tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-323532722024-03-07T11:38:21.300+08:00Tinki TalksPam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.comBlogger4693125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-25410323154603200452024-01-19T23:52:00.011+08:002024-01-19T23:58:45.981+08:00The Problem With Moving<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuv-QF784uLweS0A7VtTLDvbXJs8-jTi771QURk4zwZbNASgyw6wIpmOeTz9bB_lFhCM02tcTwhWRH6QDqdA0OP4TkX7Q_PEl4bjCbXPWwkWfiquLGu8MoE8IEI6dIL8_KuvYxmeWibWBBVBLaP4JIWGyiI3x5tZvIBgL07x88lcG93hNC8AMc/s710/Screenshot%202024-01-19%20at%2010.21.24%E2%80%AFPM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="710" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuv-QF784uLweS0A7VtTLDvbXJs8-jTi771QURk4zwZbNASgyw6wIpmOeTz9bB_lFhCM02tcTwhWRH6QDqdA0OP4TkX7Q_PEl4bjCbXPWwkWfiquLGu8MoE8IEI6dIL8_KuvYxmeWibWBBVBLaP4JIWGyiI3x5tZvIBgL07x88lcG93hNC8AMc/s16000/Screenshot%202024-01-19%20at%2010.21.24%E2%80%AFPM.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Source: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/C1ZBiajrPHd/" target="_blank">"The problem with moving abroad"</a> by <a href="https://www.instagram.com/destination_savvy/" target="_blank">@destination_savvy</a></i></div><br /><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Saw this on IG today and it just summed up how I felt</div><div><div style="text-align: center;">when I was in the thick of planning my move back to Penang. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>No, I never lived abroad. Never had the chance. I studied, began my career and started my family in my homeland ๐ฒ๐พ, except I was a 3.5-hour drive away from the city in which I was born. <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Moving to KL at 17, I didn't think anything would change. I didn't feel the difference nor expect the divide when I left. I didn't foresee any detachment. I mean, I was born and bred in Penang! NRIC 07! I would always be a Penangite! And a proud one at that! ๐ซก</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">But still, it happened. This happened. ๐</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>It was only when I was preparing for my move back to my hometown a good 18 years later when I was in my mid-thirties, that the distinction between the me then and the me now became obvious. I realised that I didn't know how to move back home,... because home didn't feel like home anymore. ๐ซค</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I left a carefree teenage student at the cusp of life.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I returned, a wife and a mother, and later a survivor, </div><div style="text-align: center;">with a business to run
and a home and family to care for. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I can't explain it any other way. It really, really felt like time stood still the whole time I was away, and I had outgrown this life that once was mine. To be honest, Penang was almost unrecognisable. I couldn't get to where I wanted to go without Waze. (I learned to drive in KL. ๐ ) And even old friends had turned into familiar strangers almost two decades later. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Still, I had to try.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="text-align: center;">Refamiliarising myself with my little island took a while. In fact, it took longer than expected, no thanks to Covid and the lockdown. </span>And although I still miss my life and friends in KL so many, many muchness, 4.5 years later, I can finally say that I'm starting to grow accustomed to life back in Penang. ๐๏ธ</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I've kinda settled on my favourite hawkers, haunts, and hangouts; places where the aunties, uncles, and service staff know me, my name and my order well enough for me to sit down and just have the food arrive. (Every day go same place, eat same-same. ๐) I've rekindled old friendships and made new ones. But yes, I still use Waze everywhere I go; at least now it's mainly to avoid traffic. (Penang also always jam.)<br /></div></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Is this home? Well, my house here feels like home. ๐ก But beyond these four walls, I still have a ways to go before I can honestly say that Penang is, without a doubt, where I feel most at home at as opposed to anywhere else in the world. In the mean time, I guess this is my truth: <br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Penang is my base, KL is my escape and Family is my home.</div></div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-48886380457427104562024-01-16T17:59:00.015+08:002024-01-20T00:05:47.427+08:00The Word "Piano"<div style="text-align: center;">JJ has always had a way with words.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>JJ: <span style="color: #38761d;">Do we have piano today? </span><div><br /></div><div>Pam Song: <span style="color: #800180;">Yes</span></div><div><br /></div><div>.JJ: <span style="color: #38761d;">WHATTTTT??? I hate piano!</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Pam Song: <span style="color: #800180;">You still have to go.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>JJ: <span style="color: #38761d;">Why?? Even the word "piano" has NO in it! Pia-NO!</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Pam Song: ๐ ๐๐คฃ <span style="color: #800180;">Hahahahaha... Good one. Let's go.</span></div></div><div><br /></div><div>JJ: <span style="color: #38761d;">NooOoOoOOoooOOoo!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">LOL. This boy cracks me up!</div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-82483957932088263652023-12-27T09:08:00.002+08:002023-12-27T20:37:16.028+08:00A Pink-Themed Christmas Tree & Year-End Wishes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiubeXMMd1gVFDmaS_m9q34y-1tHbb6YZMEt1qPxQcBsm7At0NIQs2YfggHO04HnfFwdyDyYJnbQJydp-deUwrvshyphenhyphenPlS0F9ZDM79speV4cNAwAdwiZV0kRc7Tc2oPGD9k6jCnd5KrevmPwbimuOnGz_HL6qL9bO6IDCmd6tDkT-W9JonYMjW2k/s533/IMG_3219.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiubeXMMd1gVFDmaS_m9q34y-1tHbb6YZMEt1qPxQcBsm7At0NIQs2YfggHO04HnfFwdyDyYJnbQJydp-deUwrvshyphenhyphenPlS0F9ZDM79speV4cNAwAdwiZV0kRc7Tc2oPGD9k6jCnd5KrevmPwbimuOnGz_HL6qL9bO6IDCmd6tDkT-W9JonYMjW2k/s16000/IMG_3219.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Bought my family Christmas tree along with all its bells and whistles a long time ago during the Christmas of 2012 and it has served me well all these years. Pretty. But also pretty boring after a decade and one. So, this is the very first time I'm switching things up and giving our family tree the chance to look pink and rosy. #myChristmaswishthisyear #girlydreamcometrue #pinkfever</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6yO3weHW814wmDsIPSzxpeIH5U4ZQIZ36a8sB4GmT5ewB10V-XH8-ognR6oQz11UzRmYXvINxXIqG7TiMVEx09STkRo0_ldGCL28Rnqjj5Y7adCtyYxAIWeqjIcWE0LKYjlUPU3PdbUbJOB7QhOs3Yw7HVYbUWUfiPSN2-hHEcExqXpGQI1Ho/s533/IMG_3222%20copy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6yO3weHW814wmDsIPSzxpeIH5U4ZQIZ36a8sB4GmT5ewB10V-XH8-ognR6oQz11UzRmYXvINxXIqG7TiMVEx09STkRo0_ldGCL28Rnqjj5Y7adCtyYxAIWeqjIcWE0LKYjlUPU3PdbUbJOB7QhOs3Yw7HVYbUWUfiPSN2-hHEcExqXpGQI1Ho/s16000/IMG_3222%20copy.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>It's not what you'd typically find in a home with boys but, I mean... The person who dresses the tree gets to decide what it looks like, right?? ๐คฃ๐โโ๏ธ Anyway, I've always thought of doing this โ switch up one key colour every year โ but I just never got around to doing it. I think it'd be a great idea in the long run to help us differentiate the years instead of just guesstimating our Christmases with the kids' increasing heights. ๐๐ </div><div><br /><div><br /></div></div><div><div><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY6eENFg_H4UB_t_Dn-RqxxPkkssK6R3ZE_wIGB5urzEKgIvYdr1Eb0dFpC5-CD-Icxyl1B-0L5VzuuGMHf041nIF3zC7sdf39JVrQTFAlEokMSTZlIqHUoYDZhMeEfgUzVNmL7gdgvalLKIx3F6Yzqqdz3DJt-ZckTJQ68V84mNEobDI2wxXs/s533/Christmas%202024.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY6eENFg_H4UB_t_Dn-RqxxPkkssK6R3ZE_wIGB5urzEKgIvYdr1Eb0dFpC5-CD-Icxyl1B-0L5VzuuGMHf041nIF3zC7sdf39JVrQTFAlEokMSTZlIqHUoYDZhMeEfgUzVNmL7gdgvalLKIx3F6Yzqqdz3DJt-ZckTJQ68V84mNEobDI2wxXs/s16000/Christmas%202024.jpg" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Christmas 2024 with my updated Christmas tree, Version 2.0. ๐ </i></div><div><br /></div></div><div><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">Anyhoo... Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, </div><div style="text-align: center;">and Happy One-Week-In-Between from</div><div style="text-align: center;">me and my little family to you and yours. ๐ฅณ</div></div></div></div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-6930989972257086512023-09-12T10:43:00.006+08:002023-09-12T10:47:01.284+08:00Dealing With An IdiotWhat does one do when one finds oneself trapped in the never-ending nightmare of dealing with a perpetual idiot who has made practising idiocy their life's calling? How many times is an idiot allowed to be idiotic before his/her idiocy becomes too much for one to bear? And what if, by some cosmic joke, one is tasked with the unenviable duty of managing a true master of idiocy? <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">How to tahan dealing </div><div style="text-align: center;">with an idiot day in and day out?? </div><div><div style="text-align: center;">How to tahan, I ask you?!? <span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/c5a15be93e425dcb8a26b06645ad4574_a_2175-64.png");"><span>๐ค๐ก</span></span></div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The patience of a saint, the diplomacy of a seasoned diplomat, and a sense of humour that borders on the absurd โ three things that are required for one to successfully deal with those who have made idiocy their life's calling; all of which, I do not have. ๐ So, I shall blog this rant, take a deep breath, steel myself for the idiocy ahead, and remember, this day shall end, sleep shall come, and when I awaken, His mercies are new every morning. ๐ฎโ๐จ๐โ๏ธ</div></div></div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-19847817523815710222023-06-21T21:53:00.006+08:002023-06-21T21:57:04.086+08:00Working Class Citizen<div style="text-align: center;">Yup! Friend has gone back to full-time work. <span style="text-align: left;">๐</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>It's been a little over 2 months since I've returned to working full time โ albeit in a mostly WFH setting โ but I'm really quite enjoying this new-old phase of my life. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Overall, it's been good! Working and having a life outside of mommy-hood is very psychologically and emotionally rewarding for me. I feel purposeful and empowered. I feel "useful" โ for lack of a better word. Like I'm finally utilising my brain, talents and skills in a meaningful and contributive way. </div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I know, I know. Raising humans is purposeful work that requires brain, talent and skill, as well. (Not to mention immense love, dedication and patience! ๐) Especially so if you want to raise good, godly human beings who will contribute positively to society in time to come. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>BUT BUT BUT... it's just not the same. FTWM projects are sprinkled with deadlines that come and go swiftly. Raising kids, on the other hand, is a lifelong process with no checklist in sight. #ilovemychecklist (Yes, even when they're 55 and retired, I'm sure there will still be <i>some</i> measure of mothering to be done. ๐คญ) </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The SAHM life is really not for me lah.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Even though I kept myself busy semi-freelancing, selling YLEO, undergoing chemo to save my life and running <a href="https://www.instagram.com/giftagift.my/">GiftAGift.my</a> all through my years of SAHM-ness, I mostly still felt... lost. Purposeless. Stifled and suffocated. Like I'm always in a rut, living each day on my hamster wheel โ running endlessly while getting nowhere. Just doing unseen things for others and not being recognised and rewarded for my efforts.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So, going back to work has</div><div style="text-align: center;">been welcomed change for me!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Of course, I initially worried about not being able to keep up after being away from the industry for so long. But now, after being back for awhile, I feel like I've found my stride and I'm doing alright la. HAHA. #shameless I wake up each morning with purpose, ready to face the day and start ticking off the to-dos on my list. #todolistsrock<br /><br /><br />Naturally, juggling work and family is no easy feat that's exceedingly demanding at times. There are days when I feel frazzled and stretched thin from meeting deadlines whilst still ensuring that dinner is on the table by 7pm. But I've come to realise that it's worth it. Because at the end of a busy day, I always feel tired... but accomplished. ๐ช</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>It's not about the paycheque (bluffing you la, of course earn money syok also la ๐คญ), it's not about seeking external validation (but also happy when proposals fly and jobs cepat-cepat get approved, too ๐คฃ) but rather, it's about feeling valued and appreciated for what I bring to the table. #truth<br /><br /><br /></div><div>And at the end of the day, I strongly believe that being a happy and fulfilled individual makes me a better person... and a better mom. Don't get me wrong. I have no regrets putting my career on hold to raise my children this past decade. But now that they're a little more grown up, and especially after having survived cancer (twice!) I think it's time I start investing a bit more in Me once again.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">To the next chapter! <span style="text-align: left;">๐ฅ</span></div></div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-61293218121334045272023-06-12T15:03:00.006+08:002023-06-12T15:05:06.016+08:00The Little Twist Tie That Wrapped Itself Around My Heart<div style="text-align: left;">Last week while I was on a work call, JJ quietly crept into my room handed me this little heart he made out of twist tie and immediately tiptoed out without making a sound. ๐คซ</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyXnGegNLhILvaBaBg4FDWknVkuDG8ww_tZvwXYSqoBAYYvK3zKZr8RyclwSGVAtKTMpv0uAmFL44XFATAL1xmI8OPkl-oZBE6fOGfeayMlKoccTrstggWvHPj53_wXFyyqPDqTP3XratqN1cQedtMQ-wBJ_xMkmUa3orBwSypZu5fW7xw_g/s533/IMG_6039.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyXnGegNLhILvaBaBg4FDWknVkuDG8ww_tZvwXYSqoBAYYvK3zKZr8RyclwSGVAtKTMpv0uAmFL44XFATAL1xmI8OPkl-oZBE6fOGfeayMlKoccTrstggWvHPj53_wXFyyqPDqTP3XratqN1cQedtMQ-wBJ_xMkmUa3orBwSypZu5fW7xw_g/s16000/IMG_6039.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It made me smile cos only he would do something like this. ๐ฅฐ </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I didn't have the time to take a proper pic when it happened so I no longer remember the exact date, but I'm blogging this now so I remember that it happened anyway. That in the middle of a busy work day, my almost-9-year-old took the time to tell me that he loves me... without having to say a word. โค๏ธ</div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-33320923541945657112023-06-12T13:26:00.002+08:002023-06-12T13:26:17.674+08:00Quick Life Update<div style="text-align: center;">It's been awhile since I've been consistently active here </div><div><div style="text-align: center;">on TinkiTalks but so much has happened nonetheless. </div><div><br /></div></div><div><br /></div><div>The kids are growing up (JJ is turning 9 come September and JZ is turning 11 in November!), I've gone back to full-time work (it's been 2 months of WFH!), the in-laws have moved in (temporarily while their home reno is ongoing)... yup! Lots happening on this end.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I feel saddened by the fact that </div><div style="text-align: center;">my memories are not being logged and that</div><div style="text-align: center;">the good times are just passing me by.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>But the busyness of life is so all-consuming and blogging isn't as convenient as it used to be. Unlike the days of past when I was physically at the office, whenever I don't have to attend to work now, I have to be away from the comp catching up on GiftAGift.my stuff and getting everything else done around the home.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I keep telling myself that I still have pictures to remind me of the little moments that bring me joy so that when I actually do find the time to blog, I'll still be able to play catch-up with my posts. But... life always get in the way and my memory is sh*t so the plan hardly ever works. ๐ฉ</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So how, I ask you??</div><div style="text-align: center;">Move my life to Instagram? <span style="text-align: left;">๐ค</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Yerrr...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">#bloggerforlife <span style="text-align: left;">๐</span></div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-78314988908638363492023-03-22T03:22:00.002+08:002023-03-22T03:27:16.395+08:00Ironic > Annoyed > Hurt<div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Ironicโฆ</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> โฆhow no one notices when I do,</div><div style="text-align: center;">but all notice it when I donโt. ๐</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Annoyingโฆ</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> โฆthat no one notices when I do,</div><div style="text-align: center;">and all notice it when I donโt. ๐ </div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Hurtfulโฆ </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"> โฆbecause no one notices when I do;</div><div style="text-align: center;">they only notice it when I donโt. ๐</div></div><p></p>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-76277108629259890952022-12-29T22:25:00.006+08:002023-03-29T14:56:58.307+08:00The Parental Guide to Answering Unanswerable QuestionsAnd so, after a busy and tiring day, it was bedtime again in the Kan household. It was late and I was JUST. SO. READY. for the kids to quieten down and knock out (so I can sneak a wee bit of Me Time before I crash <span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2171-64.png");"><span class="">๐</span></span>). But right after turning off the lights, Ethan goes, <span style="color: #38761d;">"Mommy..."</span><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">๐</div><br /><br /><div>Aiyoooo... This boy really has a knack of talking when he shouldn't. In fact, he talks the most during meal times and bedtimes. Tsk. Anyway, without waiting for me to respond, he cepat-cepat asked his question...<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d;">"If a person is fat, does that mean</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d;">they have more blood?" </span>๐ฉธ</div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">๐ณ<br /><br />*blink blink*</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Hmmm... Truth be told, I have no idea. LOL. Logically I suppose that makes sense? But I don't know for sure and I just couldn't be bothered to Google at the time because... well, late already la kan. So, I snuck him this reply instead:<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #800180;">"Ooo... Good question!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #800180;">I can't wait for you to find out and tell me!"</span><br /><br />๐ ๐</div><br /><br />Satisfied that he had thought of a good question, he went to bed. Haha! Works every time. ๐ So, if your kid ever asks you questions you don't know the answers to, you know what to do. Happy parenting!</div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-31011980913867170092022-09-18T14:22:00.182+08:002023-02-27T20:25:30.253+08:00Quit Playin' Games With My HeartThe boys have been begging us for a pet for a long while now. And not like a guppy or a terrapin that you contain in a glass box and feed once a day. No, no. They want a cat. <span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2203-64.png");"><span>๐บ </span></span>Or a dog. <span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_922-64.png");"><span>๐ถ Like, wth? I blame all those playdates at friends' houses. One of JZ's friends has 7 pets of various kinds. Another has a new British Shorthair kitten. Craziest story is this: One of JJ's buddies has *drumroll please* 28 cats in his condo. </span></span><span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2196-64.png");"><span>๐ต</span></span><span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2197-64.png");"><span>๐ตโ๐ซ #siaoliao</span></span><br /><br /><br />While The Husband (who's never really had a pet) is leaning towards ok-ing idea, I, on the other hand am not. Pets are A LOT of work! Living with two sporty pre-teens without a live-in helper is enough work as it is. I am not at all motivated to add more things to my to-do, to-wash and to-clean list, thank you. These people don't clear, wash and clean so they don't understand the amount of work that <i>already</i> comes with running a household of 2 adults and 2 kids. <span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2178-64.png");"><span>๐ค </span></span><div><span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2178-64.png");"><span><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2178-64.png");"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2178-64.png");"><span>Now, you wanna make it</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2178-64.png");"><span>4 adults and 2 kids <u>PLUS</u> 1 pet??</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2178-64.png");"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2178-64.png");"><span>A</span></span>iya, mai laaaaa...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Don't trouble Trouble if Trouble </div><div style="text-align: center;">hasn't trouble you la, come on! <span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2183-64.png");"><span>๐ฉ</span></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br />We visited CTY in Penang once with the intention of getting a pup for the boys. But after seeing the dogs step all over their poop, The Husband quickly made a mental U-turn and changed his mind. But today, while heading towards DPULZE Shopping Mall, Cyberjaya (that also has a big pet store), this conversation ensued:<br /><div><br /><br />The Husband: <span style="color: #0b5394;">Ok la, boys! Letโs go get a dog! </span><div><br /></div><div> JZ & JJ: <span style="color: #800180;">Yayyyy!!! </span></div><div><br /></div><div> The Husband: <span style="color: #0b5394;">We buy from DPULZE! </span></div><div><br /></div><div> JZ & JJ: <span style="color: #800180;">Yayyyy!!!</span></div><div><br /></div><div> The Husband: <span style="color: #0b5394;">Just kidding. </span></div><div><br /></div><div> JZ & JJ: <span style="color: #800180;">Boooooโฆ </span></div><div><br /></div><div>JZ: <span style="color: #ffa400;">Papa, if you want to say anything, and itโs a lie, donโt say it. Because you make us excited. Then you break our hearts. </span></div><div><br /></div><div> JJ: <span style="color: #38761d;">Words of wisdom, Kor Kor. </span></div><div><br /></div><div> The Husband: <span style="color: #0b5394;">Haha. Okay. Sorry. </span></div><div><br /></div><div> JJ: <span style="color: #38761d;">Yes. Then you make us want to cry and die. </span></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2147-64.png");"><span>๐ </span></span><span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2147-64.png");"><span>๐ </span></span><span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2147-64.png");"><span>๐ </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2147-64.png");"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2147-64.png");"><span>Needless to say, we left DPULZE without a pet.</span></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">You know, it's too bad my boys </div><div style="text-align: center;">aren't familiar with the Backstreet Boys.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Otherwise, they'd be singing this tune right about now:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><i><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />"Quit playin' games with my heart </i></div><div><i>Before you tear us apart (my heart) </i></div><div><i>Quit playin' games with my heart </i></div><div><i>I should've known from the start </i></div><div><i>You know you got to stop (from my heart) </i></div><div><i>You're tearing us apart (my heart) </i></div><div><i>Quit playin' games with my heart:</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>โ Quit Playing Games (With My Heart)</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>by Backstreet Boys</i></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Me, I'm definitely more of a dog person than a cat person.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And I do secretly love the idea of having a puppy at home. <span style="text-align: left;">๐คซ</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>But I've been there and done that with Princess. ๐ฅฒ I now understand that although having a pet has its fun and emotional upsides, the cleaning up after each poo and pee... the weekly baths... the nail-cutting and toothbrushing... the daily feeding and water filling... the inconvenience when going on holidays... and not to mention the heartbreak and emotional trauma that follows in the days after their deaths because, well, we'll definitely outlive our pets at this point... it's just not worth it. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I would be perfectly happy to go through life</div><div style="text-align: center;">without having to go through all this again.</div></div></div></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>That's not to say my kids should never get pets. They can get their own pets when they have their own homes. Then I'll go over for some doggy playtime. ๐</div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-27020033002038956772022-05-04T21:41:00.001+08:002022-05-12T16:47:38.842+08:00Thoughts About RudenessIn the Disney 1942 animated feature film Bambi, Thumper the bunny wisely said, <i>โIf you canโt say somethin' nice, donโt say nothin' at all.โ </i><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">That means: donโt be rude. ๐๐ค</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>He forgot to add, <i>โIf you ain't gettin' at decent reply, donโt bother askin' at all.โ </i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This means: donโt accept rudeness either. <span style="text-align: center;">๐</span>๐ค</div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-2431384098569042612022-05-03T15:34:00.003+08:002022-05-12T16:11:21.229+08:00Food Rationing<div>It's not easy managing the kids when they're so competitive all the time. Maybe it's a boy thing. Or maybe it's just a sibling thing I wouldn't know about. ๐ #singlechild <br /><br /><br />Somehow, there's always that tendency for one-upmanship โ no matter what! Smarter! Better! Quicker! More! Thing is, when it comes to food, both always fight for LESS. Why? Because with less food on their plates, they can finish faster. ๐ (Still with the one-upmanship, duncha think? #neverendingstory)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Pam Song: <span style="color: #800180;">JJ, hurry up and finish your food.</span></div><div><br /></div>JJ: <span style="color: #ffa400;">But you gave me MORE than Kor Kor! </span><br /><br />Pam Song: <span style="color: #800180;">Nonsense! I gave you the SAME. </span>๐ <br /><br />JZ: <span style="color: #38761d;">Ya laaaa...</span> (Adding fuel to fire. ๐ฅ) <span style="color: #38761d;">Mummy gave ME more at the start ok! </span>*smug face*<br /><br />Pam Song: <span style="color: #800180;">Wait. What?? NONSENSE!! I am <u>FAIR</u>!!! </span>๐ก<div style="text-align: center;"><br /><br />Does this stop when they're older?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Or will it always be like this? ๐ </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Whatever the case, it's true though.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Mommy's always fair. ๐</div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-66584336721210306552022-04-13T16:19:00.002+08:002022-05-12T22:51:48.933+08:00Reminder To Self That It Won't Always Be Like ThisCame across this beautiful piece of motherly musings on Instagram today and it really resonated with me. Especially now that the kids are growing up and my babies are no longer babies. <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>No longer do they gurgle and leave their spit all over my top. No longer do they waddle, slip and fall on their bums. No more do they mumble gibberish I don't understand but smile and respond to anyway. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>They're 7 and 9; going on 8 and 10. How quickly they grow up. How swiftly time flies. I know it's still a long way aways till the day they no longer need me more than I need them. But the day is fast approaching and I feel it in my heart already anyway. ๐ข<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">------------</div><br /><br />It wonโt always be like this. <div>I remind myself of this often. </div><div>To help me see through the hard days, but to also pull me into the now. </div><div><br /></div><div>Because itโs true. </div><div>They wonโt always be this small. </div><div>And I wonโt always be this tired. </div><div>They wonโt always need me in this way. </div><div>And I wonโt always feel this lost. </div><div>They wonโt always come to me first. </div><div>And I wonโt also feel like I come last. </div><div><br /></div><div>This is a season. </div><div>We will move through it together. </div><div>And it will pass before we know it. </div><div><br /></div><div>It wonโt always be like this. </div><div>And my heart aches as I think about what it may look like. </div><div>The first school drop off. </div><div>The last kiss goodnight. </div><div>The nights up late waiting for a call that doesnโt come. </div><div><br /></div><div>Because life will be different one day. </div><div>And it wonโt always be this tiring, messy, or beautifully wholesome. </div><div><br /></div><div>It will be watching from afar from a clean house, longing for them to come home for a weekend. </div><div>It will be loving them through phone lines, messenger, and the kilometres between us. </div><div>It will be losing myself in something new, to busy my mind from what Iโm missing. </div><div><br /></div><div>It wonโt always be like this. </div><div>Not the hard. </div><div>Or the beautiful.</div><div>It will be a different hard and beautiful. </div><div><br /></div><div>We wonโt always be like this either.</div><div>We will age. </div><div>And our relationship will evolve. </div><div>We will be a different type of โusโ. </div><div><br /></div><div>But this is my one chance at now. </div><div>I only get to love them, be there for them, and be needed in this exact way, once. </div><div>I only get to know this stage of motherhood like the back of my hand, once. </div><div>I only get this time as we are now, once. </div><div><br /></div><div>This is it. </div><div>I only get one Motherhood. </div><div>And they only get one childhood. </div><div><br /></div><div>This time is ours. </div><div>So Iโm breathing it in, in all of its shades, </div><div>Because it just wonโt always be like this. </div><div><br /></div><div>๐ Words (@wordsof_emmaheaphy), taken from the second book โMother Onโ in her early motherhood collection.</div></div></div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-68704889328929496402021-12-29T00:09:00.003+08:002022-06-06T09:10:17.802+08:00Why Would Best Friends Fall Out?
Somehow or another, the topic of <a href="https://tinkitalks.blogspot.com/2021/09/best-friends-come-best-friends-go.html" target="_blank">best friends coming and going</a> came up again tonight before bedtime and I told the boys about my one-time best friend Ming, who was still a friend but no longer a "best" friend over the course of time passing. To which, JJ curiously asked:
<br /><br /><br />JJ: <span style="color: #ffa400;">Mommy, why isnโt she your best friend anymore? </span><br /><br /><div>Pam Song: <span style="color: #800180;">No particular reason. We just drew apart.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>JJ: ๐ณ<span style="color: #ffa400;"> Wait. YOU DREW HER BUTT??</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">๐ ๐ ๐ </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">That would totally be a legit reason</div><div style="text-align: center;">for best friends to fall out, I guess. ๐๐๐</div></div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-41943079329309582922021-12-28T23:55:00.007+08:002023-03-29T14:54:47.045+08:00VIP Vs CPR<div style="text-align: center;">Ethan climbs onto me in bed (as he always likes to do)</div><div><div style="text-align: center;">and I proceed to pretend to struggle to breathe.</div><br /><br />Pam Song: *gasp* *gasp* *gasp* <br /><br />Ethan: <span style="color: #38761d;">Donโt worry, Mommy! I know VIP!! </span><span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2143-64.png");"><span class="">๐</span></span><br /><br />Pam Song: ๐คจ <span style="color: #800180;">Baby... Itโs called CPR. </span>๐</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">VIP... CPR... Close, I guess? ๐ </div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-53382731857704670662021-12-28T23:55:00.005+08:002022-05-15T16:39:38.472+08:00Acronyms Are Confusing<p>JJ climbs onto me in bed during bedtime and I dramatically pretend to struggle to breathe like the Oscar-winning actress I'm not. </p><br />Pam Song: *gasp* *gasp* *gasp*<br /><br />JJ: *calmly and reassuringly* <span style="color: #ffa400;">Donโt worry, Mommy. I know VIP. </span>๐<br /><br />Pam Song: ๐คจ <span style="color: #800180;">Uhhh... B<span>aby, itโs </span></span><span style="color: #800180;">called CPR.</span> ๐Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-89837507358430151042021-10-04T18:00:00.001+08:002021-10-05T02:59:27.438+08:00And Again, It HappensThe climb is hard but the fall is easy. Going it alone sounds difficult but together doesnโt seem any easier. So much to do; so little remembered. Always trying, yet always falling short. An hour or two, so short it feels; an hour or two, so long it seems. Funny how <i>โI donโt believe you,โ </i>sounds just like, <i>โYou donโt trust me,โ</i> except with different words. Funny how it isnโt funny. And again, giving up sounds bad but could be for the better.Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-4672157012616136712021-09-23T22:02:00.008+08:002022-05-14T22:24:42.752+08:00Best Friends Come & Best Friends Go<div>JZ made a best friend in school when he was in Year 2. A nice Taiwanese boy with a smiley disposition. During the two years that they spent together as classmates, the boys were thick as thieves. They played really well together and enjoyed each others' company a lot, in and out of school. His mom and I were friends so we were comfortable setting up playdates for the children over the weekends and during the holidays, too.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>They both stayed best of friends all the way till the end of Year 3 when, very unfortunately, this friend moved to another school across the state. When his mom first broke the news to me, I was stunned and overwhelmed with emotions. I didn't know how JZ would take it! Later in the week, this friend made sure to let JZ be the first to know that he was leaving the school. It was a sad day that was heartbreaking for both to say the least. ๐<br /><br /><br /></div><div>I was so desperate to help ease JZ's pain of losing yet another best friend ๐ฉ that I reached out to two old friends to help me offer him some words of comfort and prove to him that friendships do last when both parties put in the effort to keep in touch no matter how many years have passed or how many state lines and immigration counters stood between us. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIbG-_MTvctxw3If9Aie89D8M5Ys32ul6VxKi22ughKBfC9N7l4XEX1IT0Jqs44r6j9ZwB36jI6kYqfqqRvb2Ik-QA1w_jl3g_6yyH3xfkvepQOpu-a8smOGn5jm2lNJWHIfijdGOqhZc0FpJ-1CzWRU990gLwEBwiKeIDvS97eY7nUU2GiQ/s796/IMG_5486.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="796" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIbG-_MTvctxw3If9Aie89D8M5Ys32ul6VxKi22ughKBfC9N7l4XEX1IT0Jqs44r6j9ZwB36jI6kYqfqqRvb2Ik-QA1w_jl3g_6yyH3xfkvepQOpu-a8smOGn5jm2lNJWHIfijdGOqhZc0FpJ-1CzWRU990gLwEBwiKeIDvS97eY7nUU2GiQ/s16000/IMG_5486.PNG" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVlr1ZSW_W-N3jcz0x44VkL_yJBdOXEKqDVFHLOfb7Xlo2L7mHTriLVFZO1gS0ckup2C81JDV9vV2CgTPYQ-N5u_G6y-6OkGBrMyj3dzx5sLcQmK2-U5J-Myw-EH6J5EifY78xPYUhEjuw1__f7JE2Ln3XJHdxGOQw-k9lyVs9W4-yszSUjA/s796/IMG_5484.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="796" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVlr1ZSW_W-N3jcz0x44VkL_yJBdOXEKqDVFHLOfb7Xlo2L7mHTriLVFZO1gS0ckup2C81JDV9vV2CgTPYQ-N5u_G6y-6OkGBrMyj3dzx5sLcQmK2-U5J-Myw-EH6J5EifY78xPYUhEjuw1__f7JE2Ln3XJHdxGOQw-k9lyVs9W4-yszSUjA/s16000/IMG_5484.PNG" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Two of my oldest friends in the world (we've known each other since nursery!) came to the rescue with kind words of encouragement for JZ ๐ฅฐ on the 6th of May 2021 โ the day he heard the news. At the time, this boy and his family had plans to return to Taiwan. Thankfully, that plan was shelved. ๐ #smallmercies</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br />In hindsight, it was really unfortunate that the boys had to spend so many precious months apart due to the nationwide lockdown and COVID-19 school closures all through 2020 and 2021. Even when school eventually reopened for in-face studies, the boys were intentionally kept apart in class by their teachers because, well, best friends tend to chat when they sit side by side so... yeah. ๐ Only <i>once</i> did they get a week to sit together in the entire school year seating rotation. ๐ข</div><div><br /></div><div><br />But of course, Time heals all wounds. โค๏ธโ๐ฉน The boys do still play well together whenever they have the chance to meet, which is rare nowadays with everybody's busy and clashing schedules. Having said that, I should really put in the effort to plan another playdate for him someday soon but am so unmotivated due to COVID risk, a lack of a live-in helper to help clean up after, and just general laziness and unsociability on my part. ๐ฉ </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">In the mean time, JZ has come to accept this shift in his relationship with his once-best friend. He has yet to find a new best friend but is also not short of friends in school so... I guess it's alright. It'll be alright. He will be alright. Because no matter who comes and goes, he will always have JJ, Papa and me. ๐จโ๐ฉโ๐ฆโ๐ฆ #wearefamily</div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-22068612386885151912021-08-27T17:21:00.050+08:002023-03-29T15:11:44.067+08:00Living In A World Where You Can Buy RM2,000 Cars You Can't Gift-Wrap ๐Ethan's turning 7 next month. This boy never wastes an opportunity to ask for a gift so, as per his usual pre-birthday MO, Ethan put on his biggest, brightest, most-charming smile and asked:<br /><br /><br /> Ethan: <span style="color: #38761d;">Papa. what are you getting me for my birthday? </span><span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2143-64.png");"><span>๐</span></span><br /><br />The Husband: <span style="color: #ffa400;">What you want?</span><br /><br />Ethan: <span style="color: #38761d;">A car! </span><br /><br />The Husband: <span style="color: #ffa400;">What kind of car?</span><br /><br />Ethan: <span style="color: #38761d;">This car!!</span> *points to The Husbandโs car*<br /><br />Caden: <span style="color: #0b5394;">Are you crazy??</span><br /><br />Pam Song: <span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2627-64.png");"><span>๐คจ</span></span> <span style="color: #800180;">You canโt even drive yet.</span><br /><br />Caden: <span style="color: #0b5394;">Yeah!! Plus, it costs like, RM2,000 or something!! </span>(LOL. If only. <span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_2147-64.png");"><span>๐ </span></span>)<br /><br />Ethan: <span style="color: #38761d;">Oh ya... Plus, they canโt wrap it. </span><span class="cqiun4t2 khvhiq1o r5qsrrlp i5tg98hk iqx13udk przvwfww qiohso4h gfz4du6o r7fjleex nz2484kf svot0ezm dcnh1tix sxl192xd t3g6t33p" style="background-image: url("img/2617e32ba41ae37a81350005624747b8_a_641-64.png");"><span>๐</span></span><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">๐๐๐</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">#kidlogic #8yowisdom</div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-88555874195441563102021-08-18T21:29:00.068+08:002021-08-24T18:25:42.605+08:00I Smell WeirdI was all stuffed into my bed for a cosy, cuddly, snuggly bedtime with the boys. JJ had his head propped on my right shoulder while JZ had his arms and legs wrapped around my left hand. Suddenly, JZ said...<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>JZ: *sniffs my shoulder* <span style="color: #ffa400;">Mommy, you smell weird. </span></div><div><br /></div><div>Pam Song: *incredulously* <span style="color: #800180;">WHAT?! No way! </span></div><div><br /></div><div>JZ: <span style="color: #ffa400;">Yes! Itโs weird</span>. </div><div><br /></div><div>JJ: *protectively* <span style="color: #38761d;">No!! Mommy doesnโt smell weird!! Mommy always smells nice! Right, Mommy?</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Pam Song: <span style="color: #800180;">Of course! </span>๐ค</div><div><br /></div><div>JZ: *insisting* <span style="color: #ffa400;">Nooooo... Itโs weird!!</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Pam Song: <span style="color: #800180;">Fine! Then I smell like what??</span></div><div><br /></div><div>JZ: <span style="color: #ffa400;">Like... like... honey and flowers.</span> ๐ฏ๐ </div><div><br /></div><div>Pam Song: ๐ณ</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>So, dear future daughter-in-law, if ever my son tells you that you smell weird, it's okay. Don't take his comment as criticism. You probably just smell like honey and flowers. ๐ ๐</div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-37854213609183359762021-08-18T12:50:00.001+08:002021-08-20T21:51:45.438+08:00Empty NestNot a sound, not a boom, <div>Deathly silent like a tomb. </div><div>Home for four, but now homes two, </div><div>Quiet house, empty rooms. </div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-85213183805134181892021-08-10T17:29:00.001+08:002021-08-12T20:54:47.694+08:00My Husband Is Better Than Yours<div style="text-align: center;">Some husbands shower their wives</div><div><div style="text-align: center;">with flowers as an expression of their love. ๐</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">My husband changed the game. ๐คฉ</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD2P2tgaQVbbSxIsC_9xwaW90auzTiWIRkA3nbc0QLSkNudmkQepHFxDYGpi813G6K8XnXXvy7zYjdQySY9VJLyZ1tAATcTmQ7qjWPH-Dx_tD4HVdoiRJJ0LRSJtnEbOkN_qdE/s400/IMG_1807.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD2P2tgaQVbbSxIsC_9xwaW90auzTiWIRkA3nbc0QLSkNudmkQepHFxDYGpi813G6K8XnXXvy7zYjdQySY9VJLyZ1tAATcTmQ7qjWPH-Dx_tD4HVdoiRJJ0LRSJtnEbOkN_qdE/s16000/IMG_1807.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNfQIcB4NQoXhn4MxUaPgbUXNf5aRrIcGwMy95LyTssHbW_6dkHPCaN0WI5jROYg_QfoZe1CxEET7wmRWe_yDh2jdPvZkx7XAzGKud5eF1xFEFAfu895iOqW7TEiHGHb_8Uk2h/s533/IMG_1808.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNfQIcB4NQoXhn4MxUaPgbUXNf5aRrIcGwMy95LyTssHbW_6dkHPCaN0WI5jROYg_QfoZe1CxEET7wmRWe_yDh2jdPvZkx7XAzGKud5eF1xFEFAfu895iOqW7TEiHGHb_8Uk2h/s16000/IMG_1808.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh yeah... #myhusbandisbetterthanyours</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>p/s: This is not an ad. ๐</div></div></div></div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-31051618128632681612021-08-08T16:11:00.001+08:002021-08-11T22:46:35.043+08:00Had To Stop For A Picture...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX_0t9ASBxrq_HwiKkiDczvg8XnJMpeoPQtXphUSoVtBw95pACC-VNGx8DqUIYjkV_dDB5FuPnPpzsuv8Ndg-5e0lbtM77IweFpbc02X-rEN3uJUqnyqOwGwVyQnDB3RJ7Y9oV/s400/IMG_1732.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX_0t9ASBxrq_HwiKkiDczvg8XnJMpeoPQtXphUSoVtBw95pACC-VNGx8DqUIYjkV_dDB5FuPnPpzsuv8Ndg-5e0lbtM77IweFpbc02X-rEN3uJUqnyqOwGwVyQnDB3RJ7Y9oV/s16000/IMG_1732.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWsfDMIYcKeQbJCIasYFX52Qs2G1Y9-AlWL7yvH83X9b7VN706WirkQDS9a0Qz7IHxrOYxYtRns6zqJI1Srzo2gYDqZvnZJepv72SoVZbtuj8RZDhnBO1rnRlez8JDSFY7Vcdt/s533/IMG_1735.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWsfDMIYcKeQbJCIasYFX52Qs2G1Y9-AlWL7yvH83X9b7VN706WirkQDS9a0Qz7IHxrOYxYtRns6zqJI1Srzo2gYDqZvnZJepv72SoVZbtuj8RZDhnBO1rnRlez8JDSFY7Vcdt/s16000/IMG_1735.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvVWkF47jvlTEdb_4bu2vuhpDKN1ArSamFvhGt6u10AoA4kaaNK1GqzmZTSIVvt6N6hZL3IqqEFHPMdRoIj23HZqBz2siT1rt7K0qZrBi3AIN7lzxBcPryNyyfUvphJmPnm1D5/s400/IMG_1731.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvVWkF47jvlTEdb_4bu2vuhpDKN1ArSamFvhGt6u10AoA4kaaNK1GqzmZTSIVvt6N6hZL3IqqEFHPMdRoIj23HZqBz2siT1rt7K0qZrBi3AIN7lzxBcPryNyyfUvphJmPnm1D5/s16000/IMG_1731.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">...because some afternoons are just</div><div><div style="text-align: center;">more breathtaking than others. ๐คฉ</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">#seasunsky #islandlife #PenangIsland ๐๏ธ</div></div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-30824020347524796702021-07-27T10:50:00.003+08:002021-08-11T22:46:13.064+08:00Oh Where Oh Where Have My Babies Gone?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbWsgSKNW9-BEeg_0fWvXomARy9WhcF42Za7QbWVOQJ0S-qoTdKeNipL3fxkbMxEACz9K9fENFQu4UyJgc5gN_lfNXva_2fxGSXTQj5uviSrdA_t81OYmz96SdBHS8P2JxHwp/s400/IMG_5312.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbWsgSKNW9-BEeg_0fWvXomARy9WhcF42Za7QbWVOQJ0S-qoTdKeNipL3fxkbMxEACz9K9fENFQu4UyJgc5gN_lfNXva_2fxGSXTQj5uviSrdA_t81OYmz96SdBHS8P2JxHwp/s16000/IMG_5312.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>#throwback to #29December2014</i></div><p></p><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh, how I miss those cuddly baby days. ๐ถ๐ป๐คฑ๐ป</div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32353272.post-74377732233237068312021-07-25T11:00:00.005+08:002021-07-27T15:53:42.255+08:00The Cook & The Cleaner<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Woke up with the world on my shoulders.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Kids are on their last pair of sports clothes. ๐ฑ (That has officially been their lockdown uniform so Mommy doesn't have to do so much ironing. ๐คช) They've also just left for tennis class. That means they would have left my home well-fed... and will return home as hot, tired, hungry monsters. ๐</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">That means I have about an hour and a half to</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">get the laundry done and put lunch on the table.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCgUPJWguxqXg3rVidhCVtikQmOijNp9rv-Whxj1ROpODeMNeEvsMt0_YzkVdo35Gbr7-nQeo1xzOQAU2wIemdoS6idqLnOPBRPdbvSe-WtSEwymPwzjSE3x4xa1Afe9bUq8qj/s533/IMG_1354.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCgUPJWguxqXg3rVidhCVtikQmOijNp9rv-Whxj1ROpODeMNeEvsMt0_YzkVdo35Gbr7-nQeo1xzOQAU2wIemdoS6idqLnOPBRPdbvSe-WtSEwymPwzjSE3x4xa1Afe9bUq8qj/s16000/IMG_1354.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Top: First load of sportswear is already spinning in the dryer.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Bottom: Second load of whites are currently in the wash.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglobBAMhYRs-CN6WsXquw4eRjr4dxO33gPpCqPdwoVlHi9WG5HxnzLobSrPBneBPss9tMpvQXHsrtgdtTgas4ml3F82C0C5nmcb5mQnhp8dZv6l_TxvC9vZ8OihiapphUzvC_8/s400/IMG_1355.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglobBAMhYRs-CN6WsXquw4eRjr4dxO33gPpCqPdwoVlHi9WG5HxnzLobSrPBneBPss9tMpvQXHsrtgdtTgas4ml3F82C0C5nmcb5mQnhp8dZv6l_TxvC9vZ8OihiapphUzvC_8/s16000/IMG_1355.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Third load of multi-coloured and darks are waiting to go in.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJcBfrXrNhh-Vv0_FfZ0bkqQn-kfK4KpBQ759M6huMh08cAM1BWespQM84C2pMDysetJNdeMoMnWvctmyDnNSpitW9UhyZ4uMzpqhWGzEfEDyHkILHUOPsKNC-lzyXxraiSu15/s533/IMG_1357.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJcBfrXrNhh-Vv0_FfZ0bkqQn-kfK4KpBQ759M6huMh08cAM1BWespQM84C2pMDysetJNdeMoMnWvctmyDnNSpitW9UhyZ4uMzpqhWGzEfEDyHkILHUOPsKNC-lzyXxraiSu15/s16000/IMG_1357.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Two more loads of lights and darks to be run on gentle setting.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">That's FIVE loads of laundry to tackle in one morning.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Thank goodness it's not towels and bedsheets day, too. ๐ </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Oh, but laundry isn't all there is to do, right?</div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE2LGjZVEYTikAfOrEUuuPZ0IzkcxL-HVz5xBa3E733TWO9TXcCrnwxzdSPoUonLrcOoRd45EbBKaNnSpsuYM12LddtcQxg_6jPI02rutV9E5NBKi2AXStuqYWXzDb2WAORgBs/s400/IMG_1353.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE2LGjZVEYTikAfOrEUuuPZ0IzkcxL-HVz5xBa3E733TWO9TXcCrnwxzdSPoUonLrcOoRd45EbBKaNnSpsuYM12LddtcQxg_6jPI02rutV9E5NBKi2AXStuqYWXzDb2WAORgBs/s16000/IMG_1353.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A sink full of dirty dishes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtspQgmVLm6DyWWPdw09KVQ_0udQs4phWIRJnXdInEz56HgGQxmKpY-tGWhepIHVRMjMg284JHhXD7Y2iMK6546o4PZuGMjqb-_L916JPMWLHIlnwjTz7Mkk_4xzmeqlWSO2hK/s400/IMG_1352.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtspQgmVLm6DyWWPdw09KVQ_0udQs4phWIRJnXdInEz56HgGQxmKpY-tGWhepIHVRMjMg284JHhXD7Y2iMK6546o4PZuGMjqb-_L916JPMWLHIlnwjTz7Mkk_4xzmeqlWSO2hK/s16000/IMG_1352.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A semi-frozen, unwashed, uncut, uncooked lunch.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>So much to do, so little time. But somehow, it's all possible when I have the whole house to myself and my EarPods in place. Yes, housekeeping is relaxing, laundry is therapeutic and cooking is enjoyable... when there's no one else at home but me. ๐ #truestory #nomommymommymommy #gameon</div>Pam Songhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15399678618799594311noreply@blogger.com4