Sunday, 10th May 2026

I counted my week starting from Monday. So Sunday is the last day and I felt this was the worst day of the week- in term of my relationship with C.

It got better end of last week, where i was holding a tension towards his dad, G. I composed myself better, didn’t shout so much, didn’t get provoked so much. I saw a better version of myself.

Indeed, today was terribly disappointing then. The wave of memories splashing hard on me. I will be hurling hurtful words again. But then it reminded me that I got better last week. I can learn to go back to “last week” me again. Dropping from the beam of “perfect me” doesn’t mean I become a failure. I think it just means I am moving, and it will not be perfect forever. I know I can walk up there on that beam, so I will get myself back up again, and function again.

Is this what the Lord wants for me? Is this the right thinking? Well one thing I can identify is my metaphor doesn’t involve God. So where is God, Ta?

The beam is likened unto motherhood journey. God made it there, God put you there. So why the whole time i feel like i am walking under the beam, not knowing that the beam is the place i should be walking and not the floor?

Another stupid mother’s day event. I was eating spaghetti with M. He was a sweet heart but food wasn’t salty enough. so I asked the helper to give me salt grinder and let Micah help me.

He keep grinding to his plate, i move my plate so the salt didn’t get too much into his bowl, but move to my bowl. But my hand missed and my bowl dropped to the floor, broken. I asked him, “Happy?” he shook his head. “I’ve told you to stop but you didn’t listen.”

I felt like. I couldn’t love him. I don’t want to love him because his disobedient has caused something to be broken. Because his disobedient has bear fruit. I left. I went into the room and write this. I’m still dead hungry. I felt like this is the time he need a hug to be stronger, knowing that even if he make mistakes, he is still loved.

But I disagree. I made many mistakes and I am not loved. I don’t know maybe I didn’t really make mistakes but I am not loved. Or I made so many things I thought they are not wrong, but to dad’s eyes, it’s mistake and I am not loved. That feeling of I am not loved makes me wanna remind everyone if you don’t behave, you are not loved. I am already not loved whatever I do, so I want to remind you that if you do worse than me, you will not be loved.

In this journey, I am very much in a black or white thinking, but at least the improvement i made was a dark shade of grey start to be able to be distinguished away from black. Black is being hated and white is I don’t know. Clear? Good? Loved? Accepted? Just pass. Nothing special.

Micah came into my room and I asked him to go out.

I felt like. I am white to my husband. Any shade of white, I am not fussy. Dirty white also can as long as in a glance everyone can agree that it’s white. I am black to my parents. I doesn’t matter. I am just another person just happened to share the blood with them. Dwelling in this black, I am filthy. I am bad with other people. At work, I don’t give my all. When mistakes happen, I gave so many excuses. If they got angry with me, I’ll fix it. If they aren’t, more small mistakes will happen and more excuses will bee made. These mistakes are small. like small colourful aquarium pebbles. Not significant. I will overlook all these pebbles if other people do it to me. I am forgiving if someone get my order wrong, made me wait very long because they have forgotten or missed it. I hope people do it too. These are my dark dark grey. They don’t hate me but just happened, that they have to deal with me and my nonsense. I am not hated but they aren’t pleased to deal with this.

I think I tried to test everyone’s boundary by making this small small mistakes, to see where I am accepted. If I’m not, then I’ll fix it. If I am, then I’ll try to poke you further. I am also very very triggered by Singapore culture. People got mad over such simple thing. Couldn’t believe it. I think probably it is because I felt so rejected in this country. Like any mistakes I’ll be cursed. Indonesia is more forgiving because.. “What else can you do.”

Husband asked me to settle M. But I told him I don’t know how to love him. I am just trying not to be angry. I am angry and upset. So I turn down my anger and feeling of being upset so I don’t react or take action. But also how to feel love? I think love and forgiveness is so far. I need to tame my anger first before I can love? Like you have to calm down first then can function? But to calm down you have to let the emotion burn and tame it down? otherwise nothing to tame, nothing else to do.

But this reminded me of husband’s boss hor. Made husband so angry and sent an email. But then boss’ fire just died like that. anticlimax. Hahaha. There are just so many broken people like me. Poking the same strong people. 😛

Anyway. M try his way in with me very gently. But I wasn’t ready. I have no intention to be ready for him. It triggers a whole feeling of I don’t want to be a mom. I hate writing it. I hate if it becomes a fact. What if I am just a caregiver. For someone who happens to share the same blood. I don’t know where to start. Whether I have to correct M, or connect? What to connect? It’s just a child’s mischief or disobedient that is very natural and our job as parent is to guide them to learn to obey. But i think a lot of part that happened just now was accident. But it made me very upset.

He still trying, so he came to my room and gave me 2 pieces of small bread, telling me I can eat it. I hug him and cried. It felt very very heavy. Very heavy to put on those small shoulders. I hugged him tight and pat him, and those little hands pat me back. I thought i felt some wetness. After I’m done crying, I look at him and realised it was his mouth an saliva. -.-

But yeah. It was heavy. It was hard to learn to love.

He came and brought me two pieces of small bread from dining table. “This is for you. You can eat them, mama.”

I sat on a dark grey rectangular plastic stool and ask him to come to me. Hugged him and cried. My head felt heavy and my jaw feel tight. “I am sorry I was so angry just now. It is okay about the salt and it is okay about the bowl. I love you, M.” “I am sorry mama. I love you mama.” He replied softly. He also returned my back rub and tight hug.