It’s December, and I am impossibly busy, not because there’s all that much work, but because a series of domestic calamities has put paid any notion of putting up our feet and having a break.
Naomi and I have been cruising along the past couple of months, becoming more and more the typical young Singaporean family – baby, mothers-in-law, maid in tow. Until the last fortnight – Naomi’s mum’s had to go to Taiwan for medical reasons, and my mum’s been crook with severe food poisoning, and last week, we sent our domestic helper back to her province because she no longer felt passionate about working for us.
So it’s just Kai and us. The compact family unit. And you know what? It’s not that bad.
Kai’s a really good baby and more or less follows the schedule we’ve set for him. I can imagine the number of parents saying how lucky we are. We know we are. And it’s priceless, being able to plan your day around your baby’s.
Only thing is, this week, Kai’s become aware of this thing called separation anxiety, and has been freaking out because it’s dawned on him that Mama and Papa are separate entities from him.
Part and parcel of a baby’s development, but not conducive for work or household errands. I’ve tried typing while cradling him. At 5 words a minute, I’m better off just paying full attention to him. It’s more fun too.
It’s been like that for Naomi too. Worse. She’s down with some flu/cold thing, and is exhausted. But being the fabulous mother and wonderful wife that she is, she’s getting over her illness by baking gingerbread men. Just so we usher in the mad and merry season.