I really hate this title thingy. What on Earth should I type for that space? So I decided on days where my creativity dept shut down, I shall just type out “No TITLE” just like what I’ve done for this post.

This morning, I just sent Ayra over to the babysitter. I don’t know why but somehow I felt so bad leaving her behind. As always, I wanted to cry but what’s the reason behind my tears? I don’t know. I hate the feelings of she wanting me and I can’t be around. But what can I do? I’m not married to a prince or even a TOTO winner. I’m married to a normal, regular man whom I love most. That’s the sacrifice that I’ve to make since I’ve to work for my family.

Ayra, I hope you understand. I did all these out of love for you and your father.

I went to the new GIANT that day. I know it has been ages since it opened for business. But I just don’t have the right time to visit. Manage to shop at Giant last Sat with Hubby and spent hundreds. OMG. I’m getting poorer.

I bought loads of baby’s stuff. Milk powder, diapers, baby wipes etc. I also managed to get some facial wash, moisturizer, toner and etc. That’s my basic needs. Anyone disagree? When over the counter to pay. The funny thing was that the cashier took all my basic needs except the baby’s stuff. He said “Ma’am, it’s $117.20.” I smiled and replied,”Thanks but you forgot to include all these stuff (pointing to the baby’s stuff on his counter)” He looked at me as if I am some kind of alien which just landed on his property. With those curious eyes, he scanned the baby’s stuff without question. He must have thought those stuff were for the lady behind me and Hubby. Should I take that as a compliment or should I just be ashamed that I have a baby while I’m still a baby myself? Who cares right?

I think I should learn not to bother people’s judgement on me because they are not walking in my shoes and they don’t know what it’s like being me. So I should just ignore and let them say whatever their fucking mouth wanna say.

Yesterday, my next door neighbour had some visitors over. I knew some of them. Those girls are around my age and it has been somewhat a year since I saw them. I was carrying Ayra along my corridor when one of them said that what a cute baby I was carrying. She then asked, “Whose baby is that?” Without hesitation, I answered, “Mine” Somehow, my face turned red and I don’t know why. They were shocked too but pretended to be smiling. Oh, cut the crap. I really felt awkward. I thought I was ready for this but I guess I’m not. Shit , what the Fuck. I hate those dirty looks. I really do.

Maybe it’s time to be mean and selfish. And thick skin. But am I up to that? Can I stop pretending I’m perfect?