The other day, I was trying to find my old blog and had a moment of panic when I couldn’t find it. You see I have always wanted to export the contents of my blog into hard copy. For memories sale. Like how I keep my old journals/diaries still. But that project never took off.

Finally, I found it and exported it into pdf. So happy, it is saved now! 11 years of writing and pictures. It’s amazing how I’ve been blogging since 2001. That’s 14 years of blogging!! My writing has changed as well, or perhaps my priorities and responsibilities have changed now. There’s less exclamation marks for sure lol. I look at the young ones(by that I mean those still in uni) and they are so upbeat and excited. That’s how my writings were then.

Anyway there are some stuff that I still stand by with.

Wrote this on October 20, 2006:

“It has taken me YEARS to realise how grateful I should be to my parents. I have always looked at myself as the daddy’s girl. I look up to him so much and we are alike in so many ways that I get attached to him. When I was a kid and after he scolded me, I would go to my room and cry my hearts out. But before long, he would come in and invite me for icecream/makan luar/dinner and I know it’s his way of a peace offering. He always knew how to make me smile, doing all these sweet things like buying me gardenia bean paste bun when he came here.

On the other hand, when I was a teenager, I could easily get annoyed at my mother. As I grow older, people commented that I look more and more like her, which infrutiated me. I would get annoyed when she told me to clean my room, cut my hair, buy this kain and this and that. When she likes big flowers, I like small. When she wants me to wear this, I want to wear that. She was different from my father, which to me, meant that she was different from me. It was only till that I came here that I begin to realise how much my mother laboured for me (if there is such a sentence). All the times she cooked in the early mornings before work just to feed us, when she would sleep in my bed whenever I was ill, when she made this beautiful flower piece in primary school, when she sew my trousers. All the little things that my memory seems to forget.

And then, I realise that I wish I was more like her. That I can one day be super-mum too. My mum (in a kambang tone, I cant help it) is the best cook and baker. She can sew, knit, whatever every woman from a finishing school can do, she can do it too. She maintains an immaculate house that whenever she starts spring-cleaning, I get worried for my belongings. Mama finished from high school at an early age. She didnt go to university, she didnt learn english language properly, she is very technology-illiterate (yes, even more than me). But she worked as a great nurse, and I knew this because whenever I medic-talk, she would always give me the right answers. I think, how can my mum do all these things, take care of a husband, 4 children and yet have time for everything else?”

I have to go now. Ayman crying.

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