On being a Wife

If being a wife was a test, I would be a total failure. Hell, I would not even marry myself. I went through so much that I could not bring myself to trust anyone. I only earn a small amount of money. I do not have an inheritance to my name. Over the year, I have put on so much weight. I am at loss at fashion. I cannot even put on a decent makeup to my face. Did I mention I am terrible in the kitchen & household chores too?

I guess some of us are not meant to do the wife-role or maybe whatever I do will never be enough or perfect for this role. This is a test that I only have one shot of, & I failed at this.

But this role has given me two adorable angels. When I look at my two girls - I see hope & strength. Hope for myself, that maybe someday, I will be happy for who I am. And strength, knowing that all the struggles are worth it, because I know I am doing these for them.

From a Very Tired Mommy

If motherhood was a test, I have failed. My children often catch the cold. Unica is underweight. I get criticised & blamed for every wrong deed my children do. At this point, all I can think of is how I miss my mother. It did not fully hit me how hard she worked for the family, until I became a mother myself. Now, I experienced how the things I do are taken for granted.

Yes, they acknowledged the hardships I went through during pregnancy & childbirth. But let me tell them this, the pregnancy was the easiest phase. Raising two rascals, managing a household, & working full-time are very difficult tasks to take on.

So if you see me make a mistake, or miss something, please be kind. A little help from your end will come a long way. I need all the help I can get. I am struggling.

I may not be able to do this the way my mom did, but somehow I know that along this journey, I will figure out all of this. I will take on the motherhood tests, several times as I can, until I get this right. At the end of the day, I have two lovely rascals who I know will hold me close to their hearts, no matter what happens.

When Nothing Fits

Cinderella got her happy ending when she tried on the shoe. To be honest, I only have few pairs of shoes that fit me now. I am 3 months post pregnancy. However, nothing seems to change. It is frustrating & infuriating to rummage through my clothes, try on a few pieces and find nothing that will fit. My body has deteriorated. I am an ugly, fat, old woman.

But you know what fits me now? She does. Her name is Ulyana Maxine. Her fingers fit perfectly into my palm. She snuggles just fine against my body. And when I carry her, she fits just right in my arms.  I felt that I was built just for her. 

My shoes do not fit me, but I still have my happy and perfect ending in Ulyana. She is worth all these struggles. My fears vanish when I look at her. I know that no matter what will happen, I will be loved. Loved by her. And I love her just the same and more.

Merry Christmas my dear Ulyana. You make mommy so happy everyday. 

Listen

The norms of today defined us - on how we think, and on how we react. You are the employee, who meets deadlines. You are the daughter, who sends money home. You are the wife, who serves the husband. You are the mother, who nurtures the children. 

When something goes wrong, you are still expected to continue with your roles. Amidst all your struggles, you are still the loyal employee, the obedient daughter, the faithful wife, and the loving mother. On your moment of crisis, the world will not hold your hand. The world will not stop for you.

I wish we all have that small window, a small pause, when we can just say what we want, with no judgement or no name-calling from anyone. I wish that even for a fleeting moment, we can just be broken. 

But the world demands perfection. Anyone broken is replaced. They move on without you. 

We do not allow ourselves to be left behind. No matter how hard it is, we rise up everyday and meet the demands. And maybe, at the end of each day, on our hidden nooks, we cry our hearts out. The world will not see us. They do not need to know.

#Latepost (written last September)

Being strong is relative. I can work extended hours each day, manage to drag myself out of bed, and come to office on time the next day. I can raise a toddler who throws tantrums anytime she feels like it, refuses anyone to feed her, and sleeps so late into the night. I can stay in a marriage, which has its own flaws and struggles. And to top it all, I am growing a small human in my body, carrying this precious gift for months, adjusting to all the changes and bearing the pain.

Like I said, being strong is relative. I may look that I can handle all these things and more. But no, I am exhausted. Tired. Extremely upset. Done. In this area, I am not strong. I never was. 

You know where my true strength lies? It is when you see me smile, even though feelings of hurt & sadness are welled up inside me. It is when I try to stay calm in moments of despair. It is when I still have faith amidst the disbelief and doubts.

Then I can always look at the alternate truth, or the other side of the coin. Work, no matter how exhausting, eventually gets me the money at the end of each month. The toddler, no matter how spoiled she has become, will ultimately grow up to be my pride and joy. There will always be the friendship and partnership that binds two people in a marriage, no matter the struggles. And of course, the joy of the upcoming newborn is nothing compared to the pain that I am going thru now.