{"id":2490,"date":"2010-09-08T08:44:54","date_gmt":"2010-09-08T00:44:54","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/mytwogirls.net\/?p=2490"},"modified":"2010-09-13T18:37:07","modified_gmt":"2010-09-13T10:37:07","slug":"random-sept-2010","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/mytwogirls.net\/?p=2490","title":{"rendered":"Random Sept 2010"},"content":{"rendered":"

Woh… more than a week I’d not posted anything. If you wanted to know why, go here<\/a>. I’ll be posting more photos of the holiday here once I sorted out all the photos.<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~~~~~ . ~~~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

\"Lisa\"<\/p>\n

Recently in blogsphere, we’d lost a dear friend, Lisa<\/a>. She has been battling cancer with so much spunk, but eventually, cancer won. We’d lost her, but heaven has gained an angel.<\/p>\n

We’ll always remember her fighting spirit, her generosity, her humour despite the situation, her positive vibes. <\/p>\n

We’ll always miss her.<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~~~~~ . ~~~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

I’m not sure if it’s a good thing to expose my children to death at such an early age.<\/p>\n

This year, Zaria has attended my grandfather’s funeral<\/a>, and I also brought her along when I went to pay Lisa my last respect.<\/p>\n

She used to tell me “Ma, I don’t want you to be fat.”<\/span> occasionally. Because she knows fat = unhealthy or maybe it was the Harry Potter’s Prisoner of Azkaban that she saw where Harry inflated his aunt<\/a>. <\/p>\n

She would tell me I need to exercise, and if I missed my sit ups in the night, she would ask me, “Why you didn’t do your exercise, ma? I don’t want you to be fat. You must do your exercise.”<\/span> <\/p>\n

Now this week, her tone has changed. She’ll tell me “Ma, I don’t want you to be old.”<\/span>
\nShe says that to me, Daddy, and even Jelly.
\nAnd she’ll work herself to tears after a while, sobbing quietly away, and said, “But I don’t want you to be old.”<\/span> after we’d explained to her (upteenth time) growing old is natural, and we’ll all go through that.<\/p>\n

Yesterday, she brought this up again. Before she shed her first drop of tear, I told her, “All of us will grow old. Even you, you’ll grow bigger, you’ll be 4, then 5, then 6 and then one day you’ll be sixteen.”<\/span>
\nShe replied, “But I don’t want to grow bigger or older. I want to be small forever.”<\/span> o.O”<\/p>\n

~~~~~~~~~~~~ . ~~~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

On our way back to school, we had a chat about the day. Zara as usual likes talking about her best friend WY, telling me about WY’s dad etc. I asked her, “Do you know what WY’s daddy do?”<\/span> (I was asking more of occupation).
\nShe replied, “I don’t know.”<\/span>
\nI asked again, “If people asked you what your Daddy does, do you know (what to say)?”<\/span>
\nShe replied, “Ya, I know. My Daddy always sleeps, sometimes he snores. My Daddy wear glasses. My Daddy always drinks tea. Sometimes my Daddy goes out with his friends to drink beer.”<\/span> o.O”
\n(Wow Daddy, you sounds like someone who’s retired and having a good life.)
\nI asked another question, “What does Mummy do then?”<\/span>
\nShe replied, “You bake and you read a lot of books.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I’ll have to give her more details about our occupations soon. <\/p>\n

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