Home May 18, 2012

Yesterday, I bought pink pom-poms and sipped coffee and ate yuzu tarts and held my husband’s hand and smelled my daughter’s hair. Today, I went for a gym session with my husband and chatted with my daughter. She told me, “You are my very pretty mommy.” That’s how she is – full of love and praises for the cherished people in her life. She gave me grief just a couple of days ago – the worst day I had as a mother, no doubt about that, and let’s just leave it as that. Today is different. Today is a beautiful day. Today, I sit at my dining table staring out at the pom-poms sitting snugly in the white vase. The curtains moved just a little in the delicate wind, but that’s enough for me. There’s promise of rain. And promises of a sweeter weekend with paint, books, berries, baking, and hopefully, less work, no more fever. We are staying home, and happily so.

All new – Week Three May 16, 2012

Another week of burning shoulders and hot feet and sticky skin. I’m never a fan of the weather here, and these past weeks have just sapped out the little love I have for the sunniness we have here. Now I’m craving to wipe rain off my face like tears. The little missy was burning up to a 40 degrees celsius over the last weekend. We stayed in, slept in, all too toasty for my liking. She’s better now, fighting off that last bit of cough and runny nose, with lots of energy to expend, leaving us two rather exhausted parents piles of work and me, cabin fever.

I’m keeping to this all new project no matter. Here’s how I fared.

Day 16, 5 May, Saturday:: New bath wash. Raeann’s been on Baby Gaia since she was born. We tried others once in a while, and never really got to finish any – Gaia just rocks more. Today, I got her to try Method baby hair and body wash and she’s a big fan because she likes the packaging. “It has a big cup, and mommy, it smells nice!” It does.

Day 17, 6 May, Sunday:: New diet. So it looks like I’ve managed to shave off a few hard kilos this past half year. Being a pescetarian helps, I suppose. Today, I tried shaving off dinner by having a heavy tea instead. I don’t know if this will last, but I hope it will. I love teatime. There’s something about the three-ish hour in the day that is cheer-up-ing – if it’s a bad day, three-ish means the day’s about to be over; if it’s a good day, there’s still some hours to savour. I can have coffee and tea and still be able to sleep at night. I can eat cupcakes and not feel all too guilty. I love teatime, yes.

Day 18, 7 May, Monday:: New stall. This is one easy way to commit to this project. I still have so many stalls to go through. But oh, this one I tried today is bad. Not worth another chance.

Day 19, 8 May, Tuesday:: New age. The huddy turns a year older. The poor chap was working through the day and only got back after eight. Missy and I got to work on some birthday cupcakes (new recipe, and the little girl had so much fun decorating them with toasted hazelnuts), do up a huge card and left birthday balloon sketches on our kitchen blackboard. A small celebration for the man who has picked up pieces of my heart, mended it, and made it so much bigger.

Day 20, 9 May, Wednesday:: New facilitation approach. It’s awesome my husband does the same thing I do. We discuss techniques, practise our skills, and pooh-pooh-ed office politics together. He suggested I try something new for my class that has relatively quiet students, and so I did. It worked so well. I love my man.

Day 21, 10 May, Thursday:: New drink at school canteen. Again, not going for it again. Old favourites are favourites for a very good reason.

Day 22, 11/5, Fri:: New skill. I managed to create a (still rather ugly) latte art heart! This is really the first time it looks like a heart, and even the hubs agrees. He thinks I imagined the rest (I swear I didn’t, just that they were really mis-shapened, but ugly hearts are still hearts, I tell him).

Next week, last week.

All new – Week Two May 4, 2012

It gets tougher, but fun-er. I’m halfway in my renewal commitment, and really, it feels good.

Day 9, 28 April, Saturday:: New family photos. We won a photoshoot with Gideon Koh Photography, the very awesome, handsome guy behind my wedding photos, first family photoshoot and Missy Messy photos. The huddy and I are big fans of his work and personality, and were more than thrilled when he announced us as the winner of a little contest he held on Facebook. I wrote a comment about my special someone, and his readers have very kindly voted for me. It’s special this time, because by some twist of fate, we ended up shooting in the homeland. I’m a huge homebody, so this is just about the most comfortable shoot ever.

Day 10, 29 April, Sunday:: New recipe for Latte’s food. My little boy has been eating homecooked meals everyday since he was eight months old. On a whim, I gathered our herbs from the garden and stirred up minced pork fried rice for him, together with some local vegetables. Raeann had it for lunch too and she was more than amused how they were having the exact same thing.

Day 11, 30 April, Monday:: New shirt. It’s pale blue with puffy sleeves, and I love how the buttons allow  for transformation to a chic jacket too. It makes me feel a little preppy on a Monday morning.

Day 12, 1 May, Tuesday:: New month. May spells a busy time for me and the huddy. So on its first day, we embraced it with coffee, eggs, pancakes and a slice of lemon cake. I like the sound of ‘May’. It’s the name of my beautiful friend, the month my man was born in, and hey, the shortest word to spell in the calendar.

Day 13, 2 May, Wednesday:: New bubble tea drink. I’m skeptical about bubble tea. Most aren’t good. I randomly ordered a honey green tea from the school canteen. It wasn’t great, as expected. But at least I tried. And I like that I did.

Day 14, 3 May, Thursday:: New canteen stall. It’s my fifth year in the institution and I eat just about the same few things all the time. This endeavour brought me to a Malay stall that serves up pretty neat assam fish curry. I even tried out a new dessert – red tea jelly with longans. I know desserts to be cakes and ice cream. Local desserts aren’t quite appealing to me, but this works. Quite the perfect sweet ending to my work week.

Day 15, 4 May, Friday:: New work haunt. So I found a pretty quiet Starbucks to round up my grading for the week, and to type this blog entry. The latte’s mild, but it’ll do for a quick charge for the day.

Halfway through. Half-new-ed.

All new (week 1) April 27, 2012

So, I did commit to my ‘all new’ endeavour. Here’s week one.

Day 1, 20 April, Friday:: New ice cream parlour. It’s good old Udders at a spanking new outlet in Thomson. The missy was all too eager to pick her flavours. She tiptoed, squashed her nose against the glass display, startled the service crew behind the counter, her eyes peering from behind her bangs. We had strawberry fields and earl grey and a monster cone for supper. The best kind of supper.

Day 2, 21 April, Saturday:: Newborn. The sweetie was still in neo-natal care as she had some amniotic fluids in her lungs. But all’s good now. A new beginning, always a blessing.

Day 3, 22 April, Sunday:: New dish, old eatery. We went back to Real Food again, this time to celebrate a dear girlfriend’s birthday. I have missed her so, that girl. And this time, I ordered something I’ve never had before here at Real Food – the calzone, and a really good vegetable salad. There’s a beetroot loaf in there, and pretty radishes. I’ve always had a thing for little radishes. The deep purplish-red trimmings and cute tiny sprouts, my kind of eye candy.

Day 4, 23 April, Monday:: New class. This is one very vocal, active, happy class. They screamed ‘yay’ when I wanted to play an icebreaker. They laughed heartily at my comments (I really don’t think I’m very funny). And they called me their “coolest facilitator”. Yay.

Day 5, 24 April, Tuesday:: New dress. I’ve never liked dresses when I was younger. (My evil friends had to sneak my jeans away so I will put on the skirt they bought for me as a birthday present in college!) I own several dresses now, and while I still don’t rock them, I like to twirl them a little just to make the missy laugh. And they make great hideouts in our hide-and-seek games with the daddy.

Day 6, 25 April, Wednesday:: New haunt. We’ve just discovered the library near our workplace! It’s got fake turf grass, giant stump of a fake tree, too-cute toadstool seats, and we spent an hour reading Dr Seuss’, looking at running kids (and I heaved many many many sighs of relief I only have one child), and being grateful I am now well enough to smell the mildly sweaty scent of Raeann’s hair.

Day 7, 26 April, Thursday:: New craft. The little missy is having Dessert Day in school on Friday, so I made her a little chef’s hat. It’s got flowers, strawberries and cherries. Everything a little girl needs.

Day 8, 27 April, Friday:: New walk route. I woke up at 6 am, to work and to walk Latte. Today, we tried a new route further away from our estate. The boy was all too delighted to step on grass and sniff new scents. People scampered by us, to rush to work, to hurry to school. We strolled by the seniors taking their morning walk, their arms taking deliberately huge swings. And I think, I’m thankful for this morning.

To more new things.

All new April 20, 2012

Sunset at Hillary's Boat Harbour. I can never forget how I felt then. I think I was flying.

Today’s the kind of day I feel a little upbeat working from home, a little grumpy working in the heat, a little hopeful for the changes that are inevitably coming. It’s the kind of day I think too much, eat too much. I want to be holidaying, to see sunsets with birds peeking out from my camera window. There are so many things to strike off my to-do-list, and all I do is look out at the petunias in the garden nodding away to the beat of the very-light breeze. There’s a butterfly that fleets by every now and then, undecided whether to land on my purple petunias or not. All very cute.

To celebrate Friday and my rather productive morning of working and daydreaming and good-coffee-ing, I’m committing myself to a month of ‘new things’:: a month of experiencing something new every day. I don’t know what I’m gonna do, but today, I will try a new recipe.

Join me?

She says April 13, 2012

So the little missy just turned three and a half. “I’m such a big girl already. I’m three years old already, you know?” I know. It shows.

• Today, she greeted our dog this way:: “What’s up, furry boy?”

• When we told her the tub of ice cream’s gone, she shrugged her two tiny but fleshy shoulders, “Well, it’s alright.”

• At a playground, some older boys were kicking the structure upstairs. She came out from her little cave downstairs and shouted to them, “Please don’t stomp! It’s so noisy I cannot hear my voice downstairs!” She had strength in numbers of course – she was in the cave with her friend and a new-friend-found. But hey, still rather feisty!

• Before we went out, I told her to put on her red shoes to match her black and white dress. She refused and put on her new pair of Tevas instead. So I went, “You see, your red shoes would match your red buttons.” The little missy very quickly retorted, “But my black dress would match my black sandals!” True that.

• The huddy and I have included thanksgiving in her bedtime routine. So every night, after bedtime reading, we take turns to share what we are thankful for in the day. For many nights, this was hers, “I’m thankful that mommy takes care of me with the greatest of care, and she is so full of life.” On other nights, these recent ones particularly, she shares, “I’m thankful I spend time with mommy, and I love mommy forever and ever.”

She has stolen my heart, and she is never giving it back. I gladly let it be.

Brown April 3, 2012

The sun there in the morning is a little golden, and mellow. Like a good friend you would love to sit next to on a swing. The rays brought out the brown in her hair, in her eyes. Every day, I fall in love a little more.

She’s beautiful, in my eyes.

Red and yellow and pink and green, purple and orange and blue March 26, 2012

Half a week back from our holiday in almost-perfect Perth, I’m still a little drunk from the intensity of the rays, the smell of the crisp air in the mornings and evenings. It was autumn, the sky always wrapped in hues of blue, with those occasional Simpson clouds near the Swan River that float and glow in the blue with blurred edges. We saw magnificent trees with white smooth barks, the green towering towards the sky. Some have turned a light orange, not quite the crimson I’ve seen in postcards of autumny glory, but still pretty. Under their glorious shades, the grass is always cool, my hair always tousled lightly by the breeze. In the evenings, it turns chilly – the wear-a-lovely-cardigan-fold-your-arms-around-yourself-and-feel-all-kind-of-awesome kind of chilly. The sky glows again, this time, in pink-purple gradients, pastel hues. I thought of the song “I can sing a rainbow” in the advert for Australia some time back – how apt, how beautiful.

We were hosted in two lovely homes of friends. So much warmth, laughter, noise too, but nothing parents can’t handle. It was so refreshing to stay under one roof with friends and children, to see their morning faces, to hear the opening of the fridge all too often, the pouring of milk into cups, the sound of water boiling, the flip of magazines. So familiar, yet so new. (I’ve used the word ‘so’ so many times, ya?) I cannot say enough thanks for the hospitality they’ve bestowed upon us. Thank you, M&G, and H. Thank you.

Bench Espresso. One of the best coffee I've had in Perth.

A cafe in a bookstore, Fremantle. Fresh books on vintage wooden tables, brilliant piccolo latte, spacious reading corners. And there are two old bank vaults right inside the bookstore, a historical mark of the changes in the quaint town of Fremantle.

The huddy and I are coffee lovers, and there are so many little quaint coffee houses dotting the streets. Some a charming kiosk on the sidewalk, some a spacious woody homey home in the bookstore, some a hidden gem behind dark windows, some, well, just your regular joe in the neighbourhood. Some great, some good, some forgettable, and all part of our almost-perfect Perth experience. Food doesn’t come cheap, but it’s good to know that’s a result of pretty high minimum wages down under.

Missy’s got a feel of the wildlife. She fed bunnies, donkeys and kangeroos, chased ducks aways because they “snatch the kangeroo’s food and peck mommy!”, patted the wombat, koala, possum. I had plenty proud mommy moments at the Caversham Wildlife Park because the little city girl was curious, gentle, daring and eager to try different experiences. She only minded the poop because she didn’t want her only pair of shoes to be dirty. Ask her how she feeds the kangeroos and she will gladly oblige with a mini skit of her own.

The travel trooper in her napped in car rides, mostly without a fuss. The merciless sun got to her though – she just doesn’t adore the sun too much. With a breeze, she smiles. Without, she whines and frowns. Sometimes cute, mostly not.

The sprawling greens in Perth were a major highlight for us all. Her face, alive with interest, brightened at every sight of parks and beaches. She danced jiggly dances on the spot, spanned the perimeters of the grass patches, her arms raised high at her sides, imitating the wings of a plane. She approaches sand with glee, giggles when they slip through her fingers, when they get into her shoes. That childlike wonder at every thing big and small – I’ve lost it, but I think I’ve found it again in her.

I lingered at the flowers. For pictures at first, then I bent down to touch them, feel them. You know I love flowers right? But I don’t like quite fancy them at the florist’s. I like them where they belong – in nature, with their fellow flowers, dancing in the wind, sometimes a little battled, but always happy. So I lingered a while longer, just because I can, and I want to. Springtime should be my favourite seaon, I think.

And oh, the sunsets. The glorious, gorgeous sunsets. Those slender seconds before the sun bleeds into the sea. The huddy put his hand around my waist at Cottesloe, and that familiar warmth completed the moment. We hardly see sunsets here, nothing half as magical at least. It was humbling.

There’s so much more, so much more. Maybe I’ll write it down, maybe I won’t. But I’ll always remember, I will. It was beautiful. I can see us living there. Eating dinners in the patio, frolicking on the greens, swimming in the mornings, waving hi to the campers, nestling somewhere in a small cafe with a coffee and a cookie so huge I have to share. Maybe someday.

I miss you already, Perth.

Best friends forever December 29, 2011

Hey sweetie,

I could look at you all day, you know?

I love how you wear my tee, swathed to the toes. You like to pretend you are mommy, and you trail me round the house with your wooden food set, because “It’s time for breakfast, baby. You need to eat your eggs and drink your coffee, you know? You want to tabao or eat here?”

 When you hold my hand to bring me to your playroom this morning, I realise again how small your fingers are, wrapped around mine. How long will you be small? Will you ever mind being mine?

You still leave a moustache of white after you drink your milk (your favourite cups are always mine, you funny girl), you still need me or daddy to read you three stories and sleep next to you, you still leave Lego bricks around for me to step on. And you still think I rock your world. “You are my best friend, Mommy!”

You are mine too, you know?

Love,

Your BFF

Daddy and Missy December 28, 2011

The huddy doesn’t bring Missy out on his own very much. For short errands, yes, but little of those ‘hanging out moments’, if you know what I mean.

And while I was out on a thanksgiving dinner, the two of them had such a lovely time together – eating ice cream with ‘small small marshmallows’, trying out clothes at H&M, posing for pictures to show Mommy, smiling and hugging each other like a dream daddy-daughter combi. They look like best friends, don’t you think?

This is my favourite photo from the lot. It makes me grin from inside out. How sweet are they together!

Christmas Twenty-eleven December 24, 2011

In my part of the world this Christmas season, the days are wet. Fat drops of rain are always spilling over, unannounced, unwelcomed. I left the kitchen window open one day and we came home to a massive puddle so messy it’s not funny. The weather’s often unkind, to me at least – I get caught in heavy rain more often than I care to count, my dresses are soaked to a darker colour even when I shrunk as much as I could under the brolly, my new Terra Plana shoes stained the colour of rain on cream. There isn’t the comfortable rhythmic pitter-pattering. Only the loud whooshing, droning of heavy downpour, then sudden whispering of a short drizzle, and back to beating down the concrete again. It’s so wet, this December.

Amidst it all, there was warmth. I know I’m blessed with much, but this year, this year beats it all. Friends send parcels from afar, packages big and small, presents they know I will love. They adorn me with food-primping gadgets, coffee-drinking pretties, handmade cards, the little odd things that I so like but always too reluctant to splurge on. So thoughtful, every little gift I’ve received. It always amazes me how well my friends know me, and how they care to indulge me. I have the most wonderful friends, I swear. And this space, oh this wonderful blog space that I’ve neglected so much. It brought me to the loveliest bunch of people, people I wouldn’t have crossed paths with if not for this. You know who you are – thank you.

The huddy and I made a pact to not exchange presents this year, because we’ve got so much it feels like a mini-sin to take more. So I took that sum to give a little. A little to the students who just have it harder. A little to children who need medical attention. A little to communities who could barely afford the basics. A little to a kid out there. There’s something magical about giving. It makes you want to give more, take less, and appreciate more the things I take.

So this is my Christmas. My heart is light, the homeland is bright. All is right.

Merry merry Christmas.

My note this day December 17, 2011

I’m up at an insane hour on a weekend. The morning’s cool, the sky a grey so typical of December days. I make plans to wrap, send, wash, cook, read – all before the missy opens her door and walks up to me drunkenly with tousled hair, wrapped up in her long onesie. Then I realise I’m no supermama and I should just soak in the morning in the slowest possible manner. I’m guilty of rushing, guilty of trying to do too many things all at once. So I blog with Latte at my feet, and surfing for recipes, and doing the laundry, and registering my AppleCare, and donating online and smiling. Ok, still trying to do too much, but these can’t wait, no?

This season, this year, I’m blessed with much, and giveback shouldn’t take a backseat. Somewhere out there, I hope the kids and folks are happier with the little we have given. A little each person makes a difference, so let’s do what we can to make this season just a little better for everyone? This season, may there be warmth and love in every household, in every heart.

Blessed day, blessed holidays to you.

Food fun December 17, 2011

My favourite food things::

<3 Eating yoghurt with a cookie as a spoon

<3 Digging out of the ice cream tub with my massive pink spoon

<3 Eating a cake and knowing there’s another for later

<3 Sipping coffee and hearing the timer ring to say cookies in the oven are ready for popping

<3 Punching bread out of little cutters and moulds

<3 Biting into a heart-shaped boiled egg

<3 Sitting at my dining table with fresh flowers and my teapot (I don’t even need to eat)

<3 Seeing missy’s eyes widen with joy as she notices what’s on her plate

What are yours?

Saturday in the homeland November 19, 2011

I’m loving this place. The slanting rain hammers on outdoors but there is always a wash of remaining sunlight slipping through the window. There is always a fat book open on the table, and more fat books waiting to be opened. There is always coffee in the jar, cookies to be eaten. The light is always soft, sometimes too dark for a book, but always inviting. Latte boy always warms my feet. This is my home, my little homeland.

November’s here November 10, 2011

Just like that, October passed us by.

This is she, all of three years and one month, a pretty little lady if you ask me.

At three, she is fabulous company who knows exactly how to strike up a conversation. At dinners, she does this, “Daddy, Mommy, I have something to tell you. Today, today, ah, Teacher Siti’s class is playing with toys, you know?” And just like that, we talk about her teachers, friends, toys, ribbons, shampoo, playgrounds, weather. And just like that, dinners take forever. Happily so. Most of the time, at least.

She tells us, “Wow, the clouds are so beautiful! White! Wow, so fluffy!” When we laugh, she goes, “It’s so funny right? The clouds are so fluffy!” We laugh more, and witness the changing colours of the sky, right in the middle of the sidewalk where people pass us by with a look of bewilderment. The moody colours of dusk – the perfect prelude to bedtime, to more chatter of the non-important yet grand variety.

With grateful wonder, I’m embracing November, that step closer to December, the month of jingle bells and all things red and gold and starry.

Our tree is up. She wants the fairy lights on all day – “Mommy, our house is so pretty. Tomorrow I want to tell Teacher A we have a Christmas tree that is SO pretty!” She’s house proud, I see.

Cheers to a pretty November.

Dreams in a cup October 16, 2011

I like lemon bakes. Light citrousy batter, like golden sunshine, only spongy.

So when dearest May got me The Hummingbird Bakery’s recipe book gift set (complete with sweet pink and chirpy birds cupcake cups and ducky confetti sprinkles!) with an easy lemony recipe, I did a little jiggly dance, and got down to work on those sweeties the following day.

That morning, I sat a yellow block of butter on the table, watched it blur at the edges as it melted under the heat. I bake really slowly, if you must know. That process must be savoured and measured (pun not intended), it can’t be done in a jiffy, really. The kitchen was warm, but just nicely so, a good sign that the oven was prepping up nicely for the cuppies. My hands all batter-filled (is it just me, but I love tasting the batter!), I wiped off the perspiration with the knob of my wrist. And there was this glee in just knowing, my cupcakes would soon be ready.

I go for the prettiest cakes on display at the stores, but when it comes to my own bakes and feeding my folks and friends, I hate the lavish and saccharine sweet fondant and over-the-top decor. I like mine a little burnt at the edges, a little mis-shapened. To me, they are perfect only when they are imperfect. It’s what makes them home-baked, no? I’m no baker, never will be, so this perfect imperfection, is good enough for me.

And they turned out sweet and light, good enough for Missy. She had two, asked for more, and in her playroom, requested for me to teach her how to bake. “I like your cupcakes, Mommy. Can you teach me?” (Yes, she talks like that sometimes. So proper, it’s almost Enid-Blyton-ish.)

And so I tried to repeat the hummingbird magic for her birthday celebration, this time in smaller portions, in yellow polka-dotted cups, and unfortunately and rarely, in a hurry. So they weren’t as good as they were in my first attempt, but the folks were kind enough to eat their share and had seconds. Raeann was thrilled to blow out the candles and eat her cupcake with some picks I saved for her special day. She held out a forkful for me, all lemon and love. More love than lemon.

So every birthday, I bake her cake/cupcakes,  for at least one celebration. And I like this tradition. I hope she, too, always will.

Happy Giving-Birth-Day October 10, 2011

The sweet man surprised me with a giving-birth present, all wrapped up. Missy was thrilled, “Daddy has a present for you, Mommy.” I immediately corrected her, “No, it’s for YOU.” Then I turned to the huddy, “My goodness, you bought her another present?” (He had got her a huge Lego set a month earlier.)

Happy giving-birth-day to mommy, he said.

I couldn’t say anything for a while.

I’m all Glee-ed out.

I’m so loved. I am.

With love, from Mommy October 10, 2011

Dear Raeann,

It’s been so long since Mommy last wrote to you. I haven’t forgotten about writing, in case you are wondering. It’s just that so much is happening – there’s always your hand to hold, your songs to sing, your warmth to embrace, your playdates to attend, it’s getting harder to sit down proper to compose this. But sit down I will, write I will, short as it may be.

You turn three today. Three years ago, you were pink, a big mush of fragile softness. Now you are caramel-coloured, light flushes seeping through your cheeks. Your calves are dotted with mozzie bites from Chiang Mai, testament to your sweetness, I always say. Your hair, still those light brown waves, I’m envious as always. And that voice – no longer soft and girly, but loud, sharp and crisp clear. Those cheeks are still munch-worthy, a distinct trait you inherited from me (I’m not proud of my cheeks, just yours). You are beautiful, to me, to your daddy, to those who love you truly.

Turning three has made you a wonderful helper. The playroom is kept tidy, wooden food toys in place, cupcakes in their trays. Even the Lego pieces are no longer hazardously placed on the mat for all to step on. You choose little pressies to give to your friends (“So-and-so likes this, I want to buy for him”). You keep the laundry, peg on your own clothes, get the jammies for Daddy, wash your own shoes, shower and even dry and clothe yourself. Things I certainly did not do when I was three.

You correct gramps when they speak bad English. You remind us of tasks we haven’t done, promises we haven’t kept (“You said you would give me a marshmallow after I wear my shoes. Remember, Mommy?”). You comfort us when we have tiffs. You tell me, ever so gently, “Try not to be afraid of cats, Mommy. Cats are nice. But they don’t like to smile.”

You were a trooper in our first trip overseas. In a week, your routines were rocked upside down, inside out. But you adapted ever so readily, even willing yourself to take supper with us at 2.30 am SG time. Nary a whine, always a smile. You rock. You do.

I try not to be amazed at every little thing, but the truth is, I really am. Sometimes, I forget you are only three. Yes, you are three, but only just three.

I had the best three years of my life, with you. The moments are amplified, every day a surprise. How is this possible, I don’t know, but this love, it aches. In the most intense, best way possible. Mommy’s tearing as I’m writing – I’m so blessed to have you, baby. May the years ahead bring you more confetti moments, more lessons, more love. Be a blessing to others, as you have been to me. Happy birthday, my dear dear missy. We love love love love love you. Love you so.

Love,

Mommy

September days September 16, 2011

Life has been pretty peachy these days, I would say.

First up. An old friend has just opened a coffee joint Smitten at the laid-back Robertson Quay, serving up cups of rich, smooth brew I so love. I’m no coffee connoisseur – I just know when I like that cuppa, or not. I like coffee that doesn’t leave that sour aftertaste. I like coffee that doesn’t leave me nauseous. I like coffee that is served with pretty latte art (yes very shallow of me, yes). I like coffee that perks me up just enough to smile at and forgive the person who just cut my queue, but not that much of a caffeine high that I can’t stop talking. I like coffee served by people who drink and appreciate coffee. Smitten does coffee like that. Even more awesome that everything in the cafe is so pretty – the sugar rack, the water jug, the white bricks, the wooden table, and the lovely lovely couple. Day makers, this place really is.

And there’s walks aplenty these days. The missy and I talk (mostly she) while walking across the field, the early morning sun behind me. I’m a little more tanned now, and a little lighter, both physically and figuratively. Sometimes I walk Latte boy and the missy together, and we go for breakfast picnics in the estate, stopping when we want, when we could. I pack us little blueberries, carrot sticks, croutons, frozen juices, cherry apples, muesli and yoghurt. We stop by the slide and she waves bye while I run Latte round the playground for a bit. She invites me to her ‘home’ and says she will drive us. She has even invited random strangers to her party (which we are not really having). We make up stories, we find Latte doggy friends, we get darker shade by shade every day. It’s fun, this little thing we have going.

The huddy and I had some run-ins over the week, but all’s good now. Very good actually. I like how we grow as a couple to discover more about each other, our dreams, our peeves, our differences, our connections. Not so fond of the way we got there, but we made a pact to live and let live, love and love more. So yes, life is good in the homeland. The daddy, mommy, missy and doggy.

I’m smelling the roses, one by one. Some are thorny, some are wilting, some are just bursting into blooms, but they all smell good in one way or another. I’m gonna take my time. To a beautiful weekend, my friends.

First of September September 1, 2011

Thursday dawned, sunny and hot. It’s 1 September, Teachers’ Day in our part of the world. I had talked to Missy about it just the previous night and she decided she wanted to buy milk and Twiggies for her teachers. All very sweet, but not exactly gift-worthy, you know? So we settled on a classic strawberry cake which she picked out, and raisins for her friends.

If there’s one thing you have to know about this girl, she loves giving things. She would shop, stop, then shout “I want to buy this for my friends. For …” And she would rattle non-stop to the amusement of the other shoppers with her lists of to-buy and who-to-give-to. Just two nights ago, as a reply to my preach on not wasting resources, she declared “I want to give our fan to the country. The children have no fan and will be very hot. We give our fan, ok?” My heart warmed ever so gently.

Back to today. She armed herself with her polka dot backpack, raisins and cake to the classroom. I tucked a stray hair behind her ear, gave her an embrace, and expected the tears to fall, as usual. Today, there was no tears. No longing, no tugging. Just that glowing tinge of excitement on her face on giving presents she had picked out herself.

Mommy’s pride, however small.

And blessed Teachers’ Day to all the educators out there. Thank you for loving and inspiring my little one (she’s been saying “I want to be a teacher when I grow up, Mommy.”).

And I want to be my bubs’ first, life-long, most loving teacher.