Weekend comes and I'd throw on any old T-shirt because who cares, it's gonna get dirty anyway. I don't bother with my hair anymore because I don't have time to go for my haircut and it looks bad anyway. I just put on a hairband and squirm everytime I walk pass a mirror. My brain is degenerating because I don't have time to read. And everytime I attempt to do so, my son will pull me off my chair to:
1. Sit next to him while he plays.
2. Read him a book.
3. Play him a Thomas video.
4. Cuddle him.
And when I finally find time to do what I like to do--blog, husband asks me how come I'm always blogging. I ask him why is it he's always at the driving range. I'm snappy, irritated, rude, tired.
Don't even get me started on what goes on during the working week.
And the only time I got to get something new for MYSELF for Chinese New Year was right after work, before I picked up the carrot cake for my mother-in-law at a Chinese restaurant. Just that half an hour. So precious.
Why not longer you ask. Well, so I get to see my kid before he goes to bed.
Maybe men are better at putting their lives in neat compartments. But I couldn't even go for my weekly Yoga class after work on Monday without missing my boy. That's why I haven't been going.
So different from the carefree days before Kai came along.
But just as I was sitting exhausted that day in playschool, head throbbing like a time bomb waiting to go off, and watching Kai explore the soon-to-be-his classroom, he ran back to me with a fistfull of jigsaw puzzles he had found. The old puzzles were like new found treasures to him, and he chose to share them with me.
I suppose I have to look like a maid for a long time more.