It’s now half past midnight. My washing is on the line and my house is spotless. The mountain of utensils on my kitchen sink is what I can’t get round to dealing with. But I put my babies to sleep when they were well fed and bathed and smelling nice, although that was only just a couple of hours ago. Yes, all the mums who put their babies to bed in the proper hours go ahead and denigrate me. I am still kind of awesome because I have prepared their breakfast. (Though to be honest, that is just because I function very well at night, and every morning I am so drunk with sleep that I often create a siesta in the mid-morning). Now you can begin to see why I miss my house help, because as soon as my babies get up my feet will hit the floor and remain there all day, and they will also be required to be in a good working and walking attitude.

Luckily, I had already written down this post late this afternoon. I tried to upload it but as soon as I sat at my computer desk, the following happened:


My baby decided to use the computer before me, literally.
My baby decided to use the computer before me, literally.

I therefore decided to go make dinner and the following happened:


Baby decided she also had kitchen-work.
Baby decided she also had kitchen-work.

I had to stop taking photos so as to try maintaining some order (no success story there either). Now you can start to understand the amount of washing on my kitchen sink.

Anyway, below is my write-up on why I was missing my house help so bad even before I had to work night shift. Every time she goes for an off, I miss and love her more.


I miss my house help. Despite that she has been gone just a day.

Being a stay-at-home-mum, one would expect that I have my act put together and I am running this house like a pro. Far from that!

It’s now 4:00pm,I have got some visitors whom I have currently abandoned my children to, and I am enjoying lying on the sofa seeing my first-born harass one into helping her colour her entire picture-book, never mind that I have insisted a thousand times before that the entire book does not have to be colored in one sitting. My other visitor is holding my eleven-months-old baby. (Wait; now they have exchanged roles, each seems to think the other’s role is easier). Still I lie on this sofa writing away. I need this break, and I have already told my visitors they are worth gold to me.

You may wonder why I have not instead rushed to the kitchen to fix dinner. It is simply because I need this break. And what better way to spend it than to write?

Just this morning I reminded my husband that babies nag their mums more than they do their nannies.

When my house help is here, she feeds my baby in thirty minutes max. With me, lunch took one and a half hours and the food is still unfinished. We took several nursing breaks in between bites, and reheated the food at least twice.

(My visitors have exchanged babies again).

When my house help is here, the baby sleeps at the right mid-morning time. That is when I catch a snooze. Today, I tried. I tried and tried again. My darling baby would only sleep when I am holding and nursing her, no sooner would I lay her in her cot than she would make a pitiful crying sound and raise those tiny arms as though I am disappearing from her world forever. Sigh!

Finally at 1:00pm she slept soundly enough for me to slowly lay her down and stealthily creep out of the room. Never mind I have a first-born to be picked from school at 3:00pm.I took a good time after she slept trying to decide when to wake her up, feed her,prepare her to leave with me and be in time for the school pick-up.

I miss my house-help.

But the worst was the poopy-décor part of the day. When I just removed her diaper, my milkman knocked on my gate. Now my milk guy is another story altogether, he loves to assume that a knock not answered means everything else but that we heard it not. So I put the baby on the floor to go check on the gate. What I did not realize is that she followed me right outside, crawling, and pooping along. Imagine my horror when I came back to my living room door…all the way to the bedroom. Grace to me!

Why these mishaps never happen when dear house help is around, I will never know. I miss my house help.

Now that two hours of the afternoon were spent feeding, there is no slot for an afternoon snack as I am trying to create an empty tummy that will appreciate dinner, hopefully. As well, my 3 year old won’t take her after-school-porridge as she usually does. She has said she is full. Why just today, I don’t know. I just miss my house help.


The guests want to leave, I must stop writing.

My pile of dirty utensils is growing by the minute.

Dinner is to be fixed. My baby wants to nurse.

My babies need to shower.

I need to freshen up. Hubby will come soon. Because I have had a few minutes to blog, he won’t find me so grumpy.


I think house helps finish their chores because they never take a break to lie on the sofa and try to forget about dirty utensils. I realize better that I should give my house help more breaks, more weekends off, because she sure does me a lot of good when she is here. I appreciate her for the endless giggles I hear from my babies when she is with them…if she only knew, she could ask for a pay-rise on that sole basis. She is also awesome because she cares enough to ask if the very spicy chicken I love to take could be contributing to my baby’s eczema (shock on me, the doctor suggested so too). Most importantly, she feeds my babies better than I do. She does her chores in good time and she lives with me despite my many rules and expectations. She never questions my decisions and is apologetic when she errs. Even though I sleep late and have to get up for night feeds and calls no matter how many they be, she wakes up early to take over and she meets my girls with a big and bright good morning greeting, whilst my style is to hush them back to sleep.

So, here is to my house help and all the other wonderful helps. You girls rock! You deserve more appreciation; you deserve your days off work, and you deserve decent pay. Very decent pay.

Mommy-day moments. Every day is not a rosy day, truth be told.
Mommy-day moments. Every day is not a rosy day, truth be told.

P.S: Stop worrying about my utensils, I have a husband and a half, and like our girls, he is an early bird. In the morning, I will look at my sink and smile, and I will be able to see outside through the window at the sink. Right now, its not possible. I miss my house help!


We have just woken up, i have been hushing babies back to sleep since 7:00am. My spotless house will not be spotless anymore, maybe until midnight again. I already have started playing judge, because no sooner does the older girl build her tower than the other one demolishes it with one quick deliberate sweep of the hand.

My house is only spotless during the always was, a long time ago when I had no babies.
My house is only spotless during the night…it always was, a long time ago when I had no babies.

But the real reason I have decided to update this post is this :

My sink is empty, and its clean. Let it be known that super men still do exist. Grateful to mine!
My sink is empty, and its clean. Let it be known that super men still do exist. Grateful to mine!

2 Replies

  • Tripple M

    Wah! The things we have to go through to see this little ones become great people who can change their generations. Thanx for the courage to write this. Be sure a number of us keep quite when we know we are overwhelmingly tired.

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