Scribblings by Nancy

The kitchen is a mess, my cup of tea has gone cold, and my to-do list seems to be laughing at me. That's when the thought struck me. Gosh... it's been a while since I wrote anything. Life has been so beautifully chaotic that I almost forgot to do the one thing I love the most, write my heart out.  "Hectic" doesn't even begin to describe life since I stepped into a new role in a new place. For someone who always believed that nothing should come before being a mother, this season has been a challenge. I constantly wonder if I'm spending enough time with my children. Then came another quiet realization. I'm not that young Nancy anymore. The Nancy who could run behind a toddler, finish a mountain of housework, and still have enough energy to do ten more things without complaining. These days, my body reminds me that it needs a little more grace than it once did. I have always been there for my little ones, from brushing their hair and choosing their clothes t...

Have you ever been in a room full of people and felt slightly out of place? Not unwelcome. Not invisible. Just not entirely yourself. It’s a subtle kind of discomfort — easy to overlook, but difficult to ignore once you notice it. Lately, it’s something I’ve found myself returning to more often than I expected. Life, as it tends to, has been full. Responsibilities, emotional undercurrents, and the steady rhythm of everyday demands. Somewhere in that, I seem to have lost and found myself more times than I can count. And in the middle of it all, a quieter question began to take shape:  Do I truly belong, or have I simply learned how to fit in? I have never been a big fan of groups. Groups often come with invisible expectations. Slowly and quietly, they begin to shape you. They nudge you to think a certain way, behave a certain way, and agree with certain things. Before you realise it, you start adjusting yourself just enough to make sure you still fit. We compromise a little here,...

Grieving the life I imagined and embracing the one I was given New year. New energy. New possibilities. 2025 was good to me. And yet, December always arrives with a strange pressure. As the year draws to a close, I begin questioning myself ,  How productive was I? Did I manage to tick all the boxes on my checklist? Most times, the answers disappoint me. I end up beating myself up for everything I couldn’t do. And then January arrives —heavier, asking me to set new goals and chase a better version of myself. Somewhere in all this self-judgment, I forget something important. My blog itself is a by-product of my New Year resolution of 2025. And that counts for something, doesn’t it? Life, I’m learning, is a delicate balance between what if and what is . " What is " — is who we are right now. This moment. This breath. This present. " What if " — is the life we imagine we might have had, if not for certain choices we made… or choices we were forced to make. ...

Christmas is around the corner, and it is the most awaited time of the year for me. I am a Christmas person to the core. December always feels different, softer, lighter, full of promise. So I put up the Christmas tree, decorated the house with lights, changed the cushion covers and table runners, and wrapped the home in that familiar festive glow. Every time I walk past a room, I catch myself thinking, Alright… what more can I decorate here? The house looks beautiful, warm, glowing, almost picture perfect. And yet, somewhere in all the sparkle, I realised that Christmas had quietly turned into décor. Pretty, yes… but a little hollow. This morning, out of nowhere, a flood of childhood memories came rushing in. I suddenly remembered how full Christmas used to feel. I do not recall a single Christmas that was lonely or quiet. It was never just the four of us. There were always cousins everywhere, laughter bouncing off the walls, uncles teasing, aunts cooking up feasts, the kind of noise ...

  A mum’s guide to holding the line when the internet storms your house. When Roblox Came Knocking Boundaries with my pre-teen? Let’s just say it is an ongoing negotiation. And when it comes to screen time, some days it feels like I am negotiating world peace. Once upon a time, my biggest digital worry was making sure he was not watching questionable YouTube videos. Then came Roblox, a whole universe I was absolutely not prepared for, and suddenly I was the clueless outsider in my own home. The New School Plot Twist It all began when my son casually mentioned that every child in our apartment complex was playing Roblox. I have always been particular about the kind of content he is exposed to online, and at that time, I simply was not convinced Roblox was the right choice. So I said no. But everything changed last year after he joined his new school. He came home one day, shoulders drooping, and told me he was the only child who was not allowed to play, thanks to my “unreasonab...

For the past few weeks, my younger one has been falling ill on and off. Whenever she’s unwell, this strange fear grips my heart. Fear — that she will be unwell for the next few days. Fear — that she might have caught some big infection. Fear — that I won’t be able to sleep well and will end up roaming around like a homeless person. And I start to operate in that fear. I lose my rhythm and I’m just not present. It’s like someone pushed the pause button — everything around me turns blurry, and all I can think of is that my daughter is sick. This fear grew so big that I couldn’t sleep, and I was roaming around like a zombie for days. Until one day, I had to put my foot down and say no to it. I sat myself down and had this talk: Nancy, you’ve been through a lot, and this too shall pass. It’s just a fever. All you have to do is be with your daughter and take care of her. Give her the calm comfort she expects from you — not your fear. And yes, I calmed down. Operating in fear is never ideal ...