Moving on August 17, 2011

I am just about fine now. There are those moments when the heart sinks down deep like a failed cake from the oven, and tear drops fall a little too randomly in the classroom, in the bathroom, in the middle of the night, hot and heavy.

But more often than not, I am at peace. It wasn’t easy to come by, but it has. The huddy indulges me in long chats after the missy has turned in. He keeps me grounded, this man. He says the truth, unvarnished, because I need to hear it. Then he says nothing and lets me soak his PJs with my tears, slows down the rhythm of my heaving shoulders with his tight embrace. He is there, always.

I take much comfort in words my dear friends say to me, or have not said because you know, some things are better left unsaid. I feel the support, I do, and thank you. You know who you are.

So yes, I am healing fast and well. There is always a place in me, for him – love, pity, regret, obligation, that bittersweet cocktail of emotions for someone once so close, and now so far.

Well, I don’t know how to end this entry, so I’ll just say…bye.

July 22, 2011

You were everything to me once. I remember walking on your feet, my hands in yours. You were warm, and always game for more. You searched the town for a new clock because I said the old one was ugly. You shielded me and didn’t mind if I didn’t get full marks for every single test. You did my art for me. You drew great 3D desks and classroom and happy smiling faces holding ang baos or lanterns or flags. I innocently told my teacher you drew them and she wasn’t happy of course. She thought she had found her best art student.

I was barely ten. Twenty years on, most memories have faded. Some have stubbornly stayed on, the worst ones inclusive, as much as I have tried to will them away. But I think I want to remember you as a man who was my everything. For that ten years, you really were.

So this is goodbye. It came faster than I had expected, but no time is a good time. I wish you happiness, free of pain, both physical and emotional, and most of all, love. Bye, Pa.

Come what may May 1, 2010

Every little piece of good news is GREAT news for freelancers. And when both the huddy and I get the same news, it is worth doing a jiggly dance. And so I did. We hugged and laughed and almost woke the little one up. What a wonderful night to round up a lovely morning of sun, sand and sea (though we certainly missed the huddy who stayed back home to nurse a cold and to catch up on grading).

May, you are looking pretty good to me.

Saturday blues and greens January 25, 2010

I’m loving Marina Barrage. We were baked in the sun and blessed by the breeze, and oh-so-happy-I-can’t-breathe.

Missy, please tell me you’ll remember all the fun times we’ve had?

On the merry menu December 24, 2009

On the merry menu at the homeland this Christmas::

Homemade pasta with scallops

Roasted pork belly on corn with cranberry sauce

Pita pizza with spinach and mixed mushrooms

Butternut squash with bacon and asparagus

Oxtail stew in Guinness Stout

Mango cheesecake with grapefruit

***

Roasted pork belly on corn (‘Porkcorn’ the huddy says!). The huddy modified this from a Jamie Oliver recipe, using our existing spices. Oh-so-crackling-awesome. It’s his first attempt, and it wowed us. I made a cranberry sauce to go with it, and it was surprisingly so refreshing we ate it with our dessert too.

Butternut squash balls with asparagus and bacon, served in the butternut gourd. Flavourful and probably required the least toiling, save for the balling of the squash.

Mango cheesecake topped with grapefruit slices. I baked a similar one last year, and my father-in-law adored it, so it makes its appearance again this year, with slight variations, and thankfully, just as well-received.

Another year going by, another year coming on. This season hasn’t brought on the best of news for many around me, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of low somehow too.

Let’s be kind to all. Let’s forgive more. Let’s be thankful for all we’ve got. And for those we’ve lost, let’s always keep them in our thoughts.

Have a blessed Christmas, my friends.

When you say nothing at all September 24, 2009

I’ve been tardy on the writing front. No words on the blog, no words in the pretty journal. No words even for Raeann’s little book. No words. We were busy meeting babies and mommies and families and friends (primary schoolmates! bloggers! bandmates! good goblins! gideon! wow!), and at the end of the day, I’m just too fuzzy-brained to create.

While breastfeeding just now, I had a moment to slow down, a moment to myself. I relished in the familiar sights and sounds of the homeland – Latte’s barks, the humidifier puffing out cool white mists like low clouds, the clatter of the ceramic bowls in the kitchen. I told myself I’ve got to blog these down. For what, I don’t know. Maybe that’s just me – the mundane stimulate me. The mundane’s brain-numbing, in a good way.

And then I looked down at the little bub suckling away. Her baby hair, too soft. Her legs, wrapped up snuggly in her jammies. Her long eyelashes forming little shadows on her little face. She’s turning one soon. One year old, you know? One year old, can you believe it? One year old!

I’m praying that she’s not going to blame us for a low-key first birthday. There isn’t going to be any party. No fancy cake. In a reverse fashion, we’re making cards for the folks – this will be our birthday ritual for Missy Raeann. A reminder for her to give thanks to those who have given so selflessly, to those who love her so muchly. We’re going for lunch with the folks, and spending the day out in the sun. I’m baking her birthday cake – nothing pretty, just good old chocolate cake with peppermint frosting, with a few rainbow-coloured candies thrown in for good measure. (I always like my cakes old-fashioned, imperfect-looking – I even like bumps and cracks because they look just so homey.) Daddy’s making her something (it sounds really exciting!), Mommy’s writing her something. We’ve a grand plan to paint her a mural on her wall, though till now, it remains a plan.

An intimate celebration it will be. For our little girl who’s the biggest thing in our lives. She’ll learn what it means to be contented. A sort of peace that is lasting and pure. A gratefulness for things and people that should never be taken for granted.

Taken by D at Elliot's party.

Another one by D.

In the dress lovingly sewn by my lovely mother-in-law

Can’t stop smiling May 22, 2009

This week is so full of confetti. Five lovely, lovely things I absolutely have to post-it::

1. The little missy crawls! For more than a month, she has been able to stand up on her own with some support. Then three weeks ago, she learnt to sit up from the lying position. Now, she does the full works, and even leopard-crawls when lured. Gadgets get her moving the quickest. She’s there in a heartbeat.

2. She sprouts her first pearly white, and she doesn’t bite! Maybe, she just hasn’t. But I would love to think she would never.

3. The first significant pay after my maternity arrives, and I shopped for loads for goodies. Just one thing for me, and everything else for everyone else. It beats spending on myself, really.

4. This afternoon, I watched the missy play with my mommy. Their eyes bright, their smiles brighter. For some reason, I felt like crying.

5. I’m going on a date with the huddy tomorrow. I’ll wear the earrings that jingle jangle when I walk and when my head bobs. I’ll wear my vintage blue-white swirly sundress. I’ll hold his hands. I’ll buy him ramen. I’ll miss my Raeann, but I know we need this break so. I’m thrilled.

Have a beautiful weekend, my friends.

The warmth in the hot day April 19, 2009

These made me melt, in a good way this hot Sunday.

I’ve been waiting so long for my two babies to get together. As expected, there was a frisson of panic in the folks, but as usual, I’m one stubborn mommy who chooses to ignore lectures of bacteria/dirty/unhygienic and the like. It’s all hogwash if there isn’t evidence to back up what one is saying. I have the research results, the credible articles. I know what I’m doing, and I’ll continue to do it. My babies deserve each other. Six months has been too long a wait.

And there was freshly squeezed juice from the huddy, with thick pulp and countless ice cubes in the cup, just the way I like it. The orangey scent lingers around the sink late into the evening. I think about how lovely it would be to dig my fingers into a cold orange and feel that cool first spray on my skin. I mustn’t let the heat get to me.

It’s probably a good day to start singing “Here comes the sun” to the little missy.

Almost one month November 8, 2008

Almost one month, you know?

A little tea reception for our folks and scrummy cakes to give away.

Our room, flooded with well wishes, with a warmth so precious.

In the midst of everything, she fell asleep in the crook of my arm, me rocking her. The little one who brought everyone together today. The little one who makes us realise how much our folks mean to us. She’s like the ribbon on a plain parcel – the little thing that makes all the difference.

All litted up September 14, 2008

Childhood is so fleeting. They were all babies fussing for feeds six years ago. Now, they are little ones who have cake slices bigger than the adults’.

It’s beautiful celebrating a birthday on a moonlit night.

I feel alive.

Snapshot on rainy days August 26, 2008

• The after-drizzle air smells of fallen wild fruit, and I’m liking the slight breeze on my skin. But it’s bad news for Latte boy, who can’t have his regular jogs with the huddy. To make up for his loss of exercise, we hide his toys and make him search the homeland for them. The clever boy knows all the names of his toys, which still amazes us to no end. Proud parents, we are.

• The huddy’s got a new toy and he’s quite contented to have the rain for company for the next couple of days. He’s one very happy man now, I must say.

• It’s strange how I’m getting cravings all over again. Today’s fudgy chocolate cake, which I hope to be able to bake tomorrow, unless there’s a new craving. One thick slice with a cup of English Breakfast. And a good read. And more drippy weather.

• My feet are sore from the shopping for Raeann (short trips only, really!). Nothing that I own seems to be able to support my weight these days. There must be pretty, reliable, affordable shoes out there that can take the walking. Ladies, any suggestions?

• The last week before the new term begins. It’s all about friends, food and flowers (the duranta plant is blooming again!)

bits and pieces June 8, 2008

• We splurged on a king size Sealy Posturepedic Luxembourg ultra plush mattress and some duvet set with 600 thread count. All in the name of baby and good sleep. The guilt inched in as I thought about how I won’t be working from August to April next year. But, this should at least help the huddy get more winks as I journey to the washroom countless times in the night. And baby auyong would fit in snugly and sleep like a king. Like it should.

• The auyongs celebrate our second year of marriage bliss come first of July. We talked about the impending celebrations and I giggled like a little girl in his arms. Latte and baby are joining, and I just can’t stop smiling.

• I often felt that I was forced to grow up faster than I should in my childhood days. The brother, on the other hand, was probably made never to grow up. And it’s time he does. After tears of anger, anxiety, frustration, love from all of us, please do.

• I’m not that big now, but I’ve learnt to love my belly and even flaunt it a little. That got me seats on the train thrice in two days. And the cherry on the cake – the huddy says:: you’re too slim to look like you’ve a pot belly! you’re a glowing hot mummy with a preggy belly. he sure knows how to make his wifey happy. Very happy.

• I’ve visions of the nursery bursting into a rich palette of colours, with just the right amount of country that pleases even the huddy. Now, I just have to get hands-on in the sprucing before I get all lumbery.

• Good news from the besties keep pouring in. It’s like a return to the more idyllic times when everyone’s smiling from inside out and outside in. Happiness, to me, is always doubled when shared. Share yours, won’t you?

The days these days June 1, 2008

So we did a little of museum-hopping with the in-laws yesterday. I thought I could manage some three museums, but I gave up after the National Museum and the Peranakan Museum, which I love by the way, but it does fall short of my expectations. Nothing beats the experience at the old Peranakan Place more than a decade back.

I like that the day was a little wet, but not drippy enough to dull the mood. Dear Superstar and Robin dropped by the night before and we talked and laughed lots. She gave me a pretty white straw bag as my belated birthday present, and I couldn’t wait to don it for a Saturday day out with the folks. One of my besties, she sure knows me well.

After they left, I did some quick reading of my students’ reflection journals, and I smiled (and smiled and smiled and smiled). These youths are sweet little things. You know, I think I can do this for a long long time. I love this job, these youths, more than I ever think I would. So, this is what they call job satisfaction.

And my boy. Lying at my feet as I am writing this. The white cotton candy fur around his neck. His velvet muzzle poking at my big toe. The brown eyes looking up at me when I call his name. Mummy, when are you bringing me out for a walk? Later, darling, later. When the sun is down, when the sky is pink. Then we will go a-romping and do some butterfly chasing.

I must write more. I must.

i just want to jot down love March 28, 2008

• the good-est good goblins met up. other than eating and drinking, i’m laughing the rest of the moments away. darling min sprang a surprise call – nothing keeps a good goblin away. after reading THE JOURNAL (from 1996!) and almost choking on laughter, john said to the huddy, “don’t you think we were cool? we are still so cool.” my goblins, nothing’s gonna change my love for you.

• we attended lil bro’s college band concert with the mummy. like a little reunion of sorts since the bro is always busy at rehearsals when we go back for dinner. i want to play in a band, again. i want to sit on that stage and feel the goosepimples pop out when the band plays in unison. i want to count the bars and take in a long breath. i want to flip the pages of the scores of black and white and pencil scribblings. i want to feel that band camaraderie that i have never felt anywhere else. i miss being part of a band. i miss my trombone.

• i’m haunted by dreams these nights. and for the umpteenth time, we lost latte in my horrid dream. i went berserk in the dream, woke up in tears, rushed out of the bedroom to find my boy. outside, i took him in my arms and kissed the top of his head. i can’t lose you, latte, i told him. he yawned and put his head on my lap. and i cried somemore.

• his love is overwhelming. while the world asks after the mummy and the baby, the huddy busies around the homeland cleaning, scrubbing, washing, cooking – all these before and after working. cheerfully, lovingly. i have to sneak in to help and tell him i need the exercise. truth is, my heart aches so.

• it’s a long month, this march. but what a beautiful month.

sing your way home February 22, 2008

my life has a way of turning itself around in the most bizarre of ways.

my mum who sent me hate smses and incessant screaming calls just three days ago is now a regular sweet mummy i thought i may never see again. she’s a weird one, i’m a stubborn one. but i know i’m the only one who can make it work. i’m not complaining, really. it’s all good now. for how long, i don’t know. for now, it’s peace. thank you, folks here. you’ve helped in so many more ways than you think you have.

and the icing on the cake – a surprise celebration by the dearest college band mates for HK and I. we’re born just a day apart, and bear the same surname, how coincidental. i had a most wonderful night. the sweet sweet joy of chummy time.

and tonight, i served the huddy supper in bed. room service, i say. a slice of the blackforest birthday cake and iced water on a tray. with a very entertaining dog begging for a morsel.

i love february. do you?

one year older, but i feel younger February 17, 2008

dim sum brunchie this morning.

country shopping for the wifey.

a birthday party in the evening.

balloons, pizzas, salad and lemon honey.

songs and wishes.

love and kisses.

thank you all.

join in the little ones February 10, 2008

the abc (aaron, bryan, cheryl) triplets,

the handsome ryan & lennon bros,

the travis terror,

together.

there is

no peace.

just a sweet blend

of innocence

and wistfulness

that i miss.

i is happy.

very.

at the end of the day, it’s still pretty good February 1, 2008

it’s the end of january. gone just like that, and not bringing the warm wind along with it. so february comes and we get bumblebee-busy. the downside of working from home is having no proper working hours, often much longer than i would have liked. sometimes i have unreasonable, maybe even unattainable expectations, and i push myself just that bit harder so that tomorrow will be an easier day. the huddy calls me a slave-driver, oh no. i’m now obsessed with the little stickies on my dashboard, in different random colours to denote the different days of different work lists. what pleasure it is to claim them done. i’m a to-do-list girl, no doubt about that.

it’s full throttle these days. i’m thinking, a little adrenalin is good for my all-too-well-rested soul. but now i’m really beat. and there are many more of these manic days ahead. on the upside, it’s more exciting than nauseating. i don’t know if i’m capable of it all, but i’m trying. things are a little fragmented now, but i bear hope. i let myself believe i’ve a little wonderwoman in me. a girl needs her fantasy.

besides getting wild-haired and overfed, there’s strength in knowing a dear goblin is coming home and we are going to have tea tea tea and more tea. the huddy has been generous in his quirky affection. we send emails to each other. we instant-message. and all along, he sits right across me at the dining table and i could catch his wink. yesterday, after our product photoshoot, i arranged some yam-coloured roses in a white vase for the mummy-in-law and she smiled and showed them off to the daddy-in-law. the huddy bought me a pair of earrings made by my talented sis-in-law and her boy. we have long neighbourly chats with the hos. latte sneaks up on me from under the table and rubs his wet nose on my thigh to say hello, take a break, play with me.

some things are small, but still worth counting.

monday confetti January 29, 2008

my clutch with my handphone, lost and found, at the coffeeshop downstairs. retrieved and kept safe for me by the man we call ‘blur blur uncle’ because he always gets our orders wrong. when i gave him a box of fruits later to say thanks to him and his colleague (who was almost going up to my place for special wallet delivery), he paused for a good three seconds before saying in mandarin, “thank you. i picked it up.” and he gave me a broad smile. he is blur blur uncle no more. he is good good uncle. and i will now no longer be the ‘clever girl who eats no breast meat’. meet miss muddlehead.

the day continued with an impromptu visit by the auyongs. the mummy-in-law bought us a new tap, the daddy-in-law brought his tools. just because we mentioned briefly last night at dinner our tap is dripping a little. so the tap was fixed, and we had coffee and pastries and latte fun. the homeland held a warmth that lingered long after they were gone. how do you tell your folks you love them, i wonder? i must tell them one day, straight in the face.

teatime delight was with vale over more cakes, cookies, coffee and four pots of tea in three different flavours – earl grey, vanilla and strawberry. there was jolly banter aplenty, and there never seems to be enough time when you are having fun. some chums, you just miss. somewhere along the way, they became more than co-workers, and you know these are friends you will so keep. yet another blessing.

this monday, very un-blue, very wonderful.

she’s a gem January 11, 2008

the mum-in-law transferred a big sum of money to us this morning. for the chinese new year, for new clothes, for goodies, she said. and she wouldn’t take it back even though the huddy assured her we were doing really fine. last month, she redeemed a soup ladle, brought olive oil, prawns and other household-y things to our place. we have extra, she said. we both knew it wasn’t true. she bought them specially for us. and for her very finicky eater of a daughter-in-law, she prepares a separate portion rid of things i hate. for you, no onion, she says.

she’s how i imagine a perfect mother to be.

i’ll be making her a card. telling her we love her.

i have much to thank for.