Ibu Minah

This is in part a follow up to my last post. 

Because an excess of family time doesn't just happen. Not with nine hour school days, nightly homework, and consistent workouts.

It happens because of our live-in helper, Minah. 

She's amazing.

Backing up to the end of July, though, you'd find us wringing our hands at the prospect of having a live-in helper. We like our space. Brandon hates wearing clothes (just throwing it out there). I'm a little bit OCD and like to be in control of household things (to put it mildly).  Rumor has it I actually scolded my father in law for helping fold laundry because he wasn't doing it "right". No comment.

So the idea of having another adult in the house, lurking around all day, watching over our every move, judging our parenting and eating and . . . We just didn't know if we were ready for it.

But then reality hit.

School starts at 6:45 for Brandon, Bailey, and me. Boston needs someone at the house early to watch her until her class starts at 10. Minah lives over an hour away. On a good day. By bus. An unreliable bus.

If we needed her here early, we needed her to live here.

Okay. 

Let's try.

She won me over by the end of the week and hasn't ceased to impress me.

Granted, she folds our laundry differently, washes dishes differently, and cleans house differently. But she does it. Which means I don't.



I have only washed the girls sheets once. The day we got them. But they've been washed every Friday.

I haven't washed the girls' uniforms. Ever.

I don't press my uniform.

I don't order water or gas.

I've never scrubbed a toilet, wiped a bathroom counter, or washed a shower wall on this side of the world.

I only wash dishes on the weekend, and do a few loads of laundry on Sundays for the sole reason that I don't want to completely lose my "mom card."

Two weeks ago on a Friday, she refused to leave the apartment to go home for the weekend before she finished washing the dishes dirtied during dinner prep. And even then, it took a lot of convincing that we'd survive if she didn't mop the kitchen (again) after dinner.

Last night a friend of hers who works for another family in the building was celebrating her birthday.  Minah didn't leave until dishes were washed, lunches packed, dishes dried, table wiped, and floors swept and mopped. Even with all of her friends waiting and my insisting that I could take care of things.

"No, Miss, I finish work then go"

Thank you, Minah. Not just for all that you do for our family, but because of all that we can do as a family because of you.