Counting My Blessings

Ironically enough, two days before Atch was to take over caring for the boys so I could return to work, Yaya Rose texted me to ask if she could come back. I was puzzled about this new turn of events, but never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I texted back in the affirmative.

With mixed feelings, I contemplated this new twist in the saga of my life as Yaya Mom. I was itching to get free of the household fetters, true, but there was always Woog and Eli think of. Everything came back to them. They were the be-all and end-all of my having taken this extended vacation leave, and because of them, I was actually reluctant to return to work. When one is totally depended upon and practically worshiped by one's nearest and dearest, the sensation is close enough to send one to one's knees. (goddess syndrome, anyone?) In the two weeks I was mom-of-the-house, they practically bloomed before my eyes, something I never saw when they were in the charge of a caregiver. Would I have the heart to leave them back in the care of a nanny now I had discovered the exhilaration of exclusively raising them?


Directly the next day while I was scrubbing the kitchen sink, Yaya Rose arrived: thin, dark and out-of-breath. Apparently, with the enrollment period at the her local district high-school still weeks away, her father had required her to labor in the sugarcane fields under the scorching summer sun to help augment the family income. She earned over 50% more as the boys' nanny, so she argued her way back. Poor Rose. I urged her to have lunch and she ate like it was going out of fashion. Hunger can be a very potent argument too.

Which brought to mind the bitching I succumbed to in my previous post. While I was needlessly complaining about being torn between work and family, hundreds (nay, thousands) of women were scrounging for measly opportunities to make more than than the $1 a day that their families lived on. I am blessed to have been born to this privileged life: a college education, steady employment, more than three meals a day, internet access yet! And in this poor unfortunate benighted land, I am living what is considered the good life.

My husband would have called me the shallowest person alive. And he would be right.

In the midst of my musings, Yaya, between mouthfuls of sotanghon , rice and fried chicken gizzard, informed me that she would stay until her matriculation period, and would willingly train her replacement, should I find one. Her father was allowing her until then. I wondered what kind of a father would be small-minded enough to subject his only daughter to the harsh life of the boondocks, when she could have a better future (not to mention, a bigger income) were she to stay in the city. I voiced my concerns, but Yaya only smiled and shrugged. So much for that.

Woog was matter-of-fact about Yaya's reappearance (how grown-up my baby has become!), while Eli couldn't take his eyes (or arms) away from Yaya Rose. It brought a jealous lump to my throat, and an urge to actually shoo Yaya away. These are my children, mine!

With a sobering thought, I realized that these were indeed MY children, and I would have to double (triple!) my efforts at spending quantity quality time with them. No more complacency about having to leave them completely at the mercy of a nanny.

So it was back to work for me. We did have to keep our kids in the good life after all.

Yaya's Leaving

When Yaya approached us two weeks ago to tell us she was leaving, we felt our little world tilt lopsidedly off-kilter. Her father had called her cellphone, instructing her to give notice up to April 22nd. It appears he had returned to work as a sacada in one of the sugarcane plantations to the north, and he would be able to send her back to school.

Yaya Rose has been the kids' caregiver, it seems, like forever. She came to us when Woog had started his first year of school, a sturdy and feisty laughing girl of sixteen, always with a quick-witted retort for every situation. It was her her first time in the big city and on her initial solo flight to pick Woog up from class, she took the wrong jeepney home and ended up miles from her destination.

How we panicked. Atch left work, ready to comb the streets for Yaya and Woog. Sam drove to the school and interviewed everyone he could get a hold of. And my father-in-law jumped into his pick-up and drove aimlessly around the district, looking for them.

Two hours after they were due home, Yaya and Woog returned. It seems Yaya had pleaded with the jeepney driver to bring them to the right street, and bless his heart, despite it being way out of his route, he did. Yaya, sobbing with fright, phoned me immediately. After reassuring her that all was well, I had a word with my son, who it turns out, had the adventure of his life. Such fun he had on the long drive, he reported.

That misadventure aside, Yaya Rose quickly grew into the family. She may have been young, but she exhibited such initiative, responsibility and resourcefulness that we left Woog in her care without turning up a sweat. Woog loves her like a second mother.

Yaya & Woog at Pa-on Beach

Yaya's duties multiplied when I had Eli but she took all this in stride, even if I knew she was tired in the evenings when we came home from work. Poor Yaya. Despite this, she stayed in on most of her days-off, opting to save rather than have fun. Occasionally her mother dropped by to borrow money off her salary.

Yaya with four-month-old Eli

When she told us she was leaving, Atch and I offered to send her to school if she would stay with us. What a life we would have without Yaya Rose! The kids would miss her terribly, and we would have to begin another exhaustive quest to find a trustworthy nanny, someone we would have to trust with our sons' very lives. Out of the blue, I had nightmares of a new nanny dropping Eli on his head and not telling us. Or mistreating our mischievous little Woog.

Yaya consulted her father about our offer, but he was adamant about her returning home. She had to bring her little brother to the local Daycare center each day ("Nanny without salary," Yaya smirked), and to herd the family's carabao home from grazing after class, he said. Yaya being the dutiful daughter she is (a huge chunk of her salary goes to home to her family), acquiesed to all of this.

So she's really leaving us. Yaya has become so much a part of our family, it'll be like cutting off an arm when she goes. And if someone were to ask if I ever felt depressed, now would be the time for me to say "yes".

Already time is growing short. Atch and I are scouting for a replacement, and yes, good help is so hard to find. The last person we hired a month ago to assist Yaya skipped out after less than a week. How does one find a person one can trust?

Atch and I are praying really hard that we find such a person. We've told the boys and Woog still doesn't believe it. He thinks it's all a great big joke. I cringe at the tantrum he is likely to throw on D-Day.

Still, the world continues to turn and I am hoping for a light at the end of our tunnel. Even if we have to lose someone for which we hold great trust and affection.

I wish Yaya Rose all the best. When she leaves, I pray she remains safe, finishes school and has a wonderfully blessed life. She deserves it.