Can we try again?

Fifty-One

The next couple of weeks for me wasn't easy. It was taking a toll on my body which was still trying to readjust to the change; the early rising in the mornings and late arrival home. I found it exhausting but in a pleasing way. I mean, I shouldn't be complaining after everything, should I?

At least, I wasn't lazying around anymore in the house. I too was out there doing something productive with my life, being busy. That's what I'd always wanted and it was worth every ounce of the tiredness.

The only slight issue I had now was that I didn't have as much time with Jameel as I used to. Apart from the weekends, we didn't have our 'mother and son' time as often as we used to, where I listen to him yap about the day he's had at school and help him with his homework if he had any. Most times I get back home from school, he's already asleep.

You cannot have everything, I would constantly remind myself whenever the feeling of guilt starts to creep up on me.

I can't expect to be at work and still be able to have my full time with Jameel. It's was impossible.  

And it wasn't all that bad, I would tell myself again.

It wasn't as if he had no one else looking after him. It wasn't as if he was totally being neglected because I now had a job. My mum was around, and she's been great helping me out with the school runs; taking him to school and bringing him back home on her way from her shop. Some days, she'd send one of her employees to pick him up and take him back to her store until she'd finished for the day and then they'll come home together.

To be honest, I wasn't particularly fond of the idea of strangers picking him up from school -they were strangers to me, but not to my mum and if she could trust them with her grandson, then I need not worry that much.
And I had no choice too.

A beggar has no choice.

There was nothing I could do about it anyway. I couldn't leave my job just to get him from school. I couldn't tell my mum to stop sending those people to pick my son up. I knew that if she could spare twenty minutes of her time to pick him up, she would. But she couldn't. She couldn't leave her store just because of Jameel, just as I couldn't leave the office too. I understood that. I'm trying to understand.

In as much as it was a big change for me, I still made the effort to be there for Jameel. On the weekends, I try to spend as much time as I could with him to make up for the weekdays when I'm not around.

On this particular Saturday afternoon, Jameel and I were alone at home. I'd just helped him with his homework - although, he didn't really need my help for most of it anyway - Mr I know everything.

We were sprawled across on the couch, chilling and watching SpongeBob Square Pants - Thankfully, he had grown out of his Mickey Mouse phase, because I don't think I would have been able to handle any more of that hot diggity dog song.

I was startled by Jameel's loud groan and when I opened my eyes, I noticed the stillness and dimness in the room. I joined him in groaning too.

"Nooooo! NEPA has taken the light again!" He whined. "Mummy, put on the gen? I want to watch pongebob."

I sat up and yawned loudly. I glanced at the wall clock. It was only past two. I was already dozing off. "No, Jameel, We'll put in on later in the evening, when grandpa and grandma are home."

He whined some more. "But I want to watch TV."

"Well, you'll have to watch TV later or wait for NEPA Jameel."

He didn't respond but just sat there frowning. "Oya go and get your toys and we can sit outside to play."

And just like that, his frown was turned upside down. He dashed straight to the room and brought a hand full of some of his toy cars, and building blocks and his favourite figurines and headed straight for the door. "Let's go mummy!"