Getting on Top of Things ...

The only difficult thing for me during the fasting month, usually, has been the amount of sleep debt that I would accumulate as a matter of course.

The hectic Ramadhan routine normally sees me making do with a daily average of 4 hours sleep.

The breaking of fast at 7.15pm, Terawih prayers at 8.30pm, moreh at 10pm and a breather (usually rehydration) before bed after midnight is not so bad if it wasn't for the sahur meal at 5.00am.

Once I get up for that one, I'd never the chance to go back to bed.

It'll be washing-up, then subuh prayers, then send the kids to school, then get ready for work.

After work, it's another mad rush to the Ramadhan bazaar of your choice (plenty of them - read Leen's happy review here) to buy food.

Thank God for the weekends, otherwise I'd never survive.

Well, this year it got very much tougher.

This year our maid, despite her frequent promises throughout her seven-year employment, decided to do a runner.

Way back in late August, we let her go back for a ten-day holiday to see to her supposedly sick Mum.

It was the same old story - no calls after a week, then the neighbours' maid came over to pass the message that she's decided not to come back.

It took a while before the whole story came out into the open - she went back not to a sick Mum but to a new husband.

We were a bit puzzled about the subterfuge - after all we had told her we got no problems if she was to marry, just give us a bit of notice - until we were told that the wedding had to be held in a bit of a rush.

Apparently there was a loaf baking in the oven.

Let me state here that it's most definitely not my yeast that's making the bread rise - avang dinch taste, occay?

Needless to say, the domestic front went haywire, what with Ramadhan and all.

It wasn't too hard to rediscover long-lost skills to handle chores that we had delegated all these years - laundry, ironing, cooking, cleaning, dusting, sweeping and the washing-up.

The problem was trying to find the fricking time to do them all.

Which made me wonder how the maid found the time to do the fricking at all, actually.


The hardest part, however, was getting Haikal to adjust.

Poor Haikal had been very much attached to the now-absent maid (ever since birth).

Now he's expected to make do without her and start staying in a nursery for the first time in his life.

All of this at the age of three.

He cried his eyes out in the first 10 days.

So much so that the first thing the nursery bibik taught him was to stuff enough Kleenex in his pockets to last for the day.

We had expected that but it didn't make it any easier.

In addition to this, he fell prey to a few bouts of fever and the occasional nightmare.

What worried me most was his poor appetite. He grew thinner and had to be coaxed to take food.

We also had to constantly reassure him that yes, we will pick him up from the nursery every day - without fail.

While he looked convinced by that, disconcertingly he started following me around the house whenever I'm home - a sure sign of insecurity.

Anyway all of us persevered and eventually he managed to adjust.

He's now rediscovered his appetite and he's filling out nicely again.

He is once more the loud and happy pipsqueak that we all love.


It's been a characteristic of Ramadhan these past few years, to throw up a few lessons on the need for strength of character in facing adversity.


This year, however, those lessons were driven home into us by the fortitude of a three-year old named Haikal.





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... and on top of The Table

Bolton B*ggers ... 1
(Davies 14th)

Le Wengerboys ... 3
(Eboue 26th, Bendtner 28th, Denilson 87th)

Another match against a physical side - this time against the notoriously dirty pair of the Two Kevins.

Kevin Nolan has never been more than a bruising battler while Kevin Davies was once touted as being good enough for England by his then manager, Big Sam.

Their goal typified how this partnership works - off a Bolton corner, ball heads for Davies' head, Toure and Davies jump, Nolan holds on to Toure's arm under Davies' body, ball goes in and ref fails to see anything wrong.

Tw*ts.

I was going berserk but the lads kept their cool and patiently work their way through the challenges.

Ade hits the post, then Shittu (crap name innit?) blocks a Bendtner shot from six yards, then Song hits the post.

I was going nuts.

Then we slotted in 2 goals within a minute and I calmed down some.

Then Davies clatters into Clichy and the lad gets sent to hospital.

Tw*t.

Twas edge of the seat stuff till the 87th when Denilson slots home after a surging Theo run.

Game over.

And we go top of the table ... Wheeeeeeeeeee!!! Gayat, weh ...





Arsene Wenger puts in a strict regime for the team to follow this year -

no Teletubbies anymore on mornings of match days.