Routine

My mum has blogged earlier about my life routine here, Do you think it's easy?. Well somehow my life routine changes a bit now as I grow up. But still, I live in a routine. Routine comforts me. I like routine. I hate surprises. I don't want to be surprised with Ibu going out for outstation for days. No! Please don't surprise me like that. I get confused and confusion upsets me.

My schedule is somewhat predictable, I nearly, always know what to expect next. And this bring great assurance of security to me. .Do you know that babies feel secure and confident within the loving framework of caregiving rituals. The world is a responsive, predictable place, and life is good!. Read it if you don't believe my word.

Ibu usually comes home at 6 plus nearly everyday. And she would find me waiting at the door grill. My heart shrunk when I see her red car stopped in front of the gate, and Ibu open the gate and slowly park the car.

The moment she stepped out of the car, I would shake the grill. "Ibu!" I shouted..at least that's what I said..I hope they understand me though.

Ibu would smile...ahhh those comforting smile. Open the door grill, kiss me or ruffle my hair. "Pick me! Pick me" I would shout again and raise both my hands up to her. But usually she doesn't pick me straight away. She has many things in her hand. Handbag, camera, sometimes books, papers.

Then I would toddle and follow her around. If I can grab her skirt or pants, even better...she would have a hard time to leave me alone. And eventually she will pick me up.

I would then play clingy and refuse anyone else. She would put on my shoes and we, together with Ayah, will go for a short walk. It works all the time.

Later, I try as I might not to let her off my sight..but my brother and sister are always up to something. They always manage to distract me from Ibu. Ibu always manage to get away. And when I finally notice she is gone, I know she must be off for shower.

Hah! Now I must climb up the stairs. Ibu! Ibu! Ayah always get the signal and will always escort me up the stairs. As I am nearing the room, I can hear it. The comforting sound of the shower. I am rest assured that Ibu is in there doing her thing.

So I waited with Ayah on the bed. I pretend that I am interested with whatever silly game Ayah plays with me. I laugh when the situation needs for me to do so.

But the real fact is..I am listening. Listening.

Shhhh listen to it. Can you hear it?

Ahah the shower has stopped roaring! Ibu is done.

I would then scramble, scramble from the bed. I must get down quick! Throw everything from my hands. Leave Ayah's game. Quick! Quick! There is no time left!

Toddle, toddle, toddle.

Check myself out..no dribble.

My hair is good.

Stand infront of the bathroom's door.

Deep breath.

Creakkkkk Door open.

IBU!!!! Raise both hands up! Pick me! Pick me!

Then I'll tug her towel. That will never fail me. She would always pick me up! Almost instantly.

Ahhhh...you see I love routine. I know the exact timing. I have rehearsed this almost everyday. I am always there for her. Dry or wet, Ibu.