Madre

The day before yesterday Ummi got into the hospital. Her whole life, she had only been warded once. That was years ago when I was in school. She was suspected to have breast cancer. Now it seemed she had another benign at her thyroid. Most probably a non-cancerous thyroid cyst, but we'll never know, said the doctor. Still waiting for the result. The cyst itself was about 6cm, already pressing hard against her breathing passage, making it smaller. She was admitted in the morning, the minor op was done right away, and only later at night was I being informed on the whole thing.

So typical of my mom.

She wasn't aware that she had a living growth inside of her up until her neck got so swollen it was making her feel uncomfortable. "Suddenly I realized I had this thing," she told us.

Suddenly.

Isn't life full of suddenlys? Suddenly you're sick. Suddenly you're sad. Suddenly you lose. Suddenly you're lonely. Suddenly. Suddenlys are scary. And sometimes they're scary as shit.

Alhamdulillah Ummi got discharged, getting ready for umrah this 11th. She seemed to enjoy using up her insurance money on hospital bills. "I paid thousands on medical insurance yet this is only my second time actually using it. Lainlah Wani. Wani tiap tahun masuk wad. Berbaloi upgrade."

Can you believe it?

SHE was on the hospital bed, talking about upgrading MY insurance grade.

Seriously, Ummi?

Moms. Their love is crazy.

I cannot lose mine just yet.

Still waiting for the result...

On another note, today was Ikhlas's second day at his new playschool. One that is more Islamic - which was the only reason why we decided to make the change. It was my idea, actually. But... I'm starting to think that I've made a mistake. Ikhlas hates his new playschool. He cried in the morning, he cried during schooltime, he cried when I came in the evening to fetch him, he cried at night telling me he doesn't wanna go to his new playschool, and he continued to cry even till bedtime.

So unlike him who's a social butterfly and a chatty hyperactive kid.

I tried asking him to explain what's the matter but neither he nor his teachers are telling me much. It breaks my heart every time, seeing him terribly unhappy. I've never seen him so unhappy. And it's not the mengada kind of crying, if you know what I mean. You know moms. Kids could have 18 types of cries and moms can differentiate each one of them. And this is like the saddest one I've witnessed so far. Of course I comforted him with all the creativity in the world that I could think of.

Have I screwed up? What have I done to my son? Should we go back to his old playschool? He said he wants to go back to his old playschool. It sure seems more fun and friendlier compared to his new playschool. Should we ask for a refund from his new playschool? Can we even get a refund? Damn it. This is one of those rare times when I actually wish I'm rich. Why did I come up with the stupid idea in the first place? What was I thinking? He is only four. I just wanted him to play.

Maybe I should give it more time, be patient.

I kissed my baby again and again as he fell asleep with teary eyes, and I whispered to his ear- "Ikhlas, bonda sorry sangat sangat sangat..."

Will tomorrow be another challenging day?

Bismillahirrahmanirrahim.