The Household COO

Between electrical storms, failing internet connections, a nursing toddler and falling asleep, I haven’t been able to get online much since Monday night which is making me feel positively murderous.  As I ponder over this thought, it makes me wonder how sad I must be when the bulk of my free time revolves around the internet.  Sad to say, without the internet, I would be lost.

I can just see it now… forty years down the track when I’m in one of those retirement homes, I’ll be the cranky old witch who screams at the nursing staff because my internet connection isn’t working.  Then again, maybe by that time there will be more reliable service providers and I won’t have to worry about dead or dying connections.  Then all I’ll have to scream about is for someone to change my diapers and to look for my misplaced teeth.

Hmmm… somehow that thought hasn’t really perked up my day. 

When I was a kid, I was deathly afraid of old age.  I could never understand that Chinese desire to live long because I would rather die young than live to a ripe old age decrepit and ailing.  Of course, back then, it was an ignorant assumption of a childish mind to associate old age with senility.  Twenty years and a health science education later, I now know that senility is a disease of the old rather than a natural occurrence that accompanies old age.

Now my fear isn’t of growing old but of growing old with disease.  Although I’m still not particularly anxious about dying young, I would hate to grow old plagued by illness.  My motivation to lead a healthier lifestyle stems not from a desire to live longer but from a desire to grow old gracefully. 

You might be wondering what has spurred such morbid thoughts.  It is the recent news of one of my parents’ friends who has been diagnosed with myeloma.  It wasn’t all that long ago when my aunt discovered she had colon cancer which she tried to fight with chemotherapy only to succumb to the disease after it had metastasised to her spinal column.  Being part of the same group of friends that used to go on holiday together, I am sure they are still recovering from the news of my aunt’s passing.

The irony was that my aunt’s cancer had been present a couple of years back when she first took a colonoscopy to check what was causing her vague but unpleasant gastrointestinal symptoms.  Back then, the doctors had missed the cancer due to the obstruction from some unusual anatomy.  By the time they detected the cancer, it was a year later.  My aunt went through surgery to remove the cancer followed by two rounds of chemo because the drugs they used in the first round weren’t working for my aunt.  After the chemo, they did a half body scan to check for presence of cancer cells and pronounced her to be in remission. 

Despite the cessation of chemo, my aunt still had pain in her chest which they said was due to the chemo.  When the pain persisted, they did more scans only to discover that the cancer had spread to her spinal column and it was in a location that was difficult to operate on.  If they operated, there was a 50-50 chance she could end up paralysed in the lower half of her body.  If they didn’t operate, there was still a strong likelihood that she would become paralysed in the lower half of her body.

By that time, my aunt’s hopes for remission had been dashed and she decided she would accept no more treatment except pallitive care to see her through to the end.  At the end, my aunt said that in retrospect she wished she hadn’t opted for the chemo hoping to live longer only to waste the last year of her life being sick from chemo. 

In my aunt’s case, she was very unlucky that the doctors missed the cancer during earlier scans and she was also unlucky because of the location of the cancer spread to her spine.  It’s hard to say that things might have gone differently under slightly different circumstances.  That she was my favourite aunt and a mother to me during the early years of my life has not made her passing any easier - only the usual regrets that I didn’t spend more time with her at the end or that I should have been more supportive.

Towards the end, she was suffering so much she kept asking to go.  To have hoped for her to live longer would have been to wish more suffering upon her.  It is still hard to believe she’s gone when my memories of her are so vivid and alive.  It is always difficult to accept death before we deem it a person’s time to go.  I guess that old adage is a good one to live by: “carpa diem!” because your last day might be sooner than you think.

In Chinese culture, filial piety is very important.  One of the duties that demonstrates filial piety is the taking the responsibility of looking after the elderly in their old age.  Although the Chinese tradition is for the sons to look after the elderly, in this modern day, it is equally applicable to both sons and daughters to assume the responsibility of looking after the elderly. 

Raised in a Western society, there were a lot of Chinese traditions that I was never made aware of.  However, this Chinese tradition was not one of them.  From an early age, my parents inculcated the importance of filial piety and the need to look after the elderly in their old age. 

When hubby and I got married, we had originally decided we wanted to live on our own, however the hubby made it clear that my in laws would eventually move in and live with us as they grew older.  Having been raised to that expectation, I have never had an issue with this.  In fact, had he not believed in this practice, I would have assumed that responsibility because it was what I had been taught since young.

What I never expected was to be living with my in laws during the early part of our marriage - even if it was intended to be a temporary measure.  Even more unexpected was that I would be living in the house of my in laws, rather than they living in our house. 

What’s the difference, you ask? Well, when you live in someone else’s house (even one that you call home), there are certain expectations that you need to follow just because this house belongs to them.  That means that there are a lot of things you cannot do because you need to be mindful of the person who runs the house (at least, that’s how it should be if you respect that person’s feelings).  When you own the house, you have greater liberty to do as you please.

This minor adjustment is something I could live with since it is, after all, just a temporary measure.  What I found most challenging was learning to understand the way my in laws tick because they are very different people to my parents.  When you stay in close quarters with others, there is always a greater tendency to inadvertantly rub sandpaper on raw skin.  Learning how to live together takes time and effort.

For instance, when I was a kid, my Dad had a pretty explosive temper.  Now that he’s older, he seems to have mellowed out somewhat - either that or distance has made his temper seem cooler.  What I discovered while I was growing up was that giving my Dad a wide berth when he was mad was often the best thing to do.  My Dad appreciated the time to cool off on his own and I developed a similar preference of wanting to be left alone when I was mad at something that wasn’t in reference to anyone in particular.

So on days when my MIL lost her temper, I tended to stay away from her - to give her the time to cool down without being underfoot.  Little did I realise was that with my MIL, this is exactly what you should not do.  It took me a while to discover this, but I’m glad I did, because at least now I know how to help her better.

Even though living with my in laws is a very different experience to living with my own parents, there are a number of practices that my MIL has that I like.  For instance, I like how they always wait (whenever possible) for everyone to get home first before having dinner so we can all sit down together for a meal on a regular basis.  In my house, we only ate together if everyone happened to be home at the same time.  Sometimes, we didn’t eat together because someone would be busy doing something else around the house, or another person wasn’t hungry yet.  What I like about eating together is that it encourages bonding for strong family ties.

Although we had a number of teething periods when we first moved in, I find they grow less and less as we spend more time together and learn to live together.  If I felt intimidated by the idea of living with my in laws in their house initially, I can honestly say that I do enjoy living here now.  That said, I still look forward to the time when we will move into our own house because I want a place of my own to furnish as I please.  My TY bears are still waiting for a proper home outside of a plastic box, Gavin still needs a dedicated play area that he can freely mess up and be responsible for, and I want an area where I can set up my ergonomic computer desk and chair.  I also want my own kitchen because I’ve always felt more comfortable cooking in my own space - knowing exactly what I have stock of and what utensils and equipment I have available.  Cooking in someone else’s kitchen just isn’t the same.

“When I have no time for me, I have no time for anyone.”

As a SAHM, finding a block of time that I can completely dedicate to myself with minimal interruptions is rather rare. In order to fulfil this need, I started to stay up after Gavin had gone to bed so I can spend some time writing, reading or just surfing the internet.

Although it means I usually get less sleep, I find filling this need for personal time just as important as getting sleep. On the nights when I am too tired to stay up or if I didn’t get a chance to go online for whatever reasons, I tend to veer off into two different modes during the day. I either feel more agitated and irritated easily, or I start to feel listless and a meaninglessness of my existence. And when I feel either of these emotions, I am unable to give the best of myself to the people I love.

Of course, to say that my existence is meaningless tends to diminish the importance of my son, but in no way do I mean that. If he weren’t so important to me, I would be off conquering the world and chasing after my career like the ambitious Type A personality that I am. Yet, at the same time, when I was on my own chasing careers and rock climbing grades, there was also a lack of meaning in my life.

I guess what I’m saying is that I need balance in order to feel fulfilled and to lead a meaningful life - at least one that is meaningful to me anyway. By balance, I’m referring to a need for personal time, personal achievements and of course family time. As a professional Mum, I don’t have any problems managing the latter, but it’s the first two aspects that I find difficult to fit into my life.

In an attempt to kill two birds with one stone, I try to combine my personal time with some sort of personal achievement. For instance, I spend my personal time blogging because I love to write and having something published online (no matter how trivial it might at sometimes) is about as big a personal achievement as I’m likely to get right about now. With the stigma on SAHMs being quite useless and brainless - at least that’s the impression that is conveyed to me whenever I write down “profession: homemaker” - I’ll relish whatever achievements I can pat myself on the back for and live up whatever past laurels I can hold on to just to stay sane.

It’s difficult to articulate how I feel about being a SAHM. When working Mum friends tell me how luck I am to be able to stay home with my son, I have to agree that I am blessed. But for those to think I get to stay home and do nothing, I seriously beg to differ. Raising a child is exhausting because you have to be a playmate, a companion, a teacher and a mother all at once. And when you have to do this all day and be on call all night, even the most dedicated mother needs a break from time to time just to stay sane.

Choosing to raise a high-needs toddler with a responsive parenting style, especially when he demands a lot of my time, creativity and patience, has been a very enriching experience and it has also taught me a lot about myself. However, it has also made me aware of how important “me” time is. “Me” time is a chance for me to reflect on my experiences, to think about more complex adult issues, and to dream. When I have “me” time, I find myself to be more energised, more willing to give and generally, a happier person.