I arrive home at about 8pm. I open the door and see Mr.Hubby surrounded by Irfan and Umairah. Irfan would usually be in his arms and Umairah would not be far away, wanting more attention than what Irfan gets. After a tiring day at work and a long drive back home, I wish I could plop down onto the sofa for a few minutes...but that wouldn't happen.
I head straight to the kitchen and cook express 'dinner' or heat yesterday's leftover. If Umairah and Irfan both screams at the same time, another voice would be screaming too and suddenly I have three babies instead of two. Mr.Hubby would rather take over the dinner preparation (but not do the dishes) and I would be in the living room with the kids. Around midnight, when everyone has been fed, the dishes has been done, items for tomorrow's nursery bags have been packed, laundry hung to dry in-house, I lay down with sleeping Umairah and Irfan, only to wake up every one and a half hour later to feed Irfan and start all over again at 5.30am.
This is my life's routine every working day (Monday to Friday) ever since we moved into our own house instead of staying with my parents. At a glance, it doesn't seem like much but if you look closely, it's a perfect little nucleus family; with perfect kids and a secure routine. To fall asleep every night beside the kids and Mr.Hubby – priceless.
No comments:
Post a Comment