A Way Out

We took Emma out to the Christmas Market at the neighbourhood mall yesterday. I had heard about this event while searching up some playgroups in the area. After her morning nap, we headed to McDonalds for breakfast as my cousins wanted to have a savory burger. I was not aware of a kids play corner at this McDonalds joint. My dad carried Emma to go have a look, but she cried after awhile. Perhaps, she was looking for me. She is still not comfortable being carried by my Dad. He brought her back to me and I carried her there again. There were two little girls playing excitedly. One girl’s name was Sophie, and the other was too shy to say her name out loud. Sophie even spelled out her name for me, and asked how to spell Emma. Emma loved looking at them play. Besides, she was enjoying the attention those girls were giving her. They were stroking her cheeks, showing her their toys, and letting her grab them. She was so happy, kicking her arms and feet excitedly.

The Christmas market, however, was a little noisy for her. She was still observing intently, but it was time for her second nap and she was getting quiet and tired. It was a long day out for her. I think she enjoyed it but she got overtired. When we got home, I tried to put her to nap but in vain. It was a disaster, she kept crying and protesting for an hour. Then we all decided to just bring her swimming since we just bought her a used wetsuit from the market, and my cousin was eager to play on the waterslide again.

There we were, giving Emma her first swim in the pool. I wanted to wait until my husband comes home so we could enjoy this moment of firsts’ together since he has been away from home for so long. But I had no choice, it was the best I could do if i had to keep her awake. She had fun, but fussed pretty bad when we took her out of the pool. She was definitely tired as she fell asleep while feeding during her bedtime routine. I didn’t have to sing a lullaby or read her a book.

Sometimes, I wonder if I am complaining too much. I could be labeled as the ungrateful daughter, who doesn’t know how to appreciate the help she is getting now that she is living with her parents. My parents have a housekeeper, who does all the laundry and cleaning. There is always food on the table come mealtimes. I do not have to stress about what to cook or eat.

However, I feel sometimes I am getting too much help. Also, maybe it is the way Malaysians talk around here. Comments and opinions are not tactful, which really annoys me. My husband asks each time I rant to him, “Do you want to move back to Canada?”
The thing is, I would love to have a home of our own. While living with my parents is a plus, I am still restricted. I cannot feel comfortable with my own privacy. I have told them that they can play and spend time with her but they must not interfere with my parenting methods. I do not think they listened. Every little thing I do or buy for her is constantly being judged. I hate this feeling. I feel like I am mentally in prison. My mom is always comparing me and Emma with others. My dad has a dog that is out of control. Emma always wakes up to his barks during her daytime naps. There is construction going on right outside my window … I just wish I was somewhere else raising this baby.

Although, I do want Emma to get to know her grandparents. Our Malaysian culture. Our Chinese heritage. If we move back, there will be none of these available.

Woe is me. I don’t know what to make of this situation. Perhaps, I complain too much about life.


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