Too many things to write.

It's been quite some time since I last wrote in here. Blogger has a new look; it even has commenting functions now so I think I may be deleting the haloscan function soon.

The upgrading works at home are almost done. I was finally able to wash some clothes yesterday. In fact, I spent most of the afternoon handwashing a lot of stuff and I still have a basket of clothes for the washing machine to wash.

Have been really tired. There are so many things swirling around in my mind. I dream of work and people at work more often. This week will be a tough one. Next week it will be tougher.

I need a break.

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So La Toya got eliminated. It will be Jasmine's turn next week.

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In the afternoon, Mom and I were in the kitchen moving things around. Last evening, she had used the hose from the bathroom to flood the kitchen floor and the result was sparkling clean. This morning, it was dirty again, thanks to our neighbours who just had their ceilings drilled. Nevermind.

Well, we ended up moving the dining table around. After that, we sat there and chatted. Actually it was just me sitting there while she stood somewhere near the sink. I can't remember what we were talking about, just that it was the usual stuff. I just thought that it felt really nice; my sitting there and she standing there. It's just this cosy feeling of being together.

Mom and I have never been that close friends. We never traded secrets, shared our heartache, talked about my dreams. She has never patted my head or praised me for anything. It's just funny because I know she does kiss my sister and strokes her head sometimes but never me. I had never asked why. I used to think that she disliked me but I slowly grew to understand.

Every morning without fail, as I wait for the lift outside the home, she would stand by the door and watch me as I get into the lift. Only after that, she would walk back into the house. Or the time when it rained and she took off her slippers to walk barefooted while I wore her slippers to take the school bus. Or that act of tidying my sleeve and collar when we got out of home in a rush. Love can be as simple as that. There are the little things you often take for granted.

Do you truly understand what it means to be a mother? Or what Mother's Day means other than buying flowers or presents?