I have three children. One daughter and two sons. My daughter lives with my mom, whose house is just 150 meters away. I miss my daughter. I miss having someone to have crazy girl talks with, or exchange magazines, or even to just sit and watch chick flicks with. She is so busy with work that sometimes, during the weekends, all she does is sleep. Someday, when things are not so hectic anymore, maybe I can spend some time with her.
|My daughter (in the red shirt) and my niece (white top)|
What is it like for a woman to live in a house with three males? Let me sum it up in two words - Tired and Chaotic.
Men always expect someone to pick up after themselves. Every morning when I come home from work, the first thing that catches my eye are the used plates, bowls and utensils in the kitchen sink. And then there are the candy wrappers, empty foil packs of whatever, and a hamper full of dirty laundry.
Men can actually cook, but they opt not to. For some reason, I am left with the task of cooking three full meals a day. I slave over the stove, making sure they have something yummy to eat. Sometimes, I am just so dead tired, I do not even have the appetite to eat what I prepared.
Men are the worst when it comes to budgeting. I am also the one in charge of minding the family budget. It is a mind-boggling task to make sure we have a little bit of savings, enough food, paid utility bills, tuition money and spending cash. I try to cut down on as much as I can, however, these boys think that I have found Yamashita's treasure!
Men have a knack for keeping the house dirty. It really makes me wonder if there was one point in time that I paid for the exclusive rights to use the bucket, the mop, the rag and the cleaning sponge. It seems these things have labels on them that says, "For the exclusive use of Mama."
Men are the noisiest creatures on earth. Put these three together in the living room, turn on the television and make them watch a basketball game. Serve them cold beer and some chips and you no longer need to go to a stadium. Boy, can they scream!
Men are scared of cockroaches. So very true. All those biceps, triceps and six pack abs are no match against a one inch crawler. Once you hear a "thump, thump, thump" better be ready with a broom, rolled up newspaper or the can of bug spray. Wonder woman to the rescue! My youngest son even said, "those things think they're butterflies!"
Men are not very handy. Maybe some are, but not mine. I am a part time plumber, electrician, and carpenter too. The toolbox is mine - my pliers, my set of screwdrivers, hammer, vise-grip and wrenches. My trusted companions to help me save money and a trip to the repair shop.
I know everyday is a challenge to cope up with all these tasks. As messy, noisy, lazy and weird these men are, I love them so much. They love teasing me, and share jokes with me. Sometimes, they volunteer to help me around the house. (Which sometimes makes me scared because I know there's something they will ask in exchange). They are concerned when my sugar levels are not good, and they never fail to end their text messages with "I love you."
My family is my treasure. They are the most beautiful blessing I have received from God. We are the perfectly imperfect family and tired as chaotic it may be everyday, I am still truly happy to have them in my life.