“You don’t have to pack for me, Mom, I’ll do it myself,” Sarah said to me.

She was packing for camp.

My little 7-year-old going for camp in the jungle. In the wilderness. With tigers and bears. Ok I exaggerate. But she’ll be sleeping in a tent and showering in the river, so it’s camping fr fr.

As I saw her getting excited for her first big camp, my heart broke a little. My youngest daughter is growing up and I’m not ready for this. I looked at Idris and said to him, “You can’t grow up so fast like her, ok?” He replied an insincere “Ok.” I’ll accept, thank you.

“Are you going to miss me, Sarah?” I asked her.

“Hmmm yeah maybe, whatever.”

That night…

Read more

The rest of the girls laughed. But alas, I had to grow up… and eat vege and brown rice. 😅

How did I get like this? My parents always tried forcing vege on me when I was a kid.

I remember vividly a broccoli incident in a Chinese restaurant. My dad put some broccoli on my plate. When he wasn’t looking, I dropped them on the floor. I KNOW, I’M HORRIBLE. He saw my plate broccoli-less and he praised me for eating my vege. Then he scooped some more broccoli and said “Have some more.” Of course that meant more broccoli touched the floor that night. I let my parents sleep well that night thinking that their daughter now loves broccoli.

(I so badly want to go back to that restaurant and apologise. But they closed down already arghhhh).

So yeah, I was always that stubborn kid. The more they said eat it, the more I refused.

Then it just never became something I included in my lifestyle.

Suddenly I was 38.

My friends still look at me in amusement and wonder, and ask “How are you still functioning? Or even alive…?”

“Hey, I take lots of fruits for fibre ok!”

I try my best to choose better options for my food now. Celery juice, pakchoy with soy sauce, broccoli with oyster sauce (broccoli be like “ahh now she needs us”)...

But I know it’s not enough. Three decades of old habits, it’s gonna take some time, yalls.

So in the meantime, I’ll take any extra help I can get.

“For our second product, I’d really like something to help people with digestion,” I said in our meeting to discuss Just Gimme product lineup.

“By people, you mean you, right?” Fadza rolled eyes.

I’m not ashamed to say it. YES. ABSOLUTELY YES. I have constipation issues, bloating issues, allergy issues, I know my gut needs some help. But I can promise you I’m not the only one needing this help.

“Or we could use proper data for this,” our colleague said.

Smart guy.

“This was the top 3 wellness goals people wanted - we covered all three with our first product, Just Gimme Better Control,” he said as-a-matter-of-fact-ly.

Errr shouldn’t we celebrate?

Why does he say that so casually!?

“Digestion actually ranks up pretty high after, so Vivy’s pretty spot on,” he said.

All I heard was “Vivy’s pretty spot on.” 😌

(There was another higher one, but it takes longer to prove the effects so we’re working on it still)

So, with this data, we got to work with our partner. They’ve got an army of scientists and nutritionists to help us formulate the product. The first guinea pig was our tiny team including me.

“Expertly downing test sachets, able to work remotely.” - adding this to my CV.

When we were happy with the version, we went for our blind test. 100 women were invited to take on this blind test - they don’t know the brand, and they don’t know Vivy Yusof, all were hidden from them. So that we get non-biased results.

And guys….

The feeling of getting this kind of results. 😍 And the things they said, sighhhh will let Just Gimme’s instagram tell the story (please follow!).

Basically, I think we are spot on with this one. INSYAALLAH!

You know why I (biased-ly) like this product so much?

Because it has EVERYTHING you need in one sachet.

Prebiotics, probiotics, postbiotics, and five digestive enzymes. Normally you’d have to get separate products for this, but I wanted an all-in-one because Just Gimme is supposed to make it easy for people (I don’t even want products that you have to mix with water. Because I want Just Gimme to be a brand that’s convenient and on-the-go).

Named it “Less Drama” because literally, tummy discomfort is the start of all the drama and skin breakouts and moodiness and arguments in your day.

I’m glad I veto-ed the name because otherwise it would’ve been one of these…

So, Less Drama digests better for you, adds good bacteria to your gut, adds the food for your good bacteria, and just helps with overall gut health. And boyyy did we pay a lot of money for these ingredients - we only chose the ones that are clinically studied and those are premium ingredients we needed to import. 💸

Worth it though.

For me now, toilet schedule ✅ flat tummy ✅ no more complaining about tummy discomfort ✅ no more sluggishness ✅and guysssss… I didn’t expect this side effect but my skin has been skinning okkkk, I think it has to do with good gut = good skin. ✅

Proof that even my friends noticed my better skin!

Anyway, that’s enough hard sell.

Please get a tin to try.

Happy having Less Drama in your life!

Leave a comment

Before you go…

Let me know you’ve read this. Comment “green tin” on my latest post at @sincerelyvivy AND I WILL CHOOSE ONE OF YOU TO GET A FREE TIN.

See you there! :)

By Monday, my battery was low. Needed a recharge. So I thought since I had a free morning, let’s book a massage. Fadza was out, kids were in school… why not. My body agreed, without hesitation.

“60 mins or 90 mins?” the lady asked sweetly.

My heart answered 90 minutes but my brain stopped it from being greedy. “60 mins,” I replied.

As I was happily choosing my oil, I had no idea something was happening in my home. Without a care in the world at that spa, I was deciding between lavender oil or lemongrass oil…

It was 60 minutes of pure bliss.

But at home, unbeknownst to me, it was 60 minutes of the total opposite.

As I drove home, smiling, I was about to face something that would turn that smile upside down in a nanosecond.

Hmmm should I stop for coffee? There’s a coffee cart right there. Support local, I thought.

La, la, la….

The moment I got home, I heard some sounds.

What was that?…

Read more

So my court trial started last week.

Words I never thought I’d ever say in my life.

I could already see my friends messaging me, not sure what to say. They want to be there for me, but they also don’t want to say the wrong thing.

“It’s ok, you can just ask me,” I say, knowingly.

“HOW ARE YOU OMGGGGG I WANNA CRY FOR YOU,” they burst out.

God bless them.

I mean, to be fair, even I wouldn’t know what to say to someone like me. I’d just make doa, really. There is literally nothing I can do right now. I can’t defend myself because it’ll be contempt of court if I speak about the details of the case. I can’t stop the media from reporting facts, even though without context. I can’t stop the public from discussing the facts reported, and I don’t blame them because they don’t have any context. The what is shared but the why isn’t. So this season is literally… sit down and watch people slander you, for however long the court case will be.

I mean, that is one hard season.

It feels like this:

“What you’re going through isn’t normal,” my best friends, comforting me in such a… unique way. 😂

Uh, thanksssss?

But they’re right.

It isn’t normal.

Let’s just call it out for what it is. It’s brutal and violating.

And cherry on top - extremely public too. Bank accounts of a private company, all laid out to laymen like you and me, all over the world. Without any context. Allowing people’s imaginations to go wild.

The court process is as such that prosecution has to lay out their case first and of course the juicy info gets singled out and everything else gets omitted. And nowhere in this process am I allowed to rebut or argue or defend myself with my own evidence. So if you see me not saying anything, please know that it’s because I’m legally not allowed to.

So yeah, not a normal life right now.

But what my best friends are doing is validating my feelings.

Which is nice.

Then they’ll continue with some words of wisdom, pulling me back to Allah swt and rallying me on to make sure I pass His test through patience and prayer.

Twice, Allah swt repeated the recipe to handling His tests in Surah Al-Baqarah:

“And seek help through patience and prayer. Indeed, it is a burden except for the humble.” - Quran, 2:45

“O believers! Seek comfort in patience and prayer. Allah is truly with those who are patient.” - Quran, 2:153

I really do appreciate all your kinds words. From my loved ones to my followers DM-ing me to give words of encouragement. For you who don’t know what to say to someone in this situation, here are some things people have said that really strengthened me:

“God chose you for a big test because He’s preparing you for something greater, you just don’t know it yet.” - many of you said this to me. 🤲🏻

“God tests the ones He loves, so worry when life’s too easy.” - my friend Laila gave me a good perspective. 😮

“You look nice in court today!” - always welcomed to say this, guys. 😌

“I’m sending over emotional-damage brownies!” - again, always welcomed. 🤤

And many more.

But one that I least expected was from my 11-year old Mariam. You know how savage she can be, from small until now, with her sarcastic remarks and eyerolls. We were eating roti canai when Fadza and I were updating Daniel and Mariam about our court trial, and what’s happening on social media.

While chomping on her roti canai, she said, “But you know right, Mom….”

She continued….

Read more

PART 2:

So there I stood.

18-year old me. At the reception of this campus building, with nothing but a tiny suitcase.

The interview for Oxford University wasn’t like the normal interview. The interview to get into their law school (during my time) was a two-day ordeal. You come and check in the day before, mingle with the other applicants (i.e. your competition) and stay overnight in their campus. Which I guess is pretty cool to get a preview of studying there. You get to walk around the campus, you get catered meals in their cafeteria and you get to speak to the professors you admire (if you’re that nerdy or suck-up-py).

“Yusof… Yusof…” the lady looked for my name on her sheet.

“Down at the bottom,” I suggested. It’s either V or Y, I’m always at the bottom of every sheet.

“Ah, yes, Vivy Yusof, there you are, love,” she said, as British as can be.

She gave the key to my room and gave me directions. I looked around, everyone had keys in their hands, trying to find their own rooms. When I got to my room, I was impressed. The room was so nice - spacious, wooden furniture, a single bed, a desk, with a view of greenery. Closet... was small. But everyone lives in sweaters and jeans here. My heels felt out of place. #shortpeopleproblems

I unpacked and sat on the bed. Ok now what? I had no friends there and nothing to do.

Go to the common room and mingle, Vivy, I told myself.

Ok time to put my friendly face on. Friendly, but not too friendly they think you’re not smart. I practiced my “I’m friendly but I’m also really smart, ask me questions about philosophy but actually please don’t” face.

In the common room, a few candidates were already there. One was reading a dictionary like what on earth... there was a group of tall matsallehs in one corner talking. I went to get a (halal) drink at the pantry and sat down with them, thick-faced. Can’t remember the conversation, but they all seemed relaxed and confident. The alcohol probably had a thing or two to do with that. I don’t drink, so immediately, I felt out of place.

After a while, I went back to my room and waited for dinner time. I wasn’t sure about the halal-ness so I think I ended up eating bread. Sat with some people but didn’t feel any chemistry whatsoever. I usually can make friends easily so this was weird for me. Sigh, this place really wasn’t for me.

I spotted a few elder people around just watching us - oh my god, were they part of the interview team? Maybe the interview began the moment you checked in at the reception. Bet there were some in the common room earlier, just watching how confident these applicants were – and then there was me clutching my soda nervously nodding along. Maybe they were observing how we immersed ourselves in conversations, how smart we sounded – how Oxford-y we were? I think 38-year old Vivy could probably do just fine now in those situations. But 18-year old Vivy just wanted to curl herself and roll back to the train station.

The next day was the formal interview sessions.

There were two - one was a personality one, and another was the legal one.

Believe it or not, I found the latter easier than the former. The personality interview haunts me till today.

Read on.

The legal interview was simple – they give you a few paragraphs to read, and then ask you questions about it. It was twenty years ago so forgive my memory, but what I remember was it was a case about peaceful vs non-peaceful demonstrations (riots). What constitutes a peaceful demonstration and what are the limits that then makes it not peaceful. One discussion I had with the interviewer was whether I agreed with the judge’s statement, and why. And then I remember her asking me if I were the judge, how would I determine how many metres away from the road/highway/building is a peaceful demonstration – i.e. how do I know if it’s 10 metres, or 100 metres or 40 metres etc. And what is defined by “causing harm” – if the protestor brings a gun, it’s clear, but what if he brings a sharp pencil – would that fall under potential of “causing harm”?

My heart: WHAT THE, HOW ON EARTH WOULD I KNOW THAT.

My mouth apparently said something smart because I passed to get to the next stage - the personality interview.

“Is there anything I should prepare for the personality interview?” I asked the Oxford University staff.

“No. Just be yourself, love.”

Gulp.

You see, you hear some scary stories about Oxbridge interviews, unsure if they’re myths or not. There’s a myth that they put you on the other end of the room and ask you to shout the answer. There’s a myth they pretend to give confused expressions so you will get more nervous and doubt yourself. There’s a myth that they ask the randomest questions like “Why is the manhole round?” and “Why do we have eyebrows?”. The seniors will scare you like this so it makes the interview prep even more daunting. Because you literally can’t prepare for what you can’t anticipate.

2pm, Room XXX – my sheet wrote.

I don’t even remember if I even had lunch that day because I was just too nervous. 1.30pm, I think I was already at the waiting area. One of those rare occasions in life that I was actually early.

A candidate walked out and looked traumatized. I felt 100 times worse.

SOMEONE PASS ME A BREATHING BAG PLEASE.

“Yuuuussss….of?” the staff called out to the waiting room.

“Me,” I croaked, as I stood up and walked to the room. My limbs felt extra heavy that moment, resisting the interview room.

When I stepped in, my jaw almost dropped at what I saw before me.

There was a…

Read more

There are three to choose from.

Get yours now on this link and get ready to look all cozied up! <3

Had a conversation with SIL about our kids’ future. We both have 13 year olds now – bizarre. How on earth did that happen? Wasn’t Daniel just a little baby like two weeks ago? In three years, he’s off to college?

When we talked about the universities we’d like to consider as a family, it made me think about my own university journey.

I only decided on a law degree shortly before the applications had to go in. As a degree, I was contemplating Economics, Business, anything maths-y, many others. The pressure of having to decide just made me go “Ok, Law!” one day, as if I was choosing a lunch dish at a restaurant. I really saw it as “just take whatever degree”, because I knew in the end, I wasn’t going to choose any of these as a career.

I remember picking my unis – my family had chosen the UK as a destination because at the time, UK had the most prestigious unis. Now I think the world has changed a bit – wherever Allah swt decides for him, I’m happy to let Daniel explore. My parents gave me the freedom to choose which unis I’d like, so I remember ticking in the UCAS website all the famous London unis (I knew I wanted to be in the city) – LSE, UCL, Kings, Queen Mary.

I had to choose five so one more university option was needed. Let’s choose an Oxbridge one, for the fun of it, what’s the harm – Oxford or Cambridge? You could only pick one, so it was like a gamble.

I hadn’t been to any of these unis, so I really had no idea what I was picking. While others might have done their research and uni visits forced by parents, I wasn’t very interested because I just wanted a quick degree and ciao to start my business. Any degree that was four years like engineering or medicine, no thank you. I was only looking at degrees that were three years or less. If there was a one-year degree, trust I would’ve taken it. Apparently, I was rushing for adulthood. 😂

“Oxford sounds smarter,” I thought to myself. Ok let’s pick Oxford. Again, as if I was choosing a lunch dish.

With those five picked, I sent my application, along with my AS Level grades and my cover letter. I got my A’s, but I also knew everyone applying to these unis also got their A’s. So my cover letter had to be outstanding. It was four or five paragraphs about myself, and I remember going through it multiple times with my tutor to make sure it was as perfect as possible.

I remember writing something like L is for xxxxx, A is for xxxx, W is for xxxxx to spell LAW – it was SO LAME, but in a sea of cover letters, you must do these silly things so they’ll remember you. You’re a head girl? Thousands of other cover letters say the same thing. I was more academic than I was sporty, so I lacked severely in my extra co-curricular achievements. Does Head of House Decorating Competition during Sports Day count? 😬 So yeah… in a sea of standout kids I couldn’t beat, I knew my cover letter had to stand out more – the writer in me came out to fight.

Weeks in, I would check the UCAS website daily. I was obsessed because the competitiveness in the school made me want to be accepted to these unis. Slowly, my A Levels mates got answers from these unis, and that made me more anxious.

Waiting, waiting… finally, I got the answers.

I got into UCL.

I got into Queen Mary.

I got into Kings.

I got into LSE.

The cover letter worked! I got into all the London ones, so I now have to choose which one. I was so happy, and in my heart of hearts, I knew I wanted LSE. It just sounds cool. “I’m from LSE,” I chanted to myself, picturing myself in an LSE sweater. Ooohh that sounds good. This is what happens when you let a child decide her fate at 18 years old. Decision-making process is… alarmingly simple. Maybe even suss.

I didn’t even think about Oxbridge because I already got the uni I wanted.

Suddenly… I got a letter from them.

“Dear Miss Vivy Yusof, You have been shortlisted and are invited to an interview process in Such and Such Campus on So and So date…”

WHAT?!!!

I got shortlisted into Oxford for Law?!

Huhh?!!!

I dreaded telling my parents because I really didn’t want to go there. It would be a nice line on my resume, but I really wanted to be in London city. But of course, I had to tell my parents and sure enough – I found myself standing in Such and Such Campus on So and So date. All alone. Nervous. Lonely. Scared. I took the bus and walked slowly into the location, dragging one small suitcase behind me.

At the time, the Oxford town was rainy and dark and gloomy. Not the welcome I was hoping for. Three years of this? It made me really want to get on the bus and turn back.

But I thought about my parents and how proud they’d be.

So I gathered my courage, put on a smile and walked to the receptionist.

“Hi, my name is Vivy Yusof. I’m here for my interview,” I said confidently.

To be continued in next entry…

Leave a comment

Before you go…

Let me know you’ve read this. Comment “and then what happened?” on my latest post at @sincerelyvivy. :)

See you there! :)

Yesterday was just one of those days for me.

The please “Not Today” kind of days.

I’d call it a bad day.

Here’s what happened:

Read more

I can’t look at jambu the same way again.

It was one sunny afternoon. The sun was intense and I really needed something refreshing.

Passed by a fruits stall with an array of cold cut fresh fruits.

Pear. Mango. Watermelon. Jambuuuuu.

Ooohhh that jambu looks amazing.

Fresh, cold, crunchy guava. With some asam powder. Mmm yum.

I salivated as I walked closer to the stall.

“Assalamualaikum,” I greeted the guy behind the counter. “Nak jambu satu.”

He looked at me and responded with an answer that opened up a huge Pandora’s box.

He said…

Read more

I felt like I was losing her because I wasn’t where she was.

When you want to get closer to Islam, you’ll naturally go through some changes. Externally, you might look different – a change of wardrobe perhaps, or less makeup. Internally too, you might feel different – you might speak less so there’s less chance of gossip, you might limit your interactions with the opposite sex, your outlook on life might change. Or will change.

And this transition, especially if abrupt, may scare your friends.

I was in the mosque one day, and my phone beeped with messages from groupchats and one in particular caught my eye.

It had the word “f****g” in it.

You see, I grew up never really accepting vulgar words. My parents would “chili” my mouth, I think. So I grew up never really being able to say those words. But I tolerated it when others around me use these words.

Somehow, something changed in me that day.

The more I learned, the more I realized that the Quran and sunnah cannot be any clearer.

It was narrated from Abu Hurairah that the Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) said:

“A man may speak a word that angers Allah and not see anything wrong with it, but it will cause him to sink down in Hell the depth of seventy autumns.”

– Sahih, Sunan Abd Majah

That’s seventy years. And that’s one F word. It’s so scary, guys, we just don’t realise it.

Islam reminds us always not to slander others, backbite, gossip or say vulgar words. Even if you’re included in the conversation, and you don’t leave, you’re complicit.

So I did something I never thought I’d do.

I left the groupchat.

A groupchat consisting of some of my closest friends, who are so dear to me.

I knew the language didn’t sit well with me anymore. But I thought I surely can’t impose my values and force others to change. Who was I to do that. This was my change, not theirs. So instead of telling them to stop, I thought I’d just remove myself instead.

What happened next?

Read more

I went on a trip that required me to be away for a month. One of the first thoughts that came to my head is “How fast can I pack?” “What about the kids?”

I’ve never left them for that long. The longest was maybe two weeks for a short course many years ago, but I only had two kids then. This time, I’m leaving four kids.

But really, support system is everything.

The first ones to offer help were my mother in law and my sister. They both were my rocks while I was away, literally took turns living in my home. (Mom hears “taking care of grandkids” and suddenly has more Tupperware to reorganise at home 😂)

My friends were awesome – they took the kids out on the weekends to give my MIL and sister some room to breathe. Four kids is… a lot.

There was also one gift from above that helped me a whole lot.

And that was…

Read more

“I notice you don’t wear your wedding ring anymore,” a friend pointed out.

She added, “Everything ok?”

I looked at my fingers. She was right – they were bare and ring-less. I tried to find the right words to answer her, but I was too embarrassed the truth might open a can of worms. So I just went “Oh yeah haaa,” and changed the subject.

The truth is I don’t wear my wedding ring anymore because…

Read more

Really? Let’s see.

It’s been a few months now since we changed the kids’s school, and I want to share some of the changes I see.

The only reason we changed is because we wanted an Islamic school for them. I’ve shared the journey of switching schools if you’re interested in the back story:

We were worried to change but then we realized sokay la, out of four of them, at least one will be fine and take care of the rest. 😂

It was painful for the first few weeks, lots of questions, some pushbacks, some tantrums. But this is also where parents have to stay strong and stay firm. No matter how painful it is to see your children go through hardship of adjusting, stay on course. DO. NOT. SOFTEN.

Fadza needed some reminders. 🙄

#nasibbaikgothiswife

After putting them in an Islamic school, here’s what I see:

Read more

The day we wake up eager.

The day all our dreams come true.

So what are we doing today? Play video games? Gossip at lunch?

NAURRRRRR.

We…

Read more

Yours truly is taking a break for a month.

For my paid subscribers, our Tuesday dates still resume! I’ve prewritten them, like a good girl. 😇 So please read every Tuesday ok? I’ll come back and quiz you. 😜

Free Fridays will be on a pause till end of June.

Don’t miss me too much!

In case you forget how I look like by June, here’s a reminder:

K byeeeee.

Leave a comment

There was one question I always get asked.

“Vivy, who is your inspiration in life?”

I cringe now when I see what I chose as my answer. Like I am legit embarrassed and want to hide under my blanket.

I answered, “Well I like a lot of people, but my current inspiration is….”

Guess who.

Read more

It’s a new school for us so it’s my first Mother’s Day experience here. I have four kids and I’ve never seen a school care this much about Mother’s Day – it was all done by the teachers and the students. And vice versa, for Teacher’s Day, the moms and kids also plan for the teachers. It’s heartwarming – very the community vibes here.

So moms were invited last Friday to come for a little tea session with the kids. When I got there, I was so touched. There was a snack station with labels that the kids made themselves. There were fruit sticks that the kids cut themselves and made like skewers. There was a flower station where we got to make a bouquet with our child. There was poem-reading by the kids to their moms.

It was all so sweet!

Then… this happened.

“Miss Vivy, come and join this activity,” the teacher invited me to a board that says “Guess The Mummy.”

So you have to guess which one you are, drawn by your child.

Some moms had stick legs, some moms had 8 strands of hair, some moms had crowns on their heads, some moms had big circles as bodies… it was all very ummm, artistic.

“Guess which one is from Idris,” the teacher said.

Idris stood next to me, holding my hand. I carried him so he could see the board.

“Ok, let’s see. Which one is Mommy,” I said to Idris, while I scanned each drawing.

Am I the one in that floral dress? Aww. Or maybe I’m the one with the crown? He thinks I’m a queen. Ok maybe the stick figure with the hearts.

I chose that last one.

The teacher and Idris shook their head.

Oh wrong.

Oh, must be the queen then.

“You are this one,” the teacher said, holding back her laugh.

I’m… this?

No, cannot be.

Idris looked at me and nodded and looked so proud of himself.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

There is no way I look like this.

I alwayssss smile at you, Idris. Where got I look like this?

WHERE IS THE REST OF MY BODY?!

“Oh…” was what I could manage as I gulp down what I really wanted to say.

“Awww, Idris, thank you,” I kiss him, with gritted teeth.

He hugged me back and didn’t leave my side the entire event, wanting to just spend time with Mommy. Kinda sweet, I guess. Could’ve given me a floral dress or a crown, but NEVER MIND, IDRIS.

I guess a half-eaten cookie looks cute, too?

Leave a comment

Before you go…

Let me know you’ve read this. Comment “Come on, Idris…” on my latest post at @sincerelyvivy.

See you there! :)

Private Era’s just over a couple weeks old and Just Gimme restocked Better Control so it’s been packing mode for us. It’s still a very lean team so all of us are doing everything from getting boxes from the lorries to running to Mr DIY to get more tape to getting everyone’s coffee orders.

We’ve been running on caffeine and adrenaline - it’s great. 😂

But one thing that’s not great is that…

Read more

Errr….

I look at my kids, especially my small ones.

How do I stay away from them? 😂

There’s no such thing as no stress when you’re a mom!

I don’t know how other moms experience it, but I had a moment where I had to sit and breathe because I was getting angry at the two small ones. They’re constantly fighting with each other. And then I felt guilty because... well, they’re just kids. And I asked myself why I’m always telling them off so hard about their mess and their slowness in eating their meals and spilling stuff etc.

But if I don’t tell them off, nothing moves in this house.

Then I saw this:

This was sent to me by Fadza btw. So I guess that’s permission to keep yelling. 😂

The hardest is the mornings - to get all four kids woken up, pray and get ready. Getting all their clothes and preparing breakfast for the little ones, while getting myself ready too. And picking up the little toys on the floor as I pass them. While quickly washing the dishes, when we’re already late because the kids took too long to eat. Mind you, I don’t have a helper anymore so I’m also the helper. On top of being Mom trying to discipline, teach and nurture the kids.

“Why are you still sleeping?”

“Yes, already snoozed 10 minutes!”

“Why are you taking so long in there?”

“Have you eaten your vitamins?”

“Put on your clothes now!”

“Stop wetting the entire bathroom!”

“Enough looking in the mirror!”

“Comb your hair again.”

The hardest one to manage is of course, Idris. He takes his time and dances around the house naked so that I’ll catch him. He plays in the shower and sprays the entire bathroom because he says he’s a fireman putting out a fire. Then he refuses to clean up his toys and asks why should he do so (I’m so tired of explaining that we have to be responsible for our own toys). Then I delegate dressing him to the other siblings but he throws a fuss and says he only wants Mommy. Which delays the other 99 things Mommy needs to do.

So you can bet I’m shouting the entire beautiful journey we call Morning.

In the car, I find comfort in listening to morning adhkar (zikir) to calm myself down and also to remind myself to be grateful.

Because I know at the end of the day what a privilege it is to have them. They’re not mine, they’re temporary gifts from Allah swt that can be taken away from me anytime. So while I get the honor of having my children, I better soak up all the sweetness there is in motherhood (even if I have to dig deep sometimes…). My friend said to me, “One day, you won’t have these rushed mornings anymore and the house will be so quiet, too quiet.”

😭

Ok ok, I love them.

That night, Sarah hugged me at bedtime and said “Mommy, I think you’re an awesome Mom because you take good care of us.”

Sorry, guys. That’s my melted heart puddle on the floor. Let me get a mop.

She has never said this to me, and I really think it’s because we have no helper now so she sees how much more I do for them.

I gathered my emotions and said, “I love taking care of you guys.”

And she smiled herself to sleep after that.

All they see in the morning is a stressed mother getting the entire household together - that’s what they go to school with. ☹️ But actually in the overall picture, I am a very happy and grateful mother. 😍 Do they know this? I had a realisation that maybe, I’ve never told them this. I should tell them that I love being around them, I love taking care of them and even through all the times Mommy is stressed, I would never trade being their mother for anything else.

Idris then comes to me, this big troublemaker of mine.

He wraps his arms around me, plonks himself onto my lap and says sleepily, “Idris love Mommy.”

Argh these kids. They sure know how to wrap your heart around their tiny powerful little fingers. I sleep hugging him that night. Knowing very well that the next morning I’ll be shouting at him again to get ready for school.

Happy Mother’s Day, yalls.

Leave a comment

Before you go…

Let me know you’ve read this. Comment happy mother’s day! on my latest post at @sincerelyvivy.

See you there! :)

How can He be the Most Loving when He lets bad things happen to me?

… is what some of us might feel when we go through challenges in life.

I’m sure you have your own tests in life. Each of us will have our own curated “menu” of tests that we each have to go through. And many times, we look at each other’s tests and think “Omg I could never go through what you went through.”

Someone said to me before, “If I went through what you went through, I think I’d kill myself.” Fuhhhhh. Well, thankfully, I never thought to do that. 😅 But honestly when I look at some other people’s tests in life, I think “God I could never imagine going through that.” Truly truly truly, we have all been chosen for tailor-made tests that God knows we each uniquely have the strength to bear. And no one’s test is smaller or bigger than the other.

But we’re still human.

Yes, maybe we can bear the tests.

We have no choice, really.

But how is it that we can feel God is Most Loving when we go through them? You love me, therefore You put me through pain? Hmmmm. Make it make sense.

… was what I thought initially too.

See, when I went through a big test, I got a lot of DMs from strangers online and the summary of it is largely this:

“Allah must love you because He’s testing you like this.”

I had to read that a few times because I just couldn’t see the logic. What I went (still going) through was so scary, so public and extremely humiliating – you’re telling me THIS is love?

Read more