For the past days, Mama has been coming over to the house to help take care of Jamaine.
My baby’s yaya got sick and asked to take a 2-week leave.
Though I was able to get a replacement helper, I didn’t have much time to “break her in.” Jamaine cannot get along with her just yet. My baby would cry desperately every time Kernan or I leave the house causing me to worry about her the whole day I’m at work.
So to ease my baby’s agony and my anxiety, Mama agreed to take care of Jamaine until the week ends. Needless to say, I felt so relieved. Mama would arrive at the apartment before I leave for work and she would stay until I get home.
Jamaine seems to like this arrangement because she’s had a happy temper since my mom took over.
I’m also pleasantly surprised to find the house neater and more organized. My closet which usually looks like a jungle suddenly looked like a real closet with clothes properly folded and segregated.
I guess you could say organizing things is one of my mom’s special talents. Our house feels more like a home when she’s around.
I’ve always admired how Mama has turned housewifery into an art.
Even if we lived in very small and not-so-nice houses for most of our lives, Mama always managed to prettify our home.
She would place lovely curtains by the window, flowers in the sala and little ornaments around the house. To cover cracked and unpainted walls, she would borrow air tools from my uncle and drill holes for placing picture frames and crosstitch projects. She would line drawers with gift wrapping paper to cover the peeling paint of old cabinets and sew together extra pieces of cloth to make cushion covers.
I had hoped I inherited my Mama’s creativity around the home but I’m beginning to doubt if I did. Yes, I can fold and segregate stuff but I don’t seem to have the knack for organizing things into pretty little boxes or hanging photos on the wall. Sometimes I wonder if I could ever really be a housewife.
I’m hoping I would acquire the skill over time especially when Kernan and I start planning for our own home.
In any case, I’m just glad I could always run to Mama when I need her.
Most of the time, I act like this grown up ready to take on the world, but sometimes I just want to be what I had always been: her little baby girl.
