Responsibility

Sometimes, I ask myself: why on earth did I want to have a child?

Don't get me wrong. I love Jubi, and because I love her, I am willing to give up a career which defined me as a person. Because I love Jubi, I am no longer just Eveline. I am also Jubi's mother and Jubi's friend.

Having a child complicates matters. And forces you to be a responsible person, which sometimes, I'd rather not be.

If I get into a squabble, a fight with the spouse, having a child makes you think twice (thrice even) before you hurl that cup of milo at that spouse. Having a child stops you from walking out even when you're at breaking point and feel like you want to fling yourself out from the tallest building.

Having a child in your arms makes you rethink the way you show your anger. Even though you want to hurt yourself and your spouse in that moment of anger, you would never want to hurt your baby by hurting the people she loves.

After having my own family, I've come to realise how spoilt I am. How wanting I am in being a responsible, selfless mother.

Do I always think of the child first? No I don't. Sometimes, I yell at her for trifles. Many times, I've shown violent behaviour while quarrelling with the spouse, causing the little girl to look so frightened that it is forever etched in my mind.

Once, I hurled a bag while in a quarrel. Afterwards, the little one asked in a little, worried voice that broke my heart: Mama throw bag. Why?

And when I sobbed, she put her little arm over my neck and cried with me, not knowing why I cried. But still she wanted to protect the imperfect mama who had forgotten about her baby's fears in her self-pity.

Why did I throw the bag? Why did I choose to forget that I am no longer just Eveline?