I miss blogging. I've been keeping a diary since I was 13. I stopped when I was 20 when I got very busy with work and the boyfriend hehe (he's now my husband). When I married then moved to my husband's place, I burned my diaries. It took a lot of courage because they contain a collection of memories. (I suck at remembering something so I used to always write them down.) Burning them was like letting go of the old me as I step into another chapter of my life. And then J came along, my first born. Immediately writing became a luxury. Sometimes I try to write. Hence this blog was born. But most days I'd trade sleep over a new blog post. Sleep wins over sex even.
Fast forward to today, now with 2 kids. Our marriage isn't all sweet and we're still too poor to travel the whole country. My second child C was born sickly and this took a toll on our finances. Yet we managed and we survived. C is now off-meds (that's him in the photo) and is showing potential in singing, memory games, and puzzles.
Looking back, I learned that happiness comes to those who work for it. Well, perhaps a bit of luck could help. But if you sulk and do nothing, you aren't helping yourself. You go farther away from happiness. Happiness then is a choice. At 31, I give myself a pat on the back for living my choice. I chose happiness and have decided to work for it. ☺