Learning to Be a Mother

11. Ordinary Man.

Cutter, the first sharp object I found at the closest distance with my son in his room. The end is still in a taper condition, can still cut any object when the shaft is swiped intentionally or not.

As I thought back then, I don't remember ever buying this cutting tool. If yes, I can be sure this thing will be rarely used. Although it is small and easy to carry around, I don't cut anything much at all times.

This thing I'm holding, I'm secretly imagining how my son did it. Does he really want to do this? Why would she do it when I could make her feel safe? I can hear the story anytime.

This Thursday I was with my son at the dinner table, he was enjoying a plate of rice sitting that I always bought every morning for breakfast. Sometimes I think my son is tired of eating it, but the rice sitting is the right choice, I do not want complicated cooking early in the morning.

"Where is Kalista?" I asked when the work was almost done. "Don't let him go but don't have breakfast."

"Fathan already prepared to eat Kalista, Kalista also wants to eat in class today. Afraid of being late so this is leaving."

I'm not bad luck, Fathan and Kalista also wake up on time, they won't be late to school. After all, I had already bought this sitting rice while they were bathing, so both of them could eat right away without waiting any more.

Looking at the hurried Fathan, I got up from the chair while glancing at my son's room. Kalista was there, she hugged herself with her head bowed. Judging from here, my daughter is ready with her attributes as if the time of departure they are the most anticipated thing.

It's not like the one before. Usually Kalista would complain about how lazy it was to go to that place, usually she also argued with me or Fathan before leaving for school. But the boy was there, he locked himself in a room with his favorite blue sweater.

"Calista, let's go!"

Hearing her brother calling, Kalista left her room. But seeing me at the door, he was no longer in a hurry, did not look willing to face me as well as seem resigned to what was hindering him now.

"His hand still hurts?"

"No, no" he answered briefly.

"Why not have breakfast at home? The clock's still a long time from there to part."

"Mending parts of diocehin continues."

"So Mama keeps saying that you keep?"

"Mama won't understand."

Then my son dared to go through the door, he was free from a room that was considered like a prison cell. At first I was about to chase, but Fathan preceded me by sending his brother out of the house.

"Calistas!"

"Mama, Kalista still needs time."

"Mama wants to hear the explanation he did me like that, Mama also wants to understand him now."

However, my movements were stopped by him. The man prevented me from leaving, his head shaking as a hint for me to let my daughter go with her anxiety. I don't understand, I'm trying to understand the situation.

"Ma, yesterday Mama was rough with Kalista. He is stubborn, not much. But if the child is getting dibesin or restrained, he can do more than yesterday!" Fathan looked at me annoyed. "Mommy realized that yesterday's mama was wrong, right?"

"It's rude of you to say so to the parents," said someone accompanying the conversation, he filled in an empty conversation-cutter slot between me and my son. "Who taught you that? I never taught."

"Why not?" Cahyo then exchanged her attention with me. "Well, what's the matter from yesterday? Why not a story?"

"Well, let me tell you a story later in the room, yeah."

"No, it has to be now!"

"That's the kids going to school, we're talking about it, huh?"

"CAN'T! Can't say why don't you understand if you say it?"

"Dad, noisy. Shame on the neighbor!" Kalista also spoke. "I'll go first."

"Calistas!"

"Lo owes me the same explanation, yeah."

Again we were in the worst situation, when each family member started going in a different direction. We parted irregularly, ending up with a feeling that was equally raging with the various causes of the feud.

After Kalista's departure, his brother followed by advancing his motorbike as quickly as possible. After his back was out of sight, my husband clucked and immediately slammed his body on the long sofa. He's still waiting for my explanation.

I'm afraid, afraid of being blamed again. Fear is considered a failed mother, as a mother who is not wise to care for two children only. My husband's eyebrows were found, occasionally his lips sipped a cup of tea while satirizing my condition and my children.

It took ten minutes for me to feel at ease to tell him what happened yesterday, making sure my feelings and ego were able to gulp down every sentence and negative comment from what my husband would say later.

I did not know the response that came from Cahyo was a form of affection that could not be shown in accordance with the expectations of the child or even the wrath of emotions that could not go down with many complaints. But at least, I did not cover anything from my husband.

"You're in that house, why the hell, Laras?"

I sighed, I heard the question a thousand times that seemed to demean my role in this house. Had Cahyo understood the moment she left me at the hospital, had she understood my feelings when Kalista insinuated with the departure of a large family full of disappointed faces.

I'm still trying, too.

"You let your own child do such a thing," he added with a heavily discarded breath. "That's all until it happens, you're her mother."

"Don't throw all the responsibility onto me."

"What did you say? Throw all the responsibilities of a working kayak, usually only ask for money, money, money. As long as I taro money where I suddenly disappear, now ngurus aja child just can not."

"Cock you like this, anyway?" I got carried away. "You're like my humble, we're originally talking about Kalista who hugs himself, you know."

My husband chuckled, "I don't understand that I'm the same as you." Then he broke off the conversation by leaving the place, he left without any advice or encouragement I should have heard.

I was left, again, with the same emotions. I can admit it was my fault too, I was too rude to my children. But I also want to be understood, even if only heard.

I'm a mother and I'm a human being, not a hero or superhero worthy of admiration and not worthy of pity. I want to be strong like my own mother. I'm just sad to remember all this time still trying to be what people around me expect as a mother who deserves appreciation.