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….

Wedding Photos & details to come soon….

Stay tuned people!

It was a GORGEOUS day and night – everything was fantastic! I cannot wait to share all the details and photos with ALL of you!

VERY, very soon!


Conversation with “The Man”

Sorry I’ve been a little bit absent in the last month. In fact come to think of it i cannot actually believe that a WHOLE month has come and gone and i have not written anything! In actually there have been a few things have going on but as its been a little bit of a whirlwind few weeks I haven’t really had much of a chance to stop and write it all down and post it! I know it’s terrible… but let’s move on shall we?

In the last few weeks Mr A and I have been tossing up about heading abroad sometime next year. We’re wondering if we should perhaps head off to Europe with his parents (as they are going next year for his Dad’s 60th birthday – its a surprise so don’t tell him!) or someplace different… the rationale is we are thinking that inshallah we want to look at start trying to start a family so maybe we should get the BIG trip outta the way? Personally I’ve done the whole Mediterranean and Europe experience and much prefer sandy beaches and relaxation – but Mr A hasn’t been to Europe.

And then one day last week I get a VERY interesting call while I’m at work:

Mr A: I was looking online at places we could go – how about maybe Africa? Or Cairo?

Me: Oooohhh – Egypt would be lovely! I’ve actually not been there – it would be fantastic!

Mr A: No – ugh; why don’t you listen to me – i said CAIRO!

Me: yeeeesss (thinking *what does HE mean?*) – I know – Cairo is IN Egypt!

Mr A: NO! Cairo is in AFRICA!

Me: yes babe – Cairo is the capital of Egypt – it IS in the continent of Africa

Mr A: Sweetie; Egyptians are Arabs –

Me: yes babe – they speak Arabic and are recognised as Arabs but it is located in Africa…

*I start to hear clicking in the background of the call…*

Mr A: i JUST ‘Googled’ it – Cairo is the capital of Egypt… you were right.

And in my mind i sat there thinking: AND DON’T YOU BLOODY WELL FORGET IT!

Me: oh well – I guess i was just better in Geography than you were sweetie – when we get home can we have that sticky date pudding that you make so well?

See – now he feels all ‘capable again! Seriously – my man is TOOOOO cute!

Not quite feeling myself this week…

I haven’t written in awhile – it’s not really that there’s not much been much happening but rather that the stuff that has been happening I think you would all find boring; its all wedding party stuff really:

Trying to source a wedding cake: My hot tip is to not do too many bookings on the one day – eating cake samples every 2nd hour does not clense the palate and DOES interfere with the weight that one is desperately trying to lose!

Dress fittings: I had my calico one today and am amazed at how cold it was standing in a room in all but a calico dress. I think I handled the whole pinning situation rather well and must give props to the designers assistant who did not prick me once!

Bridesmaid issues – actually there certainly IS a story there… forget being a bridezilla – I have a covert bridesmaid-zilla… and I personally do NOT think she is very covert about her ‘diva-ness’!

But all the above is sort of the least of my worries as I battle to understnad why I have been feeling rather ‘funny’ and ‘weird’ lately – I have no idea how to actually define or describe how I’m feeling but its a little “off” to how I am normally feeling – Mr A has noticed and keeps asking me “what’s wrong?” and “have I done something to upset you?” and more often “what can I do to make my princess smile?” Bless him greatly for trying – i appreciate it beyond comprehension! I’ll be ok for a little while and then I am back to this ‘funk’!

Then there’s me thinking about having to get mum’s tickets organised; oh yes did I forget to mention? Mum apparently wants to head off to Indonesia and possibly UAE for Eid this year and is hoping to head off on the 3rd of September. She very diplomatically (not) asked about how once she’d found the best price and got the dates sorted how “we” were going to pay for it – which was clearly mum’s way of saying “how and are YOU going to pay for this?”. I told her how her last years trip cost me a bit as she had wanted an open ticket that would be valid for a year and did not want to travel something like Virgin/Air Asia/Tiger (read: budget airline) that this meant the tickets were a little bit of a pretty penny (which really makes me wonder why when she paid for her own tickets JetStar was more than sufficient but since I had to pay somehow JetStar was now far too inferior!). Anyway, i said that based on last years costs i was happy to pay half that amount… Well, she’s done her research and organised her ticket to be a one year open ticket (like last time) where she still has to put in some rnadom return date (she has selected 03/03/2011) and she leaves on the afternoon of September third – oh and apparently the travel agent has emailed me the details and I am paying for her ticket – ALL of it.

Don’t get me wrong; this isn’t really a blog post about me lamenting that I am having to pay for the ticket. I worked out a long time ago that I am definately great at driving her places, paying bills, fixing ‘stuff’ and organising appointments. What upsets me is that i am having to “suck up” that this beyond a one way street – that i am not a complete moron to have not noticed that she is conviently away just prior my wedding party and a whole shitload of time after. I am come to realise that i have no idea about anything when it comes to my mother –  that even as i am typing this i am ranting! In some ways I more than expect it (this ‘situation’) and am happy to claim it as my duty as a Muslim daughter – i mean some people would claim that as a Muslim child my job is to “shut up and put up” and to remember that as she is the mother her word is gold – her requests should be met with nothing more than ‘yes mother’ – but i ask these people: where and when is the line drawn? I am NOT talking about retribution or being vengeful or rude, but rather at what point do i continue to take the ALL of THIS???????  Would a simple ‘thank you’ would go astray. Plus, whilst I am pre-programmed that this is how it has to be I don’t understand how my mum must think that it is more than ok to say what she wants, expect the earth and still its never enough  

Before you quip that that perhaps i should remind her that this means (her departure + return dates) she will not be here for my wedding party – believe me I know and i did remind her! I spoke to her about it the other morning; the conversation entailed her asking me if I had already paid for her ticket (*sigh*) – I told her that I was paying for it on Thursday (today). And her asking if I would come to Indonesia with her? I told that I was very sorry but that I wouldn’t be able to come with her – she then went on about how the family would LOVE to see me as they did not see me on the last trip she went on. I went on to telling her that I was not able to come as surely she must remember that i mentioned my wedding party was on the 30th of October – her answer was so eloquently put mashallah:

“I don’t care about your wedding – I want you to come with me…”

I must say that although I knew that she probably would not be at the party and that I more than realise her stance and her denial on the subject matter that is Mr A and I, that hearing this statement has hurt more than all the denial and other stuff she’s said in passing. I can’t quite put my finger on why though – perhaps its because that while she was putting her head in the sand i could rationalise to myself that she doesn’t really comrehend what i am doing – that she is just lost by this whole situation. But the fact that she is able to very clearly articulate that she DOESN’T care is such a slap in the face that as a daughter my role is to care and provide but that i should not expect the same in return. Perhaps this really hurts because its just one more hurtful thing that she’s said that i have to sit there and take. 

After that little comment she proceeded to make other little jibes comments that again, i sit there and listen to whick led me to sit there and pray for more patience – it is beyond words to just sit there and hear that sort of statement and never be able to say anything back – because as a daughter my role is to be patient; to listen; to not utter a bad word that would upset her (God only knows I upset her enough), to remember that she raised me and that in her way she is trying to do what’s best for me, that I am to respectfully sit there… and take the verbal slings and arrows with silent prayers and deep breaths I silently sat there listening to her say:

“No one loves you like me – I am your mother and I am the only person in this world who really loves you. everyone else is just lying – its ALL camouflage; one day you see – there is only me; everyone else is just pretending… ”

I tried to stop listening at that point – I am sure you catch my drift. We said our goodbyes and I got off the phone not long after that. I sat there next to Mr A (he was driving us to work) thanking Allah that I somehow ended up a rather well adjusted human being and that it truly is by the grace of God that, when I think about all the f#$ked up crap I had to endure with my dad and then with they way my mum behaves and says in the last ten-ish years that I did not end up a mentally screwed individual!

A few minutes after I get off the phone Mr A then turns to me and asks; “everything ok?”

My answer?  “Fine sweetie – i love you…”

He knows me so well and touches my knee, smiling he tells me he loves me too – SOOOOO much (he says).

 I mean really – what is there to say?

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 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!

Your parents = My Inlaws = My Parents

Western ideology claims that you marry a person and not their family. Ethnic/Islamic ideology states that you marry the family and the person – the reality is you DO marry the person and their family AS WELL as their extended family and the entire community they come from!

Growing up, my own father was pretty vacant in my life (they divorced when i was about 8 years old and didn’t want any access – that’s the really condensed version!) – my mum’s oldest brother was the closest thing I came to a father… and I really only saw him about twice a year (he has since passed away). So every now and again I am astounded at just how much Mr A’s dad is REALLY dad-like. In fact, in saying that I am super-lucky in how parent-like both his parents are with me. Seriously – I thank Allah that I have wonderful in-laws….

Example #1:
As per previous post; Perth went through a rather serious storm of late that meant that thousands of homes were without electricity for some time. Our house was one of them – for 2 days and 2 nights we sat by candle-light (have you tried to shave your legs by flickering candle? Well – let me tell you that it’s tricky but definitely do-able!). Our fridge and freezer had to be cleaned out; the large esky/cooler-box was brought out and filled with ice and the few items which could be salvaged.

Almost every night – winter or summer I will have a glass of cold milk before bed. Generally about half an hour before going to bed I will sit by the TV with my glass of milk. I love it – I have done this ever since I was a child regardless of where I am. If I can’t have it I crave it, I think about it and am despondent about the fact that I can’t have it. Mr A and his family make fun of my need of milk – Mr A will jokingly say that I ‘need to grow up’ whilst his mum and dad will say “oh – you’re off to bed then soon are you?” no matter what is said, I am not deterred – I will have my glass of milk; it’s a relationship that has stood the test of time!

So, when there was no electricity and I knew that almost all our stuff in the fridge/freezer was not going to keep, I knew that having my glass of milk before bed was a long shot – so imagine my joy when Mr A’s dad tells us all that (quote) “I saved the milk in the esky so it would be cold for Farah to have before she went to bed”



Truly Mr A has a lovely family – seriously; we may not have had any
electricity to light up the house BUT I can promise you my heart was lit up by the fact that this man thought of me!

Example #2:
I like chicken – nothing odd there (stay with me – i promise i have a point!); I don’t know many people that don’t like chicken… BUT I cannot be bothered with dealing with taking (cooked) chicken off the bone. Seriously – I think this may be the only bit of proof that shows I AM an only child! Growing up my mum used to take the chicken off the bone for me when dishing up my food and then serve it to me. Even when she cooks using bits of whole chicken she makes sure there are bits of chicken that have no bone – just the meat. When I’m cooking chicken I am happy to butcher into a whole chicken carcass (so it’s not because it grosses me out or anything) but then when it’s cooked I get ‘lazy’ – I will eat the breast meat but I seem to always leave some meat on the bone. I hate chicken wings; i don’t understand the love and fascination that people seem to have with them – I think it’s a lot of work for TOO little meat – its primarily fat and skin… who wants to eat just that? Not me!

About a month-ish ago Mr A’s mum cooked a whole chicken. We all sat down to eat it – I took my serving of breast and Mr A gleefully watched as I ate the meat off the breast and then leave the rest. Mr A’s mum asked if I didn’t like the chicken – I said I was full… Mr A laughed; Mr A’s mum asked him what was so funny. Idiot-head Mr A told his parents the ‘thing’ I have over picking chicken meat off the bone. I sucked it up/held my head up high and told Mr A (and company) that we ALL have our quirks… and that if MY flaw is that I don’t do taking ALL the chicken meat off the bone well isn’t that pretty much nothing by comprison of some people’s ‘quirks’? I mean some people KILL and MURDER other people, some people fart a lot and others have sex with dead people… i mean come on!

Anyway; a week-ish ago we had a chicken dish for dinner… I could see the chicken was just pieces that had been cooked on the barbeque and had bones. To be honest I don’t cause a fuss about it; I just eat what bit of it i eat and leave the rest (i have no idea why it is such a big deal to everyone)! Mr A’s mum then pointed out one on the chicken pieces on the tray and said (while looking at me) “that one’s yours… because it’s a piece of breast without a bone!”

I am very lucky (alhumdulillah )!

Is there is someone who makes YOU speechless?

Do you ever get a moment where you’re amazed at things that really you see every day? Maybe its because it’s the first day of 2010 and I am excited and hopeful of the future or maybe because it’s the end of 2009 and really I am amazed at the abundance of things that have happened during that year but really today – tonight I sit here in front of my PC humbled and amazed at how much I love Mr A.

I know it sounds lame – that I see him everyday; that I wake up next to him each morning and know that no matter what happens I can rely and depend on him… that sometimes he can irritate me beyond words but that most times I am in awe of him. He truly and utterly amazes me – and not too many people have been able to do that in my life.

When I was growing up I remember saying to my mum that whoever I marry has to love me more than I love him. Doesn’t that sounds terrible? But I was young – and growing up I saw how much my father hurt my mum, how she was strong and fun-loving woman and that he treated her badly –that time and again she tried to make things better; to make the marriage work but time and time again he proved that he was not a good person. And so I grew up not trusting anyone else who said that they might love or care for me, so that I knew that love was not never-ending and that I thought that in order to “make it last” the guy needed to be more emotionally invested than I was.

And you know what? In the beginning I think Mr A was far more into this than I was – I mean lets be serious here; he was the one going on about how he knew that we were going to be together while I pretty much cruised through thinking “yeah – ok… whatever!”

But then something… shifted. I didn’t even know it had happened – I can’t even really explain it; but something inside myself felt like je was an extension of myself – he understood me… in a time where all these guys who were being introduced to me were saying “ you know… I understand you” after chatting a few times i remember not giving the sentence a thought – thinking seriously how on earth can these people KNOW me when I’m not letting them know me? That there was something in my mind thinking YOU HAVEN’T GOT A CLUE! And Mr A never said it – never ‘bragged’ that he knew me; never claimed that he understood me and what I was about… but he did.

Being with him is easy – are dynamic is hard for me to explain to you all but he makes me want to burst! I feel so honoured – so privileged that we have a life together. So excited that this year; 2010 is the NIG one for us – we build our house… we have our civil wedding and reception… I take on his name.

I am speechless… he (and seriously – no one is more surprised about this than me!) makes me speechless!

So in saying all… this (see: above) is there someone in your life that renders you speechless? That just seems to “get you”? Feeling a touch ‘sentimental’? Who is it? I want to know…

Because i am nosey.. what can i say?

At the airport

Waiting for mum’s plane to land.

It arrives in 40 minutes…

Nervous & anxious

Wondering if its too late to jump on a plane outta here… Bali’s cheap – I could buy new clothes? I speak the language… i know where i’d stay?

This is actually really shocking – i am beyond anxious…. to see my own mother? Gee – doesn’t that seem like a healthy realtionship?

Poor Mr A just wishes we could all get along… i told him to stop being like John Lennon – i mean lets just look how successful he was at that wish?

Oh well – i suppose everyone has o have one shit crap maddening dysfunctional downfall in their life… nothing’s perfect…

Oh for goodness sake’s – lets just call a spade a spade shall we – this is crap; i wish she was still away; she will never want to understand this and i seriously just can NOT be bother with her antics any more.

There… i said it… what do you think the success rate would be if i told her a mildly, seemingly more appropriate version of that?


feeling troubled….

In the last 2-ish weeks or maybe that’s 3 actually I have to admit that I have been infected by the bug that is Zumba. I am loving it – maybe not LOVING it when I am in the middle of it (when I am huffing and puffing and sore and hot the last word that comes to mind is love. In fact, truth be told I am anxiously awaiting for the hour to be over!) but when its all over and I am on the way home and i’ve gotten my breath back I feel engerised and happy and satisfied with myself that I am getting into shape.

My lust for Zuma is so high right now that I am going between 2 to 3 times per week… madness isn’t it? But last night I must admit something – I ditched zumba.

Why? Because I was feeling down. Because my mum gets back this Sunday. Because I am at a point where I have no idea where to go from here (in relation to her). That I am beyond the point of trying – that I just want it (or me) to just be able to go away. That because as fast as I know she will walk through the arrival’s lounge I want to get her straight back into the departures lounge.

And I am thinking about it constantly now. And I am hating myself for all of this. Hating my thoughts, disliking that the only relationship I have with my mum is dysfunctional (at best).

Hating that I love her with all my heart but that I don’t like her.

Just wanting to pick her up – not say a word. Take her home and her into the house and then walk out. And go to where I feel at home which is not there.

Mr A meets a cousin!

Last night I spoke to Zaen – he’s one of my first cousins. We generally chat rather often but I say that in the last few months or so we haven’t chatted at all. Maybe its because we’re both busy with work or maybe its because he’s got 5 kids all under the age of 12 (where 3 are under the age of 6 – yikes), or maybe it’s all the mayhem with mum, etc – whatever; essentially we’d sorta lost touch.

Anyway the other day I thought about him and I was thinking that he’d such a snob for not calling me and really was a little overdue – so I gave him a call, left a message and called him an arrogant so and so for not calling his little cous(in).

It was a really good chat – I know mum had told me that he’d been in regular contact with her whilst she was over there (he lives in Doha; Qatar) but Zaen told me that it’s been roughly ever couple 4ish days. So imagine his surprise when he asks what I’ve been up to and I’m like “oh, well; I am in the midst of planning a wedding reception – you should come over to Australia in about October as that’s when we’re hoping to have it!”
The poor guy was shocked – he was like “how come I haven’t heard ANY of this – what is going on? Did you do all this while your mum was away?”

And so it began; I sat down and told him that naturally mum knows, that I moved out to Susi’s and then… well obviously everything. How Mr A’s parents are lovely. About him fasting with me this year – about why I suggested mum go on holiday if she didn’t want to mosque ALL together for eid. He silently listened and then said that he couldn’t believe my mum has said nothing to him about ANY of this. I told him that I seriously wasn’t surprised as I actually wasn’t allowed to mention it to anyone and not even suppose to talk to her about it as apparently I am then ‘killing her’.
He didn’t know what to say – Mr A then walked up to me and was like; “oohhh – who are you on the phone to?” when I said that it was Zaen he asked if Zaen wanted to talk to him – and so they spoke!!!

Granted it wasn’t a long conversation – just the basic salam and good to finally meet you. I am sorry that she (my mum) isn’t happy about us; but inshallah soon she will understand. Standard; please come to visit us in autralia; Mr A saying that we are building so inshallah he will be here either for our (civil) wedding and reception but if not then to come visit when we have our house; the good salam and then I got the phone returned to me!

Haha – the call ended with Zaen telling me that he is going to call me again soon – as clearly he misses TOO many events when he leaves it too long!

*sigh* One small step for man…

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