I apologise that full-time motherhood means I barely have any time to squeeze in some affection as the day is over before I know it. But this excuse is becoming so frequent that it barely holds any meaning anymore.

There are so many moments in my life in recent couple of years that went by that I truly hold close to my heart and always end up kicking myself for not jotting them down to seal them into my memories… or the issues close to my heart that I do not dare to graze due to sheer cowardice.

I know one day I will probably regret. Big time. Cos the things that had happened in the past 2 years probably mean so much more to me than any other time of my life.

I was reading back to a couple of old entries, and I had problems recalling who are those people in my life whom I once met, I tried my darnest best to put a face, and I surprised myself with episodes in my life I don’t remember, or the conversations which once held dear to me being locked away somewhere just because they hurt a pretty darn lot for me to recall.

I remember reading one of these entries, dated back in February 2005. It still pinches, as if the rawness of it all is still lingering. Felt a little… morose.. the lack of closure of it all… and the smile it brought forth for that silly romantic in me who never did lose hope. Yet along the way, the gigglish innocence diluted to barely a trace in me.

Time. How merciless it can be.

It is funny how when Minibean is over at her grans, I can never tear myself from the bed with less than 14 hours of sleep, yet when she is around, 3 hours are all I need and if you ask me where did all my time go, I say, I don’t know because it seems like I barely get any time to even wash the grease off my wrinkly face.

I want to buy more time so there are more things I can achieve and do.

One of such things is… spending time with my family. However annoying my mum can be, I really want to make things work for the sake of the cohesiveness of this family. At least I try.

Taking her out of the picture.. well which was what I nearly did very recently when she went berserk over the slightest thing, I realise maybe what I once believed that family will always be family, doesn’t have to hold true that way.

I remember people who used to tell me they wish their parents were dead, in the most indifferent, matter-of-factly way, and they were actually my colleagues from reputable companies of high positions whose maturity I could never surpass, and I silently thought to myself if it was remotely possible for anyone to feel that much.. against his own family.

Maybe it is plausible after all.

Anyway.

What I want to make sure is, I wanna treasure each and every moment with my aging father, not only because of the many recent tragic stories of seeing my friends going through grieves of losing their beloved dads all of sudden, totally unprepared for it and I felt so much of the pain because it is something so unimaginable for me (I really pray they will find the comfort they need), but because I had wanted to do so but procrastination got the better of me.

Tonight’s moment was one of the many I wanted to jot down, but difference is, at least I manage to squeeze in one at this moment, compared to the many other precious moments lost in procrastination.

Dad was going through the pictures he took of Minibean when she was just months old when he brought her to Genting, and bought a digital camera just to capture her growing days. I was making supper for her when I tried to persuade her to spend some time with my dad.

She has been getting a little hesitant to spend time with my dad these days as compared to those days he was her closest playmate, which upsets me, but to a child, a tired gong gong and one who can barely catches up with her these days, is probably someone she outgrows.

It was evident when couple of days back when she climbed onto his head while he was reading the papers just like old times, and after she got him to walk a few rounds, and charmed him into giving into her demand to share an ice-cream, Dad looked at me and asked me if I could go bring the ice-cream into the room as he walked back into the room because he was getting tired.

I was very, very affected.

He was just perhaps a few more steps to the fridge but his physique probably couldn’t take it any longer as he walked slowly back into the room with Minibean still actively bouncing around as she sat on his shoulders.

She then threw herself onto his chest, his tummy, knee-first, and bullied him incessantly.

I joked to my dad how unmanageable this little lass is, and how I was such an angel compared to her.

He went… “Huh… actually, same lah, same.” I suddenly remember how I would make him crawl on his all fours so I could just sit on his back…

I know it sounds too drama, but then every moment these days shared with my dad makes me wanna tear, don’t get me wrong, he is still relatively healthy but the realisation of how fast he is aging make me conceited that people do grow old, and well.. time is slowly running out. Even if he lives till 100, I don’t think I can ever find the strength within me to deal with his absence in my life one day.

And it has gotten to the point that I will be the one offering help to carry the heavy stuff in the family, and when I was twisting a jar open with ample difficulty the other day, I thought to myself how I used to run to dad for help.

Dammit. I am crying now. Fuck, I had wanted this to be a short one, and I know I always getting overly emotional when writing about Dad.

And I am raising my voice more often at him these days, simply because he sometimes can’t hear me anymore.

So. Today there was this moment when Minibean went in to spend time with him, and he showed her the pictures of her when she was.. I think 4 or 5 months old.

He started recounting the funny episodes, and he spoke of the one night my mum went to the casino and he was tasked with taking care of Minibean.

Well I remember how he once took care of me when Mum wasn’t around when I was in primary school, and I remember a charred pot when he burnt my meal and we conspired to keep it from Mum, and the night he brought me to the funfair his friend operated and I played bumper car till like 3am or something, for free, the entire night.

It was Chinese New Year.

So it must be funny how he copes with a baby.

In the middle of the night, Minibean wouldn’t stop crying. Dad gave her milk and she wasn’t appeased.

She cried so badly that Dad didn’t know what to do.

Dad then took her orange stroller, and opened it up when she was on the bed. The moment she heard the stroller mechanism popped open, she stopped crying.

Then when Dad placed her on the stroller, she started gurgling and laughing and smiling.

They went for a walk and the bustling night kept her very happy. Dad got tired and told her he was tired and sat down and she just quietly accompanied him. He turned to her and said it was time for bed cos he was tired, and preempted he was going to bring her up.

She happily obliged and went up without a fuss nor a single protest. I remember how such moments were very frequent when she was a baby.

Dad recounted and was laughing so happily that I stood there and feel like crying. I remember how he would always tell me how I was when I was a baby or a kiddo, and he NEVER forgets.

And my elephant memories mean that we have plenty to share and talk about, or even bicker over for those long chat sessions at coffeeshops.

I wonder why these sessions didn’t come by earlier.

It came to my mind that lethargy overwhelms my dad so easily these days that many things I had planned to do with him, which I delayed from maybe a couple of years back, are slowly becoming impossible.

Like chasing after a kite while he flies the remote-control chopper he bought from China and I know he enjoys playing. I brought up the notion of us going to a park couple of years back and yet it never materialises.

I made a note to promise myself to treasure every, single moment like this, and journal them down.

It is a little morbid to say, but as I journey each and every step of Minibean, which was what I often did, it was the start of her life I am trying to catch up with, as for my parents, as much as I hate to admit it, it is an uncertain ending I am beginning to jot, always fearing for it being too short, and praying for it to be as long as possible.

Monday. I was telling her how it is our responsibilities to take care of our parents, and elders when they grow old, and that spoilt little lass asked a question that had me reacted in absolute candidness and narrowed-eyes.

“So Mummy, when I very very old, will you still take care of me.”

WHAAATTTTTTTTTT! I push you out of my you-know-where and take care of you, when you very very old I still have to take care of you?

Unfortunately babe, I might not be around when you are very very very very old.

“Why? Because you will die? Then who is gonna take care of me? Will Popo and Gonggong still be around?”

This was the part it got too much for me and it was so much denial that I said that I wish they would still be around, but I don’t think so.

I got teary thinking about it.

Even though I know that as an absolute (say, if she is very very old – 80 years old – my dad would be 145 if he is still around, and my mum 135), a part of me refuses to admit it.

She looked pretty forlorn.

Tonight she asked me again if I would take care of her when she is very old. I said I might not be around, cos when people get old, they die. I said it like it was the most natural, and coolest thing to say, but I was shattered inside, cos I know I am not someone who can come to terms with such.

She said she would miss me if I die. Like the most matter-of-factly way.

Then she asked if I die, can I come back to find her.

Uhm, baby, I am not sure if that is what you want.

Anyway, morbid topics. Like the other night some weeks back when she actually cried when she asked me why people die, and I told her it was inevitable.. and she asked me if Papa, Mummy, Gonggong, Popo, Grandpa, and Grandma would die.

I said.. someday we will. She asked if we would go to Heaven, I said we will.

Before I knew it, she was quiet beside me, and people who know her well will know that she is NEVER quiet.

She had her head bowed so I couldn’t see it. But I heard the sniffles.

I saw her tiny elbows moving, and realised she was actually crying at the thought of it, and wiping the tears with her sleeves. I got a big shock and felt guilty of upsetting her this way, she is just a child, why did I even have to shove the truth in her face?

I tried to reassure her, and gathered her into my embrace, and she just hugged me very tight, and just whimpered, “I don’t want you all to die…“.

I really didn’t expect her to grasp the concept, but I guess she did after all..

Every night, since Dad’s health scare, I pray for his health and I thank God for every moment I am blessed to have with him, and pray for many more, till he is 100 and still alert, to come.

I don’t want to miss a thing.

One day, if Minibean ever forgets how much her gonggong loves her, I can make sure I remember the stories to tell her, laugh and recount like how Gonggong will do with her till she is old.

I promise to treasure every tiny moment with my family every, single day. I need to buck up if I want to do more.

Till them, I wanna hold time firmly in my hands, and not let it go. Especially not with people closest to my heart.

It is a new phase in Minibean’s life with all the changes and the things she had since grew out of, like how on Monday night was the first time I had upgraded her from milk to Milo, and from then on she is adamant of abandoning milk for good for the newfound goodness in her life.

I think I have successfully trained her with kegels, that she knows how to fully-control her pee and she no longer has “accidents” at night. I hope I don’t jinx it by saying this. I think the maturing of her bladder comes a tad late, but hey, better late than never!

Where did my baby go?

I know it is also a new phase in Dad’s life… that he has to slow his pace despite his reluctance, and the naggy daughter in me means that I am strict about his diet like I would be with Minibean’s.. and I feel so much joy when we had spent Monday evening out, just the 3 of us, enjoying a dinner and a walk round the supermarket (I have to do the carrying of grocery these days when just months ago he was still the one doing it).

When we reached home, I saw how he piggybacked Minibean and spent some really lovely time with her, and it brought tears to my eyes, and I kept asking them to pose for me. I saw the drag in his steps as she kicked him as he piggybacked her. I felt the pain of seeing him wanting to be stronger than he could manage for her.

My hero. I haven’t been taking much pictures. But this picture just made me cry. AGAIN.

What’s wrong with me, really?

I made him come home on Tuesday to subject him to the torture of my cooking, and the food is so bland (I love my tasty stuff but it’s for Dad’s health and Tongtong’s diet sake…) but Dad is someone who is never fussy about his food and these moments are very, very much treasured. I pray for many more to come.

I was just thinking to myself my reluctance to move out is also because there is a worry in me that when my parents get older, who is gonna take care of them…? I just don’t feel right leaving apart from them.

I want to snuggle right up to my Dad like when I was a little girl, just like how Tongtong always does, and lie on his chest like good ol’ times.

Okay, I shall come back with more chirpy stuff someday soon.

Drafted this post on Sunday and realised I forgot to publish, what kind of daughter am I? Tsk! I tell you, my memory is really receding much faster than Wayne Rooney’s hairline.. but then again, he can get hair transplant, but age will probably erode my memory strength faster than his new hair growing.

To be totally off-topic, which I often do anyway, I had one of those EPIC bimbo moments the day I left for Perth.. say, 2nd June. Yup, that’s right, that Wednesday when I had a performance in Suntec Convention Hall in the afternoon, and I was in a constant mad rush to get my errands done before the trip.

I mean seriously, those “where did I leave my phone huh?” moments when you realise you are talking on it…? I have them so often that they aren’t worth mentioning.

So after the performance, I went to the carpark to get my car and as I was wondering where I parked my car, my phone rang.

I was on the phone with some work stuff and carried on walking, when I finally hung up the call, I resumed the thought to myself… “Where did I park my car huh?”

It was quite a few seconds later before I realise… yup you guessed it, I was freaking sitting inside it, safety belt strapped, no less.

Apparently, my subconscious had walked me to my car, and those who had been unfortunate enough to get heart-stopping car rides from me before would know that having an electronic key means I don’t need to dig out my key to get in the car. So I just opened the door and propped myself in, on full auto-pilot mode.

The silliest thing was, I totally forgot about the need to top up my cashcard, which I was supposed to do before looking for my car, and the phone call debunked the myth that women are good at multi-tasking.

Oh uhm. Not much point in anything I mention above to do with the post below.

***

Dad is away in Tianjin for yet another trip of his, and a call to him went unanswered so I didn’t get to wish him personally on this often overlooked special day for the most important men in our lives.

This Fathers’ Day is exceptionally emotional for me, maybe cos I am hormonally-fuelled these days, but as I was thinking to myself the other day, I found myself thanking God for blessing me with yet another year with my dad, and it is something I do not want to take for granted.

I want my dad to live a ripe, long age and stay healthy.. and seeing how the health scares had came and went, the newest ailment is the degeneration of his spine which causes sharp pain like those I had when I had my slipped disc. It really pains me to even think that with time, they will just add on, with no wish of slowing down.

I can only pray. I can only feel the sharp, sourness in my nose when I think to myself when he mentions yet another pain in his right arm which he has no explanation for, and has yet seen a doctor for.

It was a couple of days ago when this glaring reminder of his age was magnified by me, unintentionally, which brought a knowing silence between us.

It was a tiny episode, but one that etches deeply in my mind, for I think it was the very moment, that I officially “retired” the handyman who takes care of every little things in my life, and to show him that, “hey you know what, Papa, I can do these because of you, and I want to let you rest so you don’t have to worry about me anymore,” though I was very afraid it was translated to, “Hey old man, I don’t need you anymore, stand aside.” to him.

I often write about how my dad makes my life more bearable because something good has to balance out the living hell my mum creates for me day in, day out.

And yes, he never stopped believing.

One day, I shall write about the very day, when I was 26 weeks pregnant, that I asked him out for lunch at the coffeeshop opposite our place, when I decided to break the.. well, uhm, news about Minibean to him (yes, don’t ask me how I see him so often and I was sitting opposite him and he still had no idea what I was gonna tell him), and then maybe it will show how I get this quirky sense of humor, take things as they come, sprinkles of defiance… and he is the person who taught me about forgiveness, not through words, but just an attitude because others can let their bad feelings about you plagued them all their lives, annoyed the hell out of them when thoughts of you are triggered, when you probably are spending the exact same time smiling, appreciating the joy of the biggest fluff of cloud you have ever seen.

He was always my hero, and still is. I was just thinking about how even I was 12 years old, at the same height I am now, he was still piggybacking me, carrying me like a big baby.

The gait is even slower these days, almost becoming like a slight limp.

I can’t go too far or in depth with this post because, it is too raw, or even painful to be reminded of his age.

Ah, I was talking about that day.

The day before he left for Tianjin, a fluorescent light in my bathroom blew.

I have no problems changing any bulbs, but for fluorescent light, it was a first for me. I went to get the ladder, and charged up the steps with a new light sabre in hand.

There were 2 catches at each side to fasten the tube in, and since they were there for a long time, I struggled with my phobia for height while trying to yank at them so I could remove the old one.

Dad just got home and looked on. He was always the one up on the ladder, and then he asked me to come down and offered to help me.

I rejected him, and it was the most painful rejection I ever had to make. Sheesh, typing this I get overly emotional and already am teary.

I think I saw a flicker of disappointment in his eyes as I insisted on doing it on my own. I am not sure if he was feeling a slight hurt cos it was an acknowledgment on my part that he wasn’t like he was before, and age has caught up with him.

I was more afraid he would feel he is useless, and might prove a dent to his ego….

But that wasn’t what I mean.

It was graduation for me.

Since young, he changed every bulb, fixed every tantrum the air-con threw, the plugs, any electrical socket, any wiring… cleared any choke in the basins, toilet bowls.. and never, ever, till this day, forget any appointment that is related to me or Minibean.

Once the management office had decreed we need to update our carpark pass, he already gotten it done the next day and placed it on my car’s dashboard for me.

He takes care of me. Very well.

And that’s why I know I also want to do the same for him.

The other day when some clueless noob kicked and accidentally yanked out the entire telephone socket, severing all the wires it was hooked to… (and yes, it has to be on a Saturday late noon, you expect me to live without internet till Monday?!) and he could only sit around nonchalantly trying to refresh my browser to see if it can work. Like seriously?!

It’s like after you cut my oxygen pipe, you are hitting the heart rate monitor to get me alive again? Ahem. How about doing something constructive for a change, laughs.

So, desperate times call for desperate measures. At the moment, in my panic, I swear this thought came to mind.

What would Papa do?

So I looked for my screw driver, a pair of scissors, some tools and sat myself down at the socket.

That’s what he would really do. And trust me, my instinct was to call him to ask him to help, but I ain’t gonna do that until I give it a shot myself.

Within 10 minutes and some rewiring later, it was almost like attaching a severed head back to where it belongs, then I held my breathand hit refresh.

VOILAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

So proud of myself at that moment can? I wasn’t proud of the fact I could do it, but proud of myself that I am my daddy’s girl.

I don’t know how to fix the air con with the gas tank, but I know the basics of cleaning one. I know how to change the bulbs, fix the plugs since I was in primary school, clear clogs (and I wash the toilets while my dad doesn’t!), drilling and hammering (my mahjong table came apart when I was heavily pregnant and I wielded the hammer wanting to fix it, but of cos no one allowed me to).

I think I can even do most wirings when push come to shove, all thanks to my papa, and I hope this will make him proud.

I can, because of you Papa. You always believe in me.

***

I didn’t manage to say Happy Fathers’ Day to him this year, cos this is the way it is in this family, we aren’t that open with emotions.

Maybe explains why the over explosive emotions on this space of mine haha.

He returned from Tianjin last night (Monday), and I enjoyed picking him up and sending him off to the airport ever since I could do so.

I think I also learn from him that, the act of giving to your loved ones is one that comes naturally, and yet bringing the most unexpected joy.

Dad thanked me, and it reminded me of how I had never done so.

I switched the radio station to 93.3fm (sorry I still can’t compromise to 95.8fm!) like how he used to do so whenever I got in the car (yes I mentioned so many times in this space) when I was younger… so I decided to switch the English station to a Chinese one for him.

I frowned slightly at the sound of the K-pop and J-pop stuff on it and I conceded I am overage to be their target audience already, maybe that’s why.

And then there was this Volkswagen Golf GTI driver who let his ego got the better of him. And decided to do silly things while I made my way from west to Changi.. and I’m driving an energy saving sedan.. uhm.. ?

Gist of it: From west to airport. PIE. Long drive. Traffic was smooth but ahead of me on the fastest lane I was tagging behind the car in front’s speed, so I wasn’t hogging and I overtook some cars before me.

Somewhere along PIE, this Volkswagen was behind me.. and the reason why I am aware, is because of the blinding, inconsiderate headlight of his which kinda became a pain when it was reflected for too long in my mirrors and my drive was becoming too long.

So, when there was traffic, he got impatient and decided to speed up and switch to middle lane, and then braked hard when there was a van in front of him, so he bo bian, suddenly cut back into the same lane I was in and this time, got ahead of me and yet still stuck behind the same vehicle I was behind all the while.

Along the way, I realised my lights weren’t really on to its usual brightness. And my silly car has this silly light lever which you tap to adjust your light. Silly thing is, when you tap too hard, it becomes high beam, and realising my light intensity was wrong, I adjusted it. which just nice was AFTER he weaved in and out of traffic to gain ONE car ahead of me after being behind me for the longest time, so as usual my clumsy hand flicked high beam and I panicked.

So the high beam came up, he seemed to be agitated. He braked hard, on purpose or not, I don’t know.

He then moved off again. Then he purposely changed lane so that he could slow down, let me pass and get behind me to tailgate me while giving me a free blinding laser show (what’s with drivers who are using blinding, inconsiderate headlights for normal driving?! I was so glad he decided to swerve in and out of traffic to move ahead of me before all these ego display). Dad said I should have braked. Abruptly and really hard.

I told him I was in a rush to go pick him up so that was the last thing I want. Somemore he was just being silly, don’t need to stoop to such dirty tactics. So okay, while driving, I will refrain from asking “What would Papa do?“. Then just so happened the car in front of me braked suddenly cos of sudden bottle neck traffic on expressway, I thought to myself, “DIE! WAIT HE THINK I PURPOSELY HOW?” So I braked as gentle and as slowly as I could ever muster.

Then he decided he wanted to drive right next to me, so he changed lane. I sped up to the car in front of him and drove side by side so he had no space to give me evil eyes.

I think he still try to vent his anger whatever ways then it was only when he realised I was going reaaaaallly far east that he decided to filter out of the expressway.

Last I remember, I already removed my 5 inch stilettos, brolly and toolbox from the car. I don’t think throwing a childseat can win me my virgin road rage fight.

Anyway, my Papa is really funny. He talks about which car he fancies. The other day he told me instead of this present car he driving, he was thinking of the WRX. My jaw nearly dropped to the ground.

I told him frankly it doesn’t suit him very well but if he likes it, man, go for it, we only live once!

Couple of weeks back, he told me how nice the Audi TT is. Then later told me about another car. He said he was nearby showroom for lunch so went in to see see look look for fun.

Then in the most evident display of trust, he offered to give me a driving orientation for his car.

It probably really is nothing, but the thing is, knowing how men are so attached to their cars, and offering to let me drive it, is.. just.. well, to me, a sign of trust. And having doubted by the other parent ever so frequently, this trust means so much more to me.

Every single day, I pray for Dad and his health, and I am just so happy that Minibean can build this much memories which the most important man in my life, and is blessed with the chance to be showered by his love and attention they way I was.

Thank you Papa, and I love you very, very much. When Tongtong grows up and understands all the things you had done for her and how much you love her, she will come to know the great man you are, despite your flaws, of course.

Though I must say, I was a little jealous that I only had a toy remote control BMW when I was a girl and Tongtong gets EVERYTHING she wants, a “ferrari” and she has a cool helicopter that flies!

You know, I am actually very, very happy to bring Tongtong to this world cos I have seen the joy she brings to you and this fractured family, and I should have started to have babies when I was 16 (HAHAHA though you would probably have none of the cool you had on that fateful day), so all my children have the longest possible time to spend with you, to love you, to know you.

I am very grateful and I can’t say thank you enough.

?

A friend was amused today when we met up for a short stint of coffee in between my dosages of flu medication.

It was barely a 2 minute journey in the car and my head was too heavy for me to keep them upright.

I whimpered a little and he gasped in surprise, “I never knew you could teyh one!!“

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, especially those who had grown with me in this space, will be flabbergasted to know that I hardly let that side of me shown anymore. *Flips hair*

But since he is almost a decade younger than me, it would of course seem wrong for me to even be that way in front of him, isn’t it?!

I think I am a grown up now. *Gives ownself pat on the shoulder*

Could barely function even though it’s the weekend. I know this space has been left deserted far longer than I expected it to be, but without all the time and emotional capacity to devote some worthy input into this space, I find myself not wanting to short-change the fabulous things, and dilute the emotions for the not-so-good things that had happened in the past couple of months and ended up not writing more than I would like to.

Thank you for all those who are concerned, I feel like there seems to be some sort of accountability for all the worries I unwittingly pile on people who still read this space in my times of distress. Or the strain on your eye sockets when you had deemed me overly dramatic, as usual, laughs.

It is not an easy topic to graze, so I am going to just see where my fingers bring me.

The follow up to the previous post had me panicking and calling a neuro consultant at midnight, and he actually suggested a trip to the A&E to eliminate possibility.

The next morning, the neuro followed up with an email, and a call to check if my dad had went for medical attention. He urged me to persuade my dad to go for a scan, which I spoke to my dad about and he trivialised it. What’s new?

He knew the resistance of my dad, and personally filled up a referral form for a scan should my dad actually take it up in the future, it would be ready and cut down the time in between. Thank you Dr Hong, you have been nothing but amazing.

Just so happened my dad did visit his usual doctor, who insisted he goes for a scan. So Dad called me back to ask me for the referral (within half an hour of the call I had with Dr Hong), and I asked if he would like to see Dr Hong. My dad hesitated a bit and I immediately called Dr Hong to ask to book the soonest appointment I could. Dr Hong was packed for the day, but upon hearing my dad was in the same building as him, he arranged to see my dad immediately.

And a scan was arranged too.

The stroke scan turned out okay, with no signs of bleeding in the brain, but the eventual diagnosis was what I did fear, a typical transient ischemic attack, and his blood pressure was a tad high.

He is now on blood thinner and I have to monitor his diet, his moods and I get nervous whenever he says he is in a rush (which was when his TIA struck that very day).

I am mortally afraid, I still am, though I know it was a temporary stroke, but the inevitable fact that is was sign and a risk factor of what was to come that really troubled me.

As life goes on, that fear lingers.

I think Dad is beginning to loathe me for being overly naggy, but I will illustrate how paranoid I have been.

One day, I heard a handphone ringing in the hall and nobody picked it up. Knowing my dad always leaves home early in the morning, and the time of the day was too late for him to be still home, and too early for him to return.

I sprung up from bed and my heart was racing when I ran to check if he was actually home, because I was worried he might have fell, or have an attack and I didn’t notice.

I realised it was the spare phone’s (which was conveniently left forgotten in the hall instead of brought into the room) alarm ringing and though I was relieved, I nearly burst 0ut crying, cos at that very moment, it hit me how much fear I have been carrying with me.

Everyday, I still pray.

***

I am so drugged out to day I could barely function. Groggy. My reality was buzzing.

And the worst of all, my food is all tasteless.

But it didn’t seem to stop all the PMS cravings and I am quite amused by how the body would be appeased even if I can’t taste the potato chips, just popping them into my mouth does the trick.

I slept through earth hour which means I was in absolute darkness, but also means I didn’t manage to turn the air-con off and switch off my laptop.

Had to skip a family gathering, and I just hope I will be well enough for the week ahead.

Lotsa stuff coming up.

And lotsa plans in the pipeline that need executing. What a bad time to be falling sick.

*Whimpers*

Don’t ask me what I am doing now, cos seriously, I am a jacks of many trades and masters of none, slipping into a zone of undefined, but yet if it is bringing me more than what I used to earn, I ain’t complaining as long as Minibean’s school bills are being paid, and I am spending more time with the family (actually not really now but once everything gets on track…. but I can always hope for the future, right?!).

In June, I will perhaps do an evaluation if this is indeed the way to go or maybe it will be time for me to hurl my ass back to the big, bad corporate world.

***

I am surprised that I have ceased to express much thoughts since end of January, when I had resolute to revive this space. Many thoughts and emotions came and went, many and the words never caught up fast enough.

But much are worthy of me journalling, so that in the future, this space is marked with the significance of it all.. I don’t want this to have all the mindless little things, but all those things that truly matter.

Minibean is fast growing into a remarkable lady, and on 20th March, I decided to let her know the truth.

That her “secret name” is “Minibean”.

The hilarity of her asking, “So does that make you Minibean’s mummy?” and me rolling my eyes and giving her the “no shit, Sherlock” stare was priceless.

Mummy is officially “Scarlop Ting“. After she read the name off the monitor as “Scallop Ting”. I tried correcting her with an intense death stare, but it only manage to remedy half of the damage.

The amazing thing is her reading capability, which makes complaining about her online an almost no-no, and I have to make sure those tweets she saw of me tweeting are “children friendly“. Ahem, that’s because some time ago, she had asked, “Mummy, what is K-N-N?“

She is aware of some of my friends, and she would point out little squares of display pictures to ask me who are those. If I mention a familiar name, she would ask me if the name in the monitor is his/her “secret name”, and she grasps the concept of having an online persona just like *snaps fingers* that.

So proud of her.

And I miss recording the countless gems spew forth by her.

Honestly, missing out the contents in the space is like having a unfillable gap in my life.

Anyway.

I hope to make a remarkable come back with details I wish to record (yah, right, say that for the past 2 years liao), and maybe I will start with something that pissed me off in recent days.

I mean, what better way to reignite passion, with a chestful of rage and watch it burn?

Till then, let me go drug myself and I might get delirious enough to get myself started.

Someone major up there could have heard my pleas early this morning.

And gee, after feeling so hyped up and high for this long, I often questioned myself when will the lull slip in when I least expected it.

It probably did this morning.

Come to think of it, it’s about time the hormones bring forth the awkward loner in me. Happens monthly, you see, laughs.

I am finding great reluctance to head out to face the outside world, feeling very safe only in my own comfort zone, a world built to be known as my own.

I think a series of people have ground my nerves to powder form that I probably need some time off in order to stretch that tolerance a little further next time.

I woke up to see the daylight stolen by the storms, and held the blanket wrapped around me tighter, and tucked my baby pillow under my arms the way I like it.

I actually woke up earlier, probably shaken by the low rumbles out there.

I’m such a wuss. Always have been. Still the same ol’ same ol’.

Checked on Minibean, and my mum quickly suggested not to send her back to school since the doctor had suggested that her viral bug was caused by the bout of flu she had yet to recover from, and she was concerned she might catch a chill with her immune system this low. I actually agreed and scooted back into my room while the 2 of them continued to snooze.

I know how it was one of those days that is perfect for a lie-in, and I fully had the luxury of doing so.

Somehow, I didn’t want to.

It was therapeutic with the daylight robbed, and it was just a joy to fully immerse in the cosiness the rain had brought with it.

I love rainy days.

I still do.

Something about hearing the sounds I fear, and knowing I am protected from it all, with someone I love most near me, sleeping like an angel… is so picturesquely perfect.

I could be feeling some of that moroseness within me, and afraid of the world out there, but at that moment, I felt I truly belonged.

It perked me up, and I wondered how it would feel to just run into the rain and dance all by myself. Skip. Kick. Tap. Sans the thunder of course.

Maybe it makes me feel part of who I was. The younger, spontaneous, and totally oblivious to the world me.

And then, the thought of venturing out actually scares me. Cos… with my walls down in my own fortress, the thought of putting myself out there is almost hard to entertain.

No MSN. No SMSes. Just me, by myself.

It was actually nice with the peace in the house, though it quickly crumbled when mum just had to attack when the defense was low. It wasn’t an attack. But with all things pink and rosy, it could just take a moment, and some words to destroy all that.

I caught the words before the issue became full blown and took my exit. And with times like this, I often shy into my own shell, rather than getting all annoyed, cos.. there’s no walls for me to break my fall.

And with times like this, it just feels like everything I type here is monotonous.. albeit still like water. No exclamation, no hypes, no wails, no frills.. even my over-the-top lame sense of humor gives way to subtle sarcasm, which in my own warped, distorted world, is actually rather witty, I might add.

Which sums up perfectly with the word, boring.

But despite all these emomama shite, I actually feel… happiness in this vulnerability. Cos I feel so liberated.. and I can.. feel.

I took delight in Cycle 15 of America’s Next Top Model, and finding myself taken in to the series (which had never happened in the past cycles), and thought this season is quite full of potential. And there’s something about prints and pictures that could bring about factors about people you don’t see in real life.

Was talking about altering some clothes and the amount of clothes I need to alter is piling, which prompted a desire in me to own a sewing machine. I can even sew back the pillow case for Minibean, which her constant yanking is causing the seams to come apart.

I remember when I was a kiddo, with this very same baby pillow I still cuddle to sleep every night, I enjoy folding in the ears of the top corners, and unfold them, while feeling the fabric in between my fingers.

I remember with this boyfriend I had when I was 19, I once told him if any guy could replace the baby pillow’s material exactly, I would marry him. And it became something I told every guy I seriously went out with.

Alas, it, or maybe it was me, that never meant enough for anyone to put in real effort to search for it.

My cousin had the habit of tickling her palms with the sharp corners of her pillow.. and Minibean’s quirk is to stick her finger into the holes where the draw string goes in.

Maybe I should just get used to using the old-school sewing machine first. And one day, I shall make a dress for her.

It actually gives me orgasmic thrills when I think of getting household appliances these days more than anything else. I am buried so deep into auntiedom that you need a driller to get to me.

The little hermit here basked in the oneness, and any longer might just get lost too far in, had the occasional impromptu conversation, before contemplating between reading, writing, or just a nap.

A nap shall be it. A nap before aerial lesson.

I woke from the nap and it was what I had asked for.

Absolute darkness.

I just laid in the darkness and stayed in my comfort zone.

And I was happier.

I didn’t want to move.

The world out there scares me. It always has. It just depends how well I could pick myself up and face the world, but today just isn’t one of those days I have successfully pulled off much too often these days.

My esteem probably wouldn’t pull me through the day. I will feel too awkward without any defense. I will stick out like a sore thumb and feel absolutely miserable thereafter.

The thought itself made me stay in the darkness a little longer.

I didn’t turn up for aerial.

And I hope it is just one-off.

For there is something more sinister should I just feel too safe by myself.

***

Took a while.

Took some time with Minibean and chasing her around with a bowl of porridge to pull me back to reality.

To remind me that… I am actually hungry.

Laughs, all it took was food, and the appeal to stay quiet in a dark cinema, get your heart kick into motion again by the cinematic effects of a horror film.

Ah. Food. Am I the only one who thinks Mos Burger portion is often too small and you need two to satisfy the hunger? I was at Mos Burger and this guy was looking on.

It was only until he turned away, I let out a mega loud burp, that alarmed him so much that his head darted to my direction by reflex. The burp perhaps kill the hardon. Call me hardon killer.

Brought out the little pouch thingy Jiali got for me during her previous trip which came together with a Jap magazine, and I am using it for the first time. Found it incredibly handy for heartland trips.

I miss her presence already. Something about her presence makes me feel constant.

And then, the movie with sweet popcorn.

It reminds you that the heart, however bruised and delicate, is alive. And still beating strong.

And funny, how it was about the Devil.

I liked it. It was simple. But I liked it.

If you don’t like spoilers, time to stop.

It could give you a little scare, it could give the game away cos possibilities are just so limited. And if you are looking for awesome twists ala The Sixth Sense, this show is not it.

But when things come full circle, the greatest thing of it all is the human ability to confess, repent and forgive, for that supersede everything, and make a difference in the face of death.

Certain things are perhaps what a greater force had allowed to happen, but also have the power to intervene.

And some, in the face of adversity, would still turn to the dark, fake repentance and repeat being the little “twists” as they were.

The movie actually gives hope. And maybe that’s why after keeping my heart racing, I actually feel kinda good when the movie finished.

***

Sometimes I tweet so I know what I would want to blog about, yet when I wanna write about it, it just seems so repetitive and I wonder if there is a point.

The point is probably to be accountable to myself, but for what? *Shrugs*

Got home with Minibean still active late into the night and was reading news when she pointed to a picture in the article and cooed “Mummy! I know the place! Meerr.. mer… Merrleena! Meeleena square?”

Alas, that wasn’t Marina Square. She was almost right. It was actually where the ark is – Marina Bay Sands.

It must be in the genes for her to recognise one of Mummy’s favourite places.

Next up, checking out Ku De Ta.

She then held to my arms and leaned on me just before lights out.

It’s the weekend.

And what it means is the end of my reluctance to head out to blend in with the rest of the world, as it would be time to bring Minibean on her outings.

Still feeling a tad anti-social though.

Ah, short-lived blissful lonely-time.

It was all too fabulous.

It is evident that I have lost interest in words.

All I have to do is to reach out.. to search through all those memories that had meant so much to me, to find those words again.

I could feel the tiny frustrations building up as I just couldn’t emote the way I used to, or let my thoughts flow deftly through my fingertips.

I know what’s wrong. But I can’t fix it.

My reluctance to write has everything to do with my refusal to dig, search, pore deep within again.

Simply because I am afraid of what I might find there, simply because I am scared that I might not come back from that limbo.

Trying. And being extra careful not to tip the balance.

***

I searched thoroughly just to look for something that meant much to me. Your presence was felt as I plunged into a whirlpool of history we shared. I held my breath as I barrier myself from the nostalgia of it all.

Carefully, glazing over the words that once meant much, shut off every skip of heartbeat the moment certain words triggered.. something.

Then I found it. The one thing that meant so much more to me than you would ever do, or you ever did. And the memory bank was locked up securely again. For good, I hope.

***

Half a lifetime of memories. You shouldn’t matter.

But how could you not, it was half a lifetime of memories, however vague.

You were one memory I refused to lock up.

I thought I must have done so somewhere along the way.

Apparently, I had naively underestimated you and let you run loose.

***

You defeated my confidence, but you showed me how I could ever love, abundantly and fearlessly, and on the other spectrum, fearfully. You showed me so many things though so many years had passed.

I tried to remember how we first started, and it turned up a blur, and then did I realise how deep into the recesses I had locked you away into.

Perhaps because, you had once meant everything to me.

And made me realise, a snap of fingers is all it took for you to become someone I never knew.

Wherever you are, be well, cos it just doesn’t make sense that someone I ever feel so much for can become such a stranger.

Especially when I slowed my pace and reminisced, I remembered how I once felt. It felt real, though it probably is losing its shine in the jam packed boxes of memories.

Then, I was reminded, of all the years I thought I had forgotten how it felt like, I felt it all over again.

***

It was me, you said.

I am in denial that I was the one who took you away, from me, from us.

***

It is intimidating to know that I am feeling all those feelings I had kept hidden away. I am afraid the day the tsunami of the past will just claim me as a fatality.

And it is scary to know that you can still feel for every of those people who had left an impact in your life, at the same time (oh gee, such a slut, hahaha), as if those feelings had never left you, and you conveniently forgot the bads, the hurts, the flaws that had made all of the above became stories of the impossible.