Stop and smell the roses

We were caught by surprise when she walked straight to the almost-green Poinsettia, bent down and kissed it. Speechless.

Lesson to learn from a 15 month old…

Be slow to speak

This post is a wake up call and reminder for myself. Firstly, I am sorry, daddy M and thank you for being there for me.

Recent pent-up work stress has caused a roller-coaster ride in my emotions. On several occasions, I have lost the ability to encounter conflict calmly and flew into a fit of rage over the smallest issue. It has affected my mental and physical state. It has definitely affected daddy M.

I could start a day in a joyful mood and before I knew it, things started to crash down on me like a wave and I would go under. Emotions welled up and my attitude headed south, words that came out of me cut like a knife. My tone turned from high-pitch to cruel tongue lashing, without thinking of the consequences. Even having S around could not stop me. She kept quiet as if she knew what’s happening and observed.

The aftermath: Drained. Regrets. Repented. Pretended that S had not heard and did not understand why mommy acted so strangely…Bad thoughts follow suit – “Bad wife, bad mom, bad daughter.”

You’ll probably think that I’m having a ‘rich people problem’. I’m not rich per se. But I have a husband, a daughter, a job and a God. Compared to the less fortunate or those who are striving to survive after a catastrophe, I am in a much better state. And if work is the root cause, there are always other jobs around.

I know all these. Perhaps you have been in my shoes before, perhaps not.

I sought God over and over.

Yesterday He subtly gave me an answer…

I was casually singing the “ABC” nursery rhyme to S (which she has watched a hundred times over Youtube):-

Me: A.B.C.D. E.F.__

S: G

Me:?? (maybe I heard wrongly)

Me: H.I.J.K.L.M.N.O.__

S: P

Me: !!!!

Me: Q.R.S.T.U.__

S: V

Me: (omg)

Me: W.X.Y. and__

S: Zee

Me: I did not teach her. I hardly sang the song to her. She only watched it from Youtube on weekends!

A voice within me: Be a role model. She learns from you. She sees, listens and mimics. All the hardship that you’re going through, I understand. Leave it to me. Be slow to speak and you will be slow to wrath. Enjoy your daughter. Enjoy your husband. Pick yourself up. Enjoy the journey. Be slow to speak. Be slow to speak. You’re complete in Christ.

I got it. I shall try to see and talk goodness. The Lord will fill me with whatever that I lack. As daddy M said: “Don’t count on your own effort.”

xoxo,

Ms condemnation free

Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus – Romans 8:1

Hidden gem

Our Monday leisurely afternoon PLAN– in a park, playing bubbles. Pierce Reservoir seemed like the nearest choice.

The park was peacefully quiet. No crowd. No joggers. Only a few lovers/couples sitting around (having affairs according to daddy M).

Picnic mat, checked. Camera, checked. Bubbles, checked. Snacks, checked. 

As bb S and I sat down, trying to open a bottle of bubbles, a MONKEY came out of nowhere behind S (and our bag)!

“AH!!!” was all I said and froze, while the monkey got closer and slowly towards the bag.

SNAP SNAP! Wake up SK! Protect your child! 

My delayed maternal instinct kicked in and I scooped S into my arms.

The monkey ROBBED a ziplock bag with a container and spoon in it. Haha! Gotcha monkey, the container is empty! It’s our feeding container!

Where was daddy M?  He was on the phone, about twenty steps away, back facing us and missed the ‘15-second’ happening.

We packed our bags and left.

No wonder the park was EMPTY because it’s a monkey land! And we thought we had found a hidden gem…

Let’s do impromptu outing next time!

Oriental pasta, anyone?

I am a firm believer, or rather, I WAS a firm believer of proper eating habits, ie no running around, no TV during meal times and vege is a must. S has a designated feeding chair where she is usually buckled up for feeding. It had worked well until past two weeks. She started to refuse solids- fish porridge, chicken porridge, rice with soup, macaroni soup, mee sua soup, fried bee hoon, fried rice.  Anything you can think of. Maximum three mouthful. It’s frustrating but I am not bowing down.

How about mee sua with tomatoe pasta sauce topped with slices of cheese!?

“Yes, please!”

“But, please turn on my favourite sing-along program FIRST.”

Morals of the story: 1) Be flexible and less anal; 2) It doesn’t matter what it takes, as long as it works; 3) A child will turn out well even if she watches TV during mealtimes and 4) It’s just a passing stage.

Feed me

 

How much would you pay for this plate of nasi lemak? My cousin thinks we can easily charge S$3.50-4.00. This is what we do whenever mom whips up something special at home- “guess how much”. I think S$4 is a steal for the flavour and generosity. Everything comes in ‘extra’ dosage. Extra prawns, extra ikan bilis, extra chilli, extra rice…

In the last three delicious weeks, our wide menu selection has covered Penang fried koey teow, assam fish curry, salted fish fried rice, herbal chicken, just to name a few. That’s my mom. She loves to feed us. Daddy M cringed when he realised that mom is leaving in a week’s time. Bye Bye yumilicious food, hi again  salad and plain noodle soup (SK diet plan).

Get a grip

I lost my cool today at work , over an unfair judgement. It was aggravated by the lack of sleep as I finished work at 2.30am last night. I left early to do some soul searching.

Still, there’s no excuse to lose my temper.  Giving vent to anger at work is inappropriate. Period.

I thought motherhood is able to help me see things in perspective and not rattled. Obviously not.

Again, I start to question the viability of my job, wondering if I’m in denial. Ex-colleagues who have left tell me that my company is one of the best place to work and they miss it. Perhaps culture and dynamics have somewhat changed…

I think I’ve done my best. Somehow it’s still not good enough. I could see the criticism as challenges to overcome, making my work more rewarding, or I could think that I’m a constant target.

I need wisdom.

Lunchbox envy

When I was young, I envied over friends who brought home-made lunch boxes to school, wishing that I had the same privilege because mom was working in a land far far away (aka Brunei). BUT during the two to three-week break when she was home, I would feel smug everyday in school because I got to join the lunch-box group and show off my more ‘superior’ lunch box. (Read: mom’s a good cook).

Fast forward 30 years. Deja-vu. My mom wakes up early every morning to pack me breakfast/lunch. I’m feeling smug (again).