Happy Mummy's Day

"Yay - happy mummy day."

Vincent's MSN has the sweetest message I've ever read on a guy's profile, and got me reflecting for a while.

Here I am, fresh from a shower after dinner @ Nandos, swinging on my red "office" chair, snug and warm in my favourite over-large red hoodie and track bottoms. I ought to get back to quants but I want to blog for awhile about one of my favouritest persons on earth.

I really should start off by thanking my mum for the agonised hours she spent in labour just to have my bawling, bloody, wrinkled, miniature chimpanzee self pop out, not to mention the full nine months of tiresome gestation. Having said that, labour was a mere couple of hours and hardly labour at all due to her immensely high pain threshold. After inducing lazy me, and with a little bit of forcep assistance, I slipped out as easy as a seal flipping from its iceberg into the ocean. The 9 months of carrying me to full term were happily spent waxing fat and contented with daily glasses of pure cow's milk and mahjong sessions with my various aunts. Really, you should see the photos.

Anyway without further ramblings, I'll just say that my mum has been a fantastic mother this year. Every time that I walk away from both my parents and through the immigration counter at KLIA only seems to bring us closer. Sometimes I'm even afraid that we might be getting too close.

Without her, I'd lose my only window to the world I leave behind every time I board that long-distance flight, where every minute takes me further away from my family and home.

Without her, I wouldn't have had so many light-hearted moments to break the oppressiveness of study stress, when everything just seems so overwhelming and I feel like I'd rather run away than face the big world out there.

Without her, I wouldn't have been able to pull myself out of my February Fiasco. What truly helped me through that difficult period was her unfailing support (even when I needed to talk at some unearthly hour, KL time) and a mother's strength to say the right things at the right time, even when it hurt to say the truth and it hurt her even more to watch her daughter come to terms with the truth.

Without her, I'd have less contact with darling Daddy, and miss out all the hilarious and frustrating moments of balancing the dynamics in our fragile but everlasting little trio of a family.

Without her as my anchor, I'm afraid I might lose touch of the goodness in me, the values that make me who I am. And so, as we used to giggle and whisper in the sunlight of my early childhood, I love you from here to infinity!