I am an unapologetic mama bear to my babies. At any sign of injustice or untruth, I will feel the roar rising inside me. From the boy throwing sand at my child, to the adult who took a toy from my child in plain sight, to educators and leaders who turn a blind eye, I am fearless. I know how to cut through the bullshit with quiet, surgical precision and call things as they are. And I believe I've taught my own babies to do the same. To show courage, standing up not just for themselves, and also for others. For what is right... for what is true. But the reality is, people let us down. They tell me about the friend who left them to carry all the work... of the teacher who silenced their voice... of the circle that chose to exclude. I want to roar for them at the top of my voice.  But this time, I cannot. Because my children have their own voices now. Voices they are learning to use... in their own way... in their own time. So now, I carry the heaviness of all my silent mama ...

The clock of life keeps ticking. Quiet announcements from friends and peers appear from time to time about the passing of fathers, mothers, grandparents, uncles, aunts. I note the passing of each member of that generation as it comes. In the wise words of Mufasa, this is simply the circle of life. Earlier this week, I saw a post of one of a very close friend from my youth, sharing the news of her father’s passing. And the emotions hit me like a wave. Tears. Sadness. Of course, the depth of my own feelings was nothing compared to the ocean of grief my dear friend must be going through. To be honest, I was not close to her father and did not know him well. So at first, I puzzled over why the news struck me so deeply. I later surmised that this news hit much closer to home because of the link to my childhood I shared with this friend. I'm aware of life's impermanence, the edges of time we are all bound to, and what it means for my own parents. But moments like this bring the inevi...

"What would you like to do for Mother's Day?" hubby asked. Easy. Just us four. A lazy afternoon at the park. Sausages sizzling on the BBQ, kids running around, and me with a cup of tea that I might actually get to drink while it's still hot. As the years inch by, my babies have outgrown the playground. But they still love a good romp and game, inventing new ways to nearly knock each other out with a ball. Leaning back in my camp chair, I slowly sip my tea and watch them toss a ball back and forth. They’re grinning, laughing, and testing out increasingly ridiculous ways to throw the ball. It’s part dodgeball, part interpretive dance. This is my slice of joy I savour today. In a few short years, I don’t know if they’ll still play like this. But for now, just like this, they can still be my babies for a little while longer.

In the years to come, long after my nearest and dearest are gone, I imagine I’ll still make a pilgrimage to my little hometown in the Land Below the Wind, just to indulge in a plate of one of these lovelies: |  Tuaran Mee | Beaufort Mee | Sandakan Mee | They say noodles represent long life. I'm quite content to live the average human lifespan, but if things are going well, I wouldn’t mind lingering a little longer before taking my final leave. So if a plate of noodles holds the secret elixir to to an extra moment or two, I’ll gladly eat up a bowl, especially if it’s one of the famous noodles from Tuaran, Beaufort, and Sandakan. There is nothing on this earth that tastes anything like them. Though knowing the many high calorie ingredients that go into each of these noodles, indulging in them regularly probably won’t lead to the sought after longevity. But having tasted them all, I can say this: my life feels more complete.

No matter how few times we have blinked the years away, the majestic sight of crisp, paper-thin, sugar-encrusted  roti tisu,  drizzled with sweetened condensed milk and towering over us, never ceases to amaze. | December 2017, 4 & 7 years old | July 2022, 8 & 11 years old | January 2025, 11 & 14 years old | What if we fast-forward a couple more years? Can the past be a reliable indicator of the future? Will Salim's roti tisu  still stand just as tall, still taste just as perfect? Or will we be simply reaching for the memory of what it tasted like before? Perhaps the taste is merely a vessel for a cherished moment with someone we love . Maybe that's what all comfort foods truly are. Who can say? One can always hope. One can always believe. Hope and believe in the masterful hands of the roti man  at Restoran Salim, in little Kota Kinabalu. Roti tisu . Then and now. Always and forever.

Today I finished reading the book 'Laurinda' by Alice Pung, which fourteen-year old Nathan recommended to me, from his English reading list last term. Afterwards I got up to throw the bunch of scrunched up tissues into the bin. The book was an easy read, but uneasy on the heart. Good stuff doesn't always have to feel good. Apart from the above-mentioned text, I've also enjoyed side-splitting funny, as well as deep philosophical discussions on other books on his list, including 'Animal Farm', 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy', 'The Martian' and 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. With my eleven-year old Grace, it has been just the best fun talking over our shared delights and exasperations over classic novel heroines like Anne Shirley, Elizabeth Bennett, Emma Woodhouse, Jane Eyre and the Dashwood sisters. ...On this side of the horizon, these are truly the best days.... Early last year, I turned the page of that last chapter of '...

. I acknowledge this long gap. . In the past several years, it has been becoming difficult to be completely open about about many things.  But like a mirror, the very same little people I taught to fly free, think for themselves and live fearlessly have reminded me to do the same for myself. These past few months, so many little things like listening to inspiring songs , revisiting favourite stage characters and reading new material had been chipping away at the dam I had erected around me over the past few years. In my fear of becoming an outcast, I silenced my voice and imprisoned myself, holding myself captive by the thoughts of others. Alone, I was most myself, most true. But the self that really mattered was the self that was visible, the self that could be shown to other people. Yet, I'd had to keep my true self apart, and there's only so much of yourself you can hide before you start to fall apart. (almagation of quotes from ' Laurinda ') So this year, I'm ...

During our regular bedtime chat this week, Grace and I were talking about plans for tomorrow and the rest of the week. Then seemingly out of nowhere my little girl suddenly burst out angrily...  "Sometimes I think Nathan has more fun than me!"   She started sobbing "When he's playing something fun, I feel sad when I can't join in!"   I knew it was not true that Grace is excluded from playing with Nathan. My two kids love playing together all the time, and my little girl absolutely adores her big brother as much as he dotes on her.  "Why do you say that? Did something happen today?" I prompted, trying to figure out where this was coming from.  "Well... not today, but one time! Like playing Star Wars!" "I thought you guys were playing Star Wars together yesterday? " I clarified.  "Okay... maybe not Star Wars... but other times... Like when he's playing Lego..."  "Can you tell me what happened?"   "I ...

It's been a fantastic decade! Ten years since  the arrival  of this dude... and the beginning of a  new era . Just look at the size of this guy.  He keeps waking up each morning bigger and taller (why on earth do we keep sending him to bed each night?). This boy is absolutely one of the smiliest people I ever knew (possibly barring my own dad , but this guys is definitely a serious contender for first place). I am seriously bursting at the seams with pride over my little man. I always have been I suppose. But lately, the credit has been well and truly well-earned on his own merit. It's still early days to tell if there is a Shakespeare, Einstein, Mozart or Da Vinci waiting in the wings. At this age, almost all possbilities are wide open. What does shine through is that unpretentious spirit... sincerity... sense of honour... milk of human kindness or whatever you want to call it. That's what shines through. Of course, I wholeheartedly recognise that every child deep ...