One should always refrain from listening to dance tunes with a damn good pair of headphones on the MRT.
The many metal poles lined up through the middle of every carriage make it really hard to resist the temptation of dancing in the open view of other fellow commuters. 😕
That aside, I really enjoy taking Thursdays off and going to school. I adore being able to be just who I am. Dressing the way I normally would (now with an extra pound of saggy skin round my middle), plugged into my headphones the way I always have since my teens, walking with a slight exaggerated swagger of the hips now that there’s no pram or diaper bag for me to juggle.
It’s moments like these that I feel… free.
Although, being a mother, your duties and worries don’t end simply because your child is not by your side. I call home each chance I get, just to see how the baby is doing. And to repeat the same set of instructions that I do each schoolday.
“Has he had his dinner yet?”
“How much did he eat?”
“You can give him a bath about 30 minutes after he eats.”
“His diaper was changed at __ pm.”
“You can give him a bit of pureed fruits if he gets fussy.”
“Tonight seems cold. Let him wear his long pajamas after bath.”
And so on and so forth.
It’s actually quite ridiculous the number of times I call or sms Hubs during that short 4 hour span of time. Somehow I also feel a need to “report” my every movement to the father of my child.
“I’m on the way to school now. [Throw in various reminders.] Call me if anything, ok?”
“I’m having my break. Is everything ok?”
“I’m on the way home now. Is all fine?”
Yes. Motherhood can sometimes turn you into one heck of an irritating woman. It definitely did that to me.
Thus, my Honours, I plead temporal insanity. On the grounds of feeling strong urges to pole-dance in the MRT, and to constantly do phone checks on the baby even though he is in perfectly good hands, I have valid reason to declare my state of mind not sane.