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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