My Little daughter

It’s a story about our little daughter named Ifa. She is 8 years old and attends Elementary School. Ifa is our second daughter, she has one older sister and one younger brother. He grew up as an independent little girl. In fact, I think tend to be stubborn. Barely able to be friendly to anyone. If you say always with a tone and a cold face. The point is, in my opinion, she is not a nice kid. At least until that day. Because I work outside the home, the intensity of my meetings with children is also limited. Usually, I will start the day in a hurry and more screaming to ask the children also get ready. Going home, in the afternoon I found the children are already tired of playing all day. In addition to my already tired body, I barely have time to relax with the kids. Fortunately for me, children grow up with an independent attitude. All they do without relying on the help of his mother. Especially for my daughter ifa, she is somewhat different from other kids.
If another child is so spoiled with his parents, my daughter rarely shows me a spoiled attitude either to me or to her father. I also noticed her relationship with her brother and sister. I often screamed angrily when she deliberately made her sister cry. I also scolded her when she dared to hit her sister.
Essentially I rate my daughter has a problem with her social attitude. I was a bit worried about her association at school. Does she have friends or friends? Is she liked her friend? Or is she giving much trouble to her teacher? Those questions often haunt me.
Until one day I was startled by a phone call from someone who claimed to be the mother of my daughter ifa schoolmate. The woman cried begging me to allow Ifa to meet her daughter at the hospital. She did not tell me much just said was her daughter seriously ill and kept calling my daughter’s name. I allow it and are willing to drop the ifa to the hospital to see a friend.
At the hospital, I saw a very moving sight. A child my child’s age lies with his head in a bandage. Her eyes were teary with tears. She kept crying while she called my daughter’s name. Her mother said she did not recognize anyone by the impact on her head when she fell off the bike. But to my amazement, why is that kid calling my child’s name? Slowly ifa holds her friend’s hand. And miraculous thing happened. The little girl smiled into the face of ifa. They both laughed together. I can not see it all. I cried with the woman beside me. Her mother thanked me for bringing her ifa to the hospital. At least it can cheer up his son before undergoing surgery.
On the way home, I asked my daughter. He told me about Zica, his ailing friend. Apparently, according to my daughter, Zica is not her best friend. He shunned his classmates for being famous for doing mischief. One day, Zica took my daughter to play during the break time. Because seeing the other friends no one wants to accompany her, my daughter finally wants to play with her because of pity. While playing, Zica accidentally wet his pants. Her dirty clothes were exposed to her urine. Without my guess, my daughter is capable of being mature. She helped Zica to clean her urine traces. Ifa also took the initiative to ask teachers to call Zica’s parents. Unwittingly, her helpfulness had saved Zica from embarrassment to her classmates.
The next day, while playing in her house, Zica fell off the bike and hit her head with a sharp rock. She suffered from severe bleeding and several nerves in her brain were affected. Zica does not recognize anyone even her mother. He just kept crying in pain. And unexpectedly, it may be stored in her brain memory of events that impress her when helped by Ifa.
Hearing my daughter’s story, there is regret in my heart. I am sorry to have given my daughter a ‘label’ as an unpleasant person. I’ve been wrong all along. She is my little daughter who has a softer heart than all her friends. She has his own way to love others without being nice. I am very proud of her.
From then on, after work, I would give more time to listen to the sweet stories of my children. No matter how tired I am, I will make them a great source. And to this day I am very happy to have the full confidence of my children as their place of telling.

My Superwoman

Our family has a housekeeper. She lives not far from our house. In addition to the task of cleaning the house, washing clothes, and ironing, She was also in charge of raising our youngest child. In essence, she was paid to alleviate my duties as a working mother. With her daily presence at our house, my job is greatly helped. I have so little time to rest without thinking about the messy house conditions. Going home to work, the house must be in a very tidy state. Children are in full condition and have bathed. So one day, the disaster arises.

That morning I was ready to go to the office. While holding my baby breakfast in a hurry. Usually, our housekeeper comes at 6.30 am. But this time it was 7:15 and there was no sign of it coming. I was getting restless, the baby in my sling had not been bathed and his face was dirty with food. The shirts I wore began to get stained. Finally, uncomfortable, the baby in my arms was crying loudly. Slowly I put him in his chair. Instead of silence, she cries even harder. I am very panic and hard to think because obviously, I will be very late to arrive at the office. By eight o’clock, she still had not arrived. I finally decided not to go to the office that day. I immediately changed my work clothes and immediately called my boss at the office. My employer graciously gave me permission.

After confident that I had to clean up the house without the maids that day, I started by bathing my baby. While singing, I started to gently rub his body. He loves to take a bath with his mother. After that, I tried to make him sleep by taking him to the front garden house using a stroller. Not long afterward, my wish came true. He fell asleep sweetly. Slowly I take him to his room and start the struggle. The whole house is in a mess. In my heart, I scolded myself why to let the kids play without clearing up last night. After cleaning up the children’s toys, I turned to my husband’s desk. Oh, God…. The table was a mess. The rest of the coffee last night was still on his desk. The papers of his work were scattered. I cuss in my heart. Why my husband does not want to tidy up his desk. While mopping the living room floor, my baby sounds crying. Ah seems to want to cry too. While carrying it I continued to clean the floor. I feel the pain in my back because of the heavy load I carry. Okay … I stop doing housework and decide to play with my baby.

He laughed happily playing with me. Until I did not realize, the time was showing at 11:00 noon. My other kids will be home from school at 12.30. oh my god … I have not cooked for lunch yet. I see the baby was already nervous because hungry. But how do I cook while carrying it? If I put it on his chair, he will scream. I started preparing the ingredients I would cook while carrying them. And that’s not an easy job. Ah, how my maid can do it all by herself?

The baby in my arms began to rebel while weeping. And finally, I decided to order food at a nearby restaurant. Yaahhh I give up. Children come home from school to eat. Ah, the relief…
Late in the afternoon, I had to struggle to bathe my baby as well as send my older son to take a bath. I think I’ve been yelling hundreds of times but he’s still in front of the television. While slightly angry, I turned off the television. My son was angry but eventually obeyed to bathe. I remember when I came home in the afternoon, the house was in a neat, clean and fragrant. The children are clean and full. I finally realized that there were many things I had to do.

As a working mother, I must be able to keep my work balance at home and at work. This is not a trivial matter. I need the help and support of the whole family. Children should start getting used to picking up their toys after playing. They should also have a schedule to observe for study, play and rest time. My husband must also begin to get used to being more presentable in all his work. One more thing, I decided to have time to cook before leaving for office. With all the events of the day, I wondered how noble my housekeeper was. She is a real superwoman. Without her, as good as me in my career, being nobody. Without her too, I am just a tired mother. hopefully, he will come back tomorrow because I want to thank the infinite.

Baby Nay

This story is about baby Nay. A little baby with a big story accompanying her. December 8, 2005, was the beginning I felt there was something wrong with my pregnancy. I was 7 months pregnant. My body had a very high fever that had to be rushed to the hospital. The doctor who examined me gave no sign whatsoever about my blood. I was just sentenced to sick typhus and had to be hospitalized. When I can not think anything. All I know is my whole body hurts. Intravenous fluid was put through my hands. It feels very uncomfortable.
In the morning at 6 o’clock, a lot of fluid came out through my vagina. Ah … this is what is called amniotic water. I can not stop it. The liquid came out swiftly. Not long after, I felt a tremendous heartburn on my stomach. The nurse took me straight to the delivery room. All my energy is consumed by the pain that is felt. Running time is very slow. But the pain was even more pronounced to make my lips tremble great. The world feels like a somersault. Everything feels wrong. Irresistible irritability plus my higher body fever. Occasionally doctors check me and just smile while saying, “be patient … survive”. And at that moment I wanted to scream as hard as I could. It felt like there were dozens of razors that slashed my body.
Until 12 noon, I’m not strong anymore. I finally gave up. I decided for a C-section. My husband agreed because he felt very worry to see my condition. When the entire medical team set up an operation for me, that’s when I felt a very strong impulse from inside my stomach. Unconsciously I was straining with all my might. There is something slippery sliding through my vagina. The nurse next to me was surprised to see my baby get out quickly. She immediately took hold of my baby (I guess something was indeed my baby). Then after cutting the placenta strap, he showed me a glimpse of the tiny baby who was not crying in front of my face. Yes, my baby did not make a crying sound and it was very worrying. Before I could see it clearly, my baby was immediately put into a sterile room and put in an incubator. There is something that makes me sad and feels very anxious. Why were the nurses tense but did not say anything to me.
After being transferred to the treatment room, I kept crying. I do not care about the wound ripping on my vagina. All I think about is my baby. During the night I cried because I was not allowed to see it. Until the very next morning, my husband took me in a wheelchair to the nursery. I did not enter the room. But when I was shown my baby through a large glass window, I burst into tears. I watched myself a very small baby weighing just 1.6 kg in front of me with lots of hoses on his body even in his nostrils. My baby is surviving. He is struggling. The beautiful baby born prematurely we named Nay. Mom loves you wholeheartedly. Strive to say, mother’s prayer is with you.
And today exactly Nay baby turned into a beautiful girl with a beautiful heart too. 12 years old is now, and the mother remains and will always say to you, Nay.

about my mom

This story is about a woman. A great woman who keeps love all her life. He was born into a simple family with 12 children. With the number of children that much, he who is the third child certainly does not get adequate facilities. The days he spent with lots of sharing. Sharing food, bedding, and of course very little pocket money. All he went through with great joy.

Until then he married, he has 3 daughters. His life is better than the past. The husband is willing to work hard to support his family and his daughters who are always devoted to him. Even so, he still lost far in his association. When his friends can change branded bags up to 5 times a year, he was quite satisfied just wearing a cheap bag without a change for a year. When his friends raced to buy shoes with famous brands and exorbitant prices, he was quite heartened simple shoes that he would not replace if not hollow or torn.

All he lived with love. Love to husband, and love to his daughter. In order to meet the needs of families, this mighty woman willing to live a simple life even able to live. She saved her little income money for her daughter’s school to a high level. He was willing to withstand the pain without adequate medical attention, to see his daughter wearing new clothes. He is also willing to withstand hunger for no lunch to raise money to buy new shoes for his three daughters.

Her smile broke beautifully when she saw her three daughters finish school to a high level she’d been wanting to. His happiness abounded at his daughter’s smile. Until one day the happiness is complete already when his last daughter married. One by one his daughter married had children and left home. Now in his old age, he no longer saw his daughter whining for money. He no longer had to endure hunger for his children. He no longer wraps a snack with a tissue for his daughter. All had left her and her husband. They follow their new family. Only the empty rooms he often stares at every night. Hoping there were his daughters shouting for attention. Wish there was a cry when they quarreled. However, only the empty room he found.