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. 

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

– Philippians 1:21

Number One Girl

Liked this song when it first came out.

5 months later, I’m liking it still. 🎶🎵

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Artist: Rosé

Title: Number One Girl

Tell me that I'm special, tell me I look pretty 

Tell me I'm a little angel, the sweetheart of your city 

Say what I'm dying to hear, 'cause I'm dying to hear you 

Tell me I'm that new thing, tell me that I'm relevant 

Tell me that I got a big heart, then back it up with evidence 

I need it and I don't know why, this late at night 

[CHORUS]

Isn't it lonely? 

I'd do anything to make you want me 

I'd give it all up if you told me that I'd be 

The number one girl in your eyes 

Your one and only 

So what's it gon' take for you to want me? 

I'd give it all up if you told me that I'd be 

The number one girl in your eyes 

Tell me I'm going real big places, down to earth, so friendly 

And even through all the phases, tell me you accept me 

Well, that's all I'm dying to hear, yeah, I'm dying to hear you 

Tell me that you need me, tell me that I'm loved 

Tell me that I'm worth it and that I'm enough 

I need it and I don't know why, this late at night 

[CHORUS]

Isn't it lonely? 

I'd do anything to make you want me 

I'd give it all up if you told me that I'd be 

The number one girl in your eyes 

Your one and only 

So what's it gon' take for you to want me? 

I'd give it all up if you told me that I'd be 

The number one girl in your eyes 

The girl in your eyes (eyes) 

The girl in your eyes (eyes) 

Tell me I'm the number one girl 

I'm the number one girl in your eyes 

The girl in your eyes (eyes) 

The girl in your eyes (eyes) 

Tell me I'm the number one girl 

I'm the number one girl in your eyes 

[CHORUS]

Well, isn't it lonely? 

I'd do anything to make you want me 

I'd give it all up if you told me that I'd be 

The number one girl in your eyes 

Your one and only 

So what's it gon' take for you to want me? 

I'd give it all up if you told me that I'd be 

The number one girl in your eyes 

The number one girl in your eyes

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Not new, but still on repeat. So many feels.

Yes, I feel you, Rosé. I feel you.

And yes, it's lonely, isn't it? 🥲

The Quiet Truth About This Mother’s Day

This Mother's Day hits different. It feels like I’ve lost the right to celebrate my own motherhood. Like I don’t deserve to be celebrated for this person I’ve become – this role I’ve taken on. And from the messages I’ve received from girlfriends and mom-friends, it seems I’m not the only mom who feels this way. 🥲

More and more, Mother’s Day seems to have become just that – a day of mothers making mothers feel seen. Heard. Understood. This year, especially. It’s just us, trying to give ourselves permission to celebrate the people we are. The people we became when kids came into our lives.

Bystanders sometimes say:
“Oh, she’s a natural mother!” 

But that’s a lie.

No one’s a “natural mother.” 

Is it natural to run on four hours of sleep a night for years and years on end? 

Is it natural to remember other people’s shoe sizes, allergies and best friends? 

Is it natural to give your favourite potato chip to someone else without blinking? 

No. None of it comes naturally. 

But we do it anyway. 

Or at least we try. Every day. 

We try through the doubt. We try through the mess. We try through the bone-deep fatigue. Even when we’re falling apart inside, we try. Even if we kill ourselves trying along the way.

We try to be calm when the chaos is deafening. We try to be patient even when we’re frayed and unravelling. We try to be patient when we’re running on fumes. We try to be present when all we want is to disappear. 

We try to be good. We try to be kind. We try not to cry in front of the kids (too much). We try to be tough. We try to be enough. And still we go to bed wondering – knowing – that after all that's been done, it’s still not enough. It’s never enough.

It’s not the kids; it’s the expectations – the ones placed on us by others around us. The kind felt in every sigh, every raised eyebrow, every snide comment, every frown, and every moment we fall short of being everything to everyone.

The expectation to be it all, do it all, and never complain. To mother like we don’t have a job, and work like we don’t have children. To keep the house running, to hold it all together, to stay patient, soft, reliable – no matter how, no matter what, without thanks, and without falling apart.

Yet, every day, I disappoint. And every day, I fail. Because somehow, I'm too much… or not enough. It seems I will never be enough. Because I'm "the worst in the world". Even worse than that mom. Cos I mess up too much, do too little, prioritise wrongly, and let someone – everyone – down. Again. Always. 💔

So, Happy Mother’s Day to us – the moms who are still trying. Still becoming. Still hoping that one day, we will be enough. In the mean time, we see each other. We celebrate one other. And maybe… just maybe… that’s enough. ❤️‍🩹

Tiam Kau Ka Si Lang

The one to watch out for is not the one who growls aloud, bares its teeth and attacks you from the front… but the one who sneaks around in the dark like a thief in the night with evil plans to steal, kill and destroy.

Them Hokkien aunties got it right

– it’s the quiet dog that will maul you to death.

Not with a loud bark, but with a pointed whisper.

And always when your back is turned. 

Tsk tsk. B*tch indeed. 🦴

M-NO-P

Last time, I was told that I was worse off. Today it seems, I am the same. Logic tells me sh*t is a step up from sh*ttier. It’s an improvement, I guess. But is it? 🤷‍♀️ #perspective #laukaki #whoknows #shittiestwins

Being Delulu Is The Solulu

When I’m angry, when I’m mad, 

 when frustrated or just sad... 

…I clean.

Option 2

Wanna die but cannot die.

So how? Just cry. 😢😭

Happiness Or Happy-less?

"Happiness is a choice."

Or so they say. 

But is this true? Is happiness really a choice? 

Or does someone else choose if you have it?

The reality is, that happiness often lies beyond our control, influenced more by the circumstances we find ourselves in, rather than by choice. I do not choose to be unhappy. But I find myself grappling with unhappiness, nonetheless. 😔

So, while we can make choices that may lead to moments of joy or contentment, asserting that happiness is purely a choice overlooks the myriad of uncontrollable external elements that shape our lives and affect our emotional landscape. 

In the end, perhaps it is not about choosing happiness, but about navigating the complexities of choice and circumstance with grace and resilience. And hopefully, somewhere along the way, there'll be happiness.

The New Reality

Loved < Lost 

Joy < Sadness 

Security < Fear

Confidence < Insecurity

Appreciated < Abandoned 

D-Day

D-End. ⚰️⚱️☠️

Ironic > Annoyed > Hurt

Ironic…

 …how no one notices when I do,

but all notice it when I don’t. 😒

Annoying…

 …that no one notices when I do,

and all notice it when I don’t. 😠

Hurtful… 

 …because no one notices when I do;

they only notice it when I don’t. 😞

And Again, It Happens

The climb is hard but the fall is easy. Going it alone sounds difficult but together doesn’t 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 don’t believe you,” sounds just like, “You don’t trust me,” except with different words. Funny how it isn’t funny. And again, giving up sounds bad but could be for the better.

New Hair, New Look, New Beginning

I initially planned on scarfing my way through chemo. But after telling the kids about my then-impending hair-loss one night, JZ cried buckets and begged me not to lose my hair. 😢 (JJ took it well. #bochup)

I gave it some thought and decided that this was one thing I couldn't be selfish about. Because he was a new kid in a new school, in a different state, at an impressionable age. I didn't want him to enter school with the stigma of being that kid – the one whose Mommy has no hair. 😔 It would shake his confidence and affect his friendships. I couldn't do that to him.

But wigs are crazy expensive.

And so is chemo + immuno. 😩💸

So when Mee offered to bless me with a good wig – yes, there are many types – I gratefully accepted. 🙏 I must admit that it's been the best investment so far. No regrets. Because, in hindsight, having a good wig really helped me integrate myself seamlessly in the kids' school as "Pam" instead of "that cancer mom with no hair", you know? #letsberealistic #thetruthhurts

I initially planned on wigging until my natural hair length either (1) was long enough for me to tie, or (2) matched my wig so the change in length would be unnoticeable during the switch – as it was when I started wigging. But... with my upcoming surgery and hospitalisation, I thought – heck it la. Let's just ripoff the bandaid and go natural since I won't be able to wig there anyways.

So... hi, guys! This is me with my new hair. 💁‍♀️ 

It's gonna be my first day out without a cap or wig

so... wish me and my frail confidence luck! 😬

JZ's 1st Swimming Time Trials

Today was a big day for my 6.5yo. He woke up bright and early to eat a hearty breakfast of eggs and oats, then shot off to school for his first ever experience at swimming time trials. 🏊‍♂️ #milestoneachieved #bigboyalready

It started raining when we left the house but it all worked out for good because, other than him having to brace swimming in icy, cold water ❄️, the weather was perfect after the rain. Read: NO MORE HAZE! 😷🤧 

Cloudy, overcast skies.

The skies clearing up after awhile.

My brave, little swimmer. 

That's my boy!

The kids were supposed to choose two events to participate in. JZ selected Freestyle 50m and Breaststroke 50m – yup, HIS choice. The two criteria required for today's participation? (1) Know the correct strokes, and (2) Finish the 50m.

We were so fortunate that, in spite of somehow not receiving a heat sheet (is that what those papers are called? 🤭 #noob) to let us know where and when JZ would be swimming, he ended up in the Lane 3 that was just right in front our seat, both times. (Yes, singular. There were not enough chairs to go around. 😩) What a blessing!

You know ah, with all these swimming events, the kids are required to put their swim caps and goggles on so... very difficult to recognise la. 😅 He may have come from my womb but at a swim meet, I really dunno who is who liao. All look the same from far. LOL! 

And here's our superstar in action!

Breaststroke 50m @ 9.37am.

Freestyle 50m @ 10.03am.

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My darling firstborn, JZ...

You did super well today and Mummy and Papa are so, so very proud of you! You definitely inherited your Papa's sporty genes. (Thank God for His grace and mercy! 😅😂) We love your keen interest in sports, your courage to explore the unfamiliar, your persevering spirit, your willingness to go beyond your comfort zone, and your desire to excel in all that you do. Keep up the good work, Son! Here's to more experiences and greater things ahead!

So much love,

Mummy

Because Words Matter

I'm so glad that while The Husband is your typical, everyday Chinaman when it comes to certain things, he's also not your typical, everyday Chinaman when it comes to other things. Like when he says things like this:


The Husband: Honey, I’m so glad you’re in my life.

Pam Song: 🙂

The Husband: I mean... I’m so glad I’m in your life. Not the same, right?

Pam Song: AWWW... *melts*

Ya lor. Not the same. 😘

Easy Or Not Easy? That Is The Question.

It's not easy being married. Heck, being married is like running a three-legged race through life with one person perpetually by your side! Seeing the same person – the same face – every single day. Dealing with the same issues – the same problems – day in and day out. After awhile, things creep in. It starts with the little things. It always does. Air-con temp. Chicken or fish. Who turns off the lights. Trivial stuff of little to no importance, really. But then, over time, the issues grow. They get bigger – more intense – usually when the severity and importance of the issue intensifies, too.

The Husband and I are not exempt

from this phenomenon that strikes couples

young and old, everywhere around the world.

We have our disagreements here and there every now and again. Over his idea of what I do versus mine – I consider myself a WFHM but I think he considers me a SAHM. Over the way we raise our kids – bedtime, nutrition, exercise, schooling, argh! Even the bible and theology – even though we're both Christians who grew up in the same church! Imagine that! And yes, after all this time, we still cannot agree when it comes to whether the room is too hot or too cold. LOL.

It's been over 5 years, 4 months and 2 weeks.

Almost 15 years from when we first started dating.

Yes, we've come a pretty long way!

But if you think it's all chores and arguments and blah-ness throughout all those years, you're wrong. The Husband can work me up like no one can but he can also make me feel so much better than anyone can. I started off having a really bad day but here are 6 ways The Husband turned it right around and, in turn, gained a couple of brownie points for himself (plus this blog post). Haha.

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1. He asked me, "What can I do to help?"

Today was one of those days when I had sooo many things to do that I just felt so overwhelmed by everything. Every single thing was going wrong with the house. The blocked sink x 5, the spraying tap, the spoilt heater, the leaking hose – OMG, OMG, OMG! And then there was work. So many things to do! Which is usually a good thing that I wouldn't complain about but everything just needed my immediate attention and I just couldn't get through to the operator today and didn't have time to wait. And then there was the kids. Mommy this! And Mommy that! And Mommy, Didi did this! And boo hoo hoo, let's all cry together and drive Mommy crazy! I also had a bunch of stuff to prepare for JZ's upcoming birthday this Saturday and I just didn't have the time to sit down and work on anything properly. Sigh. O-v-e-r-w-h-e-l-m-e-d MAXIMUM. T_T

2. He took charge and got in touch with a difficult vendor for me. 

Birthday party problems. Ugh. Resign already still must work right? Immediately cuci tangan meh?? Anyway, this is the first year I had to deal with vendors cos I usually DIY and throw home parties. And OMG, I can only conclude that I HATE DEALING WITH PEOPLE. 

3. He appreciated my effort.

This was in reference to the plumber who came to fix everything that was wrong in the house.

3. He bought me Thai Iced Tea from Boat Noodles. 

I was craving for it and he got me just what I wanted. Even helped me look for a bathroom to pee before we bought me my drink. LOL #uselessatdirections After that he bought me a burger, too. And some curly fries. Who says food only works with men? Haha. 

4. He drove me home.

I was so tired that I just felt like I couldn't last the drive home safely so he upped and drove me and the boys straight home. No second thoughts. 

5. He offered to give me a massage. "No charge," he said. 

I was struggling with a headache and some head heaviness after all that running around, coupled with a brand new flu bug, and he YLEO-ed my headache away with Stress Away and M-Grain. Not bad la his kanghu. After that I really felt much, much better. Best part was that he didn't even rush through it. Just took his time and did his thang. Haha. Gotta take advantage of this skill he's got and get him to massage me more next time! =p

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So, yes. It may not be easy being married to the same man for 5 years. But The Husband sure makes it feel so easy for me on days such as these. =)

And Now We're 5

Not literally though. Relax. Not ready for THAT ship to sail yet. Am still paying instalment on the last two "ships" we "bought". LOL. #funnybutnotfunny

I actually spent the day doing exactly what I would have done on any other regular Saturday – doing nothing worth remembering in the greater scheme of things, and yet physically, mentally and emotionally feeling like I've just spent the day doing more than I can remember.


Having two kids and a looong holiday is no joke, man. I'm just knackered day in and day out. Doesn't help that the kids picked up some kind of virus a week back so it's been nightly fevers + running noses + thickening mucous + phlegmy coughs + midnight tantrums + fussy fellas... OMG I CANNOT TAKE IT!!! -__-'''''

So anyhew... just 5 years down the road

and The Husband and I already be like:

"Can postpone celebration ah?"

Seriously. Cos... Romance?

What's that after kids, right? Haha.

Truth be told, we're all down with the kids' mutated virus that just refuses to die. That and, more relevantly, babysitters are nowhere to be found within 350km radius of us and our two kiddos so... bye-bye anniversary celebrations. See you in October. Maybe. (Yeah, no kidding when I say it's a looong postponement. -_-')


Anyhoo, I thought we could make this year a little more special since it's our 5th (read: wooden) anniversary and all but I guess... it wasn't gonna be a magical-wood-found-deep-within-the-Enchanted-Forest kind of celebration for us. More like dead-wood-found-floating-on-the-Dead-Sea, as it turns out. LOL.


I'll update come October. IF October happens, that is. (I deeply suspect it's never gonna. T_T) In the mean time, The Husband says this *points below* is his anniversary gift to me this year.

Guess it's better than unwrapping

a vacuum cleaner anniversary gift, right? =p

Yep, Imma count my blessings.

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Happy 5th Anniversary, Honey.

Pandan Sponge Cake from House, BSC.

I'm thankful it's you I share

moist Pandan Sponge Cakes with.

Today, tomorrow and always.

XOXO,

Pam Song

My Thoughts On Being A Mom

Being a mom means having to sacrifice your time, your energy, your career, your hobbies, your health, your beauty, and sometimes even your sanity for the sake of another whom you consider more precious than yourself. With just one child under my wing, already I feel like I've given all I have to give. Yet, daily, I find myself continually giving more and more. And then, when I'm all dried up and tired out from giving, I dig down deep and give some more.

Being a mom also means that I often leave the house with crazy hair, with my glasses perpetually covered in fingerprints, and with zero accessories on. I feel eternally sleep deprived and I can't really remember what it's like getting more than 2 to 3 hours of sleep in a stretch, day or night. The skin on my face is disgustingly dry and flakey because I just couldn't be bothered to make time to tone or moisturise anymore. And since we're at it, I also haven't had a facial in goodness knows how long. Oh, and because I nurse, I don't get to dress up in pretty dresses anymore either. Heck, I never get to wear dresses, period! 

But because I am a breastfeeding mom, I also have the opportunity to experience and understand what selflessness and sacrifice is, too. Because of this, I can honestly say that I am thankful for small hands that grab at my hair, tiny fingers and thumbs that cover my glasses in fingerprints, and baby skin that I have to be careful not to scratch or hurt with earrings, rings or watches. Every day, I put my baby to sleep at the expense of my own rest, and rub lotion on skin that's a million times softer and smoother than my own. And I'm grateful that my clothes are limited by the fact that I am able to fully breastfeed my son and raise him on milk that's made just for him. 

Almost 8 months since my induction into this crazy club, I confess that I've learned it's not always easy being a mom. Sure, roughing it out in the real world all day long is tough; meeting deadlines, preparing presentations and making sales. But I personally think it's tougher when it's your whole world you're caring for 24/7. I don't know how celebrity power moms do it and still look like a million bucks while they're at it. This motherhood thing, it's hard work! Work that comes with no day-offs, no MCs, no public holidays, and no weekends. It's incredibly demanding and unbelievably exhausting. But thankfully, it's supremely rewarding, too. =)

Shen + Pam Turn 2!

2-years-old with an 8-month honeymoon, followed by a 9-month pregnancy, resulting in a 7.5-month-old baby boy. I don't know about you but if you ask me, I think Shen + Pam have done pretty well thus far. =)

Shen + Pam on Sunday, 3 July 2011

just hours before our ROM.

Thoughts At 4AM

When I first met him and laid eyes on him, he was just a tiny, little, wobbly lump of flesh and soft bones called "Baby" who did nothing much of anything but cry, eat, sleep and poop – and not necessarily in that order – morning, noon and night.


Fast forward 2 months down the road, and sure, there's still a significant amount of crying, eating, sleeping and pooping. But this baby has also grown to be an opinionated little man with a mind of his own, a strong will and a truckload of wants. Who at the same time, is still so very vulnerable, helpless and dependent in every way imaginable.


Because of that, day in and day out, I am given the honour of playing the saviour; his ultimate hero. Sweeping in like a knight in shining armor, each and every time, at every whimper or cry, to fulfill his every need, want and desire. A part of me is throughly fatigued from having to live my life in total servitude to another... but the bigger part of me knows that this – all of this – is temporary.


In contrary to what you may think, no matter how tired I feel right now, I no longer find joy in the knowledge that this will all be over soon. For I know, I know, I know that this is only but a fleeting moment in time when this tiny little being that demands so much of me, that I love with all my heart, still needs me, wants me, adores me and finds comfort in me... like he probably never will again. ='( At least not to this degree – of that I'm sure.


So... I treasure these quiet one-to-one moments that the two of us share in the dead of the night, as his Papa lies sleeping beside us. I smile a sad smile only the darkness can see, hold my sweet, sleeping baby boy closer to my bosom, bury my nose into his head full of hair and take in his oh-so-familiar baby smell I know so well. A queer scent unique to him that I pray I never will forget.


And then, for 45 precious minutes, I relish the feeling and find contentment in holding his limp, relaxed, semi-sleeping body in my arms and bask in the knowledge that from now until forever, I am giving him something no other human being – not his father, not his grandparents, not his friends, not even his future wife – will ever be able to offer him.


Then I pray and thank God that even when my son eventually does grow out of this needy, clingy, need-me-so somewhere-in-between age and becomes my not-so-little baby of 2 feet tall who runs around and drives me crazy with his new-found "independence", I will always have sweet memories like these to hold on to, look back on with great fondness and shed a happy-nostalgic tear at. =')