The main reason why I write this is…because…I want to pour down my overwhelming emotion. Writing is healing, healing, yes healing.

To tell you the truth, it’s not that easy to be a working mom. In the morning, I have to race against time to make sure that everything is already in order; getting up earlier to prepare baby’s needs, cooking pourage, feeding the baby, bathing him, washing bottles, ordering groceries, and giving some instructions to my maid. But, yesterday was worse because my maid refused to go back to my house after we spent ‘mudik’ in Serang. Well, she is planning to get married. So, today…my husband and I should do some chores together and take care of our baby.

Sometimes I feel guilty to be a working mom because time seems so limited, so to erase that feeling, I try hard to have quality time with my son before working. When my maid worked in my house, I didn’t let her take care of my baby before I went to office. Well, actually I didn’t want my son prefers to be with my maid rather than me. So, before working and after working, my son is mine, never, never, never anyone else touches him.  No matter how tired I am, my time is for my son. Yes. I force to do one’s best in a demanding situation, but unfortunately I failed to focus on my Ramadhan😦

In the beginning, so many argues arise. Mars versus venus. My husband let me work, but if I can’t manage time, then I ignore and skip many things, it’s time to give my ears to listen to him, all day long. One day my husband said, “don’t be too emotional, please be rational. Every choice has a consequence, and you have to bear with it, like or dislike. If you don’t like this and this and this, better you quit. If you can’t manage time, better you quit. Ramadhan is time for worshipping, never your love to your son is much bigger than your love to God, If someday Allah takes Elfaz back, what would you feel?”.

I took a deep breath, once I cried to be in this position. Well, I will teach in September, but I should stay as a full time worker for a year as a candidate of civil servant before I become the real lecture. I don’t like this position, and so does my husband. My husband hugged me and said sorry. But I hope, soon, I will get used to it. Yes. I just now adapt with it, yes I’m adjusting my self to this new circumstance.

I’ve been working in academic office for two months, soon I will get through it. I convince my self to think that everything is OK, though I realize that time for my husband is getting limited, and so is my son. That’s why, to heal this feeling, when break time at 12 a.m, I go home to (breast)feed my baby and meet my husband. Then I go back to work again. Always, and always like that. If I feel exhausted, I remember that many other women left their children longer than me, trapped by traffic jam, with the very tight schedule, but luckily, my husband provides us a house which is closer to the campus.

My husband? Yes, he is with my baby at home, during his “three weeks off” . At first, I demanded him to be with the baby, full time. Because I worry if my son lost a moment with his daddy. But man is man. To some extents, he is less capable to do some baby’s stuffs, so sometimes my maid handled him. But now, we should do it together. :O

I feel sorry, sorry for demanding my husband much. Because it’s so exhausting to take care of the baby alone. I should have been on one’s mettle because this is my choice. I should, now, and always remember that I am an ordinary person who tries do the best but never forget that Allah determines the destiny. Now, I have a big homework to search for day care since no one can take care of my son. I should get out of this terrible condition. I am the leader, the leader of myself. I need better change. Better change.