Turning 31 as a SAHM

I thought that my 31st birthday would be just like any other day, especially since the hubby had said that he would be out of town. Instead, it turned out that his schedule got delayed and not only did we enjoy a fun family celebration, he also took the effort to arrange a surprise gathering with my closest buddies.

We had a good chat, which was mainly about the girls updating on their current job statuses. One had just quit her current bank job and was on the search for better prospects, one just returned from being a stay-at-home mum in London and found a job here shortly, and a couple of others who were busy manning companies as directors and marketing managers.

Me? Of course, I kept quiet most of the time. I didn't really think that they would be interested to know about Ariel's recent hives outbreak or that Angel is learning the lyrics of "Let it go". For some reason, while these sounded like engaging topics to blog about or talk to fellow SAHMs, they didn't really seem like appropriate ones to bring up at the dinner table.

As it turned out, on that evening when I blew out the candles, there were many thoughts running through my mind. Many of which were unexpected.

Perhaps it was a realisation that out of all of us, I was the only one who chose to go down the path of being a SAHM. I thought the one who stayed overseas with two kids might have followed suit, but it turns out that she is happier to have a life outside of the kids and they are now in full day childcare and infant care.

Perhaps it was a feeling of inferiority and unjust because *ahem*, I was the one who passed all my exams in school with flying colours. No, I was neither a nerd nor the most hardworking student around, but I was really lucky and managed to ace all my exams. 3A* and 1A at PSLE, 7A1 and 2A2 at GCE 'O' Level, 4A at GCE 'A' Level and A1 in General Paper, a Bachelor degree with second upper honours from NTU and a Masters degree obtained in Sweden. Not bad, right? Bragging rights? Now, look at where the grades got me - a stay-at-home mum.

Perhaps it was a moment of truth when I discovered that even though we all grew up together and have been through thick and thin in our two decades of friendship, it was undeniable that we had different priorities and different mindsets in our very different lives.

You see, I could jolly well be whipping up excel charts and powerpoint decks instead of steamed cod fish and sesame oil chicken. I could be slinging on a handbag instead of a 10-kg baby. I could be changing office suits and heels instead of soiled diapers and pyjamas. I could be reading up on new projects instead of Gruffalo's Child. I could be writing proposal plans instead of alphabet revision sheets.

I could be all dolled up sitting in a meeting room instead of looking like a hag in the kitchen. I could be tuning in to YES93.3FM in the office and tuning out of incessant whining and wailing at home. I could be packing lipsticks and PDA into my bag instead of baby biscuits and wet wipes. I could be comfortably seated alone on the train as I commute to work instead of having to hold onto a baby, a kid and a stroller every time I take a bus.

I could. I really could.

But, do I want to?

The answer has all along been there, right? N-O, No.

I can only remind myself that it has always been my choice and in the first place, I am lucky to even have a choice because I know of fellow mums who would trade anything to be in my shoes. I can only take one look at the girls every time my heart desires to do something more with my life and be thankful that I am there by their side, each day every day, in their growing up years. I can only be glad to have a hubby who supports my decision and a mum who does not think that I am wasting her efforts of raising me through 18 years of formal education.

It's not that I don't get weary or that I have extraordinary powers to push me on. There are really days when I question myself and times when I wonder if I will ever regret my decision, especially when the kids drive me up the wall or break my heart. I am not saying that life as a full-time working mum will be easier or more fulfilling, which in any case it might turn out twice as hard and not even half as rewarding, I am just confessing to the fact that sometimes, I just doubt myself and ponder about my life.

Yes, I am human after all. Just so you know, especially those of you who write in to say that I am an inspiring and super mum, it is a fact that I scream, I break down, I go crazy, I get stressed, I feel like banging my head just like how some of you do at times. It has never been easy being a SAHM and it never will be, right?

Then again, we can always go back to find work when the kids are a little older. We might not aspire to join in the rat race, climb up the corporate ladder or crave for high-paying jobs anymore. Instead, it is that sense of achievement, that satisfaction, that feeling of being a useful member of society that we might be seeking. In that case, we do have a lifetime to work.

But our kids? They only grow up once. Miss it and those days are gone forever.

So, for now, I am happy to remain as a stay-at-home mum, to watch my girls grow up day by day, to mend heartaches, chase fears and kiss boo-boos, to relish the wonders of motherhood, to know that this is a very precious phase of my life which I will look back in my twilight years and have absolutely no regrets.

Happy birthday to me.

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