Almost three year hiatus

Somewhere between the last post and today I stopped blogging to grow up. It’s been a dark and searching time.

Years of silence on the blog as I learn to navigate this phase of catching up with lost time. I had naively thought that coming to UK just was a means of continuing my life dreams from Oz. However, it wasn’t. There was a break of me birthing two incredible human beings yes, but there was also a time when I found out what they all meant when you work in a zone/ flow, doing something you are so passionate about that it never felt like work at all. I must say I have loved every moment of it. It drove me past some dark moments of my life. It carried me through places I didn’t think I could walk alone. I was on a high and excelling whilst not actually even doing very much.

But then I got greedy maybe. Pride comes before fall. I got pushed back again because of my upbringing. My communication skills was lacking. My storytelling not strategic enough. It was feedback that they thought was telling but for third world country upbringing me… no never good enough. I have not really thought about it before but now, after two bouts of therapy and humble pies, I am more resilient than ever whether they choose to see that or not.

I am no consolation prize. If someone says no you can’t achieve that then I will. I will fail fast so that I can innovate even faster. Why can’t I bounce back when I need to? Why can’t I attempt the Inca trail? I seriously will be able to do just what I want I am sure. I have always done so. To my own beat. In my own time. 

2025 is my last good run they say. So let’s ring it in and launch it with a bang of energy. 40s is gonna be my reclaim. 

A Parisian Easter

We are finally aboard the two hour delayed Eurostar heading backwards to London after five days of soaking in the cultural history and decadent delicacies.

It seems surreal to be able to provide for my family in these times, to make memories whilst others are suffering through terrible times. I pushed out the anxieties threatening to overtake my mind and tried hard to focus on my family. 

The bright blue skies and pastries helped the course. We had troopers walking an average of fifteen thousand steps per day the past week. Taking in Paris without complaint of meltdowns until we were back at our Airbnb. We steered the children away from paid playgrounds and introduced them to new pleasures such as sailing wooden boats, finding la Jaconde, climbing into maze hedges at Jardin Tuileries, jumping and climbing Palais Royale’s columns, walking up the Eiffel Tower, watching a flash mob dance-off at Trocadero gardens, lighting candles and praying together at the Sacre Cour, street art appreciation in the streets of Montmarte, Easter egg hunting on the walls of Macdonalds, playing on the interactive wall in Galeries Lafayette, freezing water in plastic bottles to take to the amusement park for a particularly hot day.

Two little girls, as different as they came, learnt to walk along the streets of Paris playing non-digital games, using their imagination and observing how French children behaved ( sadly none of their delightful habits rubbed off). They still managed to make me proud of them in their own ways despite me realising they are likely not as well behaved as the meek Asian children are raised to be. My family back home may struggle with accepting them, but I love their courage and curiosity. I love their positivity and adventurous spirits. Overall my fears of losing them in Paris went unfounded as they exercised caution mostly and always stuck by. 

This holiday was different and I know why. My wonderful 19 year old cousin definitely helped by entertaining them, teaching them games and songs that distracted them in long queues. I felt more relaxed than I usually was. Plus not cooking during the holiday helped me relax too. I don’t think I fought once with my husband either although unfortunately  one evening I did bark my cousin’s head off when we were tired, hungry and he was being politely indecisive about what to eat.

Other than that, I certainly do not regret the holiday one bit.

Making memories and spending time to understand my children is a luxury I take for granted. I know how frustrating everyday life can be but am grateful I took a breather this Easter to celebrate the important things in life, happy families, praying together, forgiving and seeing each other’s perspective together.

May 2022 will bring with it a poignant trip home for the first time without my dad, to try to pick up pieces and address any delayed grief if there is any. I hope it will be peaceful and bond building like this Easter break, but will approach it like my daughters did, brave and open minded come what May.

It was the worst of times; it was the worst of times

2021 was way worse than 2020.

I suppose I didn’t see it coming. Sure we are still standing and yes we had been resilient. There are still loads to be thankful for like good health to overcome a new wave of covid infection that is tearing through the city/ world at the moment and friends that are willing to spend Christmas with us despite us having caught the virus, enough vaccines to go around the adults getting them boosted to fight another bout, a NHS that’s still fighting and not overwhelmed by this wave, a lovely warm home and the ability to put food on the table and presents under the tree because mummy and daddy work hard in this household to make the income that pays taxes and buys nice things.

That’s an easy half a dozen of things to be glad about already, but this year, my values were shattered to its very core as I reviewed what I thought it meant to be a mother and a partner. I admit, I used to view myself as weak if I didn’t keep a clean house and only pursued my own happiness rather than the others in my household. I thought that if I didn’t perform mum duties as well as earn my own keep then I wasn’t a worthy woman. I thought I could handle the juggle and keep it real and raise great kids and take on the world. But noooooo, January’s lockdown called all of that to question. 

I broke on week 1 of homeschooling. Not this shite again, this time with a sassy almost six year old who plainly told me to quit bossing her around. I was tired of the mental juggling with no list of things to look forward to( usually I made a whole load of travel plans in Jan). My husband was unhappy with his work which made getting out of bed so much harder for him too. Gloomy days, locked in with energetic children and unhappy parents. 

Then came the unhappy conversations we had of our friends leaving London, and his unfruitful yet all-consuming pursuit of the perfect job. The juggle didn’t get better. Mentally, we were so burdened that no one conceded to take on anymore. We couldn’t bear to, it would break what little we still had. Loads of laundry, life admin, children raising shitpile, meal after meal after meal. You get the idea of the chugging along that we endured. Everyday a Groundhog Day, every week a new fight about the same old shit about how neither of us were getting any happier, and nothing was making a difference. At this point, perhaps a divorce could have been remedial. 

But then the steps to come out of lockdown were announced, with Easter on the way, and outdoor classes resumed, schools reopened, the Husband being offered two jobs after his dark months, us getting British Citizenship, I booked us multiple UK staycations throughout May and summer, it felt like we could make it through. 

Delta had other plans however, it took from me the one person that I had ever felt had authority over me. Without my father’s guidance in this world, I no longer knew who to share my career or children’s milestones with. Who would I video call to talk me through how to fix a plumbing issue or an electricity fault? The husband knew zilch life skills and never found it particularly an emasculating skill set to possess, happy to let me sort those out with my dad.

That was my May, plan after plan cancelled as I, wrecked with grief, barely survived through the pain. 

It wasn’t until October that our sunshine came back. Ten years recapped at a Michelin starred fine dining restaurant, where we recalled the several years where we were warriors side by side and shared the same views. True the world is a far more fluid place these days than it used to be. I feel inclined to be more flexible given I now realise how naive I used to be, but he doesn’t agree and is less willing to take on board the new world. Which is why we were at the impasse we were at. We are still together however. And after half a life spent together, building and supporting each other, I realised that I didn’t hate him despite how angry and worthless he could make me feel, (which by the way, he’d always done from the beginning), in fact I would be lost without him by my side to be the opposing view that diversifies my life. I could be a very one dimensional bland being, but together we could make a spicy combo.

So here’s the other half dozen of blessings to be grateful for this 2021, Travels to Europe, friendships rekindled, promotions and bonuses at a job I feel appreciated at, two fabulously witty girls who both are unlocking achievements each day (my eldest mastered the rubix cube and was published in a book this year!), a country that is still able to handle the pandemic without shutting down (although this might be writing too soon), a love that has endured the bad as well as the good now and is still not dead. 

I know the way I complain about my marriage sometimes makes my friends alarmed and really wonder if I am better off without him in my life. However, we are both not giving up on each other just yet. I know that I am still anxious of I have no news from him when he is away, or if he is taken with Illness so I do still care. For now, it is about not expecting change or that your partner can bring you happiness. It is about not expecting someone else to owe you or give you anything good in this world but counting on yourself. Because when your walls crumble and your vulnerable self was as exposed as mine were this year, you take one brick at a time and kintsugi style rebuild the wall. Mine is more opaque now. It lets the light shine through, in and out. I don’t hide my struggles and I don’t promote lies. I only aim to build up others with my learnings from 2021 and apologise to those that I had unknowingly shunned in my past.

Did you know time stopped?

The time stopped on the Saturday morning.

That’s when we were told to go in the next morning to talk to the doctors. I thought we’d be given the stats, percentages, the lowdown of where you are at and how much survival rate you’d have.

The time on our clock stopped and I didn’t change the battery.

I was furiously researching post Covid recovery and imagining what your life would entail if we got you home safely. I was planning out various scenarios of how I could safely make my way home to spend more time with you. I was not watching the clock.

Wednesday 26th we made you the meal you demanded and you said it was delicious. Mum and I made plans for your aftercare believing that the soup was actually your first meal to regaining strength on the path of recovery.

Thursday 27th I spoke with you in the morning as soon as Lucy got into my bed but you said you felt tired and wanted to rest. One hour later Mum rang and texted Urgent! Call me! I rang you dad and my girls and I encouraged you to stay strong and fight the collapsed lung. We were hopeful, and I think you too, as you promised you would and then you abruptly cut us off maybe so that you can get the aid you need quicker or maybe because you didn’t want the girls to see them put you into your coma.

Saturday, the time stopped ticking. Mum said we had to think about what final words we should say to you. Some of us still thought there was hope. We recorded words of encouragement. Sarah wrote you a poem, 

“Dear 公公, I love you, I love you the whole way through. Dear 公公, I know you and I hope that you know me too. Dear 公公, I’ve been praying for you. I hope that you’ll get better too.

Dear 公公, I love you, that’s why I wrote this poem for you. 

Dear 公公, I also thank you for being so kind and bringing me to the Malaysian zoo. 

I love you forever and ever”

but said as an afterthought: “and even if you die, I will remember you forever and ever like I said,”

Lucy said, “Dear 公公, I Love you. Be strong, be brave, be free of the Coronavirus. I Love you forever 公公.”

Sunday morning, the doctor said she didn’t think it would be kind to revive you because you would be in so much pain. We said our final goodbyes and mum said you teared up when you realised it was farewell and not well wishes anymore.

The time stopped that weekend and I was frozen in time, my final screenshot of my final moment with you, I didn’t want to leave, but I had no choice.

I never changed that battery but Steve found one that you had bought. It’s like you wanted to give us the power to carry on and that you were willing us to move forward with time. And so Monday came and the clock was ticking again.

But time stopped that weekend, perhaps it had suspended all month. May 2021, my very last month with you. Talking everyday that we could, praying and hoping and missing you. Thank you for being my father and being in our lives.

Wake me up when May 2021 ends

I feel like this day shouldn’t be happening but yet I know it is. Somehow it feels like you are still there and I will hear your voice and you bouncing back again a third time爸爸. But it is painful to see you hide your pain, I really listened to everything you said but perhaps I didn’t listen to the words you didn’t say. Your last words to me to tell me not to worry, I flooded you in my farewell with the same. But maybe I should have worried more, perhaps we should have been more proactive, but then we may not have had this opportunity to properly say farewell. 

Thank you so much for loving me and teaching me to be a noble person in life. Thank you for teaching me to have dreams and achieving those dreams. Thank you for loving my children and teaching me to enjoy life everyday. You are someone I always want to share my hopes, achievements and rants with. I enjoy eating and drinking with you, for you enjoy to the fullest. This sort of life is your celebration of all things that matter to you and you don’t sweat the unimportant issues.

I remember being in a pub with you and realising that you are willing to give all things in life a go. Try new things and deciding if you like it or not. But the love of life brought about with it challenges during lockdown. We couldn’t predict it. Contact tracing was poor and you hid your worst fears from us. I spoke with you everyday and yet I only picked up on the fatigue, not the virus that was busy ravaging your lungs before it took away your last breath. If I knew someone had been to blame for your sufferings, I would make them pay, but God asked me to forgive and I prayed The Lord’s Prayer for you, for myself and for us all to find amd make peace. You have peace and I believe Mum has found peace too. 

It was hard to say Goodbye today Daddy, so I won’t. I will let you live on forever in my heart, in my life, for every animal I hear or see, every plant I nurture into fruition, I will see your passion for nature and your love in them. For every drink I have from now on, I will drink the last drop for you in your honour and memory. In every laugh that comes after this, I shall fondly remember your rolling belly laughter. Your cheekiness, your generosity, your last gift to my children which I will stretch for years of Christmases to come.

Happy Father’s Day and Happy birthday Daddy for next month and the month after next. I thought I’d have a chance to say those words to you; but sadly no. Wake me up when May 2021 ends.

What a Reception!

It wasn’t many posts ago when I wrote about my firstborn’s first day at school. In reality it has now been a year and we have begun another school year. 2020 has been a crazy year just to put it mildly.

COVID-19 changed everything and halted most plans. Gratefully, we remain unscathed. If anything, some form of resilience kicked in and my husband rather enjoyed the lockdown way of life, sharing childcare duties with me, cooking barbecues midweek and getting to know our children better. My children won’t eat dinner without him these days and it has been nice for me to not parent alone in the evenings. 

We also have managed to begin enjoying outdoor activities together more. Going for a walk or a bike ride as a family has become a fun thing that this family can now do together. 

Not too long ago we were on a wonderful Roadtrip to the Black Forest and Lyon which ended on a very very high note. The children have enjoyed activities like bike riding, swimming, table tennis, hiking, seen all sorts of birds and animals on this trip, learnt about some history, and eaten decadent foods. My two year old even surprised me by liking olives at one of our alfresco lunches. They both also didn’t seem squeamish when we fed them frog’s legs in France.

Best of all, the one year goal I had set to change my daughters’ schooling education came true and this week, my firstborn changes school for Y1! I am so elated about it all that I have not stopped praying and cannot seem to sleep very well ever since finding out the news. 

Of course there is the anxiety of my little one having to leave her friends from the previous year. She has grown fond of her mates that she was in preschool with that also went into school with her this past year. She already didn’t like the  fact that they leave Reception, now she is changing schools! I trust that she will adjust quickly but still I feel sad that I didn’t consider her feelings very much when I burst out in joy upon reading the offer email in the car on the roadtrip. She seemed so confused and upset by the news which I didn’t convey to her in the best circumstances. I am still bad mum it would seem. Although she will still see her best mate after school in wraparound care, very cruelly for them, they are separated because of the bubbles of different schools. 

It isn’t new, the first year of school had been fraught with anxieties from me, albeit her steadfast progress which constantly amazed me. Undeterred by having to learn how to write cursive after just mastering her letters in preschool, and ditching Spanish lessons for French, she learnt voraciously through her passion for reading and trying new things. She took up tennis, chess, swimming, cycling and a little bit of table tennis and engaged in the learning. This past week, her teachers have observed how bright she is and moved her up a reading level. All very good points to affirm what I always knew in her. It did break my heart when on the first day, a little girl we already knew rolled her eyes when her mummy asked her to escort my LO into school. And again when upon pickup my firstborn says she played all by herself in school. I never expected her to be popular but had always been glad (perhaps took for granted) that she at least had her one true friend in the past year. 

Still, one week in, she seems settled, and happy to be learning again. I am again humbled by God’s plan for me, how He has chosen a far better path than I knew for myself. Given me a daughter who teaches me more than I knew I had to learn about humanity. She bears my outbursts when lockdown motherhood gets a bit tough, she stifles her silent tears and puts on a brave face when I have lost mine. She holds my hand in her little one fiercely, just to calm me down. It is all a bit Vanity Fair. She is Emmy and I am George, not the best Mother she deserves. 

My littlest one, the Becky Sharp who is wily and mean on the other hand gets all my fawning because she flashes her cute smiles and exerts herself in all aspects demanding my attention. Some days I realise I spend too much time playing to her whims and not asserting my authority to make her do the right thing. I have tried to flip this recently and be stricter. We possibly need to try harder with her academics too. She is slow to follow her sister’s footsteps in letters and numbers but her imagination is coming to live, ignited by following her sister in play. She kneads dough very deftly and intuitively to my surprise and loves helping me make food although she doesn’t eat very much of it. 

My life can be complete now. I can keep this story going on this wonderful trajectory. Or we could tempt fate and try one more time to tip the balance. Not a decision to be made today, but watch this space, the lockdown has made us yearn for social things, learn new skills and compromises, Miss our families back home. But it hasn’t broken our spirit or our faith in God and humanity. So, until the next time I have something meaningful to write about again, I bid adieu to this chapter and hope I never have to homeschool again.

Things my kids say

Miss almost two: “You’re not funny daddy!” 

L says about her older sister, “姐姐 stepped on poo poo” when it was only some moss. 

Me: “ Did you do a poo poo L?”

Miss#2: “Maybe”

Me: Who farted?

Miss#2: JieJie

And upon grasping the concept of Potty training proceeds to tell me each time she’s been successful, “I’m so proud of you Mummy!”

Miss#2 wants her sister’s cup of water despite having been given her own. 

Daddy: that’s the same water.

Miss#2: I want that Same water.

Miss#2 also tries to imitate her sister by announcing the time in the morning to get me out of bed to make breakfast. She looks at the clock and looks at me declaring, “its 7,8,9,10 o clock Mummy”

She was sandwiched between me and her sister one night in a hug and Miss #2 didn’t like it one bit. “I not Ham, I am Baby!” Then when we repeated after her mockingly, she jokes, “I not Baby, I am ham. Eat me eat me!”enticing us to blow raspberries on her belly.

On a regular basis, “Where Daddy gone? What ya doing? Why? No Dahling. Don’t do that Dahling, remember?”

Miss FourY.O: “The teachers let us watch a documentary on jellyfish on TV today. Because they were too lazy to teach us.”

Also her when I greet her in the mornings trying to sneak a cuddle before her all-consuming sister wakes up: “ Don’t face me mummy. Turn ard and face L so that when she wakes up she can see your face and not cry.”

The older one says to the little one, “L can you do me a favour and put these books back”. I cut in and reminded her to say the magic word when she wants something done. “Oh, Abracadabra”

Walking past a cafe, she announces that place has no restrooms. I wondered how’d she know, to which she replies, there’s a sticker on the door that says Just Eat. And then demands to know if I am laughing at her or with her.

The two are chalk and cheese. Whilst one will wear her Melissa wellies as a fashion statement and would never dream of dirtying them in a muddy puddle, the other would not think twice about running into the largest muddiest Puddle with her sparkly gold shoes. She’d scream in mock tantrum when disallowed, “Life’s not fair!”

The older one loves reading and is mostly self taught, able to read books even from August 2019 with no pictures as long as she’s been told the story and now having started school she writes diligently and enjoys writing sentences by herself.

The younger one has developed a love for books too and I am well pleased. Something about this makes me feel they will be set for life because they will always be able to get information and never be bored if they can read and enjoy it.

I keep having to remind myself not to be too greedy. Two is just right and I may miss these days when they are both cute but at the same time, I will miss the days now in just a moment passed by. I already see their wills and I try to discipline them without breaking their individuality although that is hard given we were brought up to not be heard as children. I cannot seem to get the balance right. 

Yet, I am proud of them and remind myself that they are doing just right and that I will always be here to tirelessly guide them onto the right path.

Two cute to be

NB: I drafted this ages ago but never got around to publishing the draft.

We made it! She’s two and I’ve been back at work a year now. 

I thought she’d be terrible but surprisingly with us standing our ground, she’s starting to understand she cannot get her way and the tantrums subside into a tearful, “I’m sorry mummy” instead.

She knows more than I gave her credit for. She understands the words we speak in both English and sometimes Mandarin. Whilst not as creative at expressing herself, between her sister and I, we understand her quite well. She picks up on sound a lot better than her sister does and she can carry a tune better. Ah yes, she sings. Lots of singing and she shushes next too sometimes. She knows most of the classics, Horsey, Horsey, ABC, Wheels on the bus, Twinkle star, Baa Baa Sheep, speckled frogs, zoom zoom zoom, 5 little monkeys, old MacDonald, once I caught a fish alive. She can sit with the book of Nursery Rhymes and turn each page and sing a song in relation to the picture on the page. 

She is keen for us to read to her now as she begins to be curious about stories and what pictures mean. Whilst she doesn’t know her colours well, she can certainly name things well and proudly acclaims, ‘I made this’ or ‘I did it’

She plays Simon says really well, and enjoys drawing, adores Peppa Pig as well as play dough. She’s starting to like stickers and definitely can count to ten (plus backwards too I’ve been told). 

She loves jumping, swimming (which we don’t take her to enough) and dances by wiggling her bottom. With us she truly blossoms, but in public she observes for a very long time, too cautious to join in independently. She loves helping me in the kitchen, eggwashing, shelling peas, filling up pots with rice or pasta, spending time with me by her side or her by my side is a big must in her every waking (and sleeping) moment.

Yes, we still cosleep. She cannot let me go yet. Perhaps we don’t spend enough of our day together anymore and so it’s down to the nighttime snuggles. I forget to see the world through her eyes so much as I did with my firstborn.

But last week we taught her the art of trick and treating. Whilst she refused to don a costume, she got the hang of walking up the driveway with the other children and choosing a candy of choice from the bucket. We are still working on her saying thank you to strangers, but she gave one of them a high five after she scored a chocolate coin from the treasure chest at the haunted pirate ship.

After all that fun and candy counting, we settled as a family of four to watch the BATTERSEA Park fireworks display for Bonfire night. It was glorious to introduce my children to a firework display when their daddy and I have enjoyed so many with each other in the past 18 years. This was our first as a family of four. I am pleased that they loved it every bit as we adults do. Am thinking of making this our tradition now. 

At her two year old birthday she did a poo in her potty, and was frankly quite surprised it happened. She tries to copy her big sister but also gives as good as she gets. I am thankful that they play well together.

Dahling, I love you and I miss you the moment you aren’t in my arms. Something about you being my youngest and last makes me just want to keep you tiny for just a bit longer. Hope you don’t mind being my baby. 

Love your #selfie

Somewhere in the universe, someone is watching out for us mums. No one in our immediate circle, no those little ones and the man will take us for granted day in day out. But a couple of weeks ago I was tapped on the shoulder by another female leader at work asking why I wasn’t looking for more in my job, whether I was being fulfilled and why wasn’t I managing more people and joining her in her leadership team. She looked into my eyes and saw my potential. Very gently, she explained that I do not have to give up my work life balance, that I can still stretch further and be a great mum still because the hours will remain the same. She says I overextend myself already anyways but in a thankless role in the firm, so why not overextend in a more rewarding position. It’s one of those offers I cannot refuse. She’d planned it through for me, slowly increasing my responsibilities so that I am not overwhelmed and then promotion track mapped out too (something I haven’t quite managed to do by myself successfully).

I think I choked back tears. The man was supportive, if he worried about my wellbeing, he didn’t show it. Realistically, he won’t be changing his habits or taking on more work at home so I’d have to maintain status quo. It’s not fair that it’s not equal, but for my kids’ wellbeing, I’d have to put up with that for how it will be. Also that third child that he keeps threatening me with cannot materialise. 

It’s time for me to focus on me. The kids are growing up, it’s time to get them to be more independent. It’s time for me to not feel guilty for taking time for me. It’s time to wear more jewellery and makeup and not make excuses for not being presentable anymore. It is time to be seen. Once more.

First week of school

I have had a relatively emotionless week surprisingly given the fact that my firstborn has started school this week. Also coupled with the fact that my parents are in town, I really expected I’d be in a worse off state than I am now. Perhaps I am older now or sleep deprivation and post trek recovery has taken the physical strain on me and left no room for the emotions.

Surprisingly I got through her first week of school without the excitement or fears I thought I might. I do feel some things though. Immense pride for one. My little one has gained so much knowledge in Preschool that I know she won’t be overwhelmed at school as I was on my first day. In fact I did wonder if she’d be underwhelmed and bored even but so far she hasn’t shown any signs of that. The poor little girl reads so well by herself but has always got her head in a cloud of dreams. She has little self awareness like me, but every bit of confidence in what she knows she likes, always gravitating towards non-girly things and asking for trousers instead of skirts. We try to protect her and observe on her behalf as well as pick up clues from what she tells us on whether there are any missed social cues in her life. That said, the anxiety I feel isn’t as crazy as I thought I may have had.

Where I worry I have failed her is more to do with the choice we made to send her to state school. Whilst I do not want to raise an entitled child, I do feel that I could do better for her, and so part of me hasn’t accepted our status quo as the end of the game. I am still very much in the game and on the waiting lists of two other schools hoping very much to get in within a year (fingers crossed), as I do wish to get my little one into nursery in the same school as her sister and applications will begin in Feb.

I also feel like I have not researched her classes and lined them up as well as I should have. There’s a fine line inside me that is dividing the laid back Mum from Tiger mum territory. I feel like I need to make a stance and forge ahead instead of toeing the line and worrying about being judged. Inevitably every other mum seems to be letting their child learn at the very least swimming and a language, so I am not really pushing her in the wrong directions am I? I have spent way too much time instead trying to manage our finances I reckon. And in doing so, fallen behind in planning her extracurricular. Here’s the wish list: performing arts, science  and maths camp, swimming, mandarin, musical instrument, tennis. That’s all I have in mind. 

In reality, all I have got is performing arts lined up and a half hearted attempt at swimming classes enrolment. The big ‘projects’ I’ve got to tackle next are cycling without stabilisers and potty training the little one. Both seem like such big hills to climb next. Gosh... I really hope I can muster up the energy to take on both soon enough.

I am the epitome of bad mum in the area I live in. But then again, I have really thoroughly enjoyed the simple quiet pace with my little ones. Perhaps they have been so bored from not being stimulated by the range in activity that the older one has self taught herself to read and the little one has decided to self learn how to dress herself. I can’t help but feel so blessed to have them both in my life.

Saying goodbye to my parents with them in my ear about how good my husband really is and how much I’ve spoilt my children albeit them being in thorough agreement that they are very cute and bright. I again walk away from them in the airport too void of emotion to process the task before me. My Aunty suggested that life as a young mother is hard but I can’t complain really because my in laws have given us so much help in every way imaginable this past nine months that it didn’t matter what the shortcomings of my husband and children were, I’ve allowed myself to go soft.

It is now time to rev up and dial up the parenting energy to make things right. After all, I will have to maintain the beat, Andante or Allegro, it’s my choice truly.

They don’t need me as they once did

Two little girls were playing with a stash of cupcake paper cases that they’d stolen out of the kitchen drawer. They’d opened it up and emptied its contents onto the garden furniture, undecided upon what game to play with this newfound toy. The one year old decides to crumple them up in her stronghold. The four year old despairs at the diminished stash. “Play nice. Figure out how to share them!” Mummy calls out from behind the kitchen counter, unwilling to play mediator this time around. Big sister asks for half the cases politely. The little one, half her size, yells and gestures her fist determinedly, ”No!” Mummy and Daddy exchanges glances stifling the giggles that are bubbling to the surface as the little sister exerts her position once more.

That was a peek into one of our many lazy Sunday afternoons recently. We are currently enjoying communicating with the girls. The little one has exploded with a flurry of vocabulary, suddenly able to name a range of objects around the house, animals and food (making it hard to discern if she’s practicing her vocab or ordering food not served for dinner every evening meal). The elder one astounds us with her acute and cynical perception of the world from announcing that the teachers are having a lazy afternoon when they put on a video documentary for the preschool class, to correcting daddy when he claims he has cooked the roast that mummy marinated and prepped ready for him to put into the barbie.

When Michele Obama finished their two terms at the White House, she reflected that,” I have two nearly grown daughters who needs me less than they once did.” Reading this sentence sent me bawling on the plane as it made me painfully aware of how fleeting our moments are. Of how my one year old only whines because she is now too tiny to be able to be as independent and helpful as she’d like to be( e.g helping mummy chop carrots with her Global knife). Or why my firstborn gets on the defensive because she is trying to hold on to the known and reluctant to become the next progressive being growing up requires her to be.

I lay in bed cosleeping with my daughters every night currently with their little warm bodies curled up against mine. My husband abhors it and wants me back with him but I secretly adore the stolen moments I get watching them breathe peacefully or holding their little hands in mine or smoothing their hair away from irritating their noses. Cleaning snot, smoothing ruffled duvets. All precious. Even more I love falling asleep with them. The songs and little games we share as we egg each other on some nights fighting sleep. My elder one saying a million goodnights in multiple languages actively procrastinating bedtime. The merry mornings when they greet my eye opening with cheeky grins and a bright,”Minion!” Before the one year old correcting herself to say Morning! Their little cuddles and kisses for me and for each other. Watching my older one assume my role in singing to and bouncing her almost two year old sister. So tiring, but so fulfilling at the same time.

There isn’t any further point to this post other than to recognise that I am struggling to juggle and treasure all the good opportunities I have been given currently. A fun family, a beautiful home, a rewardingly challenging career and some budding friendships socially. They are all good struggles and I don’t want to be an ingrate. I am happily exhausted. And will likely continue to be so as we keep on.




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I took care of it

”Mummy I had a nose bleed but don’t worry I took care of it” announced the four year old 6 a.m. this morning? The groggy version of me scrambles to compute the words. Then I launch out of bed lurching my nipple twiddling nineteen month old out of her pre-morning trance. A deep breath precursors her waking. “Waaahhhh!” And there it is.

The start to our first full week in a while. A day after my first practice hike, I haul my recovering muscles into action. As the balls of my feet touch the ground, I realise they aren’t as sore as I anticipate they could be. Ahh well then I have no excuse but to get on with it eh?

A wet wipe to clean the residual blood from her face, a baby placed on my left hip we all then proceed into the kitchen where I promptly mix two bowls of warm weetabix. How can it still be so cold in May? But then again I am in summer pyjamas and the sun is shining fiercely already against the bright blue skies streaming through the skylight in the kitchen.

I plod on as the toddler throws her breakfast around, mumbling back responses to my chatty four year old. Something about how if she gets hit then she cannot hit back. Then she turns schizo and starts to tell me she loves me and oh no we forgot to go to church yesterday, I jerk my head towards her and gave a steely stare daring her trembling lower lip to not give way to a wail. I cannot abide another tantrum on this Monday morning. If I could have a better morning it will be easier to face the week I know it.

As they continue to eat breakfast I proceed to prep for dinner, putting the rice to cook and marinating some sea bream fillets to bake together with some asparagus tips as soon as I get through the door tonight. I am stopping by to see the nurse after work. I hope she isn’t going to run late because I can’t afford to be late picking up the girls either.

I check the weather forecast, quickly water the plants, and then pick out weather appropriate clothing and proceed to change the girls and myself. “Daddy!” I hear gleeful shrieks as I look up to see my partner in crime swoop down to pick up a delighted toddler to greet her. It’s always the case, they reward the one who has done the fun thing for them not necessarily the menial.

Ploughs on, packing bags, my lunch, mentally making lists of groceries I need to restock on my lunch break.

Right I am ready for my work week to begin. I call our little family together for a huddle. The little one runs to me declaring her blouse is wet. Never mind, I came prepared as I was packing her spare clothes bag. A change of blouse and a cuddle, an Eskimo kiss for my older one because well that’s her mode of farewell currently.

I walk out of the house and can’t help thinking just how much my family has grown in the past seven months since I had returned to work. A dumb smile spreads across my face because it is one of those rare moments where I do feel like I am winning at this Working Mum life.

A precarious position that is easily tipped over by any momentary loss of focus/ challenge to my mood( best kept temperate for optimal conditions) or distracted thought. So with a hop a skip and a smile, I charge onwards to start my Monday morning bravely knowing that if I didn’t take care of it( which I am 85% sure I have) then the other members of the family unit/ nursery/ society will do. I just have to have faith and keep positive about it. 

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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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HFMD

It’s nature’s way of telling me to slow down. We have had a glorious Chinese New Year in our new place. Far merrier than Christmas and it was due to all the relos flying in from all corners of the world.

I have had so much fun with a house full of children that the worries that come with overexcited children who are pumped full of sugar and lack sleep completely slipped our mind. The kids governed themselves and there were so many of them we often forgot at least one.

That week we had as usual a tumultuous reunion meal as an entire complete family and there were the usual condiments- tears, fights and tantrums. Thankfully no nudity and exposed nappies this time around but with five under ten it is almost impossible to guarantee that wouldn’t have been the case. We followed up with a lovely photo shoot taking inspiration from some famous family portraits. And then they trickled off to the airports, Heathrow, Gatwick... one by one our household of eleven reduced and the laughter diminished. I loved the jokes, digs and the stolen moments between the couples.

Amongst it all the littles demanded more of me. Fully worried they would be lost amongst the chaos, I had to give them even more attention than my usual. More cuddles, more laptime, more bedtime stories and more ‘Haks’ as my toddler would say with arms tightly wrapped around my neck. It is a humble moment. As I stoop bent down and she tips her toes to reach our embrace.

This CNY has been fraught with illness, death and worries in my Malaysian family and our little English haven has seemed quite cheery in comparison despite the cold and the unanswered rumination as to whether this could be our last time having everyone together.

I know I said I’ve had my last. And I know I really don’t think I could mentally and physically survive a third newborn, but I see my friends on social media in their pregnancy announcements of their third children and something about keeping up with the Jones tug at me regardless.

This household will be full of angst shortly though and the worries that come with raising wilful moody teenage girls will not escape us I am sure. Till then, it’s all I can bear to entertain. My Home, Family, Mothers and Dads journey has only just begun really as I let my toddler lie on me a little while longer, drifting away to reprieve from the multiple sores and ulcers on her hands, feet and mouth.






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My 2018 Alphabet

Adoption. A beautiful baby finally arrived for my long waiting well deserving cousin. She is definitely a bundle of joy for the family, a lovely new chapter that’s been born, enveloping my beloved cousin into the hazy throes of newborn motherhood.

Buckingham Palace. The summer visit with our girls was entertaining especially when using the interactive guides in each room introducing history via games for the little one.




Cousins (to my children) visited London from Hong Kong and stayed with us for two glorious whirlwind weeks. Our kids have grown closer from this short visit, living in close quarters. I hope we’ll be able to gather again like this in the near future.

Dancing (and singing). For the first year in her Christmas performances, my firstborn has emerged from her shy cocoon shining bright like a star, remembering all the words and actions without prompting. I couldn’t be prouder to be her Mum. We even had parents stop us in the street to praise her for how loudly she sang in the Christmas play.

Engagement. My best friend has finally found her happiness as well as the new hopes and joys that come with planning a wedding and the dreams for spending her future with her forever soulmate. I am excited to watch this new chapter of her life unfold.

Forever Home. I said end of last year I didn’t mind not having our forever home but it weighed on our minds. It struck us as a momentous milestone in our lives when we fell in love and hastily made the arrangements to uproot and move in before I went back to work. We promise this will be where the girls will grow up and can’t wait to unfurl our lives in here.

(Becoming) Godparents to beautiful little L has been a surreal commitment. We had such a brief ceremony for this big a lifetime and spiritual commitment it doesn’t feel like it has happened at times. But here we are and we are grateful to have been given the honour. We would be pleased to always have her and her family in our lives.




Hampton Court Palace’s Magic Garden was a big hit with the kids this summer too. We went about five times. Who doesn’t love a bit of magic and dragons in their lives?

Independence. Toddlers and children who want to hold their own but want you to stay near all the same. They are cute unless you are struggling for time, then it’s infuriating. Still, time passes to quick and there’s not long till they will dismiss us and no longer require us to hold their hand or watch them perform these tasks caring for themselves.

Juggling. All the time. With the bigger space comes more household chores alongside caring for young children with a full time work load; it is a lot to bear. If I eliminate all hope (and self-pity) that I can receive help, suddenly self-reliance gives me Adrenalin to get me through. I need to install boundaries that will work well for me and the girls. I need to be strong and centred and unaccomodating to any old school patriarchy. I need the girls to know we do not need a man around to get things done and that our lives are not fun only when Daddy is around. I will hang on to these affirmations in hope that they will give my girls independence in life and a rooted understanding that their happiness (and mine) is not pinned upon having a man in their lives.

Koalas and Kangaroos. Feeding these marsupials at Symbio Wildlife Center was a fun experience for the whole family. It’s a lesser well known gem but a highly recommended one over the Zoo when visiting Sydney.




Lixir skin care is my new favourite. It took care of an age spot I had on my right cheek that I got from five years ago. It’s not expensive if you have the right cashback combinations on from ASOS. I’ve decided to replace my Ordinary serums and masks with this range’s night switch and Vitamin C paste because I feel it’s done wonders for my skin.

(St.) Michael’s Mount in Marazion was a bucket list visit for me. Between our stumbling toddler and me hauling a baby in a carrier, I was proud to say we made it up and down the mount through the rain and cold. A beautiful island to walk to when the tide is low and then fun to take a boat back when it’s high tide.





Nexplanon. Inserted on the 16/1/18 to take me through to 2021. It’s a statement that I am done with baby making as I cannot muster the inner strength to grow another being inside me, moving things around inside, bearing down on my bladder and cervix again. Am pretty sure third time around everything will get pushed out. I also do NOT fancy going through childbirth and sleeplessness for another year again.

Ocado. Online shopping basically has been God sent this year. I think I find physical shopping too hard these days. I need a search function and someone to keep suggesting offers to me that I may be interested in for it all to work.

Playgrounds, picnics and play dates galore this past year. My little ones and I have loved every moment so I hope to hang on to those memories. If I could just have this every summer until they are grown, I should be quite content.



Qualifying for our ILR after passing the Life in the UK test offered us momentum in the direction of our future lives. At least it certainly propelled us to consider whether we were staying or going and we are pleased with the decision we have made.

Rangemaster kitchen. This wasn’t even a dream until I owned it. Suddenly I cannot imagine cooking with anything else. It’s such a beautiful oven; easy to use and maintain too. I was intimidated at first but have now learnt that it is my family’s friend not foe.

Sleep (lack thereof). This is an obsession for all parents of young children. I spawn babies who don’t sleep in their first fourteen months reducing my life expectancy from the two and a half years of sleeping only max five hours a night. Part and parcel of how shockingly tough parenthood is.

Tuscany. We were spoiled by its excellent fare this sweltering summer. Driving through undulating green hills and bright cheery sunflower farms, we indulged in gelato and pizza galore. Watching two of our favourite people that we’ve met in London tie the knot made the days spent here that much more special.




Unity with my husband, being on the same page, playing on the same team. I realise how fulfilling and intimate it can make us when we work together as an effective team. Our values are aligned and our beliefs not dissimilar. Yet I am only human and with sleep deprivation, I tend to forget to behave around him; somehow we bring out each other’s worst rather than lift each other up. Be kind. Be Kind. My Mantra to survive this relationship.

Vexation. I am perplexed by how set in her ways my mother in law had become. Her fixation on argument and being contrary which once struck me as a strong woman who could hold her own is now rather domineering and inconsiderate of who she hurts. She says things she doesn’t mean just to pick a fight. In fact I wonder if all old women are like that? My own grandmother always said keeping quiet as a live in inlaw keeps the peace. And my mother in law has always wanted to fight it out. Perhaps because I was raised to expect one thing I now feel the provocation from her part completely unnecessary.

Wetlands Centre membership has given my girls and I some good hangs this brilliantly hot summer. Their ducks waterplay has been fun as has their Lego wildlife.



X-ray for my hypersensitive tooth that has made my cold drink and nut consumption just a tad less enjoyable this past few months.

Youth. It’s slipping me by and with my second child I feel older than ever, my body aches, slumps in ways it didn’t with my first. The sleep deprivation mellows me out. The fighting flame is very rarely there. Consciously I choose to replace it with gratitude and joy in the little things, like my children’s laughter and cuddles.

Zip line. I helped build her skills by encouraging her on different levels of difficulty. Step by step she trained her ability and prepped; my three year old conquered the Zipline despite her fears. I was one proud mum the first time I let her go off on her own, she made it to the end and now has learnt that she can achieve loads as long as she builds it up like a tower, block by block at a time.

2018 flew past I am sure. The mundane gave way to some exciting business in the end. It was an unforgettable, pivotal year in our lives. A true blessing to have had the variety of experiences and decisions fulfilled this year. I haven’t planned 2019 just yet, though I know it will require a finer act of balancing than 2018. I just look forward to the break that will come before then. I am off to find a mince pie and to steal a cuddle and a kiss from my little ones whilst they are still little.

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One year later

I have rejoined the work force. My littlest turned one and it was the most ordinary day in our new ordinary. The preceding month before that had all been about packing for the move, unpacking after the move, ordering, receiving and building new furniture whilst making sure the baby is safe in the new house.

We have our dream home and I still love it everyday. I love it more and more as we put our own stamp on it each day. Sure it doesn’t look as much of a show home as we initially fell in love with but it is our lives on display there. The strewn toys, the child’s bath tub, the various toothpastes with each family member’s fluoride needs cluttered on the bathroom sink and each person’s towels hanging on the towel rails all representing each of our footprints in the home and I do not let it irk me.

I do feel robbed of my last month of Maternity Leave as the amount of time put into the move has meant I didn’t get to develop my girls as much as I would have liked. Sure little L had great fun ‘packing’ as she threw various things into boxes for me. Sure S enjoyed quietly sitting by and tracing Chinese characters with a highlighter, but those achievements went quietly unnoticed in present time. So many times I had to say “Not now honey” to a request to play or read with my toddler and so many times I’ve discouraged an inquisitive baby by strapping her into the baby carrier. If only I had double the amount of time in my day so that I could go about running errands as well as being a dedicated mum. I spread myself too thin as did Mr HEA and I hope our girls forgive us.

Miss 1, you have finally understood that Mummy is not going to always be around and that you’ll be ok. Even if it means you don’t let go when you do find me, I know you’ll be alright. You have really begun to understand words and communication between us all. You do really well in Nursery, enjoying circle time most and the constant singing in your new environment. You clap and bounce and wave happily along with your new friends and I believe they are teaching you to walk as you spent your first weekend after Nursery cruising a lot and pushing around bar stools like walkers. You no longer need to feed to sleep though I am sneakily still giving you boob throughout the night. You have the cheekiest demeanour as you find splashing me with your bath water, eating my nose and putting food in your hair the funniest things to annoy me with. Suddenly you have gone from a child who abhors food to now adoring it. I feed you rice balls, bananas, veggie straws and apples which are suddenly your new found favourites. You started taking a dummy last week and cows milk out of a sippy cup last month. You never cease to prove me wrong, perhaps because you are always so easily bored and in want of a new distraction. I know that this means I don’t have to worry about you trying new things and that in your own time, you will accept them. My daring, sweet yet cheeky child thank you for the past year, validating that I can be a competent mum if I relax just a tad.

Miss 3, you can trace lines and try very hard to colour inside the lines now. You can do buttons and blow your own nose. You pronounce L and K better than before and you can read small words with phonics now. I know you can climb very high on climbing frames and you can slide down poles too. My fearless, clumsy, clever little monkey, you are so imaginative and so protective of your loved ones, I love your mother hen nature and hope in time to shield you from the pain that also comes with not being able to watch your loved ones fail for themselves. You are brave my little one, able to bear sadness and pain with your quiet strength, though you would sing our ears off with your made up or newly memorised songs. I was very sad the other day when I had to force you into a quiet corner because you couldn’t control your temper you were so tired and hungry. I couldn’t bear to see you so distraught but you were so mean and disagreeable before food arrived. I know that is a side of you that I need to teach you to manage even if I was never taught it myself. I know what it is like to feel sorry for yourself and to feel that the whole world has turned against you in those moments. You are a true reflection of me my child. Please trust me as I help you navigate your emotions and imagination in this big world.

I love you two more than I’d ever imagine I could and I have had to be tougher on you lately because I hope to shape you both to be kind and useful human beings. Please do not let us take in vain every laugh and every tear we share together as I hope to see you two become strong influential women who apply yourselves in your chosen vocation. For now, learn through play and enjoy childhood together with Mummy and Daddy by your sides. We are not ready to let go quite yet.




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Sydney in my twenties versus London in my thirties

The sun is out shining its rays onto the shimmering blue calm waves on Coogee. My girls are digging their heels into the soft white sand enjoying their first Aussie spring day at the beach. Our friend walks over to join our picnic from her home.

We see the delight in their eyes as they are getting spoiled silly with lollies and unlimited screen time. We see how amazed they are at the sheer size of outdoor space and family homes to explore. We almost regret our decision to not raise them closer to home where they can grow up with cousins and grandparents close by.

Life is comfortable here, when our friends and family get together it’s as though time hasn’t touched us, the banter is still there. Although there is occasionally interruption in the form of a kid’s scraped knee that needs to be kissed, then there are the pauses in conversations when the newly engaged couples exchange loving glances or sneak a reassuring arm squeeze.

I haven’t had good girly cocktail sessions or drawn out brunches with the girls for a while. I brought my girl out one evening with my girlfriends and she was stoked about being a big girl allowed her own strawberry calpis mocktail. It’s like that scene in SATC when Lily is colouring at one of their weekend brunches and the ladies changed their chat to how the men in their lives ‘colour’.

I am surprised that I do not miss those days of dolling up. Even carrying my LV purse out to town that evening felt foreign to my trusty Kate Spade. I cannot fit into the conversations here as my friends speak of travel plans to Japan, Bali or Fiji. I know in my heart I cannot come this far out to join them in those escapades. And when we talk about children there is divide between those who have children versus those who don’t yet. The ideals versus the reality and the subtle judging that goes on. I almost feel like choosing Europe over Australasia has made me snootier, with anecdotes of my toddler singing French and Spanish songs not viewed as cute but rather pretentious. I no longer fit in.

Throughout my twenties I lived for my girlfriends. We sipped many a soy lattes and lychee martini’s whilst debating the pros and cons of our men and our budding careers. So much of our lives were unwritten as yet. We had the world at our feet and could walk any path we wanted. Love was always a possibility each night we went out.

Now I am a flat white and ballet flats kinda mum. My girls are my world still only, I refer to my Number 1 and Number 2, not my girlfriends of my twenties. There are the mums I met through my daughters and I long to make a stronger connection with them. I also know there are relationships I’d have to work harder at to build at work, to forge greater networks for my career which I realise I have put on hold for the past year without intent.

Life moved on. I had the whirlwind romance with my Mr. Big. We broke up, made up and then married before he left me to move to London. My life phase now is SATC the movie the sequel where I cheat on bags with furniture. Or even perhaps I am not actually Carrie, I have really always been Charlotte with my Prince Charming to be surrounded by pretty princesses with a bra less nanny on her way soon. The picture of our family is complete.

When I leave Sydney this time, we begin our lives in our forever home. A Victorian four bedroom terrace in South West London surburbia. The set wrapped up with the four women moving up and away from New York anyway. We were and are the same women who fiercely love and protect each other through heartbreak and through life’s failures and successes. But though we want to be there for each other, the sisterhood gives way to Motherhood. Life isn’t as difficult as it used to be, or rather we are presented with different battles in the form of opinionated mother in laws and wilful toddlers. I look forward to creating a home in our terrace that is similar to the Brownstone in the movie ‘The Intern’. One that I stand in front of each day I come home knowing that behind the shutters in the sash window is my happy family and where my friends and theirs are always welcome to share in the joy and warmth.




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Two more months

Blink and it’s been two months since the last post. One month of pure sightseeing Tuscany and London. Another of just crazy organising life admin. And in that time, my number two learnt how to clap, how to wave, how to flip pages in a book and how to kiss. She now also drinks from a straw and knows how to call for each of us in the family. She crawls around the flat very confidently looking for me. I will miss the pitter patter of tiny palms on the floor one day I know as she follows her daddy around the flat.

It’s hard to imagine that she is two months away from turning one. Two months away from me no longer obsessing over the salt content, honey or breast milk. Two more months before our lives change to me going back to work and they go into full time nursery. I will miss the play date mums. I will miss the playgrounds and the buggy pushing walks.

Miss Three has had a great time learning tennis, the world map and flags this summer. She climbs like a monkey and now is so much more confident in her physical abilities as well as speaking publicly. I love her confidence in life having worried incessantly about her shyness over her two year old stage. She didn’t even so much as flinch as she got her pre-school booster shot even though she confirms to me that it hurt afterwards.

I loved having been an integral part of my two daughters’ growth this past summer although I will admit that the last month I have lost the will to be a good mum and haven’t read as much or bothered to think up exciting new things for them to do. Lots of planning ahead as I research schools and think up life admin things that must imminently get sorted before I head back to full time work.

I will miss this. My last two months of being a SAHM forever. My babies have grown up and the grey clouds have lifted. All my worries are different now. My jigsaw puzzle on what my future would be like is complete. I am proud of my big clever and brave girl. I am also smitten with my cheeky little one who I think will always be a mummy’s girl.

This is enough. My cup runneth over. Two more months of this, and I will fill it with kisses and cuddles I promise.



















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One month full time SAHM with two

This June I set myself a challenge to see if I could have the two children with me full time. No childcare. No holidays. Just us three for five days a week and then with Daddy on the weekends.

It was hard I won’t lie. I worried about the toddler. She challenges me more and more each day with her defiance, her sass and her acting out due to her need for attention. I can not contain her and often this month I have felt like a failure of a Mum. I sometimes do wonder if I have a good grasp at all on what to do with her. Twice this month I have gotten so frustrated with her that I have tried to make her feel bad over what little selfish thing she had done to upset me. Petty of me, because of course she doesn’t understand how when I am tired or sick I can’t play with her anymore. She just demands it regardless of any circumstance. I need to accept that I am to be her everything when she is on my watch. Other days I teeter between using kind language to persuade her to concede versus using threats of cancelling treats or activities and I feel like a crazy lady when her antics escalate to all sorts of cray to drive me up the wall.

Last week alone on Monday, she defied me and opened a gate at a pub which had a sign to say Do not Enter which I had read to her and then lied to say Peter Rabbit was responsible. On Tuesday, she got bored in Mandarin class and decided to walk out to play and when I dragged her back into class she hit her baby sister on her rage. Wednesday she was lovely until I tried to explain to her it may be nice to lend some toys to a visiting friend whose little boy had lost all his toys in Hurricane Irma and she kept shouting he could have none. Thursday she insisted on jumping into her sister’s cot after I had out her down for the night resulting in of course her waking her sister up. Is this all just attention seeking behaviour? Is it normal Three year old behaviour can anyone confirm to me? I miss my sweet little two year old now. She may have tantrumed then but she was never as naughty or mean as she is now.

It wasn’t all hard though. It has been a lovely hot June and so the girls have enjoyed playgrounds, play dates, wetlands, picnics galore, even caught the changing of the guards and visited two museums.

Picnics make it so much easier as eating al fresco means very little cleaning up. It also means easy to little cooking. I’ve been boiling some easy finger veg and find boiled eggs make very easy BLW picnic food. Otherwise, a bit of sliced cheese or poached chicken is always welcome protein. Fruit is also at their best this season making easy and healthy puddings for these picnics.




Eating at home required lots of easy meals. I find myself buying pre-prepped veg quite a lot so that often I only need to blanch them in boiling water and serve up with easy oven or slow cooked protein options.



These were Asian meals, premade and frozen dumplings, batch made stock, one pot rice cooker steamed miso cod and sous vide bulgogi beef with Korean rice cakes, udon or fried rice have been easy crowd pleasers.




On the western meals front, if it isn’t pasta with leftover roast, then I’ve opted to buy ready meals or premarinated meats such as tortillas, pies, lamb kebabs, chicken goujons or breaded fish are also generally easy toddler meals.

That’s all done and dusted now. June’s taster of being a full time SAHM. The flat isn’t as clean as I’d like. The children weren’t always as well turned out as i would have liked. But the important thing is that we are all loving and growing together. I just need to mother on and keep my eye on the prize.




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