Re.wording

My older one told me recently that some K-Pop songs were stuck in his head. Songs he’d heard at school.. catchy, full of words he didn’t even understand and yet he couldn’t stop (wanting to) sing them. At first, I told him, “Just stop thinking about it.” But then I caught myself. What else does he have to fill that space? Our home is often quiet (because the toddler’s napping). And when it isn’t, it’s chaos! Blippi, Baby Shark, random YouTube noise. There isn’t much else for his mind to reach for. It made me realise how easy it is to focus only on what we don’t want > the noise, the negativity, the influences we’d rather avoid without thinking about what we’re replacing them with. We tell our kids not to listen to certain songs, not to watch certain shows, not to say certain words… But are we filling their world with what we do want to take root? It’s the same for us, isn’t it? We tell ourselves not to worry, not to burn out, not to compare. But what do we feed our he...

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to take care of myself. You know how it is, finding balance as a work from home mum is seemingly impossible. It's definitely not going to be the same as that glorified stay at home mum-life that gets all the views on Instagram > pilates sessions, bubble baths, catchups with friends, pickleball... it's in the quiet, real-life kind of way that fits into the small cracks between work, motherhood, the constant to-do list, and the infamous mental load. Because honestly? Everything around me is screaming for my attention. And sometimes, I forget that I need attention too. The kids have been taking turns being sick. Week after week, like a never-ending relay race of viruses, sniffles, and restless nights. I might even be losing track of medicine dosages and who’s taken what meds. The big kid was sick again on Friday, food poisoning. Dad took him to the doctor that night, and he was prescribed antibiotics, which brought about a...

My big kid is six. Only six. And yet here I am, having conversations about brain rot, sex, pornography, and maybe the more subtle one, demons. I can’t believe I even have to explain why it’s not okay to be singing along to Soda Pop . These are heavy things for such a little heart. But the truth is, the world doesn’t wait for them to be ready. It barges in, loud and confident, through songs, YouTube shorts, and classroom chatter. And in the middle of it all, he’s trying to find where he fits. He’s the only kid in his class who isn’t going to SJKC. Seven out of ten of his classmates will be heading to the same school down the road next year. He’s the only one who isn’t 100% Chinese. He feels it, even if he can’t articulate it. That quiet awareness of being different. And so I ask myself, how do I help him navigate this? Because it’s not just about what he listens to or sings along with. It’s about belonging, identity, conviction, and the courage to stand firm when you’re the odd...

Last night, I sat down with one simple goal: to work on big kid’s Mission 7 worksheet (a themed activity from his weekly learning plan). But because I wanted to make it more connected, I decided to add in some Bahasa Malaysia words from a few worksheets I’d printed a while ago. Then I realised he didn’t have a good visual aid to learn colours in BM, so I thought I’d design a simple poster to go with it. It was around 8pm, the time I should have been getting him ready for bed. But I told myself it wouldn’t take long. Just a quick design. Except, while looking for inspiration on Pinterest, I came across so many cute educational prints. And then my brain went, “Hey, what if I make some little inspirational cards too?” Perfect for mornings when I don’t have the energy to write sticky notes for his snack box. Since I was already sending the colour poster to print, I figured I might as well design a few more helpful ones. Maybe even some motivational ones for myself. You can imagine how that...

“Mummy, this is gravy, not sauce.” My firstborn is a bit of a smarty pants. Sometimes it makes me laugh; sometimes it makes me pause. And sometimes, if I’m honest, it makes me worry. Because I wonder if that same sharp mind and quick tongue will make it hard for him to fit in, the way I sometimes didn’t. When your mind works at a hundred miles per hour and your heart beats just as fast, you see and feel the world differently. You catch the undercurrents others might miss. You sense tension before it spills over. You want to fix things, but you don’t always know how. And lately, I’ve found myself holding my breath more than I’d like to admit. The terrible news from Melaka. The stabbing in a school just minutes away from our home. I look at my boys and think, how do we keep them safe in a world like this? Not just safe from harm, but safe in heart. Safe in mind. Safe in spirit. How do you explain to a child that the world isn’t always kind, when you still want him to see it as good? ...

It was one of those mornings. His heavy, congested breathing the night before already told us what was coming. We’d agreed that he’d be staying home, and even prepped big brother that he’d have to be up earlier so dad could send him to school. The little one’s stuffy nose, the unmistakable heaviness of a small body fighting something off. Another day home from preschool. We go through this almost every other week. He’s not even two yet, but between preschool colds and the revolving door of viruses, it sometimes feels like we’re on a first-name basis with every strain making the rounds. So this morning, our usual rhythm fell apart before it even began. There was no rushing out the door, no quick tidy-up before diving into work. It feels like every time he starts settling back into his routine, another round of sniffles hits. Preschools, I’ve decided, are basically training grounds for immune systems and for parents learning to let go of control. When my kids get sick, my own rhythm...