little pieces

day in, day out..wondering what to cook, what to put on the table. such a tedious process. takes away all the passion i had for cooking. cooking under the pressure to please is quite exhausting. i'm not the type to conform, to do what others do, to live the life of a billion other housewives. i'll wilt.

8yo likes to talk before she closes her eyes for the night. whilst i'm nagging her to keep quiet and go to sleep, she'll tell me little pieces of story from here and there. i'm such a bad mother. she's sharing with me a part of her day and i'm reminding her that it's past bedtime and that she'll feel sleepy tomorrow if she doesn't get enough sleep. motherhood - always torn between what's correct and what's best. next time, i'll have to remind myself to shut up and listen to her precious little stories.

6yo walks and talks (if not scream) in his sleep. must be heriditary. i'm famous for my midnight escape attempts too. have to check everynight that the doors to the balconies are locked. visualising his little body falling 25 stories down freezes me with fear sometimes, yet i cannot stop my mind from conjuring up those gruesome images. blame it on my over-active imagination.

i've always thought i never learned the word 'independent' despite all those years spent away from the family. my days alone didn't make me stronger or tougher, as did those other children in similar circumstances. but now, after all those years, i realise it made me into a very individual person, without my even realising so. a person who can't stand to conform. a person who needs her space. a person who can't stand to be one of the herd of sheep. or is it just old age and eccentricity?

no, don't answer that.