This morning, I have to play the wicked stepmother. Last week, my boy got all worked up over one thing I said and he ended up with a fake headache and almost bursting dam plus ‘I am going to puke in your new Viva’ look. I only reminded him that he is going to a school field (far away from kindie) with his kindie friends and teachers to practise for their sports day. He acted dramatically traumatised like I told him Hitler is sending him to the gas chamber like that.
Anyway, I told the teacher when I handed the drama king over to her and she assured me they will fetched him in the principal’s car instead of travelling in the school van. I was praying silently he won’t puke in her car. The ‘headmaster’ is a very nice lady and the kindie is from the American church. So, their prayers very kerng one. Every morning also pray, preach,
brainwash and sing. (I am not very fond of too much religious teachings to young kids btw but it is better than none at all, so….) Therefore, I spend the morning telling myself nothing will happen to him.
Today, is even more upsetting to him. Last week, I told him that I will come one hour later and he can have his lunch with his friends. I assured him ONE only, ONE very fast one, ok? However, I dare not bring up the subject yesterday or this morning because I know he is going to throw up a fuss again. He probably forgot all about it. I only told him when I handed him to his teacher.
Man….was I guilty. I caught him by surprise but he cannot change his mind because he was already in the assembly and praise and worship was about to begin. So, I quickly hugged him, assured him I will fetch him in less than ONE hour after my/his class. I also do not know how much the kindie is going to charge me for taking care of his lunch and the one hour care. I guess it will be a half-day care charge but what to do….I terribly need to attend the Developmental Psychology class so I need to be the wicked stepmum.
After all the stress and guilt of lying to him, I drove to class. I was imagining what freedom I would have if I had chosen to be single. In my class, there are three of them who are retired, not married and they get to do anything and go anywhere they like. Of course, I am not saying I don’t appreciate my family but it is one of those fantasies whereby I let my mind roam with all the possibilities.
I only have myself to deal with. I get stay in single room condominium (i.e. if I am rich lah). I don’t need to answer to anyone, only me, myself, I. I get to keep all my money and spend on myself only. I can pack my clothes and go to Timbuktu anytime I fancy. I can do whatever I want. Sex is easily dealt with, ok? So, with that sort of fantasy, I went to class. I was envying those who just go to class without all the guilt and baggages I have to carry. I had to look at the clock and cabut the moment the bell rings and drive at super speed, jumping yellow lights and avoiding school jam etc to get to kindie on time and have to lie and act ‘oh, you forget mommy said you must stay back after school?’ etc etc.
And what do I get for our first lesson? Our lecturer pumped into us that we must have dreams. To live is to change. We must pursue our dreams. In the Bible, in the Book of Proverbs, it says we must dream.
Yah……right….my dream is to be a rich spinster with a nice penthouse, toy boys and butlers and male cooks to serve me.
So, the lecturer asked us if we agree that we have to have dreams to live. I told him, “As a Christian, I have this faith that everything is in God’s will. I may have dreams but usually, I leave it to God. If it doesn’t turn out fine, I shall just see it as God’s will and move on to other things.”
Come to think of it, when my boys are all grown up (#2 son, remember hor, I don’t jaga grandkids one), and my old man may have run away with a China doll, I really can pursue my dreams. Woo hoo! Dream on! *do the Susan Boyle hip shakes, roarrrrr*