A. I get to accompany my husband, who has been working from home for an employer who is in the United States.
B. I get to spend more time with my daughter, and mould her into the minion that I want her to be (buahahahhaa)
C. I get to learn to become a better cook.
D. I don't have to waste my time, or waste away my health by dealing with the horrible process of commuting to work. and lastly...
E. No office politics (yay!)
However, little did I know that working from home would come with a full set of new problems that would make one want to throw in the towel within the first two weeks alone. Here's what happened:
I quit my previous job in late 2010 and found myself in a new home, in new surroundings and a ton of creases that needs stomping out. Basically, I got my own home already (hurray!) - which practically came without an internet connection or cable TV. We also had to start looking for new places to shop for raw materials, as well as new places to dine in, and let's not forget new recipes to apply to our daily makan routine.
Along the way, I was lucky to have been given several jobs by an ex-employer, on a freelance basis that pays alright for someone who doesn't have to step out of her house to get some dough.
In the meantime, my daughter was trying to get used to having to face both her doting parents every single day, and by that I meant, she was trying to figure out what are the best ways to manipulate us into giving all that she wants. Oh.... I will count the ways.
Needless to say, Havoc ruled the first three months I was here.
But then...
Things began to fall into place around chinese new year.
For starters, my husband and I have established that we will share the household chores although he rules the kitchen more and I rule the washing machine more (no complaints there). We finally got our Unifi connection, 2Mbps (thank you)
As for being perfect parents, we are far from it, usually leaving Eva to the mercy of the idiot box (no complaints there either) until one night, she woke up at around 3.30am and asked (more like screamed) to watch Elmo.
Her needy condition led to both her parents ending up in fights, arguments and tantrums (I don't wanna watch her, you watch her) and it had gotten so bad that one day I told my husband that I want to stop freelancing and just watch Eva, due to Fact 1: he is the breadwinner of the family and Fact 2: since I am without a stable income, whenever he is busy I HAVE to drop EVERYTHING to watch Eva... might as well make it permanent.
That's when he came up with the idea of having the SCHEDULE.
The schedule
Eva sleeps at around 11pm at night (that's early for her) and will wake up between 10 am and 11.30 am. So my schedule turns out to be from 12pm to 6pm, after which her dad will take over from 6am until she goes to sleep. If you think that doesn't sound fair, Eva does take a two-hour nap at around 2pm to 4pm and while it is easier to let her nap, it is a whole other thing to get her to go to sleep at night. Initially, I was pleased with the arrangement, until I realised that by the time I am done looking after Eva at 6pm, it will be dinner time, and that coupled with a LONG day would make me too tired to do anything else. I struggled for about two weeks, before asking for a flip with my husband. Turns out the switch was useless since he takes some afternoons off to Skype with his employer in the U.S.
We reached a dead-end once again. So what happens next? My work got delayed pretty badly and it got me really worked up that I can't deliver as punctual as I used to no more. So what they hey, I'm already screwed, why not take this time to just hang out with my kid? And hung out I did, and I discovered something extraordinary.
They just want you to listen.
Maybe it's just Eva (who's barely 2), but I hope it's the same with all kids, but kids like her, all they really want is for you to just listen. Once they pass the 18-month mark, they undergo a sort of transformation that allows them to be self-conscious. They understand what they want and will demand for it and even though they can't talk, they will find other means to let you know they want that banana or more milk, or just an empty bowl to bang around for fun. And the magic happens when you stop and just listen to them. For example, I once asked Eva when she was around 19-mth old if she would want milk. She would stare at me like I'm a statue and then she would look to the side for something else to stare at, then look back at me and then nod. Eventually that nod evolved into repeating the word I use for milk "neh-neh" repeatly until I get it and start making her a bottle of milk. Later on, our conversation would become something like "Do you want milk/neh-neh?" Eva: "Neh-neh? Yao (I want)". Up until now she would say this, as if to confirm if I am offering her neh-neh (as opposed to biscuits or fruit or yogurt etc), and then saying "yao" I want or "bu yao: I don't want.
Until early February, I've never realised what a connection Eva and I have established until her father got some time off to actually watch over her while I catch up with my work. He was having a rough time for a bit and had resorted to using the back of his hand to deliver messages to her daughter, like "time to take a bath", "do you want milk or not?", and "stop wriggling around and put your pajamas on" whereas when I take over from him I got her to do those things with less of a hassle on my part, and less of pain on her buttocks on her part. I told Eva's dad repeatedly to be gentle with her and to listen to her but I guess by that time Eva had decided that she could only trust one person, and I had the luck to be the one she chose to trust.
Eva took full advantage of being the mama's girl, demanding things by doing what I ask her to do, up to a point where she is starting to show the effects of being over-pampered. When her grandfather came over to stay around two weeks ago, he confirmed this state of affairs by saying that she is a spoilt brat. So again we went all flexible with this parenting gig and started changing our modus operandi again.
I introduce the clothes hanger.
To be continued...
