There’s something magical about watching your child find a world they truly adore — and for my son, that world is MSM. Yes, I’ve learned recently it stands for My Singing Monsters, and honestly? It’s adorable.
I’ve watched him go from casually opening the game… to becoming a fully committed little monster maestro.
The kind of commitment that looks like:
✨ Staying up late waiting for game updates
✨ Saving every dollar of pocket money to buy gems
✨ Carefully planning his island layouts like a mini architect
✨ Mastering breeding combos like he’s running a genetics lab
And in the middle of all that? Pure, unfiltered joy.
As a mum, it’s easy to underestimate games. We worry about screen time, we worry about distractions, we worry about tired eyes and forgotten lunch boxes… but then you see this side of gaming:
The creativity.
The patience.
The excitement of unlocking a new monster.
The way he beams when he teaches me the characters’ names — as if I’m the student in his tiny classroom.
The pride in saving his own money and choosing how to spend it.
It’s not just a game to him. It’s his little universe.
And I love that he gets to be just a kid in it.
A kid who is passionate.
A kid who is imaginative.
A kid who celebrates small wins.
A kid who stays up (a bit too late sometimes) waiting for something he’s excited about.
Isn’t that exactly what childhood should be?
In a world that grows up too fast, these are the moments I treasure:
Watching him record his MSM videos… hearing him giggle when his monsters start singing… seeing him proudly show me his island like it’s a work of art.
It reminds me that joy doesn’t have to be complicated.
Sometimes it’s just a boy, a phone, a singing monster, and a mum smiling from the doorway.
Monthly Archives: November 2025
Why $660 on Pokémon cards wasn’t really about the cards at all
On paper, spending $660 on Pokémon cards doesn’t make sense.
It’s not the “logical” thing to do. It’s not an investment strategy. It’s not a necessity.
And it definitely isn’t something any financial advisor would celebrate.
But here’s the quiet truth underneath the noise:
I’m not really collecting Pokémon cards. I’m collecting moments with my kids.
In a world obsessed with optimisation, efficiency, and “making smart choices,” we forget something important: Not everything that matters can be measured.
And not every meaningful moment comes wrapped in logic.
Sometimes the things that nourish us most make zero financial sense — and infinite emotional sense.
The Real Beauty Behind the Packs
Every pack we open together is a ritual.
The excitement.
The predictions.
The loud “NO WAY!” when we land a hit.
The laughter when we pull yet another duplicate.
The way my kids’ eyes light up like they’ve just found treasure.
In those moments, I’m not a manager, a leader, or an adult juggling responsibilities.
I’m just Mum.
Fully present.
Fully theirs.
And that is the real value — one that no PSA rating or market price can ever match.
Why Serving Happiness Matters
We spend so much of our lives being logical: Make the practical choice. Save the sensible amount. Choose stability. Follow the rules. Do the “right” thing.
But what about joy?
What about connection?
What about the memories we’ll hold onto long after the logic fades into dust?
Serving happiness isn’t reckless.
It’s intentional.
It’s choosing what matters most even when it doesn’t add up on a spreadsheet.
Because the one thing life keeps teaching me is this:
Presence is the real currency.
And joy is the real return.
A Reminder I Keep Coming Back To
When my kids grow up, they won’t remember how much I earned.
They won’t remember what was “logical.”
They won’t remember the sensible decisions I made in boardrooms.
But they will remember:
Sitting next to me tearing open packs The sound of our collective gasp when we hit something big The inside jokes The energy The softness The time The love
That’s the legacy I’m building.
Not a binder full of cards, but a childhood full of memories.
So yes, I spent $660 on Pokémon cards.
But what I really bought was joy, connection, presence, and moments I’ll never get back.
Happiness over logic. Every single time.
Journey Back to the Needle: Crafting My First Hmong Corset
It’s been a long time since I’ve made something with my own hands. Life has been busy with work, family, kids, travel, and the everyday rush that leaves creativity sitting quietly in the corner, waiting patiently for me to return. For years, I’ve said “one day I’ll sew again.” Then, suddenly, without planning or perfection, that day finally came.
My first project back?
A Hmong-inspired corset.
There’s something poetic about that. A garment designed to shape the body, helping it stand tall and confident… inspired by a culture that has shaped me since the day I was born. As soon as I started choosing fabrics, playing with the lines, sketching ideas, and thinking about embroidery — I could feel something familiar returning. Not just the skill, but the sense of identity that comes with it.
Sewing Hmong elements into a modern piece feels like stitching heritage into the present. Corsets aren’t traditional Hmong garments, but the textiles, colours, patterns and handwork? Those carry memory. They carry my grandmother’s hands, my mother’s stories, and the colours I grew up seeing at New Year festivals, ceremonies, weddings, and family gatherings. Every thread carries something deeper than fashion.
But let’s be honest: the process isn’t glamorous. I’m fully prepared for uneven stitches, fabric that refuses to cooperate, measuring twice and still cutting wrong (😂), and at least one meltdown where I question why I ever thought this was a good idea. Yet even that feels meaningful — because returning to creativity means returning to imperfection.
I’m excited to share the wins, the mistakes, the experiments, the little breakthroughs, and all the messy parts in between. This journey isn’t about making a perfect corset; it’s about reconnecting with culture, creativity, and myself.
So here I am…
Back at the sewing machine.
Hands clumsy, heart full.
Crafting a Hmong corset — one stitch at a time.
When Life Nudges You to Look Up
Today has been a heavy day. The kind that slows the world down just enough for you to hear your own heartbeat and wonder what it all really means. We just found out that my last remaining grandparent (my grandma on my mum’s side) has been diagnosed with cancer. It started with a scan for a simple rash, and suddenly we’re standing face-to-face with words none of us wanted to hear.
My grandma doesn’t want to know the full results. She’s decided, in the most “her” way possible, that she only wants to talk about happy things. Joy, light, stories. No numbers. No prognosis. No fear.
I admire that. I envy that. And I’m also trying to understand it.
Because at the same time, I’m sitting here having just resigned from a job that took more from me than I realised — time with my family, energy from my days, space from my heart. I thought stepping back would give me clarity, but instead it feels like life has placed a mirror in front of me and whispered: “Now look.”
And so I’m questioning life. Mortality. The fragility of it all. The choices we make by default. The moments we postpone because we assume there will be more. The way we drift through seasons until something — illness, loss, change — shakes us awake.
My grandma doesn’t want to know her timeline. And yet her decision has made me think deeply about mine.
If I have to leave something behind one day, years from now, I don’t want it to be titles, or impressive job descriptions, or a CV that looks good on paper. Those things won’t matter to the people who love me.
I want to leave foundations.
Stable ones.
Warm ones.
Ones my children can stand on when life shakes them.
I want to leave memories that make them feel safe. Values that help them stay kind. Stories that remind them where they come from. Choices that show them what truly mattered to me — family, love, time, presence.
Today reminded me how quickly life can change. How fragile our bodies are. How strong our hearts can be. And how little control we really have over the timeline of anything.
But we can control how we fill the days we’re given.
So tonight, I’m holding my family a little tighter. I’m thinking of my grandma and the strength in her softness. And I’m letting myself feel it all. The fear, the sadness, the clarity, the love.
Life is short.
But maybe that’s what makes it so unbelievably precious.
Getting organised. Turns out people use email and digital calendars outside of work too 🤯
I asked my friends how they stay organised in their personal life…
Turns out people actually use email and digital calendars outside of work too. 🤯
Meanwhile me, relying on vibes, memory, and the occasional sticky note: 👀😂
So I did the only sensible thing… took it 1-step further (as an overachiever 🤣), not only set up my calendars but bought myself a skylight too.
Welcome to the era of Personal Admin Helen ✨📅💁🏻♀️
🎾 Mum Duty Chronicles: The Tennis Lesson Edition
Me: professional driver, water-bottle refiller, and motivational coach (for one small tennis star).
Between packing snacks, finding missing rackets, and trying to remember if it’s court 3 or court 4 this week — motherhood feels like a full-time logistics role with overtime in encouragement.
But then I watch her walk out onto that court, ponytail bouncing, racket in hand, confidence growing, and I remember why I love this chaos. Every missed serve, every giggle between drills, every “Mum, did you see that one?” makes it all worth it.
Parenting isn’t glamorous; it’s sweaty, messy, and somehow still the most beautiful thing. Because in between the runs to tennis, the snack runs, and the life runs, we’re teaching our kids to show up, try again, and laugh when it goes sideways.
So here’s to all the mums out there running on caffeine and love, courtside, car-side, or anywhere in between.
When You Limit Yourself to 4 Packs a Day 😅 — Mega Symphonia Unwraps
There’s a special kind of self-control that comes with being a Pokémon card collector… and then there’s pretending to have self-control.
The Japanese Mega Symphonia set has been sitting there whispering our name all week — that glossy artwork, the texture, the shimmer that hits differently under sunlight. And honestly, who can resist the suspense of wondering what’s hiding behind that next tear of foil?
JAPANESE POKÉMON PULLS: We Hit Three EX & Full Art Cards in the Mega Symphonia Set!
You won’t believe the luck! Watch our latest Pokémon TCG opening where we unbox the rare Japanese Mega Symphonia set and pull three rare EX + Full Art cards. See the exact cards we pulled and where to buy this exciting set!
Can’t resist. What did we hit?
Tried to be a responsible adult today… then I saw a Pokémon card vending machine.
Five seconds later: “just one pack.”
Ten seconds later: “maybe another—what if there’s a full art card?”
Parenting lesson of the day: self-control vanishes faster than a wild Pikachu.