Life as a WAHM

I’m sharing snippets about my journey as a WAHM over at the Focus on the Family blog today.

Most days, I hardly have the time to run to the toilet, much less sit and type an email. Then I feel like a crazy juggler, with more balls up in the air than I can handle. So what’s left to do but to multi-task, drop a few less important things like doing groceries or searching for a lost piece of Lego, grab a coffee (somehow this never gets dropped) and tell myself that I’ll get better at this.


Hop over and have a laugh…I mean, read.

Honey, I shrunk your budget

That hit me on a bright sunny morning. The news that my hubby had shrunk my monthly budget. And then it turned gloomy.


I should have seen it coming.


I’ve made the leap to go part-time. I woke up one day and thought to myself, ‘what, another zombified morning, and I still have to get dressed and go to work?’ (Now, I know a lot of mums out there make it to work despite nights of broken sleep. And if that’s you, I don’t know how you do it, but you have my utmost admiration.)

But then, it’s not JUST the tiredness. It’s also the growing desire within me to spend more time at home coaching the kids.

Vera is fast turning 3, and I’ve been feeling like I can barely keep up with her developments. She’s showing greater interest in craft activities, music and dance, story-telling, and is starting to identify familiar alphabets. And the fact that she spends the bulk of her week in childcare really gets to me at times.


I’ve been feeling a little ungrounded, like you know, feet off the floor kinda feeling. And I think it’s because I haven’t had my daily doses of quietness. Ever since the arrival of baby J, the days have been a mad rush, like a long sentence punctuated only by nap times, and I don’t reach the full-stop until midnight.

I feel like I need to catch my breath. And my daily time-out. It allows me to know I’m alive. Instead of just going through the motions.


I leaped.

After the leap, I ding-donged between pure exhilaration and fear. Excited about the prospect of being a bit more ‘free’, but oh so fearful about the dent in our income. Will we struggle? Will this stress the hubby out?

I was also worried about how my colleagues would feel, and whether I would still be able to pull my weight.

Amidst all that worrying, a soft voice within me reminded me that though I can’t see the future clearly, I know the one who leads me, and he has a good plan and purpose for me.


I’ve accepted. My new title. My new working hours. My shrunk budget.

I know I’ll survive.

I think.

Bye, baby. Hello, work desk.

Next week officially marks the demise of my maternity leave. It will be a black, black Monday. I will wear of course wear the colour for the occasion.

Why the doom and gloom? Mainly because I feel totally unprepared – my nails are long, my eyebrows unkempt, my mind filled with breastfeeding and diapers, and the thought of checking a long list of unread emails does seem a bit too daunting for my mental state at the moment.

But then again, this is for baby No. 2, so I should be well-adjusted by now. Right?

Well, the essentials are in place –

  • schedule for baby-carers – check
  • milk-presso machine – check
  • ice pack – check
  • hot water bottle to aid milk flow – check
  • sterilising tablets – check
  • milk bags – check
  • baby photos to stimulate happy thoughts – check

So…what’s missing?

I guess if you look into the heart, the problem is almost always there. When maternal instincts kick in, every fibre of your being wants to be close to your child, to tend to him when he cries, to make sure everything’s alright, to witness every developmental milestone he crosses. (Baby J has just mastered his rollover!)

That’s one of the misses of being a full-time working mum.

As usual, I try to distract myself with all the things I need to do, including getting my eyebrows plucked. At the very least, I should try to look good for the occasion?

But, no. I’m still learning to let go. Let go of the mummy-things from 9-6 on weekdays, of the worries and fears of the 2154 things that could possibly happen to the kids when I’m away.

And the next step? Letting God handle it. Okay, he won’t check my emails for me, but he will take care of things at home surely. This is one of the perks of following and loving our good God…knowing that he will never fail, even when I stumble all over myself.

What tips would you give to a going-back-to-work mum like me? 😛

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