Fourth time lucky?

So apparently fourth times the charm… After numerous attempts for my mum trying desperately to come home earlier she is finally here…

It has seriously been madness the issues that she’s gone through because whole she was away she did not realize that her passport was expiring! So that when she did finally book her return date (originally meant to be early December) she was told that she would need a new passport and would need to organize it before leaving!

Then there were issues with the fact that she was using a different surname on some of her ID – then she arranged to come back not realizing that all the information had not yet been processed! So forgive me if after three different times I plan to go to the airport (at which with every attempt I am literally bursting at the seams with stress & anxiety) & then literally get a call 2 hours before leaving the house then (the other time) half an hour before leaving the house; if I think that this time I cannot take another day off work I mean seriously – how many times can I use the excuse “I need the day off because I need to pick my mum up from the airport?” before they just look at me & roll their eyes then tell me where to go? maybe this time I’ll let her catch a cab home & just visit her there? In all honesty I did think of telling her that hubby had the day off if she kicked up a stink, but she surprisingly was pretty good about catching a taxi!

Anyway – here I am at her place with the thousands of butterflies in my tummy to keep me company & the knowledge that my mum will criticize what I’m wearing, if I’ve lost or gained weight, if I’m too tanned/too pale & the fact I have nail polish on my toes and she’s not here… Her stuff is here so I know she’s actually come back & the car is still in the garage… And yet she’s out… So I thought I’d chill here for a bit and see what happens in an hour… Push comes to shove I’ll take myself to dinner!

I do hope you’re all well… More info regarding the chronicles of (my) mum to come….

Heading off…

As I type this now, I am in the backseat of my father in laws car on the way to the airport with my wonderful husband… We are off to Bali for 10 days of rest, relaxation, mindless nothingness by the pool & hot stone massages!

I am so excited! I know you’re all going to say “but you just came back in April!” yes, BUT that was a whole group of us & this is to celebrate our anniversary!

Woo-hoo!!!!!!!

I’ll see you all when I get back… Stay safe, pray that we’re safe & I’ll chat to you all soon.

xx

I Get Things Done!

Its been awhile since I wrote anything – thanks so much Tasneem for bringing to my attention my lack of writing and updating! I don’t think it’s been all because of the “Hiba situation” as for the most part she is certainly out of my mind!

So what else has been happening? Lately I have been engrossed with the “Family Bali Trip” – comprising of roughly 3 weeks in Bali. We are all going from different lengths of time: we all leave together, Adam and I, Tony and Teena (my in-laws), Charles (Mr A’s uncle), his wife Sam and their 2 children + my best friend Susi. Charles, Sam and the 2 as well as Susi are staying for 10 days, once they leave Tony & Teena then stay on an additional 2 nights and then once they leave Mr A and I stay on for an extra 5 days for us to (finally) have our alone time! We are SO excited!

Let me tell you that planning this trip has been an effort in amongst itself! my mother in law is a social butterfly – which is both great and tiring; I am a helper and like to organise things (I think it comes from having to arrange and organise everything for mum in recent years PLUS a knowledge of if I arrange and organise things then at least I know it gets done!) which means that a LOT of running around was done!

When we first thought of this trip as being a group excursion there was a point where it was getting bigger than Ben Hur – Teena and Mr A kept inviting people and family with other people consistently emailing me to find out how much to would cost, changing dates, asking a million questions about the hotel… you catch my drift! At one point the people count was at 14 from numerous other states in Australia…. My poor travel agent deserved a bonus for all the constant changes I was having to arrange!

Not to mention the issue of payments! OMG – do you think all payments were made on time? hell to the no! Do you think that I emailed and SMS’ed everyone saying “next payment is due on XY date” – of course…. Do you think this occurred? No! Ethnics I tell ya – we are on a timetable all of our own – its almost like a due date is purely a guide and definitely flexible! Apart from Susi everyone made payments late – the funniest thing is Susi and I are the youngest (do all the arrangements for both Mr A & I – hehe; aren’t I a good wifey?)! It must be because we both work for government departments that has ensured our timeliness – that or the fact we both come from ethnic backgrounds where we are keenly aware the stereotype is that we are never on time with anything and have thus decided to rebel the stereotypical ethnic mentality!

So FINALLY everything was booked and paid for! I picked up all tickets – Teena then asks me if I have arranged holiday insurance for us all and how are we getting to the airport! Hmm – me thinks my keen organisational skills have rendered everyone else in the family inept to do anything else!

Mr A overheard this discussion along with the ‘list’ of things that Teena has planned to get done whilst in Bali (but that is another story) and decided to intercept:

Mr A: what are you doing mum?

MIL (mother in law): What do you mean? There are just a few things I need to get done while we are away and I just wanted to make sure if everything for the trip was organised…

Mr A: no, that’s not what I mean – I married her already – she’s my support crutch not yours… get your own!

MIL: what are you going on about?

Mr A: my wife does stuff for me – that’s the rule; get dad to do stuff for you! if you tire MY wife out with organising stuff for you who’s going to help me? no one – ask dad; that’s why you married him…

MIL: But tony doesn’t speak Indonesian and he won’t want to come everywhere with me…

Mr A: that’s not my fault… you have to make him… she’s mine… and you can’t have her all the time…

Haha…. Mr A has a thought process all this own!

Wanna see some photos???

Hey people – I have FINALLY gotten off my proverbial and gotten all my holiday snaps on CD! I have posted my most recent exploits (+ photos taken in the last 2 weeks in a separate [protected] blog post) which include family dinners, my birthday and swimming with dolphins in Part1 of the Bali Photos… as you may also see it IS password protected. SO for those who do not yet have the password and would like it send me your requests (with the obvious email address) and I shall give you the details!

To those who already have the password – enjoy the viewing… feel free to add your comments and I’ll be popping more on the blog in the next couple days (it’s late and I am tired – me thinks this may be sufficient for tonight!)

PS: Part II of the Bali photos include the muddiness that Mr A got me into – Buggying is a dirty pastime! Pictures of us white water rafting (i still cannot believe that Mr A managed to convince me to so that) and more holidaying activities!

Protected: Part 1: Bali Photos (dinner + dolphins)

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Mr A Gets Promoted!

At First I didn’t actually see it this way – a promotion. It took Susi and I chatting about the situation and chuckling of at the madness of it all to realise that it is, indeed some kind of a promotion i guess!

Remember how aaaagggeeesss ago i mentioned how a male family member came to Perth to visit? Remember how I mentioned how mum has high hopes for said guy and then all hopes were dashed when both people’s personalities conflicted? Well; when he left Australia he had left some of his luggage here and had asked that we send it back to him. “We” became ‘MY’ job and my mum cut all sort of responsibility on grounds that since they had had an argument that clearly the responsibility would be mine. And so (yet again) i sucked it up and dealt with it.

I told him that I would more than happy to send his (22kg of) luggage once he had transferred me some money – I mean, didn’t get me wrong here; I have no problems sending 1, 2, 5, or even up to 10kg worth of luggage but aft3er a few quick quotes online I discovered that sending 22kg worth of luggage was hardly cheap… plus i have a house to pay for (does anyone realise that porcelain slab tiles are NOT cheap?)

So after nearly a YEAR later – yes, nearly a year the guy transfers me some money – far be it for me to tell him that since the start of financial year that the cost of sending said items would be increased. Whatever; I was just happy to have it off my hands (and not have to hear anymore about it from my mum… again and again… and again!).

Everything was organised through Discount Excess Luggage – yes it is some shameless advertising but the man was really great (for more details head to http://www.discountexcessbaggage.com.au/) and the prices were really competitive! The plan was that he would pick up said item from my mum’s place; weigh item, call me and I would give him my credit card details. What actually happened was that he went to pick up said item and mum would not take any of the paperwork from him?

The poor guy had no idea what to do – i spoke to my mum later and apparently the rationale in her mind was that as NONE of it was her responsibility that she would not take ANY of the paperwork. That this man HAD to give me the paperwork – she told the poor guy where i worked and said that he should drop it off to me!

When the guy (his name was Laurie by the way) said “you can give it to your daughter when you see her” apparently she said a few things – mum told me that she had told him that i do not always come home and that sometimes i sleep at my friends house!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When I told her that she KNEW that I most definitely was not staying with a “friend” and that I am staying with my in-laws and my husband she went onto say “no – I tell him you sometimes stay with your friend; what for I make bad my daughter’s name? I not want to tell him that you won’t come home to see your mother”

I mean let’s just be serious here for a second – as IF the Caucasian man is seriously caring what I do with my life and where I am living! I mean – WHO would he gossip this ‘vital’ tid-bit of information to??? If anything, her behaviour has probably made him go “yep, I’d be living with my friend too sweetie!!!”

Anyway; although at first I was a little frustrated, annoyed and flabbergasted by her incessant denial Susi and I realised that in some twisted way she had finally acknowledged Mr A’s existence as being something more than (how she affectionately refers to him as) ‘Satan’.

And it only took us this long!

Another 3 years and he’ll be my boyfriend/fiancé!

My mum – the QUEEN of guilt!

I spoke to my mum last night. I can’t explain how gut-wrenching it is. How there is a largest part of me that is certain that what I am doing is purely a last resort… but then she gets to me. Makes me feel terrible – as though that because I am doing what she wants me to do I certainly not pleasing my mother and therefore going to hell.

Isn’t that just beyond words? Just seeing that typed there makes me feel anxious and overwhelmed. At what stage does a Muslim mother need to step off the methodology of enforcing obedience and commence some sort of acceptance?

I see Mr A and I am beyond grateful of having him in my life – of having someone who gets me and understands me. Who loves me and expects nothing more than to make me happy – how I think sometimes he doesn’t listen to me in when I natter about Islam and yet later on down the track proves me wrong by coming out with concepts of Islam. He amazes me – and yet my mum can’t accept this.

Yesterday I got some insight into mum – how she thinks that if she stays strong in her resolution to oppose this that somehow I’ll change my mind. I am shocked by things – that she thinks I would just change my mind? Like I’d just walk through the door and say “oops, I made a mistake but I’m back now and all is well” really? What kind of fantasy-land is that? She says that since she’s gone to Hajj that Allah has given her more strength. I perturbed – I don’t know what to say anymore; she’s has an uncanny knack for making doubt things – she says that one of my cousins (who I confide in) may say one thing to me but that they cannot believe I’ve done this – that to her I am appalling… and I don’t know what to say. Is my mum trying to make me second guess Fifi? Would she say that?

I hate it – I hate how when I don’t call her for a couple days I want to check up on her and make sure she’s ok. I want to touch base. But then when I do talk/listen to her I wan to get off the phone ASAP and hate how I feel afterwards. I think about how it’s been like this for years – how its not really because of Mr A. that our dysfunction has been here a looonnngg time; but she doesn’t see any of that – she doesn’t see all the times I lied saying I was on campus (at uni) when my classes were really only 4 times a week. She doesn’t see all the days off I took from work but pretended to have training days, all the times my uni days seem to stretch on for longer than they needed to be so I wouldn’t have to home til later; how I would actually purposely choose tutorials at 8.30am and then another tutorial at 4.30pm on the same day so that I would need to be on the 6.30am bus to get to campus 20 minutes before the tutorial and be home by about 7pm. She doesn’t see the countless journal entries where all I wanted was a way out. The way I wouldn’t let her pay for anything that I wanted or needed for h\fear of having hear her say “but I did this and this for you – all I ask is that you do that and that”.

But then she doesn’t see all the Arabic guys who have been interested in me but fled when they truly realised how intense my mum is. How the ones that didn’t care were nerdy idiots that could string an intelligible conversation together past “what did you have for dinner?” that my mum thought sweet and kind that I would sooner remain a spinster that marry – but because they came from a good family who cared that what they looked like or that we didn’t get along. She doesn’t see how Mr M was disappointed that he couldn’t spend time with me when I was over there and I was hoping things to progress because she stifled him by expecting him to ask for my hand then and there.

I am torn. I have no idea what to say or do for my mum anymore.

Mr A is great though – he tells me that he’s here for me; that he’ll do whatever I need him to do. That I am his princess.

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