous I’d get lost. For all I knew, it was easier getting to Plaza
“Yeah, lets! I’ve never been on it!” Beau’s eyes gleamed with excitement. That’s the thing I love about him- he is always up for anything. He’s not the type of guy who’d go, “Oh..uhmm…but it’s the hottest at this time of the day…can’t we just drive there? Why leave the car here and catch the bus…there would be sweaty people and it would be so crowded and I hate all that shit.” or “Are you mad??? Whatever the hell would you want to do that for?”
You know what I mean?
When we got to Aksara and found my book I was delighted beyond relief. Beau also spotted the book that he had purchased the day before, still full price and nevertheless he was happy upon this surprising discovery. We were all set to go back to Semanggi, but because I’d been walking too fast- bad habit I couldn’t let go since I developed it being overseas and all – wearing my new shoes and everything, I was getting blisters. So I had to get some band-aids from the chemist nearby. And this is where it pissed me off.
I was asking for the shop-assistant who was all beyond eager to serve, for band-aids and within two seconds she reappeared holding up five different types of band-aids so that I could choose one for my preferrence. I was on the cash register waiting to pay, when out of nowhere this snooty old woman distracting all the other cashiers with her stupid questions and requests on things that were common sense for normal people.
First, she was asking the cashier about pads. She got one from Whisper, which she seemed to have picked up from the rack right next to her. But she kept bothering the assistant to get her another type of pad even though she claimed she only knew one type of it.
And because she was all made up so heavily the foundation on her face might have fallen over if someone bumped her from behind and she was holding a Gucci tote-bag and looking expensive from head to toe, all the assistants ignored the other customers – including me, who was purchasing a Rp. 3000.- worth of band-aid and originally just wanting to get in and out of that place in the mere three minutes. But because of the snobby, snooty demanding cake-faced lady, I ended up being there for fifteen minutes. That old bag had all the stuff on the cash register, already paid and in the plastic carry bag, and she was still adding things up on the go. What the fuck.
I decided that I hated the place. For all its worth, it was full of useless eejits and superficial bullshitness that made people who weren’t over made-up and all labeled up from head to toe looked so out of place. Because underneath all those expensive get-up, they were actually not more smarter, nor substantial than me. All the money in the world couldn’t buy manners and classiness that so little people were willing to present there.
The more I spent time in
For My Other Half
This is my December
This is my time of the year
This is my December
This is all so clear
This is my December
This is my snow covered home
This is my December
This is me alone
And I give it all away
Just to have somewhere
To go to
Give it all away
To have someone
To come home to
Funny how the first time I heard this song, I was curious about it all the way. It was on the radio, and I was sitting on the passenger seat of my dad’s car, about to go some place I couldn’t even remember. At that time, I didn’t even know you. But who would’ve thought that the song would be your whole life’s story. At that time, I just really liked your song. Who would’ve known it was the first song that got you hooked to Linkin Park.
When you lend me your Design Basics Index and told me to keep it instead, I didn’t understand why you would want to give something that was so precious to you to someone like me who had less chance of making it happen. Who would’ve thought that at that time you had given up your dreams of becoming someone you want to be, and instead chose to work the 9-5 job that your ex-girlfriend was insisting to be the better for you both.
When you gave me Reanimation, and I again asked why, since you told me how difficult it was for you to get it, you said that there was no point giving something to me it that gift was not something special that you held dearest to – because if it was so easy to get, then it would have not meant anything. Right then I was intrigued by this thought. Clearly, I hadn’t really understood the concept of giving, until you revealed it to me.
On the second of December, in the midst of the rain and the racing against time, I spent a few precious hours with you. Little did we know that was the evening that would change our lives forever. I felt like I’d gone through a lifetime of journey, only finding you on my doorstep and me saying, “Where have you been all this time? I’ve almost given up in believing that you are here all along.”
I knew your soul like the back of my hand and I saw you so much clearly than anyone else in this world. Beneath all the exterior you hid so well, you were me and I were you. Surrounded by many others who kept reassuring me that I was somewhat useless, you matter-of-factly said to me that no matter where it was, a diamond would still be a diamond, even if it were covered with muds.
You, were the missing piece that I had been looking for, the reason why I felt so empty even when everything else was so bountiful.
I knew then that I was forgiven. Like the missing sheep that had left the flock, I was found and I was led home. I may not be perfect. In fact, I have done many things that I’m not pleased with. a life history I still cringe about whenever I think about it. Thinking that because of what I did I would never deserve anything good ever again. That I didn’t deserve any of it.
But I was wrong. I was loved, all along. I knew that now, because of you.
Growing Pains
My puppy, Micah is growing up. This is evident since the night he decided to make a mess on my bed and I was so pissed off I locked him outside overnight. He did seem a little sorry but I bet he still doesn’t know what he has done wrong. I’ve done a bit of googling and apparently dogs don’t spite. If you scold him and punish him, he’ll be like, “Whot? I’ve done nothing wrong, just being a normal dog, innit?”
Anyhow. He’s eight months old now and he used to be such an overactive dog we all wondered whether he would ever be out of energy. He followed us everywhere, ran and jump around as if on Prozac 24/7. We used to let him off the leash so he would explore the whole house and just generally be a dog by sniffing around, going up and down the stairs all he liked, and refusing to come to us unless we called him for ten times, and even that needed a bit of an effort which consisted of squeezing plastic bags – he somehow associated the sound to packageful of snacks – and making chewing sounds from our mouths as if we were eating something interesting or pretending to run up stairs and close the door, as if leaving him alone to bed. I remember the first day we brought him home, we were overwhelmed with exhaustion of having to play and mind this little furry thing that moved so much.
When we first got him, we tried to housebreak him by using newspapers around the house and clearly, after eight months of trying, such habit had failed to accomplish, because he still preferred to litter anywhere but on the newspaper. A day without noticing small lumps of turds on the floor would be such bliss, and that was very, very rare, I could tell you that much. Even I started to worry that my dog was in fact, lacking the intelligence of such normal dogs, and got even more anxious to think that perhaps it was my lacking the intelligence to teach him. That behind our backs, Micah had been complaining and muttering annoyingly in doggy language, saying that it was us who were the dumb-arses, not him.
So about a week ago, I did more googling and it turned out that trying to housebreak a dog by using newspapers as his littering area would in fact slow down his understanding that it was actually not okay for him to litter in the house. Moreover, by using the newspaper, it made the dog think it was okay to litter, despite the presence of the paper to filter the dirt.
Most people took their dogs out every now and then, usually after sleeping and having a meal, and I wasn’t a big fan of taking my dog for a walk because there were a couple of wild dogs out there who seemed vicious enough to tear my sweet little mutt apart. Also, I wasn’t very keen on waiting and urging my dog to ‘piddle’ – it just seemed silly. But alas, what has to be done has to be done, and I had to improvise a bit by using the backyard, which was technically not a backyard at all because there was not a patch of grass to be found whatsoever. But it was better spot than having him litter all over the house.
I’ve been doing that lately and now Micah has seemed to improved so much. Not only it is a proud moment watching him litter in the correct place – I even felt like I’d achieved something worthy here – but the house no longer smelled like turds.
I’ve also noticed that he seems to sleep a lot. When I’m watching the TV, he would contently lie down next to me and within the next five minutes, be sound asleep peacefully. But as soon as I make a small movement, he’d be awake and follow me around like a second shadow. It doesn’t matter where I am, he seems to be able to nod off easily and at first I was worried that he might be sick but after another act of googling, I found out this was perfectly normal. Not to mention that he seems to sleep even more deeply when I put on very, very loud music. He even sleeps right in front of the speakers and doesn’t seem to be affected by the noise at all. I rarely let him off the leash now because apparently young dogs are not to be let off the leash until they can behave responsibly and this is to be expected at least eighteen months or so. But Micah seems happy enough to be in a leash. In fact when it is time to piddle, he is happy to be attached to the leash, and I feel like my dog is for once a normal one for being so excited by the sight of his leash.
I used to dream of having a dog that would happily lie down next to me, being all placid and calm, and now that I do, it is such a surreal experience, I still feel slightly odd about it.
Parental Crime – Mummy dearest
So I was in Aksara bookshop in Plaza Indonesia the other day. I was busy scanning the...
Book Hunting and Snob-spotting
During the weekend, my beau and I went to the Book Fair at JCC. Because we left during...
For My Other Half
This is my December This is my time of the year This is my December This is all so...
Growing Pains
My puppy, Micah is growing up. This is evident since the night he decided to make a mess...