Marsha Maung:: Freelance graphic designer and writer

I am a mess. No, not mess as in mess but messy as in messy. Ppphhhttt, as if THAT made sense but I loathe the idea of calling myself messy so I will settle for calling myself ‘organized in a messy way’.

There.

Since I am going to be moving out to my own place next week (my grandmother found the PERFECT lucky date to move, so, there’s really no escaping. Unless I like the feeling of having a knife in my rear end planted there by well-meaning elderly people in my family – BOTH sides), I thought I’d write a little about housework, mundane and pain-in-the-butt chores like picking up your own clothes, doing your own laundry, sweeping your own floor, mopping the damn floor, wiping and dusting tabletops and computer tops and TVs and….see, I get even get TIRED writing about it. Plus, I have this sinus problem that makes it impossible for me to sweep or dust anything without popping a few blood vessels in my nostrils.

I’ve used my sinus problem as an excuse quite successfully over this lifetime but I guess I will no longer have a choice when I move out without my maid in tow.

Yeah, I have a maid but we’re leaving the maid with my mother-in-law since I am younger, more energetic and supposedly more able than her. Sometimes I question this logic. She may be older but if you look at my mother-in-law, you’ll see that apart from creaking knees, she moves without much effort around the house. In fact, she runs faster than me! But since all the families congregate in my mother-in-law’s place (my current residence) everyday, it would make sense to leave the maid here instead of having to get another maid and contend with another full-blown ‘How can this maid be so dense not to understand what ‘’o-oi’ and ‘mum-mum’ mean?’ problem. They don’t teach maids our baby-language (which they should, by the way) as in mum-mum means eat, shee-shee means pee, mm-mm means big business in toilet, o-oi means sleep…etc.

I think housework is a stupid chore. Why can’t we live in organized clutter? I mean, isn’t it OK if we all know where things are and where the broom, the mouse, the speaker phone, the handphone charger and the fork and spoons are? Isn’t that enough already? Do we have to live in hotel-like environment in order to function? Isn’t it enough that we have clean clothes to wear, half-decent shoes to put over our feet, and a home that does not smell like the insides of an ashtray? If not, then let's all move to Hyatt Saujana or something.

I mean, let’s look at it this way…you wipe, mop, sweet, vacuum…and whatever else it is that you do to a home….tonight, you go to sleep in a this sterile environment feeling extremely proud of yourself and then you wake up in the morning and there’s dust everywhere. DUST, DUST, DUST!! It’s frustrating because you’ve worked so hard to keep the place clean and then all you get is a night sleep without enjoying the cleanliness at all! Why bother?

My table is the messiest place in any place that I live or work. In the bank I used to work, I heard the receptionist say to my client when he came to visit me, “There, see the table with four piles of files stacked up on the front of the table? That’s Marsha’s table” You can’t see me coming in from the door because the files form a sort of protective wall from public eye. Eh, I like it this way, ok? But my office mates laugh at me and my boss asked me if I had enough space to write anything when I pile everything on top of my table and I say, “Sure”. But in the end, they got me a special second table where I pile MORE files on top of it. The extra table did not help me clear the original table but instead, I built a longer wall of files!

It is ironic that when I was living with my parents, I shared a bedroom with my sister. Now, she’s someone who is totally opposite of me! I couldn’t care less and she cares about everything - sad to say, she’s my YOUNGER sister. I make a mess, she cleans up. She puts her toiletries in organized compartments, mine can be found under the toilet bowl. She organizes her perfumes and lotions in sections, mine can be found dumped inside my underwear drawer. In fact, she’s so meticulous that she used to iron my school uniform when we were in school!! She complained but my mom has given up asking me to do the task because I was never home, anyway.

Now that I am married, my HUSBAND has taken over the role. He is the kind of person who WANTS and NEEDS to stay in a hotel-like home and don’t want to lift a finger to do anything! Therefore, in my personal, opinion, he should just take his ass to Indonesia and find himself a bride there! Harumph! Accordingly, many Indonesian women know how to clean a home (any home) with their eyes closed.

And as I was saying, housework is tedious and mindless. Why do housework when you know that everything is going to be messed up again – especially if you have kids? You put their toys back into their organized toy boxes with special labels, and the next minute they are everywhere again. Why bother folding the blankets and comforters when you know they’re going to be used again tonight? Why bother mopping when you know one of the kids are going to spill their VITAGENS on the floor again?

But even if my own personal space is cluttered, I have to keep the rest of the place clean and as organized as I possibly can. In other words, I will clean every other spaces that affects others. When it comes to my own space, leave it alone! I like the organized mess that I am living in right now.

Written in jest, of course. Sometimes, I DO wish someone would clean my mess up for me......any takers?

House cleaning tips

 

House-cleaning schedule (there’s a SCHEDULE??)

 

Springcleaning

 

Getting organized

 

Cleaning up after pets (Urgh!)

 

Marsha
www.marshamaung.com

With the rising number of babies being dumped and left to die, I can’t help but wonder what the world is coming to?? What is all this baby-dumping business that’s been going on? Why?? How??? How can you???

 

Is humanity digressing so much that we have come to this? Why can’t mothers or fathers or BOTH appreciate the gift of life? Regardless of how much burden a baby can be, it is yours, it’s your blood! How can you anyone leave their babies to die??

 

Sorry, I feel very strongly about this one. I am going to get foul-mouthed later on, so, be warned. If you don’t like reading rude opinions, click away now.

 

Anyhow, there are more and more parents who feel that they are not the best people to care for their own children. For one thing, more and more of my friends are leaving their kids to nannies that will care for their babies 24 hours a day, and the parents will only come and VISIT their baby after work. After that, they leave for home. The baby is part of the family, I don’t understand how anyone can just leave their babies in another home, like the baby is not part of their family at all???

 

I GAVE EVERYTHING UP TO CARE FOR MY OWN KIDS!! I will kill anyone who tries to take over the responsibility of caring for my kids. I loathe the thought of anyone else making the decision of caring for MY children for me and I will fight them with everything that is in me to be the main decision maker because as mother, I am given the instinct to know (most of the time) what is best for my babies.

 

And yet, many parents these days are leaving their kids to the care of other more adept and more experienced people. Some take the kids home during weekends. Some don’t even do that, visiting only at night and taking them home once a month. And you call yourself a PARENT??? Check out the word parent in a dictionary….

 

Worse still, there are those who know that the crying bundle is their own flesh and blood and yet they pack the babies in plastic bags, watch the baby struggle for breath and then leave the ‘package’ in a dump site???? Man, what is thing world coming to?

 

What is the true meaning of a family, this modern world is totally befuddling to me.

 

Some people make excuses like, “Oh, I am not the best person to care for my baby” and I say “Bull Fucking Shit!!” God gave you the ability to give birth, you’re given the ability to care for the baby. The best, you’re the best. And by handing your baby to another person (it could be your mother, in-law, sister, or neighbor, it doesn’t matter) you’re denying your baby the best that he or she can have. You.

 

Some people say, “Oh, I am so busy with my work and we come home very late after that and have no time to be with the baby”. Another bullshit!!! You MAKE time if you’re busy. You can make time to play golf, you can make time to take care of your own child, for crissakes!!

 

Some people say “I give up. I don’t think I can handle it anymore”. Then why have a kid? And if you had the kid by accident, take responsibility. This is what you have done, do something about it. We’re not talking about a broken pencil or a glass of spilt milk, you have the balls to have a baby, you have the balls to raise one up.

 

We all know it’s a heavy responsibility but this is what human beings are being made to do. So, I know I am going to anger some people out there, but this is MY BLOG, and I can voice my own opinion in every single way I want.

 

And I don’t like IRRESPONSIBLE PARENTS – SO THERE!!! Parents who can’t be man or woman enough to raise their own kids are making sad excuses and trying very hard to convince themselves that can’t do it right.

Raw power in motion, that’s what RPM stands for…and let me tell you one thing…it is raw power and it is pure power!! Nothing less, that’s for sure.

RPM is a program that is available through any gym in the world enlisted with the Les Milles program. And if you think RPM is something you can kid around with, you’re wrong. In the eyes of those who have never tasted the pure torture of going through RPM, you’re in for the RIDE of your life! RPM is one hour of cycling that will rip your muscles apart and dry your sweat glands out.

Oh, of course, it’s fun most of the time. The music thumping through your brain, every ounce of your body fat burning. 45 minutes to 1 hour of competition-style cycling that sets you off on an hour of nothing but torturous adventure. You love it, and yet you hate it. You want to go on but you wish the instructor will stop asking you to ‘PUSH YOURSELF!!’.

In fact, sometimes I find myself thinking that RPM is nothing less than a small rock concert. You’re smashing your muscles into smitterins and there’s the music that keeps you going. The people who design this program knows how to choose their music. Music that goes, ‘Don’t give up now’, ‘Go on, go up, go on, go for it’, or ‘Move your body, move your soul’. Yeah, the likes.

It is, however, an awesome workout every single time. You go in thinking you’re just going to cycle your way through the hour and then you’re required to set up, sit down, lean over, sit down, arrow style, over the top…etc. the basic concept of RPM is to push people to their limits.

Frankly, I’ve never sweated so much in my life. I remember sweating just as much when I used to train in badminton with my dad. Badminton, as some of you will know, will make you sweat like your pores are open taps. There are those stationery bikes that looks absolutely harmless. When you get on, the music is turned on and the instructor starts saying ‘roll your shoulders’, you know you’re in trouble. At the end of the session, you notice a puddle of sweat at the bottom of the bike that is your own, your towel is soaked too, your water bottle is empty, and you can’t feel your legs.

Sometimes, I think RPM is made for those who either like to torture themselves or those who are sweat fanatics. How else do you explain the ‘YEAH’ and the ‘MORE MORE MORE’ in the middle of the session. You’re panting and practically going into a delusional state and people are still yelling for more??? You’re kidding!!!

People actually go there to torture themselves! For one, my sister and my cousin goes there to sweat! They attend more RPM sessions than me – and honestly, RPM scares the panties off of me. Everytime I go in there, I say a silent prayer…to whomever is out there, up there, listening. My main motivation is to remain in the game for as long as I can.

But the good thing is that RPM is a cardiovascular program that does not require you to jump, skip, hop, run, or perform acrobatics in an effort to sweat. All you have to do is to sit on the rock-hard seat of the bike and move your legs in circles REALLY fast. Some instructors are actually kind and say things like, ‘Do what you can, don’t stress yourself out’. But with an instructor we personally know, she is intent on giving us heart attacks. Every time I stop or try to cheat, she will wrinkle her nose and notify me, ‘I said move up two notches, not one’.

Blast you.

But how come I am still going back for more every single week? Has it got anything to do with the rate I sweat or is it because I am a sadomasochist in hiding?

The question comes to me almost every time I am out with my 2 boys, “So, you have two boys? Trying for a girl?”

Well, fine, my younger boy, Jared is already 3+ and schooling, so, I guess I have to say that their question is ‘timely’. It doesn’t mean that the question is welcomed because frankly speaking, we’re not trying for a girl!

Oh, I know, I know.

The Barbie Dolls. The frilly skirts. The girl-fashion handbags. Those cheap lipsticks and plastic mirrors! The ribbons. The Little Pony books. And man, wouldn’t it be great to have a little girl to tie up hair for. I would do amazing things for someone else’s long hair…but not my own. Go figure! That’s why my hair has been consistently short for quite a couple of years.

While I really, really, really, REALLY want a girl, I feel a little bit selfish over here – some people have been trying for DECADES and have not even had a simple fertilized egg and here I am complaining about my amazing boys?

One notoriously straightforward guy who knows no U-turn and the other who is up to mischief every other second? Nah! Shame on me. I have two very beautiful sons to call my own. oh, sure, I wish they’d stop roughhousing sometimes…and frankly, we’re definitely NOT on the same page about Power Rangers and Ultramans…but I only have to live with this for 20 years, right? Jared memorizes (the one in this picture) all the scripts and if you ask him if he wanted pancake or scrambled eggs for breakfast, he would say 'Green Samurai Mode - ON! Lock....and drop! The egg, please!"

You know what, come to think of it, I think I like being the only woman in the house, sometimes. I am unique and I have always yearned to stand out, right? Now, I am on a stage every single day – beat that! Hah!


All I can say is that I give each of my boys everything I have to give – the very best that I can. Would having a girl make a smidgen of difference? I don’t think so. In fact, I think if I had a girl, the girl would either turn out to be lesbian or a tomboy. Take your pick.

When my kids become teenagers, I hope I don’t turn into one of those ‘cool mom wannabes’ and do something stupid like this woman did. Apparently, Sylvia Johnson (40) tried too hard to be cool. Being a cool mom is one thing…but this is bordering on stupid.

 

I guess I am detached to my kids…and I can understand why she did the things she did. She wanted to be a cool mom so that she can make her kids proud or still remain in the lives of her kids. But heck, this is SURELY not the only way to do things!

 

I mean, having sex parties is hardly cool, is it? Maybe to teenage boys, eh? But to a 40-year-old woman? This is ridiculous.

 

And this is not all that the woman did. She has daughters and she held sex parties a whole year with teenage boy friends of her daughters’. She supplied drugs and alcohol to the boys, abused them, had sex with them…etc. In the end, her need to be a cool mom landed her in jail…for 58 years! Is 58 years worth all that effort? Couldn’t she try to be cool in another way?

 

Didn’t she understand that most of the boys she had sex with were 15 to 17 year old BOYS with raging hormones. They may not be infants or toddlers anymore, but they are physically ready to have sex, and they will jump at the chance of having sex with…just about anyone. Yes, including their friends’ mom! If she isn’t legally insane, she is emotionally unstable or mentally challenged.

 

'Cool mom' faces jail time (read more here)

marsha

www.marshamaung.com

www.allmomstuff.com

Now I know why I have been ostracized by all my unmarried, childless friends ever since I got married and had my kids! I never got to see it from others point of views before. Not that I am complaining but I now know why others think mothers are so boring and un-fun!

 

Only mothers can see and understand what mothers are going through. I brought a friend to the gym today and she was constantly thinking about her daughters. I am not complaining because I do the same thing! But because my kids are older now, if you can call 5 and 3 older and more independent (???), I can leave them for a while without them hanging on to my pants all the time! Even then, Jared (3) still sulks and threatens to injure himself or starve himself whenever I said I was going out. Truly, no one can truly understand what a mother has to go through unless she is a mother herself. We’re totally split between wanting to be with our kids and wanting to be by our ownselves. I mean, when we’re in, we’re thinking about having fun. When we’re out, we’re thinking of our kids. You can wait to get home when you’re out. And you can’t wait to get out when you’re home. Beat that for being confused!

 

I mean, when my friend talked about her kids, she really talked about them and I really saw the love (apart from my own love for my own kids) in her eyes. Mothers have to worry about breastfeeding, nappy changing, have to sneak time out for themselves, worry about being selfish and worry about whether the kids have cried their lungs out or not…blah blah blah…the list can go on!

 

All this for an hour of fun on our own?? And in the meantime, what’s daddy doing? And we have to literally beg and bribe our own mothers or in-laws to ‘take over command’ of the ‘mother ship’ for a short time while we take a breather! Singletons can have all the fun in the world without worrying about anything apart from whether they’ve taken the laundry in or not. The freedom. The liberty.

 

Where has it all gone?

 

And can you blame us for being boring? Can you blame us for wanting to talk about our own kids instead of blabbering on about what a wonderful butt the guy who just walked past us have? I mean, to us, mothers, we’re thinking, “You mean they have butts too? Gosh, you know, my Joshua has the cutest behind in the planet and I want to just sink my teeth into his butt all the time!”. And then the singleton will just stare at us like we’ve just dropped our false teeth on to the floor.

 

And whenever I go out to places like pubs and discos, I feel like part of the deco there, the bad patch, the part of the deco that the interior designer managed to miss. Maybe even the bouncer feels that we should be booted out of that place. I try my darnest to fit in most times, but with my gigantic bag (suitable for carrying nappies, rash creams, milk power and bottles) and baggy clothes (suitable for running after kids) and sandals (for sprinting after runaway toddlers), I just don’t fit in in discoteques anymore.

 

But as time goes on, I begin to fit in more. I bought a smaller bag and some clothes skimpy enough to pass me off as a 13-year-old and bought some make-up enough to make me look like a drag queen, and these days, nobody looks at me. That’s funny, most times, that would have been bad news. But to a mother, that’s good news.

 

I would slug the barman who calls me an Auntie. About a year back, after I gave birth to Jared (I had a lot of excess weight, then), I went out with a friend. I went to the bar to order a Tequila and the barman asked me in his Manglish (Malaysian English), “Auntie, you want tequila neat or pop?”.

 

Pop you on the head, you bloody buffoon! Which part of me looks like an Auntie???

 

I looked myself over and said, “Oh”. Forget the darn drink. I’ll go home and fix myself a glass of formula milk, instead, thank you very much!!

Let me make this very clear right from the start.

ONE, I am not against slimming. Neither am I for it.
TWO, I have nothing against Sheau Ching, the collumnist for the Star's (Malaysia's Most Popular Daily) 'Stories for My Mother'

So, now that the disclaimers are there, I'll let it rip.

I have been rod thin during my early years as a teenager. In fact, I was a fat baby and my mother isn't even sure what it was that she fed me during those growing up years that turned me into an scrawny teenager and young adult! Could be the milk powder, maybe, but I seriously doubt it.

Since, for weeks on end, Sheau Ching has been writing about how slimming ads are giving Malaysian (or women, in general) 'naughty needs' to be slim, I will add my 3 cents worth of nothingness here. First off, I agree that women don't NEED to be slim in order to be beautiful. In fact, I have seen some very confindent and beautiful women who tipped the scales! But not everyone is like that. They were a little rounder than me (and after giving birth to 2 kids, people still call me scrawny and my mother still tries to stuff fatty food down my throat), they were full of confidence and THAT was what made them beautiful. So, I agree that a person's dress size should not be the predetermining factor on whether a woman is pretty or beautiful or not......BUT.....

Gosh, being slim DOES make one feel good!

This is a fact. You're lighter on your feet, and when you sit down, there are no unsightly buldges round your waist. You know, the kind of buldge that you get when you wear a 'just right' jeans and then the top of the jeans just sort of squeezes those loose flesh up, causing buldges aroung your tummy. Fine and dandy if you were wearing a t-shirt, but what happens if you were wearing a tank top or halter top or maybe one of those 'skin-sticking' blouses? It will make you suck in your tummy and stop breathing the entire time you're sitting down!

I will issue another reminder here: I am not FOR slimming because I have never been to a slimming salon (although damn near signed up for one of those miraculous tummy slimming programs that costs you an arm, a leg and a kidney).

But being slim DOES have its advantages! You get wolf whistles...until your kids appear out of your car yelling, "Mummy, wait for us!". You also get to wear those clothes that models wear. And your friends say that you don't look any different from when you were 12! Kewl!

But slimming should not be for someone else, albeit, your husband, boyfriend or others. It should be for yourself. Focus should be placed on how YOU want to look, how good you want to feel about yourself....not how someone else will feel about you! We should also focus on how fitness and good grooming would do to us, instead of focusing on 'slimming'. Slimming will do nothing for anyone if you still appear in drags and slippers, right? You'll just look like a cicak (lizard). All skins and bones.

But combine a good figure with a healthy glow to your skin PLUS nice clothes (and maybe a dash of make-up), you'll feel like a million dollars.

And that's all that matters, isn't it? How YOU FEEL.....

Father's day is coming up and I am going to remind everyone that while we focus our attention on dad for now, this coming June 19th, we continue to celebrate Momhood.



$12.99 from CafePress. Design By Marsha Maung
Here's a Super Mom greeting card to tell some people you know how much you appreciate them. This pack comes in a pack of six and is good for just about anyone....from grandma to ma, from client to neighbor!


$12.99 from CafePress. Design By Marsha Maung
This is a Super Mom clock that...ahem...one of my personal favorites!! It's going to brighten up just about any room and furthermore, it will make a strong statement about you!!


$18.99 from CafePress. Design By Marsha Maung
I love this Baby Doll Tee, cause it's so....young and so energetic. Sexy and yet not overdoing it, you know what I mean? They're lovely, trust me. And besides, the design (my mua, of course!) is worth every single cent of it!! :-)

Blog first published : Monday, March 28th 2005

"Men are like that? They will, at least once in their lifetimes, consider becoming unfaithful to their spouse. It's like that. You'll just have to accept it!" - like hell I will!

I wasn't totally in agreement when a well-meaning relative spoke of this issue - it's ok for men to be unfaithful and not OK for women to be unfaithful. In fact, according to some elderly (much as I respect them, I don't always agree with them), women are not even supposed to leave their homes unless it's with their kids or husbands. What century are we living in anyway?

I mean, I know of a friend (hope friend does not read this post) who started going to Yoga classes a couple of weeks ago. Ended up, she came home with more than just a sprained ankle. She took home a fellow student and they snogged. No sex, just snogged. Is that wrong? I mean, she hopes that her partner won't find out about it and all...but is it wrong to snog someone when you're not legally attached to anyone?

Let's look at it this way, she felt guilty but at the same time, she felt deeply appreciated and extremely flattered that someone took to her. She would've loved to dive under the covers, into the pants of this man, but the fact remains is that she didn't.

If men were given the chance, do you want to place a bet with me on whether he would or would not?

Blog first published : Thursday, March 24th 2005

Apart from diapers, you mean? Even then, that's questionable since we do use sanitary napkins...which...erm, some kids liken to a nappy. I know of one mother who actually said it was a nappy to her kids! I was like....argh, eugh, gross...but she took it in her stride, raising her eyebrows asking, "What do YOU suggest I tell them?"

I don't know...but I told my son that it was none of his business and if he ever dares to touch those...erm, stuff or take it out of the room, I will personally see that his PC game privileges are taken away from him. And he refuses to look into my personal drawer after that.

I am no clothes-horse in person and it was only a couple of hours ago that my aunt in Dubai called me to tell me that I was sloppy. In my personal opinion, I am 'carelessly casual'. Hey, can you blame me for being so when I work at home and have to consider changing in and out of clothes often because there's pee, poo, spit, vomit...and what-have-you-nots on them. I do have to take care of my kids, you know! Donald Trump is, unfortunately, out of my league and he's not my father, so, I have to take care of the kids and work at home at the same time, ok?

And since I work at home, is there a point to dress up in coats and skirts....what, to please my computer?

Anyway, in my personal opinion, there are several things that women shouldn't wear, under ANY circumstance.

ONE, pigtails. I used to have long hair and whenever I had to perform one of those 'ah-sam' (women who have to perform lots of house chores) work, I would tie pigtails. Now I don't. Why? Well, one of my cousins once asked me if I was trying to behave, act and look like a maid. If I walked side-by-side with my maid, they'd think I was the maid cause even my maid does not wear pigtails.

TWO, overcoats. In this friggin' weather?? Come on. But even if I was living in a very cold country, I would only wear an overcoat if someone threatened to shave my eyebrows off, ok?

THREE, checkered red and black skirts. ....and look like I was wearing a kilt? Come on. Besides, Kilts are for Scottish MEN, mind you, not sensible women.

FOUR, socks that goes up to the knee. You want to look girly, go for plastic surgery, dear. Wearing socks that goes up to your knee will only make you look like you're out of your mind, not younger.

FIVE, frilly frocks. Lord, only people who belong in an asylum will want to wear a frilly frock. Or are you pretending to be a princess in the making? Look, if you're 30 ot 40 years old, wearing a frilly frock makes you look like you don't know the difference between your nose and your knee.

For aging women, the best thing is to go for simple and casual stuff....back to the kind of clothes I would wear anytime of the day. As long as it is kept simple, nice, tidy, classy and not creased like you'd been snogging with your fave bloke behind the curtain, you should be safe.

Coming from a person who would rather be shot in the toe than wear high heels, you might want to consider whether you want to listen to me yap on about FASHION or not.