If I can cut myself into pieces and station pieces of me at everyplace that I have to be I would.
Our time now is mostly spent on the road, sometimes with the lil one in tow. We lead crazy topsy turvy lives. Sometimes I wonder if we would ever experience any sort of normalcy ever. I wonder if it would affect Ayra in anyway.
We have stuff in four places and we are always carrying three bags in the car for each of us. The backseat of the car is filled with files, plastic bags, the baby car seat my EBM ( expressed breast milk) equipment, towels, baby blankets, and more files.
Sometimes halfway on our way to work, we forget something back home and sometimes halfway on our way back home we get calls to come back to the office. Ayra is transferred from one place to the next macam nomad botak yg kecik . From small asyik on the move.
Our conversations consist of planning for the next day, week and month to coincide with our monthly work schedules and who would be available to replenish Ayra’s milk supply by lunchtime.
Sometimes I wonder if I’am really crazy to insist that my daughter is given breastmilk and minimal formula milk?
In between our attempts to spend time with Ayra spend time together, fill work commitments, fill family commitments and catch some sort of sleep, I can barely gather myself together, I feel like a bomb ready to explode at any minute.
And to make matters truly wonderful, I don’t even have a voice to scream.
I now know that my parents are superhumans. And I’am the daughter that did not inherit any of their superhuman abilities, because I feel like crawling into a dark hole and hibernating.
I also know now that 24hours in a day is never enough.
Okay. I’am going to pass out now.