STI: Nesting instinct homes in

March 15, 2003
Nesting instinct homes in
by Leong Ching

EACH morning, leave-taking becomes more difficult as my small toddler becomes more wily.

She sees me carrying my handbag, and immediately pays attention.

'Princess And The Pea?' she says, offering her story book.

'No, sorry, Mummy has to work,' I say, kissing her cheek.

'Spirals?' she says, offering her breakfast of cooked pasta and chicken soup, less calmly as she senses the battle being lost.

'Thank you, but Mummy has to go,' I reply.

'Mummy!' she says and runs to her bedroom.

This is her Ultimate Weapon. If this does not work, nothing will. She returns with the softest, most comfortable thing she knows - a blanket which she has slept with all her life, all 20 months of it.

'Busuk-busuk?' she offers, and smells it to show me how wonderfully fragrant it is.

I bury my nose in it too, and her soft hair touches my cheek as we both giggle. We whisper through the soft cloth for a while and so she does not cry as I wave goodbye.

Instead, she returns dolefully to her cold bowl of pasta. It will be another nine or 10 hours before I see her again, and two more weeks before she loses her place as the centre of the lives of her parents.

After that, there will be another pair of tiny feet in the house. This is why, I tell myself, these last few days are so precious, and leave-taking becomes more difficult each day.

Unlike the first baby, which was unalloyed joy, the second one brings with it some anxiety.

The books always warn you that there will be some jealousy on the part of the first baby, when No. 2 comes along.

You also have to watch out for 'regression', where No. 1 tries to regain lost attention by behaving like a baby again. Make sure that you pay equal attention to both.

'They are sure to fight,' said my mother, calmly regaling me with the sixth instalment of Children From Hell - nerve-racking tales of the bodily harm that my siblings and I used to inflict on one another.

There are two pairs of us, she said, so the elder pair (now 42, a father of two; and 39, a mother of two) would fight, along with the younger pair (now 33, a mother of one and a half; and 30, a single).

'I was the referee,' she said.

I am bracing myself for this - I am going to have a pair as well, as No. 2 is a boy. But the more immediate challenge for me is the strong 'nesting instinct' that I feel will surely descend on me within the next 24 hours.

This is the urge which overcomes some mothers to put things in order before the baby comes along.

'Why don't you just paint the walls or clear out the cupboards like normal people?' asked the Significant Other, as he waded through the pile of children's books.

This was before the first baby arrived. I was seized with the idea of being a children's writer, the Enid Blyton of Singapore.

The nursery remained a plain, white room, and the cupboards stayed unaired, as I bought and 'researched' tons of children's books, and tried to come up with something in the local context.

'Whoever heard of a mulberry bush?' I said crossly. 'We ought to have stories about angsana trees.'

I read and wrote. Deleted and wrote some more, until the contractions came along. Somewhere in my C drive, I still have these manuscripts of stories half-written, and ideas half-baked.

I had thought to finish them when No. 2 came along, with a fresh dose of inspiration. But No. 2 brought a different kind of instinct.

Now, I spend my time dreaming of the perfect childcare centre, and how I would go about setting one up.

I went for a briefing at the Ministry of Community Development and Sports, but slipped out because I had found out much of what was discussed from their website.

I also took the chance to size up the competition - some 40 people attended, a few middle-aged women and men, three young couples, and a group of teachers from a government-aided school.

I thought I could give them a run for their money.

Each day, I scour section 109 of The Straits Times Classified - Business Opportunities. Along with all the offers to become a housing agent or for multi-level marketing, there are a few offers each week to sell childcare centres.

'With all this government subsidy going to childcare, I am sure that we can make a good thing out of it,' I told my Significant Other.

'There are lots of people wanting to sell their centres. Perhaps we can find one that we like,' I added.

'Eh, Miss Start-up, people selling means they are not doing well. It is a red light, not green, okay?' he said.

'Look, we are going to be different, all right?' I insisted.

'We?' the Significant Other inquired. 'We don't have any experience in this area. And there are already lots of them around.'

Long pause. 'You know what I think is a good idea? Those books you were writing. I thought some of them were pretty good,' he added.

You would think that after two babies with this man, I would know better. But no - I fell for it.

It is back to the PC. And I do think some of those stories are shaping up pretty nicely.