The train is losing steam…

OK. Being a Stay-At-Home-Mom is the hardest job in the world.

For the longest time, I’ve been losing steam chugging along bringing up this toddler of mine. There are days when I tell myself it’s over. Can’t do this anymore. Days like today….

With only 4 hours of sleep last night, (mind you, I haven’t had a proper nights sleep for the last 3 years) we got out of the house early to go collect my passport at the immigration office in preparation for our trip to Australia. This is the immigration office in Kuala Lumpur, the city that revels in making life tough for others. In this case, no ramps or lifts for the disabled nor strollers but lots and lots of steps. Sometimes you need to climb up 20 steps , walk 200 meters, then climb down again another 30 steps. Who knows? Maybe it was part of the Government’s plan in keeping the country fit and healthy.

After the immigration workout, we headed off to the place where I do volunteer work with the intention of catching up with the library sorting that I’d volunteered to do. No chance. The place was filled with screaming kids and the office manager just wanted to talk. Non-stop. So we left.

T had baby dance class after but since it started late, she was already quite tired and started screaming a lot. That really does my head in. It is really tiring when you have to repeat yourself 10 times, each time louder and still get no result. We finally made it through class with all those rigorous dance moves (which Mummy did more of…) and rushed home with bags of take away food. The woman’s getting heavier by the day, I tell ya!

We drank our lunch and hit the sack but after 2 hours, one of us was begging for more. I couldnt lift my head. Definitely coming down with something, I thought. Action plan. Should I pick myself up and head to my mother’s so I can continue sleeping? I realized I couldnt pick myself so T had to learn to respect Mummy’s rest time.

What a joke. She was climbing all over me and as a result pulled my hair and pinched my skin several times. She whined for me to get her books and when I got the one she wanted out for her, she’d want another one 5 seconds later. Then she wanted to go potty. Then she wanted water. Then the book again. She started bringing toys onto my bed and little hair clips scattered on my sheets. Then she whined, “Mummy, wake up! Wake Up!!” After shouting at her several times, I finally gave in. Got out of bed and made her dinner, leftover lunch. She didnt want it. Kept like 2 metric tablespoons in her mouth for a whole half hour. Eventually I forced her to spit it out and I ignored her after. Called my husband to ask him that dreaded question, “What time are you leaving the office today?” (Read: “You better get your ass here pretty damn quick if you still want to see your daughter alive!”).

Mind over matter. Mind over matter.

I dragged T into the shower and tried to put on a happy face. Task accomplished.

Finally. Her Daddy came home. But I still felt like shit.

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