And the cat says, ‘Time? What time?’
Parents with young children, I understand you now. There’s no such thing as enough time.
For the past few months, I feel like I have a kid. The kid is my three-year-old nephew, who has ten times the energy of an almost twenty-five year old. He could climb up and down the stairs, jump around for ten minutes and run around the house without even sitting down. Me?
Well, I’d have stopped chasing him after the second stair-climb.
And since my sister has a newborn, my nephew is kind of, sort of, my kid.
(I think after the things I’ve done, I can claim a quarter parenthood on my nephew.)
After all, I’m the one who teaches him to say ‘good morning, Auntie Ella’, ‘good night, Auntie Ella’ and ‘I love you, Auntie Ella’. I also teach him to kiss us on the cheek (or more precisely, to let us kiss him on the cheek—a feat I’m very proud of).
Wait, is this considered as blackmailing children? I’m not sure.
‘Hug and kiss him more,’ [my uncle] motioned his hand to my nephew, ‘until you have enough. They grow too fast and one day they won’t want those hugs and kisses anymore.’
I try very hard to sing to him so he could take his nap and try even harder to sing even when I’m half-awake so he could have his beauty sleep at night.
Yes, I co-sleep with him.
Oh, please refrain judgment on this matter. I don’t mind the extra cuddling. As my uncle said to my sister, her husband and me last week, ‘Hug and kiss him more,’ he motioned his hand to my nephew, ‘until you have enough. They grow too fast and one day they won’t want those hugs and kisses anymore. Like this one,’ he patted his teenage son on the shoulder.
My nephew is cute. He knows he’s sleepy and tired, but whenever he realises that he’s on that brink of falling asleep, he would energise himself–sitting upright and singing songs so that he could play some more.
Really, thank God he’s so, so cute.
What I really want to say in this post is: Parents, I get you.
How on earth can we (ahem, you) get anything done with babies in the house? I have no idea.
I don’t even cook or clean, and I still couldn’t have a proper me-time.
Instead of solid books that take too many will- and mindpower to read, I opt to binge-read the Goosebumps series. Those are the only books I could afford to read, as: a) I don’t need too much brain activity in reading them, and b) I could finish one book in thirty minutes—which is the longest time that you can get a child to stay engaged on a certain activity, in exception of going to the playground and playing handphone.
Besides, I did love the Goosebumps when I was young, but I had only read a few back then.
And writing? Considering the number of posts I have published since I co-parent my nephew, well, it’s been taking a back seat for sure.
Proper me-time is basically on halt until [the kids] go to school. I’m not even sure I’d get it back by then.
And a good night sleep? My last best sleep was a one-hour-and-a-half nap a couple of days ago.
I’ve been reading some parenting comics (the Fowl Language Comics are hilarious; and yes, I do relate to them, to an extent), and here’s what I realise: Children do acrobats in their sleep.
And to illustrate my point on lacking time even further: I’m writing this blog while eating longan, since my nephew is having his dinner. Editing this entry happens an hour later, when he’s watching Nick Jr.’s Paw Patrol.
I guess I’m seeing a portion of my future, when I have kids.
Proper me-time is basically on halt until they go to school. I’m not even sure I’d get it back by then.
Thank God they’re so, so cute.
Ps. My sister said that she has a friend whose younger sister was also helping her to take after her child. The sister of my sister’s friend says the experience left her being scared, and reluctant, to have kids.
P.Ps. Can’t believe I’m doing some sort of parenting post before I’m even married.
P.P.Ps. My nephew sleeps with my parents tonight. (I get the night off.) But he keeps going into my room to sleep. Such a cutie.