Bookworm

"A room without books is like a body without a soul" ~ Cicero

My dearest E.,

You've developed into a regular little bookworm, just like your mother. As I write this, you're leafing through your hardcover Tinkerbell story book, talking to yourself, telling yourself the story I had told you over and over again. You tell a story with such earnest devotion, throwing yourself into Tinkerbell's character, intonating in your voice the high squeaks she is wont to make. 

You love your Glitter Books collection, a birthday present from Uncle James & Aunt Christine- every night, we read through the Little Fairy, Little Mermaid, Little Princess and Little Dolly together- we count the bluebells in the pictures, the fluffy blue and pink sheep, the little snowflakes falling across the meadows, the friendly frogs by the pond where the Little Fairy lost her magic wand. We lie in bed together, hair fanned out on our pillows like sunburst, as we rub noses and I tell you (again) the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Sometimes, you interrupt me, telling me what happened, and I can only smile with happiness, because you remember these tales with such vivid clarity.

You are a book-lover, a soul of wisdom blooming in your little mind and body. You marvel at my book collection- once day, my bountiful collection will be yours, and yours to keep... I cannot wait to pass them down to you and I know that you will enjoy them as much as I have. 

I am so proud of you, my little munchkin. You never see me watching you quietly as I do, when you read your books, and tell your stories to your toys. I smile, inside and outside, my heart aches a little bit, overflowing with the love I have for you.

Let the words nourish you, my sweet one. Let your imagination run wild in lands far beyond what we see. Be not afraid to dream.

Another year older

"Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday to you" ~ Traditional nursery song

My dearest E,

It's your birthday tomorrow- the 25th of October. I cannot believe it has been 3 years since you arrived. I'm amazed, just looking at you now. You're practically grown-up.

I've planned a little party for you, with your favourite cousins, Maya & Leia, and your favourite squeeze, Gavin, your Godpa's dearest son. Along with your grandparents, your Uncle James & Jerry, and Aunts Christine & Joanne. And all Mummy's and Daddy's closest friends- your Godma & Godpa, Aunts Shen, Eileen & June and Uncles Calvin, Paul & Eugene. A small party, to be sure- but what fun we'll have. And I'd rather have these people, as I'm sure you will, than any other people in the world.

Because they're family.

Happy Birthday, my princess.

Head full of thoughts

My dearest E.,

My head is full of thoughts, of things that I want to tell you. And I say to myself, I need to put all this down in writing so that you'll remember them. But I never have the time. My life is such a roller-coaster ride these days. I'm happy because I feel fulfilled. My work has picked up tremendously, resulting in later nights at the office. Longer days, away from you. It makes me sad, but it also makes me want to strive harder to become better at what I do, because it means a good life for you if I do better.

I'm no longer the young starry-eyed girl I used to be. I've become a career-driven woman, ambitious to a certain extent now that I've found happiness at the work place. I want to achieve so much more than I already have. I want to be made a partner of the firm I work in because that is the next natural goal for me. But to do that, I need to prove myself worthy- that I am not only intelligent and good at what I do, but that I also want to grow with this firm- and I do want to grow with this firm. It niggles at my heart and some days, it gets a little painful, knowing how much I love where I am, and the people I work with. Some days I can't believe I've found a place like this where I am completely stressed-out, but oh!- so completely happy, too. And my personal goals for achievement will lead us, our family, towards a better, more comfortable life. I know that. It'll just take some time.

Maybe I want to tell you I'm sorry. For sometimes not being there when you come home to our house. For not putting you to bed and singing you your bedtime songs. For only spending half an hour with you in the mornings before I rush off to the office. I'm sorry. But I've promised you, and I've kept my word- that my weekends are all yours. No work, no crazy rushing-around. Just pure, unadulterated, happy times with my baby. And what happy times they are!

You leave me breathless most times. You tire me out because you're just so active, you want to do so many things! I don't have the heart to say 'no' because I love you, because you deserve to be all that you want to be. What an individual you've become! You will be 3 years old next month, I can hardly believe it. Has a year almost flown by?

Your father and I have registered for you to begin your early education next year. A beautiful, spacious and airy school called Peter & Jane in Mutiara Damansara, a stone's throw away from our home. You've been there twice, and went into raptures about "my school, Mummy!" You were so happy. I know you'll be happy there. Next year, you will be in nursery for half a day. And I promised myself that I would be there your first week of school. Maybe I'll keep out of sight, maybe I won't. I'm sure you'll fare fine, like you always do, you brave, independent girl!

But this just means- you're growing up. No longer a baby. But I'd still like to think of you a being that, my little baby. You'll always be my baby. Even if you're 30 years old. Please don't grow up too quickly.

Unhappy

"If there must be trouble let it be in my day, that my child may have peace" ~ Thomas Paine

My dearest E.,

It is a beautiful, warm night. Or early morning, if you will. It is 3.15 a.m. and all I can think about is how you fill my life. May I tell you this, my sweet? I am unhappy. As unhappy as I've never been before. My worries and troubles- you are too young to understand them. Perhaps someday when you are older, I will tell you about them.

So I am unhappy.

But I thank God for you. In my unhappiness, there is a ray of light, a beacon of hope, and that is you. And in my unhappiness, I persevere and trudge along willingly, because there is you, and it is you that makes me complete.

If the oceans may tear us all apart, remember this: that you have a home with me. I love you. You are my heart. My life-blood.

I am unhappy. But I am rational. I am responsible.

Above all, I am strong in my love for you. That, alone, is enough to sustain me in this horrible journey I take. Forgive me for the things I do- because they are only for your good, your betterment in life.

In my unhappiness, you are the only thing that could ever be. You just are.

You leave me speechless

"Much silence makes a powerful noise" ~ African Proverb

My dearest E.,

Do the Heavens wonder why you leave me speechless, with my heart overflowing with untold love and joy? You silence me with your words, your powerful eyes, your beautiful nature. You silence me when you say things like, "I want some cultured milk, Mummy."

Or when you see me writhing in pain as I suffered from a stomach illness and diarrhoea a few days ago. "Mummy has tummy ache. Mummy go see doctor. OK?"

Or when you twist and turn in bed beside me in the middle of the night and I feel your little hand gently caressing my cheek when you whisper, "I love you, Mummy. Mummy, hug me pleeth." (You speak with a little lisp).

But most of all, I am speechless when you are simply there. And I know that you love me back.

Updates

"Have something to say, and say it as clearly as you can. That is the only secret" ~ Matthew Arnold

My dearest E.,

In the time I had last written in these pages, many wonderful things have happened.

1. Christmas, the New Year and Chinese New Year came and left with much fanfare, with much cherished time spent with family and friends.
2. I self-published my first book. Although I've only ordered 1 copy for my own (I'm not quite ready yet to unleash it to the general public), it's a wonderful thing to see your work in print. It's a piece of non-fiction work called "Along Came Emilie". No stars for guessing the source of my inspiration.
3. I received a considerable salary increment and a generous bonus. Alas, I've spent it all!- or have I? I've tucked away a tidy little nest-egg for my sweet little baby. And blew the rest on Coach and Louis Vuitton handbags....
4. We bought a new family car.
5. We went for a lovely holiday in the beautiful island of Langkawi. Sun, surf and sand, with lots of sleep and relaxation, in the company of friends, both old and new.
6. You learnt to speak, oh-so-wonderfully, with a widened vocabulary of words
7. I discovered Philip Pullman's "His Dark Materials" trilogy and found new heights of my love for books and reading
8. You discovered the magical world of princesses, fairies, unicorns and Strawberry Shortcake and I got the opportunity to re-visit my favourite ballets and fairy-tales
9. Your godma bought me a beautiful Tiffany & Co. ring for my birthday (which, incidentally is 2 weeks away, but she liked the thought of giving my gift to me earlier)
10. I fell in love with you all over again, every single day, more and more and more....

Baa Baa Black Sheep, how are you?

"Baa Baa Black Sheep, have you any wool? Yes, sir, yes, sir, three bags full!" ~ Traditional nursery rhyme

My dearest E.,

This morning, as I dressed to go to work, you played with the new pink hair band I had bought for you, the one with a little clip-on teddy bear decorated with shiny crystal bits. You placed it in your hair, grinned at me and said, "Nice, Mummy!" I chortled as I got dressed.

And then, as you stroked your teddy bear and put the hair band over its head, I heard you singing, "Baa Baa Black Sheep, how are you? Yes sir yes sir, woo woo woo...." I hid a smile and continued to watch you. And you continued to sing those words over and over again. Your father, who was also dressing for work, winked at me and we both shared a happy smile, watching our little daughter sing and ask a black sheep how it was.