STI: When I've to play Mum too

Mar 10, 2004

When I've to play Mum too
by Loh Keng Fatt

I AM sometimes a single father.

No, the wife hasn't run away from home. She is just absent occasionally because of work or training commitments in Britain, the United States or China.

This happens at least once a year, and dates back to at least a dozen years now.

The trips used to be as often as three times a year before cost-cutting made all companies count their pennies.

Each trip lasts from a few days to two weeks, so I know of the problems that bedevil families when one or even both spouses are despatched abroad, sometimes at very short notice.

In my case, the wife's absence has not led to messy upheavals in the family routine.

But just like in a football game when someone gets the red card and has to leave the field, the team is just not the most efficient after that.

All parents, for instance, plan and calculate everything down to the last second in the morning, in a rush to get everyone off to school and work in time.

Invariably, you can bet that someone will not play ball.

One kid may take two minutes too long in the bathroom to gel his hair up to defy gravity.

If both parents are around, one can spot the problem early and issue a warning to the offender to hurry up.

But when Mum or Dad is missing, the foundations begin to shake.

Take the simple matter of breakfast, which I had to take care of when the wife was away in Vietnam in mid-January.

Making Milo for my two sons seemed a breeze, I thought at first.

'Too hot,' the elder son said, after taking a sip.

'Make it cooler, can?' the younger son chipped in.

By the time the drinks were made cooler - by adding ice cubes - two precious minutes had elapsed.

Meanwhile, there was no one else to do the other chores like making sure all the lights, aircon and taps were turned off before we left the house.

As I said, every second counts in the morning, especially as I have to drive to two secondary schools, one in Bishan and the other in Bukit Timah.

We must hit the road by 6.30am in order to get to the second school, in Bukit Timah, in time.

That day, we missed the target by five minutes, which meant the younger son barely made it to morning assembly, and with heavy school bag in tow.

Apparently, the 'cool' thing to do is to arrive early enough so you can deposit your bag in class before sauntering out to assembly.

Luckily, the rest of the day was manageable for the boys. They took a leisurely bus or train ride to my sister-in-law's place for meals after school. I picked them up later.

When they were much younger, we slept over at her flat for the added assurance of having more adults around to handle any emergency.

We are lucky. I know of other couples who have to draft in their in-laws from Kuala Lumpur to help Dad hold the fort.

Even when families have maids, suddenly single parents feel 'naked' without having family or relatives around.

But while you can get help for chores like washing the dishes, there is no substitute for a parent's physical and emotional presence.

So it was, when my two sons were younger, it took a long time for them to sleep because they missed having Mummy around to hug them and read a story or two.

They still miss her, even though they are now 15 and 13.

Each child reacts differently to a parent's absence, and I have had to learn to read the cues, both visual and spoken, about their state of mind.

If they were less boisterous than usual, I tried to create scenarios where we could still include their mother in our activities.

We would play a game, asking what Mum would be doing at this particular time abroad (after we had worked out the time difference, which was useful maths practice).

We would speculate, for example, what she would be eating for breakfast, lunch or dinner - another fun way for me to clue them in on other people's lifestyles.

She also had a wonderful way of keeping in touch with us daily. This was before handphones came into vogue and when hefty IDD charges and inconvenient time differences meant we limited fixed-line calls to the barest minimum.

She would leave messages on scraps of paper lying around the house, one for each day she was away.

Each would start off saying, 'you three are the most important men in my life' before she surrendered to what all Mums love best - worrying and telling us what to do.

So there were pleas to 'drink your water', 'don't sleep too late' and 'don't forget to do your homework'.

But these meant a world of familiarity, and comfort, to us.

I suggest that if you are a parent who is constantly travelling, do the same to remind the ones at home of your continued care and love.

Absences are also a good way to let the children take charge and become heroes.

'I am sure you want to tell Mum that you could keep your room tidy when she comes back, right?' I would often tell them.

That usually worked because, naturally, they did not want to let down the most important woman in their lives.

And she did not fail us either.

At the airport where we competed to see who could pick her out first in the arrival hall, she was always spotted struggling with extra baggage - filled with presents for us.