The Bane of Mommies

Obviously, I would suck if I were a lyricist or an author, trying to name a thing, a book or a nukilan. Bane and mommies should never go together.

And that is why I guess, I'm stuck at blogging and baking and trying to be a mom.

Talking about being a mom. I might not have noticed it before but the minute Aliya popped out of me and changed my status from a hip chick to a mom, I became one, regardless if I felt the same person that I was before. *if you do not understand this, me neither*

And these days it's apparent.

2 weeks ago, the whole neighbourhood were jolted by sms-es of a 7 yo boy kidnapped in front of his house at 8:20am. I received no less than 5 sms-es. Aliya came home reporting that all of her friends' parents who live at BJ received the same sms-es. The sms didn't mentioned which street but had a name and a phonenumber. It looked authentic. Alarm bells sounded and warnings were promptly issued to my kids and the maid, Andes. It turned out that it was a hoax and that the exact same sms was circulated with a Subang Jaya address before.

Such a sick sick joke !

Anyhow, there's been talks too of a foiled kidnapping attempt at school few months ago because the man who was supposed to pick up "his" child did not know that the child was off sick that day. And of course news of kids being snatched at roundabouts make hearts like mine, quiver with fear.

I worry. Mothers worry. It's never-ending. When you think you're just not care right now, you can't because the nature of a mom is to worry and cause grey hair to sprout more.

Then last week, a colleague emailed a footage of CCTV of a maid literally kicking, stepping on, slapping a little girl and I had to stop watching it. It was too close to home. It was harrowing. It was too painful to watch. I join the bandwagon for career women who leave their kids in the care of a maid during the hours they spend at work and the risk is there, permanently. It scared me shitless. Seriously.

I'm a mother. Watching another child suffer is too much on my maternal instincts. We always put ourselves in that child's shoes and think what we think he is thinking. Too much analysing, I know. But that's what we do well.

I know that when I wait for Ayisha at school, each time a boy falls down or I hear a cry, I'd hurry and ask to help. Because deep in my heart, I hope that when of my mine does fall or cries for whatever reason, another parent would do the same for them like I do to theirs. Insyallah.