two years ago, i wrote about yr beliefs.
two years later,
Little has changed.
Instead of monsters, you are afraid of mani-kins.
You still think i am talking to someone else when i speak in chinese.
You have a little brother so you believe you are invincible. And (misconducts) invisible.
And, You still, Believe.
You still believe that i will never die.
Because i promise i will try not to.
(And its good to try, right mama?)
You believe that i wont turn 75 too soon.
You stop crying everytime i carry you. No matter the height you fell from, the humilitation from being wrong, and the nightmares that mani-kins are chasing you.
You believe that because your parents go to work, people get better & no one dies. No one.
So you stop crying now in the mornings because ironman also works.
You believe that the world is as happy as papa n mama are when you scoot downhill, backwards.
You believe that journeys matter & you still have no concept of time
(are we there yet? No. We havent even left)
You believe days are happy. There is no search for meaning. Or whether you can control a pen. Or fork. Or chopsticks. Or your destiny and “potential”.
You believe that everyone can paint dots like “auntie yayoi” and will not be afraid of dots anymore. And everyone will understand and love it too. And clap.
And there are a lot of colors and pretty lights when we do what we like. U believe that.
You believe that it is important to speak your mind, ask and find answers to whether polar bears and penguines like being cold. And eat cold fish.
And u like to say zooplankton n laugh. and laugh. because it is pronounce that funny haha way
(unlike phytoplankton which sounds so funny weird way).
You havent changed. Yet i have.
Mama reads stuff. Abt maths. N chinese.
and then she chooses to read less now. Except children’s books.
N into the sand goes the head. Shoulders to toes.
In another 2 years. Will i value these times as i value you now?
Will we plot advantures which no one knows abt. Play hide and seek at least twice a day cos our 1.5 yr old doesnt know anything else. So we still hide in the same places so he can find us. Twice a day. Everyday.
When art is art. We dont have to learn anything from it exvept whether we like it or not. (D hates The Scream)
Music can be noise. We can dislike it. Or LOVE how you go offkey (and laugh) or how you tell people our piano “makes ugly sounds” because it cannot play properly.
We dont have concepts or constructs to take away.
Will i be ok?
When u are pitted aganst. Compared. Ranked. And marked.
When you still tell me you dont want to grow up to “become a chinese speaking (noun)” but you love “mama’s chinese stories & chinese dragons & har gao”
So sometimes i need to reread this. Rewrite this.
Esp when i need to remember again.
Why we skip school to do nothing except be together.
Sweetheart,
mama still loves your beliefs.
Mama, still, wants to protect them.
One day, may our beliefs, change the world you live in.
Two Years Ago
My son, Believes. Truly.
I watched him roll ard in bed, and sleepily remembers his promise to me before bed. Pls look after tiny tiger. His mama isnt here and he is scared. Ok? Ok mama. And it was squashed between his small fingers.
Sweetheart. he is still at that age. I just achingly realise that. And i dont want to forget these things. Truly.
Sweetheart
You believe.
You believe that toys and all little things need to be protected. You believe in cuddles. You believe when you say “i love you” to me, that i will listen, and i stop and smile and sometimes even cry a little happiness. You believe your words speak to me.
You believe that when you push me from behind, mama can really walk faster. You believe when i say i catch, there is no reason to fear otherwise.
2 nights ago when we read abt monsters and spiders. And the 3 steps to deal with it. You practiced and practiced.
Step one: hands out in front. Shout “stop!!!”
Step two: my mama will beat you up!
My papa will beat you up! Jesus will beat you up!
Step 3: run to mama/ papa.
You believe. And there were no nightmares after that.
You believe when you wave at everyone who passes by, that they are as happy as you are. You believe that no one needs to know anyone or needs a reason before smiling or waving or passing them a cookie (“have some?”) or the toy in your hand. (you believe they will pass it back ) you believe buses and trains make everyone happy. Crowded or not. On time or not. Even if it is not the quickest way
You believe that journeys make us happy.
You told your papa
“mama goes to work to help gor gor move his arm. Gor gor fell from scooter and he cant walk. So daniel go to school and mama can help gor gor”. You believe that abt my work.
Recently you learnt the word cuddle from some girl in class. (You may have learn to CRY and throw tantrums too) and you love it. And even now when you argue or reason or just mad shout, never once have you refused an offer to cuddle. It cuts the noise the anger the fury, the misunderstoods and the madness.. And you come for your cuddle. Crying, still mad, probably still misunderstood. Because it makes everything better. Anything.
Tonight. Almost midnight. As you slowly release my finger wrapped moments ago like an anchor, which you believed was the only thing holding me near.
Mama loves your beliefs.
Mama wants to protect them.
And mostly,
Mama wants to believe. Just like you.
tree kids in this season 
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