I don’t recall ever wanting a
glass bottle of wine as much as I did over Easter. Now that I think about it, I’ve been longing for some quiet time alone since around February. Initially, I wanted a spa treatment. Just a couple of hours of pampering one afternoon. It’s not too much for a girl to ask. After this Easter break, all I want is me alone with a bottle of some quality stuff. The spa can wait.
The first quarter of the year was extremely hectic for me. I always seemed to be running from one activity to another and quite frankly I’m tired. I want to do nothing for a day. To not have a schedule. I’ve been counting down months, weeks and now days to end of April when it promises to let up but now that I’m so close, it seems so far away.
One of the best things about raising children in our part of the world is the affordability of domestic help. I don’t know how women in the West manage this craziness and I hope to never have to find out. We get so accustomed to giving instructions on how baby should be fed, put down for her nap and general peace and sanity maintained in our homes we forget how to do it ourselves.
Mary, our wonderful help was going away for Easter. She was to leave on Saturday as I had an engagement on Saturday morning I absolutely could not cancel. I shopped well in advance for everything I would need to settle in for the long weekend nearly missing the Holy Thursday mass in the process. I was determined to make it to that service seeing as it would be the only one I’d be attending for the Easter season. The guilt of not doing so would kill me over the weekend.
Anyway, Mary and I agreed that I would leave for my early Saturday morning errand, she would feed the baby and leave her with her father and siblings. Everything would work out perfectly. I would be back just as baby was waking up from her mid-morning nap to feed her. Right? Wrong!
Okay, everything worked upto the point where Mary leaves.
I returned to find father, baby and both elder siblings sitting on the front porch looking quite distressed.
“Where have you been mum? “asked the eldest
“Has Mary left?”
“Yes, she left and now this one wont sleep”
I had explained this drill the night before but I’ve been accused of being a control freak so little attention was paid.
“How hard can it be?” the father had asked I was so glad he was discovering how hard it can be. Sitting there in the morning sun, he looked tired and it wasn’t even noon yet. I smiled.
“Dad put her in the pickup and drove around the neighbourhood with her until she fell asleep”
I burst out laughing. I can always depend on number two for the details.
“So how come she is awake now?”
“She woke up when dad was putting her down in her cot”
This was too funny. Even baby joined in waving her hands animatedly. Daddy still hadn’t spoken
“Ebu mshike” finally, he spoke
“I thought you said this would be easy”
“Yeah obviously, you have one advantage over me”. He said, referring to my supernatural-food production-out-of-my-bosom-ability.
From that moment on, I discovered what it’s like being Mary. I still don’t know how she does it. I’m in awe of her and I totally think she deserves a raise. I just hope she doesn’t read this blog. She might bargain more. I found myself counting down the hours to her return. When she did, I nearly hugged her.
Just as I’m recovering from that craziness and returning to my normal crazy routine, I get a phone call from my partner Lynnsieh saying I should contact one of our clients.
“Because she needs a media plan”
“And therefore….?” (She is the media planner in this relationship)
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I’m attending this wedding in coasto on Saturday”
“But today is Wednesday. When are you leaving?”
Now she is sending me selfies from some beach at South coast on her “mini vacay”. Why would you send your fat colleague selfies of your bikini clad self? How insensitive is that? Why can’t people give you the space you need to be angry at them?
Meanwhile, I’m sitting here trying to turn in a media plan for “Everywhere except the North. ASAP”
Where is that corkscrew?