Advise For My Growing Boys

Was inspired by an Instagram reel I watched while putting the boys to bed. Wise words from an elderly lady whose boys had already grown up. It got me thinking, so I decided to write a list of my own and sent it to the family chat late last night. Keeping it here for posterity and future reference.

Boys, as you grow up, here are a few things 

I want you to know and remember: 

1. Don’t confuse attention with respect. 

Anyone can laugh, cheer you on, and think you’re cool… even when you're doing stupid things. That doesn’t mean they respect you. Real respect comes from your character, your choices, and how you treat people, especially when nobody is watching.

2. Choose your friends wisely. 

The people you spend the most time with will shape who you become, whether you realise it or not. Choose friends who bring out the best in you. Not people who make you feel small, pressure you to be someone you’re not, or make bad choices seem normal.

3. Always have each other’s back. 

You’re brothers. God gave you to each other. So prioritise your relationship. Keep your friendship. Look out for each other, stand up for each other, and be there for each other. That doesn’t mean just blindly taking each other’s side, especially when one of you is wrong. Sometimes having your brother’s back means telling him the truth in love, too. But whatever happens, never let the world come between you.

4. You never have to prove that you’re tough. 

You don’t have to fight because someone challenged you. You don’t have to do something dangerous because someone dared you. And you don’t have to stay in a bad situation just to save face. Walking away isn’t weakness. Very often, it means you were the smartest person in the room.

5. Remember that the internet has a very long memory. 

The joke. The comment. The photo. The message. The thing you post because it’s funny or because everyone else is doing it. One day, a future employer, mentor, partner, or even your own children may see it. Don’t put something online that the future version of you will wish you hadn’t. 

6. If you’re ever in trouble, call us. 

Even if you’re embarrassed. Even if you think you messed up. Even if it’s 3am. Call us. Nobody’s perfect, and you will make mistakes growing up. Everybody does. What matters is that you learn from them. Learn to make better decisions, know when to walk away, know who deserves your friendship, and most importantly, know when to ask for help. 

Never feel like you have to figure everything out alone. 

Papa and Mommy will always be there for you. Always.

The Days Are Long, The Years Are Short

Early this morning, just as sunlight was peeking out beneath the bedroom curtains, I woke to the sound of whispers and sobs. Groggy from sleep, I lifted my head, turned my ears to the sound and listened quietly. I heard Ethan sniffle as he asked The Husband, "Where is Mommy?"

The whisperings continued, and little while later, I felt my secondborn crawl his way past The Husband and stuff himself under the covers between us. Hugging me tightly, he gripped on to me like his life depended on it. I turned to The Husband. Confused. "Cho ni?" I asked, meaning, "What's the matter?" in Teochew. "He thought you died," The Husband explained in whisper. 

😳 Oh. 😔

So there we lay in the semi-darkness, JJ and I.
Him calling out to me every once in a while,
even though I was literally right there in his arms.

"Mommy?"

"Mmm..."

"Mommy."

"Yes?"

"Mommyyyy..."

"I'm here..."

He hugged and he snuggled, and he sniffled between sobs. He played with my hair, combing it over and over, somehow finding comfort in the feeling of the strands running through his fingers. He hadn't done that in a long while. But he used to... when he was little. 

And in that moment, it all came back to me. The memories.

Those long nights of feeling trapped under the weight of motherhood – motherhood dressed up as a little boy in a tiny body, curled up beside me or tiarap-ed on top of me, with tiny hands that brushed my hair, held my face, or pinched my tummy, and wouldn’t let go until sleep finally came for him.

How true the saying:

The days are long, but the years are short. 

In the thick of life with little ones, when the boys were young and needy, so very small and oh-so-clingy, I thought the days would never end. Bedtimes never came soon enough. And while we didn’t exactly rush through them, I must admit, that by nightfall, I was often so peopled out and touched out that the thought of clingy bedtimes often felt like... a lot.

It's funny how I now look back on

those difficult days with fondness. 

Oh, how perspective changes

with the passing of time. 

Yet now, even with new eyes,

it's impossible turning back the clock. 😔

So, back to the story at hand... We snuggled until morning came too soon, suspended in that quiet abyss between wake and sleep. I didn't want that moment to end. I hugged him, kissed his teary cheeks and breathed in his familiar scent, now tinged with the faint musk of pre-teen boyhood.

That one hour with him in my arms, sniffling on and off, brought me right back to the days when comforting a clingy child once felt like a chore. Only today, it felt like the greatest blessing of my life. How perception shifts when you lose what you once had. Now, I miss that closeness I had with my boys more than ever. And it feels a little sad that it took a bad dream for me to get a taste of it again. 😔

A Hug And A Kiss!

Although I was blessed with two boys, my mother–son routines and expressions of love with each of them are different.

Back when I was the only one doing morning runs, I would drop Ethan off at class, kneel down on one knee and spread my arms wide open, and he would run into my arms for one last big hug and a quick peck on the lips. (It started when he was 2y3m.) We would both chant in unison, “A huggg… and a kiss!” (The “hug” was long-drawn, but the “kiss” was staccato. Haha.) Every. Single. Schooling. Morning.

Sadly, Cancer and Covid stole this routine from me. 😞

They say as mothers, we remember all the firsts but never the lasts. But I remember this last. It was 3 September 2019 – the day I started chemo. That was the last time Ethan and I said goodbye our special way. ❤️‍🩹

Chemo lasted until 17 December 2019, but immunotherapy continued until 25 August 2020. By then, we were in the thick of MCO and the boys were at home doing Zoom school. No goodbyes necessary. And even after they went back to school, they had masks on. So, no kisses either.

Before we knew it, two years had passed. 

And somewhere in that time, Ethan grew up. 🥲

Hugs were still okay, still enjoyed… but pecks on the lips, no matter how quick, felt like too much. He also used to hold onto my cheeks and smoosh his face into mine, but after Covid, something shifted. Smooshing felt germy. And my baby wasn’t a baby anymore. Somehow, daytime smooshing was no longer a thing, and nighttime cuddles were rushed cos of school the next day.

But I'm not blogging sadness today; it's joy.

Because today, we had an interaction

 that took me by surprise. 

Ethan was playing Rivals online with his buddy from school when he asked me to make him Milo. I did, and after placing his mug next to him, I leaned forward to look at his screen. To my surprise, he gave me a peck on the cheek, flashed me the biggest smile, and then turned back to his screen to continue gaming. 

That small display of affection may have meant nothing to him. But it meant the world to me and my mommy heart skipped a thousand beats. I can't even remember the last time he did that!

I was instantly brought back to a beautiful past 

my mind had forgotten even existed,
but my heart hadn’t. 🩵

Sure, it wasn’t the same hug-and-kiss we used to chant. But didn’t need to be. It was quieter. More fleeting. Almost accidental, perhaps? But in that small, carefree peck on my cheek, I felt the same love. Just older, more contained, and somehow... the same, but evolved.

Yes, it's clear, my baby has grown. But I'll continue to appreciate and accept every expression of love he offers me, in whatever shape or form it appears, no matter how frequent or fleeting.

Baby Best Friend

Ethan made my night. He made my day. My week. My month. Or even perhaps my year! We were going through bedtime. Just lying in each other arms, chatting about his day in the semi-darkness of the room. When suddenly, he turned his face to mine and gave me a tight hug.

“You’re my best friend,” he said.

“You’re mine!” I replied.

And then he hugged me tighter, snuggled in deeper, and slept.

Philippians 1:21

There are times when pain is not physical. There are no bruises or bleeding. No abscesses or wounds to be cleaned. Nothing to be plastered or stitched up. No, it's invisible. It is pain that lives in heart and festers the soul. 

This form of suffering doesn't show up in scans. It's not measured in millilitres or temperature, or tracked through charts. It's the slow erosion of the will to endure. It's the grief that calcifies in the chest. It's the hopelessness that makes every breath feel like a burden.

For those of us who've been there – truly been there – death begins to look less like a thief in the night, and more like a gentle hand, extended in silence. Not cruel, but kind. Not cold, but calm. Because sometimes, death is not the enemy. It is release; it is mercy.


How much agony can a heart carry before it caves? I don't know. Perhaps, I will never know. But this I do know. Paul was right. 

----------

For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.

– Philippians 1:21

You Say I Am, So I Become

A false accusation. 

Unfair. Unjust. Unwarranted.

With one careless sentence, 

you decided who I am and how I am 

– with “always,” “every” and “never.” 

So why bother fighting it? Nope, I'll leeeean into it. Because there’s no point correcting this skewed version of me you’ve already committed to. Your mind is made up, and your judgment is louder than the truth. Decision made; conclusion set. So yes, I'll make it easier for both of us. I’ll wear the label you stuck on me. 

I am who you say I am.

After all, if I’m going to be punished for the crime, 

I might as well stop pretending I’m innocent. 🤷‍♀️

Random Questions On A Random Day

Pam Song: Actually, what is your ideal house?

The Husband: Nah… *points at me* You. It’s a person. Pam Song.

🤭

Miss Hong Kong Feet

…seated 1 o’clock in front of me in church with her shoes off. 🥴🦶😮‍💨 Uh oh. Looks like it’s going to be one looooong Saturday Evening Service today. God, help me! 😫😷