A new direction

There, it's final! With the click of the mouse, it means signed, sealed and delivered. I have paid for my maid's return ticket. She is going back to Indonesia. Period.

My life as I know it ends on August 24. I have been so blessed all these years that suddenly at the prospect of having no maid, I am at my wits' end at how I'm going to cope.

I've always prided myself on not sitting on my butt. Yes, I've got a wonderful helper, but I do help wash the dishes, pack up the house, do the gardening, and have taught the kids to be independent. As such, they can cook simple meals, wash up, and make their own beds (this only happens on very rare occasions).

But now, suddenly faced with the knowledge that there won't be anyone to 'chap sau mei' (handle the loose ends), I'm awashed with a feeling of panic.

I've been also blessed that all my helpers have been capable women (although some have been somewhat amorous and had to be terminated on those grounds). That they've gotten along with the family members and took wonderful care of mum and dad-in-law. I've been able to leave my household in their capable hands while I work with a peace of mind. I might have to do battle at the office, but at least at home, I don't have to come back after a long day and still have to put in the hours.

They say you have to close one eye as things may not be up your expectations. Heck, in the past, I've become practically blind. Some maids acted more like my nagging mother-in-law rather than I as the boss lady.

In any case, a new replacement is not in sight. I pray that I would not end up like my poor friend Sheila, whose maid ran away last December and is still struggling to find a new helper. she is in dire strait as she has a toddler and a eight-month-old baby to handle, and she had to quit her job as there was no one to help tide her through this rough period. She's still waiting and hoping. We're both down to Plan M or Q or whichever letter it is, as Plan A and B is long gone, crashed and hopeless. Somehow, all the agents we've called up and prospective maids that were supposed to turn up, all never worked out.

So now, as I would plan a project for work, I have to strategise my schedule as to how to fit housework, cooking and washing into 24 hours. I'm thinking I could get part-timer to help out, but the meals, shucks, my poor lamlets will be losing weight as I won't be around to whip up all those delicious food which kakak has been doing. Lamlet no 3 goes so far as to 'order' his 'menu' for the day and she grants his wish. She's a darling that way, also helps that she dotes on him. Not that I'm a bad cook, in fact, thanks to me, my maid picked up western and other local dishes to add to her repertoire. I'm just not around enough.

So I'm thinking, I could wash the bathroom and some clothes while bathing. Get the boys to cut the veggies and prepare the ingredients so that when I come home, I just whip it up. Anyone caught leaving things around unattended risk major fire. I remember the early days before the kids and maid arrived, some of the major squabbles between my other half and me were about housework. I've got my plans all laid out. But I've a sneaking suspicion that things will fall apart once reality bites.

The managing director of The Body Shop had this valuable piece of advice to offer. That I should learn and practice the 'soft skin snake' philosophy. I was in stitches when she explained. The snake is one who sways and moves every which way to avoid being caught, but basically it means being able to be flexible enough to outlast the others. Which means if there's a cup lying in the sink, stuff on the floor, I should not be tempted to do everything myself but withstand the temptation to clean and tidy, but turn a blind eye so that those responsible will do their part.

Yup, I'm trying to shed this old skin already ...