I always react when somebody says I DON’T work.

I DO work!

I just don’t leave the house. I don’t do paperwork. I don’t teach a bunch of children but I do one-on-one teaching. And my baby is my student.

And my student is not just any ordinary student.

She is also my boss.

She’s not just any other boss.

She is my baby boss.

In fact , I am her slave.

She can’t speak but she dictates me what to do.

Just one smile and I smile more.

Just one giggle and my heart melts.

Just one cry and I bend to pick her up.

And because she can’t speak, it’s hard to figure out what she wants. She can only cry. I have to do many things before she calms down. I dance. I sing. I tell her stories. I massage her. I change her diaper.

She controls my time.

I can’t eat when she’s not in the mood. I have to tend to her.

I can’t use the toilet coz she sleeps on me. I’m her bed.

She needs me all the time.

ALL the time.

She needs me when she’s hungry. I’m her food. She gets hungry every now and then. Day and night. Dusk till dawn.

I clean her up when she pees or poos. Many times a day.

I give her bath and I have to be gentle and careful because she is very delicate.

She can’t sleep without me. I’m her swing. My arms are her best bed. It’s close to my heartbeat – her favorite music.

More than that, she needs the booby in her mouth to sleep – for comfort. If not, she just want to feel it on her cheek and on her palm.

I am her everything.

And she is my everything.

I don’t care if I have dishes waiting to be washed.

It can wait.

She comes first.

I don’t sleep straight because I need to take care of her.

I stay by her side when she sleeps. I watch her. I feel her chest moving up and down. I make sure she’s okay and breathing.

Although, sometimes, when she’s in a good mood and busy playing, I admit I sneak.

When I sneak, I don’t play. Nor rest.

I wash dishes and vacuum the floor. I run the washing machine and hang clothes. I prepare meal. I fold the clothes. Doing these things while checking her at the same time – if she’s fine.

But only one cry and I come to serve her – my baby boss.

Sometimes, I feel punished for no reason. Don’t get me wrong. She doesn’t punish me intentionally. But her bites to my nipple really hurt I cry. It’s not all the time though. Just sometimes.

But, there’s one thing I can do that she doesn’t and can’t complain. – I get to decide what she wears. I dress her up. I put on her head colorful ribbons.

I take pictures and videos of her – a lot – everyday. It’s my pastime.

There’s also one thing I do that even myself don’t understand why I’m doing it. The baby language I do, that even I, don’t understand. My voice is high-pitched and I babble. I call her ping-gi-ding-king, ping-king-king, pa-lang-dang-dang, kidik-ding-ding. I don’t even know what these means.

It’s like an automatic response when I see her cute face.

I don’t have a holiday but everyday is a special day.

I have no break time and even though I get tired, being with her and serving my boss is still the the best time I could ever spend.

And oh! I don’t get paid. There is no monetary compensation. I get more than that. It’s the compensation that money can’t buy. It’s the precious memories and amazement of seeing my baby boss growing everyday, gaining muscle control, developing her senses, acquiring language skills.

In the near future, she’ll be needing me less and will be the boss of her own.

And when that time comes, I will surely miss these times when she’s little and boss me around unknowingly – my ever dearest baby boss.