Four years on

I know life is a dream for me these days. We are settling into some sort of new normalcy of what our life could be. We wake on a Sunday morning and the four year old requests birthday pancakes. Being a queen of my domain again I whip us up a batch and Daddy wakes in time to help crack the eggs and keep baby occupied enough for me to cook the batch. I even hand the girls each a plate with a pancake on it and watch them toddle off to set the table with their breakfast. This is sheer bliss. I love the new family life. The full kitchen table. The appreciative noms as my meals made are consumed.

I admit I am a lousy cook and I will need more practice to get back up to scratch again but bless my little family’s cotton socks. With a little bit of imagination; meals with bad food are forgiven. I made dark green muffins yesterday thanks to the amount of kale I dished into the TMX. Then I lied to my four year old in a stroke of genius when she teetered on making a scene about the green. “It’s Bogey-man cupcakes”. What does that even mean? But she makes up the stories as she goes. It turns little girls into monsters. It’s the food monsters eat. This morning for breakfast she demands a bogey man muffin and eats up my baked goods.

I cannot believe how lucky we are with our beautiful home. Our perfect lives with healthy children and a lovely group of people that surrounds us. I cannot allow myself to take this for granted. It’s been years in the making. It’s worth it. We’re worthy of it. We must keep on making sure we are worthy of it.

I love my cuddles with my girls and the chat from an excited four year old that remembers everything but makes up half of it anyways. It’s such an amazing mind that she’s developed. I know she knows the rules now and that she knows she’s not allowed to push certain boundaries. I trust her. Still, I find myself nagging all the time to remind them, “ Listening ears and gentle hands” is all I seem to be saying these days.

My four year old counts, sings, climbs, rides a bike and reads. Yesterday when I had had a rough night she served herself some breakfast to let me have a lie in. She’s independent, resourceful and thoughtful. Could I have asked for more? Growing up I thought I wanted boys, but now I can see the Lord’s plans are better. I needed my girls to teach me more about life that I didn’t even know I didn’t know.

On Friday I clicked Buy on four trees. I am doing that. Purchasing dwarf fruit trees for our backyard and a bay tree for our front porch. That’s the kind of life I find exciting these days. In my dream come autumn my little ones will be plucking apples from our own backyard orchard and I will be drying bay leaves and harvesting Sunflowers from the garden. Hah. I just know in reality it will likely be brown and shrivelled up shrubs that are overcrowded with weeds with my non- green thumbs. Stay tuned.

Another bit of news, I am doing things for myself again. At least it’s been planned. A solo trip to Sydney for a girly weekend for my Bestie’s wedding. And a 12 hour hike to Trolltunga on the horizon after that. It will be two bucket lists ticked. A yummy mummy’s getaway and completing one of
the world’s most beautiful nature trails. Whilst it isn’t quite my nature to be an outdoorsy person, I do enjoy solitude with Mother Nature and remember the rare moments fondly. Flashback to the cool soothing breeze in my hair as I cycled amongst the idyllic rice fields in Narita humming softly to myself, no soul,anger or anxiety in sight. Nowhere to go and nowhere else I’d rather be.

When the girls are older I’d like to take them out to the country and get them associated with that too. Until then, we conform, we abide, and try not to appear too unruly or out of place.

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Mid thirties

We arrive at this milestone with an understatement. I am a working mother of two under five with an Asian husband who chooses to embrace his Asian heritage in the household. All this, ipso facto makes getting up the hill extremely tiring.

Growing up in Asia I always knew I was soft. Not as sharp as I needed to be to survive, so moving to the west gave me an edge. I tutted at the ‘soft’ mothers knowing that I could do better than them. Then it became my turn and I was at the edge of multiple realities, I despised everyone but never myself. I became angry and cynical but I couldn’t wallow in self pity because no one would indulge me.

A reality check happened whilst instasurfing at a quick lunch break (non al-desko because I was ashamed that I had leftover KFC and deli coleslaw for lunch). I was trying to achieve it all out of context. I was trying to work like my mother but achieve it in a western society where we do not have the option of affordable live in domestic help. I was completely out of context.

Now to put it in my culture, if I was living in Malaysia, would my peers indulge me taking a whole year off work to take care of my baby? No. I’d be expected to be back at work already after a month, three months tops. Would my society laud breastfeeding for >6 months? No, my kids would have had to take formula from a very young age or starve. Then they’d be fuller and learn to sleep through earlier. Perhaps. And if that wasn’t the case I’d still have to turn up at work and be present for more than 7 hour days. It’d be much harder but somehow I’d be able to find more help that would allow me to go to wedding receptions, travel kid-free and work as many hours as I need to. Somehow the expectations are that a woman in that culture has to be the best at everything whilst maintaining their looks and they seem to be able to get the support they need to achieve that ( not necessarily from their own husbands though I must add).

My current context has been that I have been parenting like a Brit, and working with a drive and ambition that is at odds with my domestic lifestyle. My skincare and diet is European and my exercise routine is Malaysian aka non existent. At this rate, I project that I will end up being fat, old/ tired looking and with no energy, severely bitter about life. I am just not going to succeed despite my best efforts.

Moving continents has meant letting go of a lot. Some expats choose to hold on to some things, building their own antipodean or south East Asian communities to thrive in. Others break free completely and want to adopt what they perceive are the ways of the West. I chose an Asian husband who grew up in Australia. He abhors most things from our culture partially perhaps because my mother in law indulged him... you know made him pasta instead of rice because it was an easy way out. I don’t have the right balance perhaps but I will keep exploring and who knows, I may find it before the next milestone.




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