It was just an ordinary Thursday, starting with the usual morning school run, followed by a pickup, and a few errands to check off the list before the end of the day. I was at my parents’ place with my husband and brother, helping move furniture around and to de-clutter, while planning the upcoming end-of-month activities with my parents since my daughter will be on school holidays. A few productive hours in, my mother received a video call from her sisters, making that Thursday the one I will always remember.

“I think you guys should come to the house. Now.”

At that moment we became quiet. In fact, I’m pretty sure we didn’t move.

“What happened exactly?” we asked.

Without going into too much detail, my 93-year-old grandmother, the matriarch of my mom’s side of the family, was coming close to the end of her life. We didn’t really know it at the time, but we sensed the urgency from what had transpired. Not long after that, the text message came in to the family chat group, summoning everyone: her 5 daughters, 5 sons-in-law, 19 grandchildren, 10 grandchildren-in-law, and 5 great-grandchildren, who all turned up. This was no ordinary Thursday. Later that evening, she passed away peacefully, surrounded by her whole family.

After she passed, we told our granddad, and all he said was, “I had been married for a very long time.” It was indeed a long time; it would have been 69 years this year. When we took him to see her before prayers, he teared knowing full well that he had just lost his best friend, his wife.

It had taken me a while to pen this down. In fact, as I was actually halfway through writing this article, and in the midst of grieving for the loss of our grandmother, our grandfather, aged 91, was admitted to the hospital a week after her death. Initially, he seemed to have recovered slightly, only for it to take a turn for the worse and once again, the family was summoned. He passed away on that Monday morning. And as fate had decided, they were both laid to rest next to each other. Talk about being meant to be in this life and the next.

My purpose for writing this is to give myself space to mourn and to celebrate the lives that shaped mine. We didn’t just love them because they were our grandparents; we loved them because of who they were as people. They both led such full, incredible lives, who had the best stories to share, were always up for a laugh or a song, and they cared very much about their family, all 44 of us (not including their siblings, nieces and nephews). Clearly, we come from a pretty massive family. And it wasn’t until my cousin-in-law Yasmine said, “You know, without Tok Man and Tok Zain, none of us would be here”. It was what she said that inspired me to write. So here I am, sharing a story about my grandparents.

My grandmother, was a force of nature of a woman, and growing up, she was very loving and caring, yet she was quite strict with us. But honestly, what do you expect? She was one of the eldest of 18 children; she was a Headmistress and a sports teacher, and at some point in her life when she lived in New Zealand with my grandad (he was an Education Attaché for the Malaysian Students Department there), she used to host many dinners for students who would go over to visit their house.

It’s no wonder that what we experienced from her when we were growing up was that everything had to be clean, in order, and whenever people wanted to drop by, she would always ask, “How many people are we expecting, and what are we preparing for them to eat?”

She cooked some of the most memorable dishes that I will miss greatly, and imparted the best cooking advice I still live by that is also meant to be applied to life. She would say…

“Kita buat dia, bukan dia buat kita.” Which sums up to be, don’t worry. Because we make it, it doesn’t make us.

She spent a lot of time completing search puzzle books, and she ADORED singing. In her youth, she was a Radio Singapore singer, and best believe, her love for music had been passed down to her daughters and grandchildren, as we enjoy bursting into song in every single opportunity. She also really loved watching my cousins perform when they sang together as a band.

Music was also a shared passion with my grandfather, as they made it a point to have us listen to the radio, particularly Keroncong music in the evenings as they both hummed and sang together to wind down for the day.

My grandad, whom I always called the Number 3 man in my life, was always so chatty. He used to share his adventures as a young man, from his Boy Scouts days, his hitchhiking stints, his favourite finds in the Reader’s Digest and the encyclopaedia, and little unexpected things he noticed on a daily basis. One of my favourites was when he counted the number of times the neighbour’s peacock (yes, an actual peacock) would *call. He said it was 5 times.

*That’s literally what the sound peacocks make are called!

We loved to joke that one of his favourite pastimes was napping before we sat at the dining room for some tea and snacks. He taught himself to play the piano and the guitar, and taught us not to take life too seriously.

They were both people of faith, and as Muslims, they taught us to always trust in God, to look at life as glass half full, to treat people with honesty and kindness, and to do good to others without expecting anything in return.

They both had a lot of love and respect for each other, were eloquent and fantastic communicators, and made it a point to always be a student of life. They were, to everyone, the ultimate couple goals. How they saw and treated each other is something so hard to come by these days. Their passing away just 11 days apart from each other just shows how close their relationship was.

I know Mama’s Here is a channel that shares open and honest stories about motherhood, and while this might not seem like it, I feel the need to share this personal experience, as these are the two people that really set the foundation for all of our families. And now that I have my own, there were so many amazing bits of habits and wisdom from their lives that I would proudly impart to my family. It wouldn’t matter to me if it seemed old-fashioned, because we knew exactly who they were. They were GOOD people, and they really LIVED.

I could spend hours talking about how incredible they were, how much we will miss them, and how big a loss it is not only for their daughters but for everyone who had crossed paths with them. Death will always be a reminder for the living, and I am eternally grateful to have had them. As they lay in their final resting place, their memories live on in every teatime, every search puzzle, every nap, and every time we listen to Keroncong music.

Al-Fatihah to my grandparents, Hj Othman Dahlan and Hjh Zain Sheikh Mansore.

As mothers, it’s quite a norm for us to be overloaded with thoughts and concerns, and usually, the place we find the answers to our questions is on social media. Instagram, TikTok, Google…the hacks, top 5’s, tips and tricks…all the answers at the tip of our fingers. However, we have been warned about what we consume on the internet, because the hundreds and thousands of reels could leave us information-fatigued, sometimes to more confusion, or worse, it could lead us to thinking that we are not doing a good job as parents.

I told myself to take whatever I see online with a pinch of salt. But I came across a post that changed my life. After I tried and tested it, I felt compelled to write about it and to give it a bit of a backstory. So let’s go back to earlier this year, when my husband and I enrolled our daughter in kindergarten.

I had written an article describing the process of finding a school for my daughter to be a daunting experience (if you wanna know more, you can read it here), but what I was NOT prepared for was what actually happens AFTER your kid goes to school. As in, it’s 8.30am, you’ve dropped her off, now what?

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Just a disclaimer, I’m a freelancer, and while some parents have offices to go to, most of the work I do is from home. So naturally I’d want to kill as many birds with one stone to be productive, a.k.a. complete house chores and do plenty of work, all before pick up time.

The first week was really about setting a new routine for school days. That looked like:

• School bag and snacks are prepared the night before because it saves time.

• Wake the child up or see the child waiting for me to wake up.

• Convince her to brush her teeth and have a bath, run her one, sing songs and play before setting a 5-minute timer to get out. While that’s happening;

• Make breakfast

• Convince her to get out of the bath after the timer goes off.

• Wrap her in a towel, pick up dirty clothes, and empty the bath water.

• Pick an outfit and get dressed.

• Sit down and have breakfast while I do her hair and wash the dishes.

• Put her socks on

• Tidy up her breakfast, wash the dishes and set off for school.

Extensive? Yes. I thought it was something I needed to get used to, so that after drop-off, I would be ready to take on the day with whatever backdated chores or work I could do. After a month of this routine, I started to notice that, due to having completed my old to-do list, I had a bit of “freer” time, and I felt the need to do more. So I was still moving fast and finding things I didn’t necessarily have to do at that moment, but that resulted in me being SO EXHAUSTED by the time I had to pick up my daughter from school. And throughout the day, I either get easily irritated and impatient whenever things don’t move quickly enough. Plus, it stopped being enjoyable, so something had to change.

I decided to switch things up by doing the same routine, EXCEPT by spacing it out throughout the morning till pick up time. It was my way to slow down a little, and maybe that way I wouldn’t feel so irritated if my daughter was taking her own sweet time. There was definitely improvement; mornings became slower and easier, but after drop-off, I would get back into fast mode. The house would get tidied up with great speed, then I’ll start on whatever pending work I have, etc., etc.

I think my logic for finishing everything as fast as possible was really because I wanted to “relax” with my daughter after school. Then 2 months went by, and I started to notice my body going into this weird nervous anxiety. It felt as though at any idle moment I had to force myself to find something productive to do, but by that point I was supremely pooped that all I ended up doing was mentally checking out by doom scrolling, feeling immense guilt for not being productive, not paying attention to my daughter, and there goes the spiral.

Then it ends up FULLY crippling me that all the chores and work pile up again, and my Instagram notification kept popping up, “ You have exceeded your 1 hour on Instagram, do you want to add 5 minutes, 15 minutes or ignore this?” It’s only 10am, and I’ve been on Instagram for an hour??? The self-loathing continues.

Then I came across this reel from BigLittleFeelings (an awesome account for motherhood/parenting btw), and it showed Deena Margolin (a therapist and one of the founders), doing chores, brushing her hair, tying her shoelaces really really quickly, with a caption that says “When you remember you aren’t being chased by a bear” and she proceeds to INTENTIONALLY SLOW DOWN when she’s doing all of those things. Here’s the link to the post.

I couldn’t stop watching that video on repeat because I didn’t realise that’s what I looked like whenever I did things. Like, why was I moving so quickly? Why did I pretend like I was being chased by a bear?

She learned this from Jennifer Ann (@jenniferanncounsellor), who shared this after discussing her client’s favourite coping tools to communicate more safety to their nervous system.

You wot? Nervous system? What’s that got to do with anything?

So apparently, if you are constantly rushing, it could signal danger to your nervous system, almost like your body is being pushed into fight or flight mode.

I didn’t realise how quickly the nervous system responds to urgency. When your body senses stress, the sympathetic nervous system can switch on the fight or flight response, raising your heart rate, sharpening alertness, and tensing your muscles. So when I’m rushing around like I’m being chased by a bear, my body might actually be getting the message that I’m not safe.

I swear it looked like a mirror every time I watched that reel, and it started to make sense as to why I felt that anxiousness. It’s not because I felt like I wasn’t doing enough. It was because I made my body believe that I wasn’t entirely safe because of how fast I was moving for no apparent reason. So I tried doing exactly that, to intentionally slow down every time I catch myself moving so quickly.

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I had plenty of opportunities to practice because I never noticed the urgency I placed when doing something as mundane as wiping a table or googling something online. At first, in my head, I thought I was wasting time, but the reality was that I would only be saving between 30 seconds and 1 minute for each task. IS THAT ALL??? It was bizarre how doing this for over 2 months made a real difference, as I became more mindful of my anxieties if they creep up. I’d ask myself, am I actually stressed about something specific, or am I putting myself in a position to make me THINK that I am stressed out?

I even started to wonder, why do we feel the need to be productive ALL the time? Is it the only way we feel like we have control over things?

At the moment, I’m moving at a decent speed, not turtle-like but slow enough that I’m giving grace to my nervous system, and that’s exactly what we all need.

I always thought that when it comes to being hard on yourself, it’s usually to do with the way we think or speak about ourselves. Little did I know that something awesome came out from Instagram that has made me learn that it’s not just about using kind words and thoughts, but it’s also about being kind to your nervous system by slowing down every once in a while.

It is said that most female friendships exist in threes. I am fortunate enough to be a part of three such trios. One of these trios contains my absolutely closest friend whom I’ve known since we were 16 years old and a friend that I made in my foundation year of university when I was only 18 years old. The former is my children’s godmother, whom I see on a fairly regular basis, who is a permanent fixture in my life, so much so that people would ask questions if they see her absent at any of my life events. The latter lives on the other side of the Klang Valley, has obligations to her mother, and I only see her four times a year (if I am lucky).

On the rare occasion when the stars align & this particular trio convenes, something magical happens. As a mother of three (14, 10 and 6 year olds), a wife, a producer, a project manager and friend to other people, my day-to-day tends to look insane with a flurry of to-dos with meetings and errands sprinkled in. However, when I step into a room to meet these two women I have known half of my life, something shifts. The weight of my responsibilities melt away, drowned out by the sounds of their laughter, and for just a few moments, a version of me long dormant awakens and I am allowed to just be a girl.

Having the wisdom of a woman in her thirties but being in the company of your friends who awaken your inner girl is a special thing. You can empathise with each other’s adult problems and not sweat the small stuff (like when your friend is three hours late because she is finishing up meetings even though she’s taken half the day off) but have just the right amount of carefree attitude to stay up way past your usual bedtime whilst on staycation to watch Chad Michael Murray’s smoulder on-screen and shout about it.

You exist in a sacred space where the people around you are focused only on you and nothing else matters. You can say whatever you want knowing that nothing you say will be misinterpreted or wrong, because these people have known you since before you knew how to express things properly, so when they say “I know what you mean”, they really do know, because they know you. You will listen and hang onto their every word because you know the advice they are giving you is not just on the surface, but comes from layers of depth with deep analysis, because they know your history and your character evolution so well.

A tribe of females like that is hard to come by, because not all friends will make it past every stage of life. Some people are site-specific, that fall away after you no longer exist within the same ecosystem. Others get left behind, choosing not to evolve together or at all. Some may become different people, leaving you behind because your ideals no longer fit each other. So friends who survive several different stages of life are a niche collector’s item that I am very fortunate to have.

It is painful growing apart from friends you once thought would be with you for many years. However, the growing pain of outgrowing friendships that no longer serve you is one that is necessary in order to move forward. I often reminisce simpler times with people who are no longer in my life, and sometimes stumble upon things that make me want to reconnect, knowing however that the girl I once loved & adored is no longer the same woman that exists now. Which is why the trio friendships that I do have now are so much more important to me.

Sometimes, I get swept up in the daily ins and outs of motherhood and forget to empathise with my children and what they’re going through individually. What I as a 34-year old woman think is silly or irrelevant is currently their entire world, and it’s easy to forget that as adults. The all-consuming way of life that exists only in your teens, where everything is do or die. The way the world is so small yet all the stakes seem so high, that any incident could be a make or break situation. We adults brush all this off because we have forgotten what it was like.

In the limited hours that I spend in this particular trio, I often look at these two women and reflect on how far we’ve come and the things we have gotten each other through (them for me mostly). I am brought back to when my children’s godmother was just my bestest friend, who took a bus from her university and then walked along a highway to get to my house. To when my friend from university would saunter into my dorm room on a Sunday night to eat snacks my mother had packed for me. To when very little mattered to us but each other and the menial small responsibilities we had.

And with all that girlhood energy, I return to my family with a renewed sense of empathy and understanding, particularly for my 14-year old daughter, who is going through girlhood herself. It reminds me of what it was like to be young which in turn reminds me to be cautious of dismissing my teenager’s interests and desires because they are unrelatable. It reminds me to be quietly supportive of her tumultuous emotions and not to take it personally.

It is easy to get overwhelmed as a parent and as a woman. Time with old friends offer a small reprieve from the world, and helps me recenter and refocus. The ease of which we melt into each other’s conversation and crack new jokes make it seem like maybe - just maybe - life doesn’t have to be so hard, because after all, at the end of the day, we’re all just girls.

My biggest struggle in motherhood, besides the ever present guilt, is this guilt about wanting certain things that do not involve my daughter.

I feel bad about it. And yet, I have also realised that it is important to have things that do not revolve around her.

I want to work. I want to do the things I used to do before I was pregnant.

Before motherhood, I did a few different jobs. I was a physiotherapist. I worked in events. And then when I got pregnant, all of that stopped. For some reason, people seemed to think I was no longer capable of doing these things.

That took a hit on my ego.

Because I was capable. I could do all of those things. And when the baby came along, I kept thinking about how I wanted to go back to those parts of my life. Those were the times when I felt at my best. I knew I could do a lot of different things.

Now, I am doing a completely new set of things. And that is not a bad thing either. I like to think that I am a good learner. I learn things very quickly. Becoming an English teacher was not something I ever imagined for myself, but here I am.

Still, it feels like a struggle.

Every day, I think about the life I had before. And while I am thinking about it, I feel really bad. I tell myself it is not fair to her. I wanted her. I chose to bring her into this world. And yet sometimes I feel like because of her, I cannot do certain things.

Then I wonder if other people feel this way too.

Because everyone else seems to have it together. Everyone looks like they are managing just fine. Maybe not everyone, but that is what social media shows us. You see what people choose to show, and you assume they have it all figured out.

#RealMomRealities

#RealMomRealitiesAnonymous

It’s a brand new year! And as if 2025 wasn’t crazy enough, needless to say, it has been an overwhelming, adventurous start to the new year already. And I don’t say this lightly because it’s ONLY day 9 of 2026!

My daughter turned 3 in November, and just this week, she started school for the first time. It is day 5, and after our morning routine of getting her ready, dropping her off, and watching her dramatically run into school screaming and crying, I go home, pour myself a cup of tea, and find myself sitting at my table, staring into space, suddenly realising that I have entered a new era in life.

The “I have several hours before I have to pick my kid up from school” era.

Over the first four days, those hours were filled with catching up on pending work and errands, but today was different. I actually had quiet time and started reflecting a little on our morning routine. This morning, after telling her she had to go to school, she told me, “No, I don’t want to.” I didn’t get mad. In fact, I laughed and nearly cried a little, because here in front of me was a three-year-old, negotiating and buying time before having to get ready for school.

I think as a parent, one of the things we often think or say is… how time flies so fast. And every year, we face a new set of challenges. My friend Emily, who has done an amazing job raising her son, says that the old processes and systems she used to apply in parenting don’t work anymore because her son is also changing and reaching different developmental stages. This is true for every child, but then it got me thinking about us mothers and fathers. Surely our processes and systems need changing too, and one way to do so is to frequently, if not yearly, reflect on our parenting journey, like our very own docuseries of Parenting: Through The Years.

(Cue in dramatic ’90s documentary intro music.)

Before we get started, it is important for us to have at least a few hours of uninterrupted (is this possible?) time, which is why my favourite time to ponder is:

• After school drop-offs

• Late night after the kids are sleeping

• When stuck in traffic in the car alone

• On the toilet? (If you’re the type to spend 30 minutes in there)

It’s important to make the right reflections on your parenting journey, and one starting point is knowing how to reflect. If you want to get technical about it, you can check out Gibbs’ Reflective Cycle. It is one of the most well-known cyclical models of reflection, leading you through six stages of exploring an experience: description, feelings, evaluation, analysis, conclusion, and action plan (as stated on the website).

Reflection looks different for everyone because it comes from personal experience. What matters most is this: reflecting is about how you feel, not what they did. So we’re not about to point fingers at anyone, no matter how tempting it might be.

And while I invite you to take a moment to reflect on your parenting journey, I’d like to share some of mine, based on my experience.

Year One (0–1)

The first year taught me a lot about taking better care of myself. The most common things to happen in the newborn phase are the lack of sleep, the change in hormones, wanting to take charge of everything because no one can do it better than you, and the belief that the baby comes first while the shower comes later, or sometimes not at all. I miss this phase, and I don’t at the same time, because while I enjoyed how tiny my daughter was, I hated how much I neglected to feed myself well or just love myself a little better. And honestly, it’s not even about “me time”. I wish I hadn’t insisted on doing everything alone when I could have incorporated something like yoga or walking with my baby. I felt like I made so many excuses, when the reality was that I just didn’t love myself that much.

Year Two (1–2)

During the second year, things got so much better in the self-care and delegation category. As I watched my daughter grow, it felt natural to want to spend time with people who could grow with her, and with myself too. The major theme that year was friendship, as some friendships were made and others broken. Based on my personal experience, making a mom friend who eventually becomes part of your inner circle is not easy. I think I forgot that just because other moms might understand what you’re going through, the reality is that they are still very different people. So the same rules of friendship apply. Do you share the same values and principles? Or even more simply, what are you looking for in a friendship?

Year Three (2–3)

Then there was year three. We got lucky that we missed out on the terrible twos for most of the year. But I think the focus during this phase was on how, whether they realised it or not, there is a sense of expectation from society. And the reality is that it doesn’t always translate to what you think your idea of success should be. That year, I learned that my definition of success was to take things one step at a time, at a slower pace, so I could appreciate every moment.

All in all, it the past 3 years have been beautiful. And even though every year may feel like its own challenge, at the end of the day, it brings us wisdom, and every story fills a chapter in the journey of our lives.

What has your journey looked like? Comment below and let me know!

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I remember in my first year of motherhood, I was hanging out with some mom friends who had kids a few years older than my daughter. One of my favourite things about spending time with an *experienced mom* was the accessibility to ask about what to potentially expect in that future phase of life, how they dealt with those things, and being able to reflect on their experience and choose how I would apply that to my own journey in motherhood.

*Experienced mom: Moms who have had children for x amount of years longer than you have.*

Most of the time, leaving them made me feel a lot more encouraged and mentally prepared for what is to come in motherhood, except for one thing: School. As soon as I got to that subject matter, my brain literally became tersekat. Why? Because everyone has a different take on what kind of education their kids should receive. And basically you are on your own. And you have to start asking yourself these questions:

1) How old do you want to send your kid to school?
2) Which kindergarten should you choose?
3) Should it be more montessori or academic?
4) Which primary school did you have in mind to send her to?
5) Is she going to a government school or private or international school?
6) Can you even afford private or international school?
7) Will you be able to afford for her to go to college abroad so is it even necessary to consider international stream?
8) Should I just homeschool them instead?
9) She is only three, is she not too young for me to have this discussion?

And the list goes onnnnnn. If you can relate to this feeling, join the club.

I always promised myself to have a more casual approach in a lot of things since I became a mom, but this one made me feel uneasy, and it certainly needed more thought process, reasoning, and attention.

Why? Well, apart from the obvious: your child will spend a lot of time there, I have my reasons why I feel confused about this.

You see, the majority of my education was in a government school, and I had the privilege to experience a private school setting in Form 4 and Form 5. So I am very lucky to have experienced both worlds, but that is exactly what it is. They are two worlds apart.

While each school had their strengths and weaknesses, looking back now, to be honest, I would not have changed anything about the school per se, but more on how I could have benefitted from it.

As a kid, I was the type who did not pay a lot of attention, sometimes I ponteng sekolah, barely finished my homework, but there were moments where I would get involved in a lot of extra curricular activities, I even joined a few competitions here and there, and I did well in some subjects more than others.

Friendship wise, I am still friends with my friends from both schools. I am very grateful for that. So all in all I had a decent experience.

But here is the big but.

Every kid has very very very different needs, and certainly has very very different learning styles. And it took me about fifteen years after SPM to learn; what I had experienced in both schools was NOT my learning style.

In case you’re not familiar with learning styles, here’s a list below:

Types of learning styles

Visual: Do they learn best by looking at charts, diagrams, pictures, or books? Do they prefer to read or see instructions?
Auditory: Do they enjoy listening to stories, music, or conversations? Do they remember information better after hearing it spoken aloud?
Kinesthetic: Are they hands on learners who learn by doing? Do they prefer activities like building, drawing, or playing sports?
Logical: Do they enjoy categorising things, solving puzzles, or recognising patterns?

Not to say that I have actually identified MY learning style, but is this not exactly what we need?

For our kids to determine what is the best school environment to send them, and for the schools to know the kind of environment they can set for the kids?

Yes, there are a lot of obstacles, errors, or dislikes towards the education system, and our teachers have seen better days, and sometimes we have seen better teachers. But collectively as parents, what do you think?

I know ultimately, we have to work with what we have, as some of us are not as lucky to be able to give our children wide options on which school is best for them.

But maybe, just maybe, if we know who our kids are, like how we may have wished we knew ourselves when we were children, maybe we can make some difference.

That if we equipped them with the tools that are suited for them, that if we campak them into any school, they would be able to adapt and excel in the environment they are in.

At the end of the day, we are doing our best for them.
And as my dear friend Nash said,

“We want to raise our kids to be good people for society, that is a goal for a mom. We do not want to raise assholes.”

I think the main thing that has changed is that I was quite a people pleaser. But I think it is none of that anymore. I have no intention to please anyone anymore, because the goal for me back then, for most days of my life, was to just make everybody happy.

I do not need to settle. I do not need to put up with other people’s nonsense, because it does not make them happy.

Now, especially that I am a mother, I realise the need to please other people becomes a bit more obvious, because there is family or friends who demand so much from you. This is on top of this child you brought into the world and the lifestyle that you have.

But then I realised that sometimes it is just about what I need, what she needs, and what my family needs. This family I worked so hard to build. This family I wanted for so long. That is all.

So if they cannot jive with it, then it is okay. You can carry on and I will carry on, and we can all live our lives.

Somehow, as a mother, everybody expects you to bring your child everywhere, like parade her and be like, “Oh look look look look.”

I do not want to parade my child. I just want her to sleep, eat, be happy, and be comfortable. I do not need to focus on how you want her to be a certain way, or that I have to present her to be a certain way.

I think that was my biggest weakness. I was a major people pleaser. And I think it is because of my jobs, because I work in the service industry, so I am always out to please other people. But being a mom now, I do not want to. I cannot even find it in me to want to please anyone anymore, because it is so tiring, and I have to attend to everybody’s demands. And it is not like they want to attend to my demands.

If it is not important, if it is not necessary, and if it does not serve anybody in a positive way, then what is the point?

You nak jaga hati orang, ada orang nak tak jaga hati you? So that is that.

#RealMomRealities

#RealMomRealitiesAnonymous

My daughter turned 3 a few weeks ago, and looking back at all of the phases she and I went through, from before she was born to her first and second year, it’s super clear that she wasn’t the only one who changed and grew into herself. I did too, mentally and physically (lol).

When I was pregnant, I had promised myself to be that go-with-the-flow, low expectations, no fuss kind of mom. This was me knowing that I would probably be setting myself up for failure if I wanted to be supremely organized, house clean 24/7, aesthetically pleasing, top chef in the kitchen with abs.

(By the way, there’s no such thing as having it all at the same time.)

And to be honest with you, I thought I was doing a good job being that chill mom. But as my dear friend Catherine once told me, “For someone who seems chill, you have absolutely zero chill.” And my sister confirmed it when she said that as a mom, I am actually quite extra.

Really? Well, maybe? Could it be because I am always animated when I play with my daughter? Or that I take it to the next level of hanging up her artwork on the living room wall?*

Side note: there’s this super cool frame you can open to slip in all of your kid’s artwork to display, you can buy it on Shopee.

Or is it that I have a bunch of Pinterest boards curating ideas for her birthday, her bedroom design, etc. etc.? Oh my God, have I become that mom?

Not to say that moms who go above and beyond are a bad thing, but it’s not all that great either because in my 3 years of motherhood, this was one of the things I realised.

After becoming a mother, we look at time very differently.

Here’s a mini diagram:

This line represents time:

And there is only so much of it.

Half of it is meant to be allocated for your child, and the other half is for whatever it is you need to do: like shower, eat, sleep, meet up with friends, go to work, go to the gym (in whichever order is important to you), etc. etc.

Notice when we start looking at time like this, we realise we kinda have to compromise on wanting to have it all in one go, because it will seep into the time you’re meant to have with your kid.

And when we have waaaay too many things happening without any breathing room, we get burnt out.

And I’m curious, for every modern-day parent these days, what do we HONESTLY do when we’re burnt out?

No judgments, as I have done all of the above.

But what I found these days is that when people say they have concerns with kids having screen time, we should start being concerned as parents about how WE use screen time. And it got me thinking: way back when, what did we do pre-internet, pre-smartphones to manage burnout?

I feel like the common thing pre- and post-internet times is that when we have burnout, we need to overcompensate by LOOKING at something or DOING something.

Maybe pondering. Or tinkering with the random stuff you have at home, like looking at old memory boxes, decluttering, or flipping through old photo albums. You remember those, right?

I have a drawer full of printed photos, and it was nice just to sit down and look through them. To see all the people I still have in my life, and the people who came and went.

And lo and behold, 30 minutes had gone by.

That was when I realised: I’d be doing the same thing if I looked at the thousands of photos on my phone, but the difference is… other apps are far too accessible for me. And unfortunately I have no self control.

I don’t want to be a terrible influence on my daughter and that my life revolves around my phone in good times and bad times.

Even when it comes to going down memory lane.

It’s incredible that she actually asks to see pictures on my phone too as her way of reminiscing (yes, I know she’s 3), but it’s probably her secret way of having access to screen time.

So, I decided to bring back a photo album into our lives.

Every month, we get to print a few photos of her choice, so we can look through them together. Sure it’s additional effort, but there’s just something about quietly sitting down looking through something for about 20 minutes. And you can’t tell me it’s not actually a genius idea, because quiet time and no screen? Am I speaking to parents hello?

I’m no parenting expert but it is a fun project with your kids. I hope you get to bring back something small from your childhood to your own children whether it’s a photo album, listening to the stereo, or watching TV with ads.

It might seem extra, but it’s the best extra to do.

Every so often, a story lands in our inbox that feels honest in a way only motherhood can be. Not every story reflects every mom’s experience, but we believe in sharing them as they are.

I woke up today feeling supremely tired and crampy, and as I rolled over, my first instinct was to check the menstruation calendar. “Your period is due today,” it says. And lo and behold, there it was.

I don’t know what it is about post-pregnancy periods. It’s been three years since I’ve had my daughter, and somehow my period cramps and PMSes have become more intense. The hopeful part of me thought I could have a lie-in, but the upstairs neighbour is having his five-month proper renovation, so I knew that the sound of drilling and hacking was going to amplify a crappy feeling, and I just knew I needed to get out of the house.

But to be honest, there was nothing wrong with today at all. In fact, it was slow and yet productive. I got to spend it quietly as my daughter had a nap in the stroller for two hours, and I just proceeded to work on my laptop. But as it got later in the day, I could feel the cramps draining the energy out of me. My watch says, “You are stressed, and your body battery has been deducted by -7.” Yes, watch, I am having cramps, but that’s when I started to notice how short I was becoming.

I could feel the build-up of anger and my body heating up. My phone kept pinging because of work, and my daughter, who was initially quietly eating her food, noticed that I had been on my phone for too long and decided to climb on me and ask, “What’s that? What’s this? What’s that?” And then I snapped.

SIT DOWN.

That look on her face. Her eyes widened. She slowly backed away and sat down. And the stares from people, knowing that she absolutely, a thousand percent, did not deserve that. I felt like the biggest asshole in the world. And you could see that she felt like the tiniest person in the world. My heart broke, and then she cried.

I won’t go into further detail about what happened next, apart from the fact that I apologised profusely for snapping at her. But she just looked at me like, That was really mean, Mama. I felt so bad. I still feel bad thinking about it. And I can’t stop asking myself why I did it. How did it get to that?

Was it the PMS? Was it just me being completely unable to process and regulate my emotions that I would lash out at a three-year-old? I’m not sure why I’m sharing this right now. I’m not looking for any validation at this point, or even answers for that matter. I just feel like I am a terrible mother at the moment—specifically for doing what I did.

You know, it’s funny. If a mom were to tell me the exact same thing, I’d say, “Babe, you’re not a terrible mother.” But I think on top of that, now I would probably start off with, “OOF, babe, I know how that feels.” I know that feeling of having done something like this and the guilt. You’re not going to forget it. Even if you do, it comes back sometimes, and that little feeling of guilt returns. But you’re not a terrible mother. You’re just doing your best.

#RealMomRealities

#RealMomRealitiesAnonymous

Hi! Let’s get to know each other a little. My name is Diyana. I’m a mom of a 3-year-old daughter based in Kuala Lumpur. I don’t consider myself a founder of this channel, I’m just another mom who loves listening to other people’s journey in motherhood. So maybe a journalist and an editor..? Yes. That’s what I am.

Mama’s Here started off as a podcast, where I interviewed moms who shared their raw, unfiltered stories. There were a lot of laughs and some tears, but I think one of my biggest takeaways was just how beautiful it was to watch her share about her life. Because to her, it’s a norm, it’s not important, or it’s just not worth sharing. But that’s so not true.

There are definitely more mothers in this world who need to have their stories out there (not to bukak aib) but more to bukak cerita.

I mean, have you ever heard a story from another mom that suddenly gave you so much comfort because it made you feel like you weren’t the only one feeling a certain way? Or a story that became so important because that was the exact advice you didn’t know you needed?

That’s what Mama’s Here is about: mom stories that are relatable and probably a little bit unhinged. And we’re only doing our best here.

This space is also dedicated to my daughter, and to our daughters and sons, for when they one day become parents themselves. So they’ll know that these are our stories from the heart, as real and unhinged (in the best way) as can be.

So let me know if you ever want to share your stories, I’ll do my very best to hold space for you. Otherwise, tell me more about you! Where are you from?

Love,
Diyana

P.S. In case you’re not from Malaysia:
* bukak aib — open disgrace (lol)
* bukak cerita — open story