Category Archives: Thoughts

The Wait

To sleep or not to sleep – how is this an actual question?

Well, if I go to bed, the baby might wake up before I actually enter REM sleep or worse, just as I am about to fall asleep. I will then have to drag my grumpy butt off the bed to the cot, put her back to sleep then drag myself back to the bed.

If I don’t go to bed, there is no telling what time she will wake up and I could be sitting here for hours before I drag my grumpy tired butt off to the cot when she finally wakes up.

On the other hand, if I “go” to bed and perhaps make enough noise to wake the baby up, then I won’t be grumpy or tired and can go to bed after she goes back to sleep! Now the decision is, should I do that now or later and will that work?

Wait, did they say never to wake a sleeping baby? Or was it a sleeping bear?…

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Birth-Day

Call me slow but only when I gave birth to my first child that I realised that a “birthday” literally meant the day a baby is born.

I mean, I had always associated birthdays with fun, cakes, family and laughs (I am a lucky kid). Now it was associated with hospitals, nurses, doctors, uncertainty, a whole range of emotions from an underlying fear, worry, to excitement, joy and immense love paired with the knowledge that there was so much out of my control on that day.

I always wondered how my parents could remember the time of my birth. After I experienced it, I realised, who could forget…

I hope that I will always remember the emotions my parents went through on my birthday and thank them for never popping the birthday bubble by telling me that day was possibly one of the scariest yet most joyful day of their lives.

Thanks mom and dad, I now understand the change I had wrought in your lives – the worry and the joys. Thanks for letting me grow while always being there to support and guide me probably while wishing time would stand still and that I wouldn’t grow up so fast.

My baby isn’t even 1 yet and I already feel this way.

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Turning 30.

30. Are you ready?

I think the answer most of us will give is: No! (Perhaps this would be the same answer at every birthday after 21 but most definitely when we turn 30!)

Maybe because we felt that the 20s were our best years and now they are over. But from personal experience, I think there’s nothing to be afraid of but so much to look forward to!:

  • In our 20s we may have still been searching for ourselves but now we are more comfortable in our own skin;
  • In our 20s we may still be searching for a partner, but now we have found one or are clearer on the qualities we value in a partner;
  • In our 20s we probably cared more for ourselves instead of connecting with our parents, in our 30s we are able to speak to them more as adults;
  • In our 20s we probably started our careers, but in our 30s we realise what is important to us. Perhaps a hidden passion, talent or simply a change of focus;
  • In our 30s we start looking deeper into relationships, ourselves, those around us and start focusing on quality instead of quantity. We start planning / looking ahead while being introspective a little more. It’s not the end of our best years, but the start of them!

Perhaps it is the fact that we are “leaving our twenties behind” and so blatantly moving on to the next decade of our lives that causes a jolt in the form of reflection, review or even denial and disappointment at what we have and have not achieved. This probably happens every 10 years as we age another decade. But think about this…

Babies have no idea what a birthday is, or a cake, or presents or what the point of a ‘party’ is. So the birthday is more of a milestone celebration for the parents and surrounding family, a chance for everyone to get together and celebrate the joys (and exhaustion) of having a little one in the family.

Most children lucky enough to have their birthdays celebrated adore birthdays. Games. Friends. Family. Cake. Food. Fun. Essentially, being the center of attention showered with lots of love and presents.

Teenagers usually like to spend their birthdays with their friends and to do something special on that day. Usually involving going out for dinner, drinks (if they are of age) and if they are in a relationship, time with the special one.

To parents, birthdays is the day our child was born!

I have heard the sadness in my 65 year old father’s voice when he talks about things he is no longer able to do or the pains that he is having. I have seen it first hand, when he had to ask for help as he is not able to see as well as he used to. I feel older myself with every new strand of white hair and aches in places that never used to ache. No matter how much we try to delay it, our physical form ages.

But we can still try our best to cherish how every birthday feels different and it’s not about the number but about how we choose to spend our time.

Embrace life, embrace aging. I’m ready for 30, are you?

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Facebook: The hidden messages

I’ve recently been on Facebook and I sometimes feel there are hidden messages behind status updates…

What you see:
xxx is very upset

What they don’t say:
xxx is very upset and really hopes someone can ask me why and show some concern because I’m really down but can’t seem to find someone around me to talk to and even if I could, I need the care and concern of as many of my 453 friends as I can get because this is really big, at least to me, right now.

What you see:
xxx is annoyed that some people never get it

What they don’t say:
xxx is annoyed that some people never get it. That somebody is someone who is also on facebook and hopefully that person sees it and realises that this post is referring to them. They probably won’t because they just never get it and I can’t give it to them straight to ensure they get it. Like this comment people! Comfort in solidarity!

what you see:
xxx is happy being single

what they don’t say:
xxx is happy being single but is waiting to find that someone to love her for who she is!! Any single guys who may possibly be interested on her friends list, take the hint and drop her a message now!

2 Years Later…

Bad news: My last post was 2 years ago.
Good news: The internet / WordPress stores everything (as long as you remember your password or can retrieve it).
Realisation: The world moves on, my blog hadn’t…

So I have (probably) 10 minutes to write this. As you may be able to tell from this post, if not the following posts, my situation has changed a little. The good thing is, I don’t procrastinate as much! I guess, when you have less time, you become more purposeful even though you may be crazy tired.

I have a few things to get off my chest in upcoming posts. They deviate from the ‘dreams’ side of things but fall firmly into the ‘thoughts’ bucket.

  1. Marriage, Love and Relationship
  2. Grandparents
  3. Newborn Babies
  4. Keeping the Baby alive
  5. Facebook messages

P/S: In a similar vein, I have and will continue to upload more special photos to my photos page. Check it out if you’re interested!

Perseverance and Purpose

I sat down to draft a blog post at 9:30pm. It is now 10:10pm. I have just written my first sentence.

40 minutes were spent browsing other blogs, comprehending, appreciating, empathising and most importantly respecting their self-discipline in continuing to update their blog regularly, for building up a growing readership, for having their thoughts published and read by people all around the world.

This is week 3 of me trying to build this blog into my weekly habits and already I’m feeling slightly winded. I was thinking about this before I restarted my blog efforts – what is the purpose of my blog? This question is reinforced when I browse blogs. Those that catch my attention are either about 1 topic, about 1 person’s unique situation and thus perspective on things, pictures or words that make me laugh or simply appreciate life.

What is my blog about? That was one of the questions I was supposed to think about before starting it and I thought I got it figured out. It would be about crazy stories pickled with amusing stories from my daily life. Right now it just feels like my rants and rambles.

Rants and rambles are plentiful enough on the internet but while they are passionately practiced by many budding writers, there are few who do it well and even less who get to their goal of publishing a book or becoming a professional writer. I don’t have the goal of publishing a book yet, but I do want to get better and more purposeful at writing.

So perhaps I have just reinstated the purpose of my blog. Worldwide recognition or not, pictures or not, wordy boring posts or not (hopefully not), I’m going to become more purposeful at writing one crazy story at a time.

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Navigating the Crossroads

It's not always a straight road

It’s not always a straight road

Just like it’s easier reading books, blogs and appreciating art that some one else has created; it’s easier leaving life up to fate, destiny, a higher power or even friends and family to direct and just living a life others think is best for us.

The difficult bit is writing the story, crafting the blog post and making life yours to live. The life people say we only live once – it doesn’t take long for us to figure out that saying is true.

I’m not saying that we should curtail YouTube, delete all the blogs we are following, never read another book or ignore our friends and families and stubbornly stick to what we think is right; because if you’re reading and comprehending this (i.e. not a bot), then you most likely are human and sticking to what you think is right all the time doesn’t make it right.

It’s not even about creating the big things; though I’m not dissuading you from designing and building a new skyscraper if you are so inclined. It’s simply navigating the crossroads, which as vague as it sounds, happens more often than you think. Too often I see people asking others for advice and in the end making a decision that is the “popular” one. Others just leave the decision and their goals to the future and live in the comfort of the moment. Have you heard the saying “Not making a decision is a decision in itself”?

Decision making skills are naively construed as a straightforward skill we gain throughout our life. I think it is much more than that. As a child, decisions are made for us, everyday, and we try to break those decisions and rules every chance we get by throwing a tantrum or asking “but why?”. Our parents take us places, teach us things, tell us what we can and cannot have, who they think is a bad influence, what they think we should study or potential careers they think would be interesting, citing experience and wisdom to support their advice or directives.

When we move into our teens, as much as we try to assert our independence and rebel, most of the time we just want to live in the moment and enjoy hanging out with friends, living in the comfort of the routine modern society provides. We search for what’s important – the latest trends, being popular, having friends, school results and throughout this time, our interactions and responses start forming a basis for our values.

In our 20s is when things get exciting. Hindsight and aging forces us to face the international truth that somehow wisdom does convert to slightly better decisions and even if our elders are not always right, it is helpful to get their point of view. The smaller decisions we make in our 20s about which friends we want to keep, how many parties we want to attend, whether we will take the first graduate job we get helps us become more self aware. We start to examine the labels we use on ourselves and reinvent or reinforce what we know of ourselves. What does all this have to do with making decisions? More than you think.

To navigate the crossroads we need to be confident in ourselves. Confident, not arrogant; realistic not idealistic and self aware not selfless. We can’t make decisions based on what is best for others, we can’t choose based on what most people think we would or should do, we can’t wait for fate and destiny to do what they will because then at the end of the day, we lose ourselves and the idea of our own ‘free will’. If we stayed as we were as teenagers, choosing something because it’s the opposite of what our parents say or because it’s what your friends would do then we would never know what life would be like if we took charge of it.

The higher powers not within our control will do what they will, people will think what they want of you (some may be truer than others), some will project their lost dreams and hopes onto your situation – kind advice may not be so kind because it prevents you from looking within and around yourself and picking the road you want to tread.

So examine the facts, speak to people you trust to gain insights and recommendations, to bounce ideas off, to ensure you’ve considered the situation well and not to judge; understand who you are and what you want, listen to your intuition or your gut. You are where all these things intersect. You are at the crossroads. Get the best perspective you can, make the best decision you can make and then make the most of that decision and live life brilliantly.

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January 2015

Happy New Year

I hope you had a great start to the year and are looking forward to an atrociously adventurous, particularly productive year and to 365 days of creating fantastically fond memories with those you love. May this year bring great things your way!

I’ve taken quite a long hiatus from blogging. I always knew time flies but the evidence really smacks me in the face when I can’t remember my WordPress password and when I finally log in, seeing a whole new WordPress interface and that the date under my last post says “2 years ago”. Oh dear.

After getting used to the new interface (it’s very blue), I see the list of bloggers I follow and I get pretty excited! My heart skips a beat and I can feel a slight adrenaline pumping through my veins with thoughts like “I wonder what they’ve been up to” and “There’s going to be so much new content I can read and have fun with!” It’s definitely time for me to get back into this blogging sphere.

The internet is a huge space and I guess we all find our little pockets where we are able to express ourselves and share stories with those we know only through their writing or drawings, who live miles / kilometers away from us, and whom we may never ever meet. But it’s amazing that these people and their stories are one of the main reasons I’m excited about getting back into the gossip (aka ‘gos’ in teen language). Never too old to get with it.

Reading old posts really brings you back in time. You should try it sometime, if you haven’t already. Sure, you may question “Why the heck would I write something like that?”, “I don’t get it, why would anyone read this boring drivel!” or even, “This couldn’t have been something I wrote!” but the truth is, WordPress doesn’t lie and no one would hack into your account to post random twaddle to get you all tripped up in the rare instance that you finally get off your bum and try to log into wordpress (after multiple attempts) for the first time in eons.

So long story short; or TLDR as current internet acronyms go, I’m back and I can’t wait to catch up on all the amazing stuff I’ve missed. See you around fellow bloggers!

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A Christmas Bug

There once was a Christmas bug
Who flew around all summer
Not a care in the world, gay as could be
Then came one hot sunny day it hit a wall
“Oh dear could this be, it has happened to so many before me!”
He got flipped around and odd as can be
Was left vulnerably exposing his belly so bright and green

Tried as he might but woe was he
He could not get back on his little feet
The world rooted for him “Don’t give up mister bug”
As the sun broke the clouds
And heated the hot ground
He yielded his last breath
Exhaustion finally took him

What could he be thinking
Does he know what went wrong
Where does his life force go?
Does anyone know?

Tis was the story of a Christmas bug
Big and round and green and brown
The valiant fight few people see.

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Magpies – The Poultry Avengers

I might be over thinking this but, here I go anyway:

It was time for the weekly groceries refill and I was on my way home on foot, having missed the hourly bus and worried about drinking sour milk if I stayed to wait 30 minutes in the hot sun. I was prepared for this, or so I thought…

Within 15 minutes of feeling like a donkey laden with bags of groceries from the shops on each shoulder trodding away, I was counting down to the the sweet relief of sitting on my bum. It wasn’t easy, nor was it a short road home. I bumped into a friend mid-way and reluctantly paused to say hi while my eyes screamed for help. He didn’t take the hint, a wise choice.

Determined no-one could help me but myself, I focused on the road that led home. I sang to the tunes playing from my iPod, trying to lift my own spirits and took a usual turn to duck between the trees when suddenly something smacked me in the side of the head.

 

What the F?!

I turned in the direction it should have landed and saw a big black bird swooping back up into the trees. I should have known… a Magpie.

Oddly, all this time, my feet kept carrying me forward, away from the crazy bird, towards home and safety; while my head spun a little. The area where I got hit was still throbbing as if a turkey leg had struck me in the back of my head. If I was bleeding, my body took no note of it; my legs were too tired and my shoulders hurt from the bag handles.

I tried to maneuver my sore arm to my head. I was pretty sure the beak didn’t hit me and my hand came away clean.

 

Then it struck me – that’s a rude bird! To hit someone when they’re down and weak!

I’m sure it thought I was a threat walking  ‘too close’ to its nest or something but seriously, my hands weren’t even mobile enough to move; needless to say climb up a stupid tree just to attack its nest.
I actually have better things to do, really, I do.

If I were hit by a person, I could at least confront them and find out why they decided to pick on me. It wasn’t fair to just smack and fly! You can’t just hit someone for no reason and get away with it! But it seems the Magpie could. Even if my arms had more feeling in them, that big bird with its sharp beak and a thirst for attacking random passer-bys, sent my courage running and I decided, rightly, fleeing would be the best decision there.

My arms would be no protection in this situation.

 

Sweaty, exhausted and with a throb in the side of my head, I finally arrived at my doorstep and unpacked the chicken thighs I had purchased.

Perhaps for all the chicken we’ve eaten, the Magpie was just exacting poultry’s vengeance on the human race – or on me in this case.

 

That still doesn’t make the pain go away…

nor the feeling of being bested by a bird.

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