Chicken licken

That’s the title of one of the little books in the early reader series I used to read to my children. I can’t remember the story now but so far, I haven’t seen it again recently when I browsed the shelves in the bookstores to survey potential first books for Alman. I’d given away almost all of my children’s collection to my grand nieces and nephews several years ago when we moved house, so got to start a new collection now. In any case, baa baa black sheep, humpty dumpty and sing-a song-of-six pence are mandatory.

Since I’ve had to make chicken soup (with a lot of ginger and garlic) regularly for Alman’s mummy after she came back from the hospital, my interest in chicken has been somewhat intensified. I’d always gone for the air-chilled anti-biotic residue-free ones before this. The butcher had once explained to me that the plastic wrapping for the “air-chilled” chicken is not laced with chemical preservative unlike the rest. In that sense, their turnover is expected to be higher and they are hence, fresher. But they are not anti-biotic free, only antibiotic residue free, right? So, going by all folks’ advice, I went scouting for “ayam kampung”. The ones I had seen in the supermarkets always looked gaunt and dried up. No matter how good they are lauded to be, I’d never been induced to bring one home. They are still there, always a bit too big for my liking. I had bought a range-free chicken once costing almost twice the price of the air-chilled variety, but could not detect any difference in the texture or taste of the meat. Then I found this mini-sized Al-Masyhur ayam kampung in Max Value which was totally enticing. It must be spring chicken too. The guy in charge didn’t look like he had time to engage in a chat with me , or rather, in answering any questions I had about the characteristics of the chicken. But when I went back for another the following week, I told him that the chicken made especially delicious soup….”manis”. Even my daughter noticed the difference. But you’d have to get it really fresh, otherwise you’d have to do all kinds of tricks to get rid of the smell even though the meat is edible.

Another discovery is “sakura chicken” in Isetan supermarket. The price is slightly higher than that of ayam kampung. This Japanese guy tried telling me in faltering English that this chicken variety was “clean, white and sexless”. I was repulsed at the idea of eating meat of a freak chicken! Noticing my disbelief, he called a Malay staff over to explain and from her I found out that these chickens are actually virgins (“ayam dara belum bertelur”). She pointed out that while ayam kampung is always male (‘jantan”), sakura chicken is always female. Also that sakura chicken is, like ayam kampung, anti-biotic free but fed a special diet and the meat is especially tender. Well, it is true…it makes pretty clear, tasty soup and I thought my honey chicken was better than ever, the meat tender though well fried. I still have some in the fridge to try out Izaz’s lemon chicken recipe and roast chicken too.

So by the time Alman is ready for macaroni chicken soup and chicken porridge, Opah should know which chicken is best, when and where to get them freshest. Come to think of it, he’s got bears, monkeys, lions, on his jumpsuits and t-shirts, but not a single chicken!

Salt water nasal wash

Salt water gargle has always proved its worth for me whenever my throat starts to irritate, but salt water for stuffy nose is new knowledge to me. Alman started to sneeze and cough a bit too frequently at the beginning of the week. Dr Wong confirmed a slight fever, sore throat and stuffy nose. He was given cough medicine and sea water solution (Sterimar) as nasal spray. That’s quite fascinating, my babies were never given that in the 80s. So I googled and found out about salt water flushing being an ayurdevic practice originally and that it is now widely advocated, though no scientific studies have yet been done to prove its claims.

“In proper proportion, nasal salt water solution with slight acidic Ph functions as an anti-bacterial irrigant. The flow of salt water through the nasal passages flushes the dirt, airborne allergens (dust and pollen, pollutants and bacteria-filled mucus” (Wikipedia). There is a host of explanations and testimony on it, but main things I gathered are that it helps thin the mucus, enables the tiny hairs (cilia) in the nasal passage to function better, ie to push excess mucus to the back of the throat or to the nose to be expelled and that it is also good for people with sinus problems. And the salt water must be iodine free.

Alman doesn’t seem to mind the nasal spray too much, but it is quite a task getting all of the 1.5 ml cough medicine down as he always manages to spurt some out and even purses his lips when the syringe approaches. Clever, isn’t he? Anyway, he is getting much better, probably more from the constant hugs and cuddles (which he seems to insist on more since he got sick) than what the doctor gave. Some of his “newborn” clothes are getting tight, especially at the crotch! He is “talking” quite a lot now and loves to lie on Tok’s lap and his arms…the most cushiony around!   

Grand Dame

I’m sitting with Alman’s Onyang today (his mummy’s Opah, my Mak). It’s Saturday, the maid has gone off for half a day and Long (check out my story on her in “My sister, my mentor”) has gone for her weekly class at UM teaching would-be teachers of music. Onyang is well today and is amused at every little story I have to tell about her 6-week old “cicit”…he lets out booming farts, his eyes will now follow me when I get up and walk behind him, he won’t let me shampoo his hair for longer than 2 minutes, he acts as if he is breathless when I wipe his face with the wash cloth, he wiggles and grunts in his bath, his belly is now as round as his face, hehehe.

Onyang ate just 4 spoonsfuls of the chicken lasagne I brought for her from coffee bean. She usually likes pasta with plenty of cheese in it, but now she has lost her appetite for most things. She couldn’t name anything she felt like eating at all today. She took a look at the orange poppy seed cake and told me to keep it in the fridge first. I miss the days when she’d grin happily after eating half a chunk of apple cake or bread pudding. She wanted to sit in her wheelchair for lunch, so I had to lift her from the bed onto the wheelchair and an hour later, back on the bed when it was time for zohor. I hadn’t done this for nearly 2 months now and she felt heavier than before…either she’d put on weight or I’ve lost some tiger power…heheh just remembered what the boys in school called out when I was swinging it out on the tennis court. So I pulled and I puffed more than usual to place her in a comfortable position. Took her wuduk for her and rewarded myself with an oreo macflurry Long brought back for me. Can’t wait for the day to share 2 types of macflurries with Alman! After prayers, Onyang apologized to me profusely for having asked me to carry her ( as she remembered how I sprained my back a little a few months ago after doing it about 4 times daily for a month when the maid was on leave). She was in fact tearful and I wondered…oh, my God…did she hear my thoughts? For the thought did cross my mind, that I would have to refrain from lifting her like this for fear of injury…because little Alman needs my strength forever more. Dear Angel, assist me…….

I know my mother had had to carry more loads than I’ve ever had to throughout her life, loads that have probably taken their toll on her posture and bone density, causing her to suffer a fracture in her hip bone and led her to the wheelchair a few years ago. She is now 87, still has a rosy complexion, free of any life style disease, but unable to stand up and walk. She complains little, just about being tired. But she brightens up when she asks about Alman, his mummy, daddy and his 2 uncles down under. Keeps apologizing for not being able to visit us. It took a few reminders though before she could roll the ‘L’ just enough to get the name Alman rounded.

27 years apart we are and I am just at the brink of my career as grandma while Onyang had gone past hers and is way into great grandmotherhood. Yet she still seems to remember and take delight in, every detail of a baby’s development. She did it all….fully breastfed and nurtured all 8 of us, helped raise several of her 13 grandchildren and celebrated the birth of each of her 14 great grandchildren. She cooked and cleaned during the time when technology had hardly permeated our homes. Perhaps that way the experience is so entrenched in her that she can now still give cooking tips and authentic recipes from her bed.

There is a quiet dignity about Opah (as she is more often referred to) that shields the pain and sorrow underneath. Still chooses the colours she wants to wear every day and she smells like a baby…because the maid massages her with Baby Johnson all over, just like mummy does to Alman. Still fusses over food for visitors. Truly the Grand Dame in our life. They say I resemble her the most in appearance…what a compliment. Will Alman have a title too for his own Opah twenty years from now…..   

Paradigm shift and shifting goal posts

Adaptability and flexibility…positive traits employers laud about and look for particularly in managers. How many times I have sat across from prospective employees discussing their scores on these 2 traits from the personality profiling tests they had to do. And these tie up with organizational abilities, creativity, stress management and a few other factors. It was interesting to hear how some people were not innately aggressive but had to be to adapt to certain situations, how being too flexible makes them jack of all trades and precludes career advancement, and so on.

Right….6 weeks into my new management role and I‘m checking my scores. I’ve had to drop any OCD about waking up at 5.05am (time I was born) every day, finishing my exercise before 8.00 am, about changing the bedsheets on Mondays, even about washing my hair every fourth day. I got up with a headache this morning and just had to have some fresh air. So after my mocha and elimination ritual, I walked around the block but just for 15 minutes so as to catch Ah Kiong, the fish monger on the van, who I had called earlier to come over with potatoes and prawns. Then I need to be back to make breakfast, hang out the clothes so they can be dry in time for the maid to do the ironing later. Need to make some calls after people have checked into their office. Then prince Alman will wake up for his bottle….yes, it is 2 weeks now before mummy goes back to work and baby has to be trained on the bottle. Cikmina needs a bath too since she is coming very early today. What does mummy want for lunch now….she won’t have rice and lauk that’s already stocked up in the freezer (my Sunday maid cum cook takes care of that)…as she is on a weight loss diet that also churns good milk for Alman. And I have to finish that company profile for my client before 3 pm and emails to check and emails to reply…..

Yes, I made it to the finishing line(s)…..never mind the slight delays…and my headache’s gone! Adrenaline rush over and over, but I’m none the worse for it. Maybe being on call for the hugs and jigs with Alman, and diaper changing, serves as a destresser while rushing between goal posts….no harm shifting them sometimes. Priorities need to be adjusted too. The plants used to be my babies to attend to first thing in the morning but now more often than not, they have to fit in sometime later. I make it up to them during the weekends when Alman’s family sleeps in late and Alman gets to enjoy full breastfeeding again. So I have to bend my own rules and not kill myself to empty the ‘to do’ box daily. Hairwash can wait another day or two and meantime bundle hair up, get nice bands and clips (add to ‘to do’ list).The daily newspapers carry more crime stories anyway so just flipping through them is sufficient and sometimes I can even skip them altogether. As for my favourite TV series, I can record and watch them whenever.

There is actually an immense sense of liberation when you let go of some things that are actually not very important any more in your life…just like weeding old plants, old receipts, unused clothes…and make room for new ones.

As for goals, you may well change them as you review your priorities and find new perspectives. Even experience paradigm shifts. Though my big dreams remain, I find myself creating and focusing on many new goals that are more realistic and achievable in a shorter time frame. Even catching up with friends becomes a new challenge that is so gratifying when accomplished. And there is nothing wrong with being a jack of all trades as long as you have a passion in each of the trades and perform them with sincerity.

This reminds me of a job interview I attended in 1996. It was for an HOD position in a newspaper company. I was then a university librarian, a unit head with just 2 executives under my position. This job I was applying for would have to replace an old guard, revamp the system and manage some 40 unionised staff. The head of the interview panel did not ask me about my management style or anything of the kind. Instead, he said “you are managing a husband,3 children and a home. I’m sure you can handle the job and the old guard”. I didn’t quite fathom the depth of his statement then, but later realized how wise this man was. He was Datuk A. Kadir Jasin.

“Allow yourself to yield, and

you can stay centred.

Allow yourself to bend, and

you will stay straight.

Allow yourself to be empty, and

you’ll get filled up.

Allow yourself to be exhausted, and

You’ll be renewed.”

The Tao Te Ching of Lao Tzu

Jazz on 851

It was 8.10 am when Alman came down with mummy who looked simply exhausted. I had been on the stepper for hardly 10 minutes then keeping in rhythm with some raunchy tunes on classic FM (the only channel that’s good and clear from the old radio in the maid’s room). This gadget is not bad at all….you can drip a sweat and feel the aerobic effect after just 5 minutes. We let Alman grumble for another 5 minutes ( as he just had a full feed) before I took him and asked mummy to get back up to bed. Switched on astro to channel 851 for a medley of music and zeroed in on jazz. Bouncing briskly to the beat with Alman from the back porch to the front and back again, I could scan and admire my plants outside . It was like the slowing down phase at the end of a workout. And Alman started to fall asleep just 5 minutes into the session, with his signature pose for slumber….fist on his cheek.

Alman had his first appointment with Miss Wong, the pediatrician today. He has gained more than 1 kg and grown by 4cm!   

Third baby in the house

Looks like Alman has finally settled down for the night. Big baby has sunk into the sofa. Since yesterday, Alman hadn’t been taking long naps during the day as he used to, but last night he only woke up twice for milk, so that’s not bad. Mummy and daddy can get some restful sleep. He is starting to make baby coos and gurgles, enjoys morning walks in the garden and seems to like his play gym too. He doesn’t mind his bath but cries a bit every time his head is shampooed….reminds me of his uncle ijaz who doesn’t like anyone to touch his hair.

Cikmina has been coming to stay during the day whenever Aya has to leave the house to run her errands or to attend to her business appointments, which is almost daily. For the first few days, Cikmina’s steel rods kept knocking the side of the bathroom door and once my specs got hooked on them when I was helping her to dress. Balance is all-important here especially as Cikmina is rather top heavy and maneuvering my way under her armpit on the wet bathroom floor (of the tiny bathroom downstairs), “concentration” is the word. But she doesn’t make much fuss, is happy to be fed her lunch at about the same time everyday and seems to accept her predicament quite well. Aya fetches her back in the afternoon everyday and takes her to the clinic to change her dressing. She seems to look forward to these sessions too and always has little clinic anecdotes to relate to me whenever she catches me alone. No kidding, Cikmina loves to talk, gossip and she can laugh too. She counts how many times Alman smiles at her…indeed.

Time passes so quickly, but yesterday I managed to catch up on new CVs sent through the email and recorded them for easy retrieval later. Am I glad I have the back porch gym as with another baby at home, I’m rendered less mobile than ever. It’s ok, I’ll try to embrace each season as it comes. Alman remains the life of the party. He is getting to be more handsome, wearing new clothes everyday as he is beginning to fit well into the “3-6 mths” size clothes which so many aunties, uncles and friends gave as presents….such excellent taste, folks…..thank you!  

Less is more

It’s English day again at Yasmin Holdings.Today we read the article on women’s bodyshapes and appropriate styles for each type. It was a lively discussion with Liza as our illustrator on the white board. Most owned up to being pear-shaped, the expecting one can’t help being apple-shaped. We agreed with most of the suggested cuts and fabrics though one’s height, which the writer did not seem to factor in, must always be kept in mind when choosing styles. Yes, those with boy-shaped bodies are the luckiest, they are the easiest to dress as all they got to do is focus on creating a waist and can afford ruffles, pleats and what-have-you. Even the one declared an hour glass figure said she has to be careful not to look heavily dressed and we all echoed the author...”go simple and you’ll be smashing”.

There was one new nursing trainee today, a guy and the only thorn among the roses. I think he was embarrassed at some of the things discussed, though he must have missed most of it for lack of understanding the terms related to female bodily concerns. In any case, I decided not to have them play hot seat today. Lets hope he finds out by himself what “cleavage” means because nobody wanted to explain it to him today.

Aura of compassion

 I’ve seen at least 6 doctors coming in to check on Cikmina throughout the hours that I’ve sat with her in the ward. Most of them must be students. One asked Cikmina after her operation if she had GA or a shot at the back….poor Cikmina, though she understands English, she wouldn’t know what GA means. Another came in just to ask how her arm was feeling and to tell her to take the painkillers. When I asked what other medication she was taking, she appeared taken aback and went out to find out. Never mind that they don’t check the charts property before visiting a patient or that they breeze in and out asking a one-liner like “macam mana tangan, ok?”….perhaps there are limitations set for them at that point of training. But this morning for the first time a doctor came to her bedside, actually sat on the bed facing her while Cikmina sat on the chair just a foot away from him. His tone and the way his shoulders bent as he looked at her arm had a calming effect. Even Cikmina started asking questions which he answered gently even about how to dress with her enlarged arm. He explained the whole situation in more detail (and he wasn’t in the operation theatre yesterday) than the doctor who came round with the students yesterday, who seemed very efficient and stood tall across the bed from Cikmina telling her about her fracture and torn ligaments in a high-pitched tone loud enough for all his students and the other 3 patients in the room to hear. The doctor who came this morning took the time to turn around, smiled and asked whether I was a younger or older sister.

The hospital has treated Cikmina well, doctors aplenty and they all smiled including the nurses. But I think patients would do well to look out for themselves sometimes in the ward. When a nurse came with 2 identical tablets and another tablet this morning and said they were pain killers, I casually asked if they were all painkillers. She then went out to check and came back to tell me that one was for high blood pressure. I noticed that her BP reading had been normal since yesterday, so I asked if it was high this morning. She said it wasn’t and went out again, came back with the machine and checked Cikmina’s BP, found it to be normal and then told us the doctor instructed to give it only if her BP rises. Oh, well it was good that she was conscientious enough to right the situation.

Anyway, after the young doctor left this morning, Cikmina asked, ‘Is he Chinese?” I said “Yes, I think he is a student”. She said, “He looked at my face”. And she smiled. A couple of times after that she asked me if he was her “real” doctor. I had to say “no”.