Ketika Suami Dirawat

Pada saat ini saya sendirian di rumah, menulis di laptop tanpa ada anak kecil yang ngerecokin. Seminggu yang lalu, ini jelas akan terasa seperti kemewahan. Sekarang? Masih bisa disebut kemewahan in a way sih, tapi saya sakit leher.

Begini ceritanya.

Sekitar seminggu yang lalu, suami saya demam. Panasnya sempat turun setelah dikasih paracetamol, lalu naik lagi. Rabu pagi, kami ke IGD. Setelah diperiksa dan diberi obat, suami saya seger lagi. Kami pun nyoblos dan siangnya terbang ke Bangka buat … liburan. Lol. Abis tiket udah dibeli dan suami saya bilangnya udah sehat, ya udah.

Ternyata, selama di Bangka suami saya sakit lagi. Siang hari lemes, malam hari demam. Saya yang ngurusin pun ikut kurang tidur.

Foto berdua aja karena papanya Amel terlalu lemes buat manjat batu

Sepulang dari Bangka, kami langsung ke rumah mertua karena sudah terlalu malam untuk pulang ke Bogor. Suami saya naik turun panasnya. Besoknya sempat disuruh tinggal di rumah mertua dulu aja sampai agak enakan, tapi at the same time alergi Amel lagi kambuh, entah abis makan apa tuh anak.

Mata bengkak karena alergi

Karena obat alerginya ada di rumah Bogor, kami pun memutuskan pulang. Saya nyetir, sementara di kursi belakang Amel matanya bengkak dan papanya menggigil. Belum lagi hujan ga kira-kira derasnya dan jarak pandang saya pendek sekali.

Sesampainya di rumah, Amel langsung saya kasih antihistamin, sementara suami saya tidur. Menjelang sore, dua-duanya sudah tampak baikan. Malah saya yang kecapekan dan mulai batuk pilek. Saya pun minum Rhinos dan tidur lebih awal.

Sekitar jam 10 malam, saya dibangunkan oleh suami. Badannya panas lagi dan napasnya sesak. Kalau sudah urusan sesak napas, saya ga berani ambil risiko deh. Saya langsung packing baju dan menyuruh suami masuk mobil. Amel juga dibawa karena ga ada yang bisa dititipin dan saya ga mau mengulur waktu lebih jauh lagi untuk nunggu saudara datang. Lagi tidur, anaknya dibopong dan ditaruh di car seat. Dia sempat terbangun, tapi untungnya di tengah jalan tidur lagi.

Dengan panik dan hidung meler, saya nyetir ke rumah sakit. Ga kebayang betapa leganya ketika kami sampai. Saya langsung mengantar suami ke IGD, lalu memarkir mobil dan membopong Amel. Untungnya ada perawat yang melihat saya menggendong Amel yang lagi tidur dan bilang, “Anaknya ditidurin di sini aja dulu, Bu.” Jadi saya bisa mengurus administrasi tanpa harus repot menggendong.

Numpang tidur di IGD

Unsuprisingly, suami saya harus dirawat. Begitu sudah masuk kamar perawatan, suami saya menyuruh agar saya dan Amel pulang saja buat istirahat, ga perlu menemani di rumah sakit. Tapi saya sudah teler banget ga kuat nyetir. Lagi pula, ga kebayang capenya kalau besoknya saya harus nyetir balik ke rumah sakit melewati Jalan Baru Bogor yang macetnya oh em ji gara-gara lagi ada pembangunan tol. Jadilah malam itu saya dan Amel tidur di sofa di kamar perawatan suami saya.

Bocil kasian amat sih

Oke, tepatnya Amel doang yang tidur di situ. Kebayang ga sih sempitnya kaya apa? Udah miring-miring, tetap aja saya ditendang-tendang oleh Amel, ga berhasil tidur deh. Paginya saya sakit leher.

Amel bangun dengan ceria dan asik main-mainin tombol pengatur sandaran electric bed. Tapi menjelang siang, thank goodness dia dibawa oleh ayah saya supaya saya bisa fokus mengurus suami.

Hari ini mertua saya datang untuk gantian jaga sehingga saya bisa pulang dulu. Lumayan deh bisa tiduran dan oles-oles Counterpain; ini leher udah sakit banget setelah dua malam tidur di sofa.

Liquid matte lipsticks and other things I never get to share with my mother

​I can only recall that it rained all day and all night, and that when I asked my father whether the heaven was crying, he couldn’t bring himself to reply. Six years later my mother’s absence remained in the air around us, a deafening silence that I had not yet learned to stifle with words.

– Carlos Ruiz Zafon, The Shadow of The Wind

Before my mother passed away, the finality of death was a concept I could not fully grasp, no matter how many times I read The Fault in Our Stars and cried over Augustus Waters. It was like, yeah everyone will die and the universe will be cold and dark and empty, and so on and so forth–I mean, it all seemed hypothetical back then. 

So when the reality of my mother’s passing started to sink in, I was taken aback by, well–final–her abscence was. Like, you can’t talk to her, ever again. Want to show her a photo of your toddler wearing a cape to the carwash? Good luck finding someone else who cares. Find a liquid matte lipstick she would have loved? Too bad, she did not even get the chance to know what Colourpop is.

I’ve stopped believing in heaven/hell and rivers of honey years ago, but still, it felt somewhat cruel to say: that’s it, she simply stopped existing. It’s one thing to believe that nothing survives physical death; and quite another when it’s your own family member. And I understand why some people took comfort in the idea of an eternal garden. Whatever to make it less painful. Because it’s that difficult, losing your loved ones.

Following my mother’s passing, my husband and I started to wonder what if one of us dies first. You may get married again of course, I remember saying, I’ll be too dead to care. And that was about as far as the conversation went. We seem to have a knack for avoiding unpleasant topics.

Anyway, back to my mother. She always trusted me to make my own life decisions, whether it’s setting out to write a book or showing my hair. And I’m thankful for that, because I don’t want to blame my parents for everything that goes wrong in my life. It’s crazy, when I think about it now, just how much faith she had in me. Heck, I don’t have that much faith in myself. Just look at this tweet:

(I haven’t put down a single word since hitting 20k word count. Told myself I needed a break. But really, who am I kidding. What I really need to do is sit down and think of how to make the bits and pieces fall into place.)

I never get to share this motherhood experience with her. If she were here, I think we would have so many things to talk about. I think she would have loved liquid matte lipsticks.

It’s Not Much But It’s Home – Part 2

​Setelah 4 tahun ditinggali, akhirnya rumah saya direnovasi juga. Saya dan suami sudah bikin anggaran dan beli bahan-bahannya sejak awal tahun, tapi pekerjaannya sendiri baru dimulai sebulan yang lalu gara-gara kami di-PHP-in mulu sama tukang bangunan. Pas ngomongin rencana renovasi, doi iya-iya aja; janjinya mau muncul abis Lebaran, eh taunya kemudian bilang masih ada kerjaan di tempat lain. Janji lagi mau muncul bulan September, terus mundur lagi dan lagi. Sampe sekarang orangnya ga nongol-nongol, lol.

Karena bete nungguin, saya sempet nyari jasa tukang bangunan lewat Beres.id. Ada beberapa pihak yang berminat, tapi sebelum sempet interviu, mertua ngasih kabar ada kenalannya, sebut saja Pak K, yang mau ngerjain. Ya udah, akhirnya saya batalin ketemuan dengan tukang online. Setelah dibatalin, Pak K ngasih kabar mau pulang kampung dulu. Gah #+$&#+$_#&!

Anyway. Tapi akhirnya Pak K nongol juga dan rumah saya jadi direnovasi. Awalnya saya rada khawatir Amel rewel dan ga bisa tidur siang karena berisik. Apa lagi renovasinya mencakup wilayah dapur, jadi bakal susah masak. Tapi untungnya kekhawatiran saya tidak terbukti karena bocahnya ternyata suka sekali jadi mandor. Tidur pun tetap pulas. Makan tetap lahap meski menu seadanya.

Ini penampakan dapur saya sebelumnya:

Before

Setelahnya:

After

Apa bedanyaaaaa? Lol. Bagian situ emang ga diapa-apain. Baru bagian di samping meja makan yang berubah. Dindingnya dijebol dan dibuat menyatu dengan ruangan di sebelahnya supaya lebih lega.

Before
After
Meja kantin style

Selama beberapa hari saya sibuk nyari kitchen orgamization hacks. Tadinya saya pake Ikea SKUBB hanging shoe organizer buat menyimpan bumbu-bumbu, mi instan, plastic wrap dll. Gampang, hemat tempat, dan murah. Karena pocketnya cukup dalam dan banyak muatannya, saya sering asal cemplungin barang-barang ke situ. Pas beres-beres kemarin barulah saya sadar meski dari luar kelihatan rapi-rapi aja, di dalam pocketnya itu berantakan sekali, lol.

Ya udah terpaksa keluar duit sedikit (banyak deng) buat beli rak gantung, tempat bumbu, dan keranjang-keranjang.

Meja serbaguna hasil hunting di elevenia

Itu set pisau suami saya yang beliin. Pink bukanlah warna yang bakal saya pilih buat perkakas dapur.

Kabinet atas

Beberapa item terpaksa ditaruh di kabinet atas karena space yang masih tersisa ya cuma di situ. Sebenernya saya kurang suka dengan kabinet atas; posisinya terlalu tinggi buat saya raih dan males harus naik-naik kursi dulu. Pengen deh punya kitchen set yang ga perlu pake kabinet atas. Dan kitchen island. Dan stainless steel countertop sekalian. Mungkin buat renovasi 4 tahun lagi, lol.

Selain dapur, kamar mandi juga direnovasi, tapi ga saya foto soalnya banyak mainan Amel berserakan di bathtub. Dinding luar, yang tadinya kombinasi kuning dan pink (yang harusnya merah bata tapi entah kenapa jadinya pink, wtf) diganti dengan warna yang lebih sensible tapi sayangnya jadi kembaran sama tetangga seberang.

Masih ada puing yang belum diberesin, mohon mangap

Udah deh sekian aja turnya. Taman masih berantakan. Pengennya punya taman yang low maintenance aja deh soalnya nyapu halaman dan nyiram tanaman aja ga pernah, lol.

[REVIEW] The Atheist Muslim by Ali A. Rizvi

5/5.
I have been a follower of Ali A. Rizvi’s Twitter account for a few years now, so when I found out he was writing a book, I just had to read it.

At the time of reading, Ahok is being tried for blasphemy case, and I’ve reached that point where I’m sick of the sense of entitlement some people have when it comes to their religion, tired of constantly having to hold back my tongue in order not to offend their inflated ego, and have heard enough of the infallibility status of some holy book. So reading this book–which provides bold and honest views from an ex-Muslim–really gave me a breath of fresh air.

Rizvi had a Muslim upbringing where being a Muslim does not only indicate your faith but also your identity; this is why I find his experience relatable. I, too, grew up in a somewhat liberal Muslim society that cherry-picked the teachings. Here is what he says on the inerracy of holy scriptures:

You know that you would never go to such an extent to justify the same ideas—expressed the same way—if I had written them in my book. You would’ve read them as they were and held me accountable for my words, instead of looking for “context,” a “correct interpretation,” or something else to make it sound better than it does.

You know, deep down, that it’s becoming increasingly difficult and exhausting to keep telling others—and maybe even yourself—how your progressive, reasoned values are somehow completely compatible with those words written 1300 years ago.

The chapter Islamophobia-phobia and the “Regressive Left” gave an analysis on Charlie Hebdo and Islamist attacks:

Again, it’s crucial to emphasize the difference between criticism of Islam and anti-Muslim bigotry. The first targets an ideology. The second targets human beings. This is an obvious, significant distinction, yet both are frequently lumped together under the unfortunate, reductive umbrella term “Islamophobia.” Again, human beings have rights and are entitled to respect. Ideas, beliefs, and books don’t and aren’t.

On letting go of faith:

The price of letting go can be immensely high. Giving up the security of faith and the idea of an ultimate justice is just one of many costs that an increasing number of Muslims around the world have to pay as they give up the religion of their parents. Recognizing this should help us better understand and empathize with those who are unwilling or unable to leave the comfort of their faith.

But it should also help us better appreciate the courage of those who have dared to give it up and construct a new compass for their lives.

Anyway. I sent a tweet to Rizvi to tell him how much I like his book. He was so nice and even replied my tweet!


I don’t see how this book can be translated to Indonesian anytime soon, at least not by a major publisher. But if some daring publisher wants to do it, I’d definitely buy a copy. It’d go well beside my Dawkins’ books.

Decluttering Project

​Waktu saya pindah ke tempat tinggal yang sekarang ini, rumah masih kosong melompong banget. Empat tahun setelahnya, barang-barang udah numpuk. Karena saya bukan tipe orang yang suka menyimpan banyak barang, saya memutuskan untuk melakukan decluttering di rumah. Barang-barang dikelompokkan menjadi mana yang mau dibuang, dikasih orang, dan disimpan.

Pertama, lemari baju. Jadi, lemari baju saya itu penuh, tapi baju yang dipakai itu-itu aja. Banyak baju dari jaman pra-hamil yang udah kekecilan, tapi disimpan dengan harapan suatu saat saya bakal kurus dan bajunya bakal muat lagi. Lol. Ada juga baju resmi yang dibeli untuk satu occassion doang, terus ga pernah dipakai lagi.

Akhirnya, baju-baju yang sudah kekecilan direlakan juga buat tetangga/saudara, kaus-kaus belel dan bolong (tapi nyaman dipakai) masuk tempat sampah, baju yang jarang dipakai disimpan di koper. Hasilnya, lemari pakaian jadi lebih lega dan ada alasan buat beli baju baru.

Tadinya saya ingin melakukan hal yang sama dengan lemari suami. Tapi no hope deh. Piagam lomba mewarnai waktu TK (TK cuy!) aja saya mau buang ga dibolehin, buat kenang-kenangan katanya. Ditanya, “Baju ini masih dipake ga?” Selalu, untuk setiap baju jawabannya, “Simpen aja dulu.” Fail deh mau beberes lemari dia.

Selain baju, ada juga barang-barangnya Amel, padahal dulu saya sebisa mungkin memilih opsi pinjam atau rental aja. Tetep aja, banyak peralatan bayi yang numpuk di rumah. Ada tas popok yang belum pernah dipakai, sepatu baru dipakai dua kali tau-tau udah kekecilan, dll.

Nyatanya, ada juga barang-barang yang kalau dibuang sayang, kalau disimpan menuh-menuhin space doang, dikasih tetangga ga ada yang pas. Akhirnya, saya iseng-iseng aja jual di Carousell.

Ternyata asik banget ya. Siapa sangka blazer H&M saya banyak banget peminatnya. Gendongan bayi yang nyaris ga pernah dipakai juga banyak yang nanyain. Dari 8 produk yang saya upload kemarin, 5 sudah terjual!

Buat yang tertarik, boleh lho mampir di carousell.com/nisaihsani. Katalognya akan saya update from time to time ya.

Mostly just rants about (not) writing

​I never thought I would be the kind of woman who would put off her career to take care of her kids. Because that implies I had a career to begin with, which I didn’t. Hahahahahahaha.

Okay, here’s the thing with not writing: I’m not going to starve. I’m nowhere near of being homeless. I don’t have people begging me for a sequel. Other than the frustration of having my thoughts bottled up inside and the bitter feeling when scrolling through my news feed and watching my “friends” making money and changing the world, I will be okay with not writing. My point is, sometimes it’s hard to remember why I wanted to write books in the first place.

I just hit 10k word count for my new novel yesterday. If this was my first book, I’d have reached that milestone in 20 days. If this was my second book, 10 days. As it is, it took me 6 effing months for this book. To be fair, I can’t put all the blame on my toddler who can’t see me in front of a laptop without wanting to take over and punch the keyboard excitedly. Oh, I want to say it’s all her fault, trust me I do, I’m a mean mother like that. But that’s not the case. I spent way too much time reading trashy fantasy YAs and baking chocolate chip Oreo muffins when I should be writing.

Anyway, due to the case with overexcited toodler I mentioned above, I finally settled on writing on my phone. It took me around a month to find the perfect setting:

– no fancy word processor because it slows down my phone,

– simple note application is best. I use Google Keep; I write 500-ish words at a time and sync them to my laptop when DD is asleep,

– write whenever DD is distracted!

I also became pretty good at distinguishing between writing and not writing. The only thing that counts as writing is putting one word after another. That’s about it. Fixing typos is not writing. Making an outline is not writing. Filling up character sheet is not writing. Researching is not writing.  And those classical music playlists can go to hell because choosing a writing playlist is definitely not writing.

Oh one last thing: ranting about this in my blog is also not writing.

Anyway. 10k written, which means around 30k more to go. O god can I die already?

Once A Fangirl Always A Fangirl

Excuse me, I’m just going to do a little bit of fangirling here.

These last few weeks have been exhausting, what with DD* going through a difficult phase–she is either sick or throwing a tantrum–and DH* kept having stomach problems, so I’m just muddling along here, wondering when is it my turn to be taken care of.

Long story short, I’m burnt.

Thank goodness for fictional boys. God knows how unbearable life is without them. Of all swoonworthy characters to warm my cold heart, two stand out: Kaz Brekker from Six of Crows series, and the one I’m going to talk about here: Anthony J. Lockwood from Lockwood & Co. series.

Around two years ago, I read The Screaming Staircase. It was good, but too scary for my taste so I wasn’t sure I’d read the next book. Too bad I already had a crush on Lockwood.

BUT. The Whispering Skull (#2) is SO GOOD, my harmless crush on Lockwood escalated. I just finished The Creeping Shadow (#4) and NOW I CAN’T CONTAIN MY FEELINGS. People, this series is awesome, I’m serious. It’s packed with intense action, has believable world-building, typical Stroud humor, and THE CHARACTERS OMG I LOVE THEM ALL.

The fourth book fulfills my every expectations. I love seeing friendship grow between Lucy and Holly. The Skull is as sarcastic and hilarious as ever. We see a badass side of George and unexpected turn of events with Quill Kipps. 

The Skull and Lucy reunited:

The ghost grinned as I hoisted the backpack over my shoulders. “Ah, two firm friends, reunited at last! There should be sweet violin music playing for us, but I’ll settle for the screams of the dying.”

And of course Lockwood! With his slim figure, too tight suit, and reckless action, my heart bursts whenever his name appears.

Lockwood didn’t say much. He was distracted, deep in thought. I knew the signs; the thrill of the chase was on him. Me, I was just happy for us to stroll together, side by side.

Me too, Lucy, me too.

If you’re familiar with Stroud, then you probably know there’s never much (or any) romance in his books. But here we have just enough of Lucy & Lockwood sweetness to brighten my deep, dark, emo heart.

I don’t know how many books to come out after this, but  there are talks about Lockwood’s ‘untimely end’ and I. JUST. CAN’T. Is it too much to ask for a fictional happy ending?

So yeah, life isn’t great right now. But with Lockwood to shine a light on my sad, lonely heart, I guess I’ll survive.

On our way home, I sat opposite Lockwood. He seemed pale and tired. In the days since our visit to the institute, we hadn’t spoken privately of what had happened to us. Occasionally, when our eyes met, we shared something that couldn’t be expressed in words.

* If you’re not familiar with these terms, try spending more time on parenting forums.