Little Stories 322: Chicken Pop

2 weeks after Sofi caught scarlet fever, she was sick again, now with chicken pox, or how Sofi calls it 'chicken pop'. Another week at home, quarantining. She was feverish for the first four days, with itchy, blistery spots all over her body, painful ulcers in her mouth, and nonstop burps (I guess her digestion’s a mess). I told her she had to go through this one way or another.

I set up my laptop in the living room, told my team about the situation and how it might affect my focus, then just rode the wave as best and as flexibly as I could. When things pile up like this, I can’t really aim for balance. So I go into what I call priority triage. I pick what matters most and let the rest fall where it may.

It’s not quite fight-or-flight. It’s more like serious mental compartmentalization, like packing each chaos into its own box so I can breathe. I cancelled meetings, pushed calls, worked at odd hours whenever I could focus. I got help from Af when he could, cycled when I had the time, and completely bowed out of the family social planning. I let go of what I needed to let go of.

And yeah, I’m probably stressed out. My period’s a week late. That tracks.

But here’s the thing: I think I’m getting better at managing things alone. I can sense when I’m about to spiral, and I know what to do. I recognize when I’m overwhelmed, and I know what helps. Crises have become strange little practice runs, latih tubi for the mind and heart. Like running a marathon. My life has always felt like a marathon, tak pernahnya nak santai.

I have a list now, because not only do I have mommy brain, where I forget the hundred little things on my mental checklist, I’m also trying my best to stay on top of work. So a physical list helps. Using my calendar app and the Teams calendar helps. Knowing what’s next, when to push things to “next time,” when to say no, and when to drop things entirely, all of that helps.

Sometimes I cry at night, then I let go, and I fall asleep. That sigh, you know, that heavy sigh telling yourself you did well that day and it is still ok. I still want to play the next day, and I'm not done yet. 

 

Maybe this is just how it is; parenting, working, surviving, repeating. I’ll just keep triaging and cycling through it. At least Sofi calls it “chicken pop.” Somehow that makes it all sound lighter than it feels. She said, "I missed my skin, mami. Do you miss my skin too?". 

Note: I wrote this on day 5, halfway through, I hope things will get brighter on today onwards.