Archive for August, 2010

I’m sorry Dad


Today is a BAD day. This morning I fought with Dad. Actually I went into a complete rage. I tried to hit and kick my Dad. He was shocked. I have not lost control like this for a very long time. I let myself step off the edge and plunge into that black hole. I see the disappointment on Mum’s face. I hang my head low. I am ashamed.

All is calm now. My face is no longer red and my hands have stopped shaking. Dad and I have cooled down and made up. He tells me to get ready to go to the barber. That’s what the fight was about. He promised me a haircut.

*a note from Haziq’s Mum – Dad admits it was mostly his fault. Yesterday he promised to take Haziq to the barber at 10.00am and did not keep to it. Worse, he started to scold Haziq for disturbing him. One thing led to another and tempers flared. A word of advice; keep your promises to your children. You are the whole world to them. They cannot bear to be let down by people they look up to in life. Doesn’t matter how trivial the matter. Nothing promised is trivial to children …especially to special children.

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Mum’s birthday


Happy Birthday Mum. I wish her joyously the moment I wake up. She really laughed when I told her what I wanted to buy as a present. What’s so funny about stilettos? Mum says that’s the last thing she needs! I thought all women would want those? I guess not. Next “how about a necklace?”. Mum says no, she can make one herself if she wanted. That’s true. Our dining table is full of her jewelry stuff like pliers, wire, beads, crystals. She says she needs a studio for her hobby but I don’t know where to buy a studio. I suggested ” an evening gown?” Mum says she’s got nowhere to go that requires an evening gown. Boy, this is harder than I thought. After 10 minutes of hard thinking and lots of suggestions, she at last agreed on a lipstick and hair clip. Phew I’m relieved.

Then I realized she did not say where we’d be going for her birthday dinner. We go to a nice restaurant every year so why is Mum quiet about it? Perhaps she needs suggestions? I rattle off a number of my favorite restaurants …TGIF, American Chili’s, Bubba Gump? Everything was met with a No. She wants to go to nenek’s (grandma) house and have a nice tea party with family. I try to suggest more ‘grown-up’ restaurants like Tony Roma’s and Marche. It’s still No and she’s getting a bit annoyed. O.K here it comes….the..LECTURE. Listen Haziq,  just because we do the same thing every year it doesn’t mean we can’t change it. Change is good. I nod my head. Not so much in agreement but in resignation.

So off to nenek’s house. Maybe my aunty Cik Gee will bring that chicken fajita in pita bread that I love so much. Or Uncle Martin’s salad with the special sauce -his own recipe. Kids don’t usually like vegetables but we 3 children love vegetables since young (used to make other mothers wonder). We’ll put up photos tomorrow. I’ll include one of my nenek who is a healthy 83 but looks younger than her age. Nenek has a special bond with me. She tells Mum that I am anak syurga, a child from Heaven and to remember that whenever Mum feels down. Thank God for grandmothers.

Dad keeps his promise.


Dad took me to the zoo. He kept his promise. I told him “I feel better”. He laughed  and apologized at the same time. The night before I looked for my zebra print tee-shirt and carefully hung it beside my bed. In the morning I watched the clock. At 9 a.m sharp I tell Dad to stop work or we’ll be late. Mum and cousin Kak Lin also came along. From the moment we parked we could hear the siamang (gibbon) making their unique, loud territorial sounds. I joined in. Mum went to buy tickets and realized that she if she had brought along my OKU (orang kurang upaya) card I could have entered for free. She doesn’t ever carry that card with her because she doesn’t like a reminder of what my ‘label’ is. Kak Lin took charge of the camera and diligently photographed any animal that I got excited about… which was pretty much all of them. I was like a kid in a candy store.

It’s odd that normal folks don’t know the most basic thing about animals. I mean our conversation would be something like this;

Kak Lin: ” look a llama”. Me: “NO, its a guanaco”. Kak Lin:”huh? what’s a guanaco?”  Me: Sigh . . .

Mum: “there’s a wallaby”. Me: “NO, its a pademelon”. Mum: “a whaat?” Me: “Pade…melon, a kind of wallaby”

Then they (except Dad) would go to the info board to check if I was right. Dad says why bother, I’m always right about animals. After awhile they stopped naming the animals and just asked me to identify them (while they took quick sneaks at the info board). Oh by the way, I can also mimic the animal sounds. How good am I? Good enough to make Kak Lin’s mouth gape open in amazement. Mum makes me watch the camels. She stresses ‘See how the camel chews its food?’ I replied ‘Yes but the real name is dromedary. It has only one hump”. Mum glares. I’m missing the point. Viewing the tiger, puma, lion and leopard was exciting alright but I spent the most amount of time watching the deers. Mum doesn’t understand what it is about them that appeals to me so much.

Check out the photo below of me ‘petting’ a giraffe. We had burgers for lunch at The Wild Restaurant and made a stop at the souvenir shop before we left. Kak Lin asked me to chose something. I chose a Zoo Negara mug with pictures of apes. Thanks! As we got into the car I realized that we had missed the Aquarium and told Dad “Please come again”. He said “We’ll see”. I don’t know what that means so I ask a bit too anxiously . . . .When? . . . . .When? (again). Mum makes a disgruntled sound. I stop. I know what THAT sound means. It means to stop pestering before I ruin a perfectly good day. I do this a lot apparently without realizing it.

However, as I get older I learn to check myself before I cross that threshold of no return – the point where I exhaust my mother’s patience and she issues me a final warning to STOP or I will not (do/go/have) whatever-it-is again for a long time. One thing I can tell you about Mum. She does what she says and she says what she does. It’s this no-nonsense firmness that has taught me discipline. In the early days I threw tantrums and rolled on the floor if I did not get my way. She would physically drag me away while people watched, shaking their heads amidst whispers of what a bad mother she is. Some say she’s too harsh. Mum calls it hard love. It’s the strongest kind of love there is.

*P.S Mum says she doesn’t want to be the mother that’s always searching for the child who’s constantly wandering off or having to coax a child to go to sleep every single night. I stick by Mum’s side (except that time I got lost at Animal Kingdom, Orlando) and I have slept on my own since I was three years old, at a regular time. How did she manage this? Ok this surely requires a new post.

Imagine petting a giraffe. A reticulated giraffe to be exact.

Having a good time at the Savannah

Laundry and meals. Chores and rules


I’m back so my blog is back to being written from my perspective, with Mum’s help. Just gonna rest today but there’s laundry to do first. I have been doing the laundry for a long time. When other mothers hear that they say to Mum “How lucky”. She replies “Nothing to do with luck. I train him on a task for however long it takes for him to master it”. It’s true. That explains why I can read and write in 2 languages and use the computer. I don’t understand everything I read but imagine how much less meaningful my life would be if I wasn’t able to surf the Web. My favorites are You Tube and Wikipedia. Odd combination but it works for me.

That also explains why I have good table manners. Mum watches me during meals. Even till now. Watches to see if I forgo the part where I am supposed to chew my food. Sometimes I just swallow straightaway. Hey it’s faster. If she sees she asks “what’s the hurry . . . catching a train?’. If I have 10 sen for every time I heard that . . . If I still don’t chew she makes me stop eating for a full 5 minutes, like a time-out. One problem I have is not being able to sense that there’s bits of food around my mouth which needs to be wiped. I really don’t. I wipe randomly, hoping to find that morsel of food wherever it is. Ah one more thing, Mum makes me sit up straight to make sure I don’t eat with my face 6 inches from the plate like she has seen many special kids do.

So I have to get on with the laundry now. You know the worst part? It’s not the actual work or running to retrieve laundry when it rains. It’s the part where I have to CONS..TANT..LY remind my brother and sister to fold their clothes and put it away. Arrrrrrrrgh. It drives me crazy!! . When the clothes pile becomes little hills Mum tells me to dump it on their beds. They have no choice but to fold it when it’s time to sleep. This part I like.