Saturday, May 7, 2016

On The Day I Don't Have to do House Chores



Before I was a mother, I loved the idea of Mother’s Day.  It’s the day I celebrate the woman who gave birth to me and who raised me and my siblings with all her heart. I enjoyed celebrating the day of the most unselfish woman on earth I have ever known, my mother.


Then I got married. My husband and I enjoyed each other for three years before we decided to have a family. We’re lucky the process of baking the “bun in the oven” was not that laborious for us. Then I entered the world of motherhood. A tough world that I wish someone, especially my mother would have told me more about. I have been in so many different professional jobs before and by far, motherhood is the most difficult job I have ever experienced. This job requires the highest level of education on earth which technically does not exist. No level of degree will ever prepare myself for this job and even to this day, after doing it for almost ten years I still don’t think I am good at it. It is a job that noone can ever be called ‘an expert’. A very progressive job and I am still progressing.


I have been so fulfilled with motherhood. Everyday with my children is like a dream come true. We have the most fun. Being a mother has been my most favorite thing. It is not because that’s how I was told to feel. It’s not because being a mother is better than being a doctor or a lawyer or a journalist or whatever. Certainly not because I am biologically wired that way. I have to go through so many pain to make babies, emotionally. Many chemicals are involved. But I am so fulfilled by motherhood and feel so honored and lucky to get to do it. I suspect it is for the same reason I like noodle soup and have wide nose: because I came out that way, for whatever reason.


Since I became a mother, I don’t always like the idea of Mother’s Day. Mother’s Day has always been about my mom, not me. Oh by the way,  celebration of Mother’s Day in Indonesia is on December 22nd.  I have a mix feeling about it, like right now, a day before the day. I sometime don’t like the sanctimonious tone it can take. I don’t like to propagate the idea that every mothers should feel most fulfilled by the same thing. I don’t like the smug self sacrifice, I don’t like the idea just because we got knocked up we deserve some kind of recognition. And if you haven’t been that, you don’t qualify. I don’t know why I feel this way sometimes. It must have come from a sore place; stories about how horrible a mother can be, whereas there are many wonderful women out there who did not get this recognition even though they want it so badly and they have been trying and waiting patiently to make it happen.

But, I do love my children. I love my days with them. I love how they make me laugh, how they make me proud, how they make me upset, how they make me worries, how they make me question my sanity.  I love my faulty hormones, I love how my body changed because of them. I really do. It’s just like a constant reminder to me that I once carried two babies in my uterus and I took care of that growing uterus and the babies inside it for 9 months, twice. I love how I had the healthiest lifestyle when I carried them in my womb. I love my college education and I love my sometimes feminist rants combined with my conservatives values that make people rolled their eyes on me. I love how I feel empowered to be a woman and a mother. I love how I discovered my multiple talents since I became a mother and I have my progesterone hormone to thank for, I guess. I love the reminder once a year to celebrate my own mother, who is the least selfish and the most fiercest woman on the planet earth. She is the epitome of hard work, faith and love, positive attitude, and she is the smartest woman who is so good in math that I have ever known. My own mother is a force.

A few weeks ago when I learned one of my ex-coworker that I closely worked with adopted a baby, I was in tears. She is one of the sweetest woman I have ever known. She has been married for longer than I have but she was not given the most wonderful gift a woman can get until she and her husband decided to adopt a baby. I respect her and her husband even more for that.  This Mother’s Day will be the first Mother’s Day for her. I am so thrilled she gets to celebrate it. She deserves the recognition. She deserved it even before she adopted a baby.

On this mother's day I want to celebrate the women who are still waiting for the store to open so they can bake their bun in the oven. I want to celebrate the women who do not have the bun in the oven and buy it instead. I want to celebrate the women who are so good at taking care of other women’s bun even though they never make a batch themselves. I want to celebrate the women like me, the un-flawless one, who sometimes yelled at her kids when she is occupied with anxiety.


Cheers to me, and to us because tomorrow I don't have to worry about house chores!!!

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