In the Attic

Blowing off the dust, putting a broom to the cobwebs and discovering the occasional snakeskin (can’t begin to describe the reaction that brought!) I was clearing out our stuff that had been stored for over 10 years. It wasn’t an attic upstairs, or a cupboard under the stairwell, for me it was a corner of space, a pile of stuff against a wall in a back room. Since moving back to Thailand, I had a lot of catching up to do, putting the ‘woman’s touch’ to things again.

Memories. The cot (crib) in which each of our children, as babies, had taken their turn in sleeping, now full of boxes upon boxes of photos and videos. My husband being a keen photographer always had the camera ready. Ironically, I, myself, am very camera-shy, camera, videos, you name it. I hate having my photo taken. But I do love looking at photos. How I love looking at photos, photos of the kids, photos of family, photos of friends, and not just my own either, other people's photos too. I find them so intriguing, some mysterious, some often telling a whole story; the faces - some happy, some sad; the smiles - some genuine and others just a façade. A photo can say a lot about people.

I pick one up out of the box on my lap….for a minute I am transported back in time. A photo catches a moment in your life that you can never get back again, your thoughts, your feelings. Pictures speak a thousand words, they say. “When I find a spare moment, I should put them all in albums; scrapbooks made with tender care” I mutter to myself. ("How they are kept says a lot about a person too, I chided.")

My bubble pops…the kids had filtered in one by one and had gathered around, peering over my shoulders and discovering their various baby and toddler photos, the noise of teasing and sniggering rising to a crescendo.

“Look at you! As a baby! Awww”. Someone grabs their baby photo and makes a run for it, threatening to ‘tear it up’ for sheer embarrassment. “Oh no you don’t!”, I ordered, rescuing it from its doom. They’re mine to keep.

Another photo….“Hey, Mum, you were so skinny back then, with goggle-eyed glasses too!” “Was that what you and Dad used to wear??” Now it was my turn to turn red.

This started a wave of questions of what it was like in my day. The kids were kind of a century or two out with their estimates. "Yes, I was a teenager once. No, not in the 50’s, or the 60’s either; it was the 70’s. No, I didn’t have an afro that was a foot high and two feet wide! "

After what seemed like a million questions later, the novelty wore off and I found myself alone once more. I straightened up the loose photos, placing them carefully in the box and closing the lid, I put it back in its place in storage, safe and sound, perhaps to gather dust just a little while longer…that is until I find the time to make those scrapbooks…whenever that would be...hopefully not another 10 years from now.

With my 2 year old, now out of nappies/diapers, suddenly becoming fiercely independent and wanting to do things ‘not your help, Mummy’ - time is flying by all too quickly. I let out a little sigh.

Grand-children, you say? I’m not ready for that just yet! :-)


Copyright 2006. Rebecca Laklem.

The 'Out of the Box' Mum

It is in the polls whether or not working mothers should get priority in the day-care centres. As a work-at-home-mum or now commonly known as WAHM, I can sympathize with all mums.

The stereotypes of Mums (presented mostly by television) are often misconstrued. Take the SAHM (Stay-At-Home-Mum), it is often pictured – a mum in curlers and dressing gown, vacuuming and cleaning and ironing in whirlwind time then spending the majority of her time, lazing about watching soap-operas and gossiping over a cup of tea and cakes.

Then the WAHM (Work-at-Home-Mum), we visualize – a mum constantly on the phone, and at her computer with her desk stacked with papers, trying to find a space that does not have peanut butter smears or chocolate milk spills, in-between yells of ‘Johnny, don’t touch that! Or she is chasing the kid around the dining room table to wrestle the precious office document out of his hands.

Next is the WAOM (Work-at-Office-Mum), on canvas we see – a mum rushing out the door for work, leaving notes of instructions on the fridge for the husband and kids, on the phone making arrangements for who is going to pick the kids up from school or daycare and coming home to a house already in order and the kids neatly tucked into bed fast asleep.

The fact of the matter is, there are no stereotypes, in this day and age, the gift Mums have of multi-tasking is stretched to the limit. Imagine how many costumes us ‘Super Mums’ have to change into:

Live in house-keeper. No matter how hard Mums work in the ‘real’ workforce, they still carry the main load of keeping home too.

Group organizer. Arranging and rearranging the whole family’s appointments and extra-curricular/ or after-hours activities into some form of workable order.

Nutritionist. Planning the meals and balancing the daily diet into a healthy eating plan for several often finicky eaters.

Errand runner. Shuffles to pay the household bills while out doing the grocery shopping or going to that PTA meeting.

Negotiator. A major role with ‘how much allowance’ and ‘exceptions to the rule’.

Cheer-leader. Come wind, sun, rain or shine; Mum is always in the cheer line.

The list goes on and on…..Supervisor, Life-guard, Bodyguard, Referee, Teacher, Peacemaker, Entertainer, Chef, Party-planner, School Project Manager, Fund-raiser, Secretary, Phone-Operator, Counsellor, Sports and Exercise coach, Laundry lady, Personal Development Motivator, Nurse, Finance Manager, Court Judge, and Mentor….just to name a few.

So, if Mums are Super-Heroes then who are our Side-Kicks? Our ‘support-system’ of course - whether it be the hubby and kids all doing their ‘two-bits’ or extended family lending a hand; or for some it is the day-care centres and after-hours school care.

So the question remains you say, who should take priority in the day-care centres? – The mums who have no other ‘side-kick’ to turn to – of course. No more, no less.

I know some of you Dads maybe be protesting here. Whether it be Mums or Dads, whose role is it anyway? It’s a crazy mixed up world we live in.

For me, why not turn back the clocks to the ‘Golden Days’; the ‘Pleasantville’ society where roles were clearly divided. Just being pancake making, apple-pie baking, roast dinner cooking Mum with Dad, after working hard at the office, walking in with a ‘Honey, I’m home’. That ‘box’ would suit me just fine. In plain old black and white. :-)

Copyright 2006. Rebecca Laklem.