It’s been half a year since I’ve traded those beautifully tailored shift dresses (languishing now with dust in the walk-in) for t-shirts and shorts, and pretty heels (which must be growing mould right now in the shoe cabinet) for flip flops. I no longer get salary credited to my bank account the 12th of every month and am existing at a state of subsisting.

It has been helluva six exhausting months. I still have meltdowns once a month on the average. The learning curve’s been steep. I didn’t stay home with one kid, then went on to have my second and third. I stayed home with all three at their most whiny, sticky, wimpy and needy. I had to learn to be patient, do everything myself (with the helper), learn to teach each child, differentiate their learning and deal with those horrible feelings that come with lack. The lack that is of energy, time, money, space and sometimes, love – on my end.

I have to learn to bite the bullet. Every day.

Recently, a friend casually asked me if I’ve been doing well staying home and if I was ready to throw in the towel and return back to work. “So, is it rewarding?” my friend asked.

I’m not experiencing the rewarding feeling yet, and I don’t see any tangible rewards for now; all I can say is that it’s been very challenging.

As the kids grow and move from milestone to milestone, they change. They have different needs. Different emotional needs, social needs, physical needs and learning needs. At the beginning of the year, Becks was still in her Terrible Two stage, Ben was a boy with truckloads of unanswered questions in his head, and Nat was still very much a baby. Six months on, the little girl is throwing fewer tantrums and the eldest is asking more sensible and intelligent questions. But they are also now joining forces to fire questions at me and squabbling non-stop and quarrelling over the pettiest thing. They sing this stupid na-na-nee-boo-boo song and verbally fight over who’s first / taller / bigger / stronger / better / faster every single day. The littlest is also joining in when he can by screaming his head off at them. He’s now at the worst of his separation anxiety and is up to mischief I’ve never witnessed in Ben and Becks. He is everywhere and cheekily naughty every waking minute it takes at least two adults to keep him out of trouble. Think stealing food from bowls not his, throwing things out of the window, graffitising our walls and hiding Lego pieces in crevices and corners of the house.

Then there’s their learning that I find the most challenging. If I had one kid – oh gosh, easy peasy! There’s the world to explore with the child and I can do so many things with him – prep loads of activity sheets, tell endless stories, join in the play. C’mon bring it on! Now, even doing meaningful learning at home is getting tougher. Someone’s perpetually stuck to my left hip or needs to sit on my lap. Someone’s bored doing three-year-old things and someone’s feeling overwhelmed learning with a four-year-old. One-to-one time with me is always interrupted and disturbed. Sometimes I don’t even know if time spent learning with me is fruitful or not, with me feeling exasperated all the time. I join the dots with Ben to practise our counting and I find Becks and Nat tearing tissue paper in the room. I read to Nat and the kids are all around screaming the story in his ear and answering the questions I rhetorically ask to get him interested. I teach Becks the letters of the alphabet and Ben hovers around, with Nat monkeying in the background. I know I should have better crowd control and I don’t really know how to do it without hollering my lungs out. That, is the real challenge – to train them to be engaged, to help them learn when to be appropriate and to teach them to be focused.

It’s been half a year and I’m still finding my groove to this stay-home gig. I’m not about to put on a dusty dress and mouldy shoes for now and return to work yet. I’m hoping that staying home, with its unending challenges, can be more rewarding sooner.

Now, to continue biting the bullet.