Satisfaction: When three or four wash loads of clothes are washed, dried, folded, kept neatly in their places, and the laundry basket is finally empty.
Relief: When an excruciating headache begins to recede.
Discomfort: When, after a sumptuous meal, you realise you need to urgently visit the loo.
Pleasure: When you spend a whole day scrubbing and cleaning, unknown to everyone, till the five-year-old comes in, looks around surprised and says, “Did you change the bulb? Why is this place gleaming?”
Peace: When the child falls asleep after an exhausting, energetic, lively, talking-nineteen-to-the-dozen day.
Pride: When someone you admire appreciates your work.
Pain: When you say ‘I don’t give a damn’, and don’t mean it.
Suffocation: When you want to complain, swear out loud or scream at someone but can’t, because you know there is no point in grumbling and no one can fix or change anything and whatever you shout aloud the child will repeat.
Confusion: When you think you are a victim to society’s cruelty and act like a martyr (aka hero) of the movies you watch over and over again, even borrowing dialogs from them.
Love: When you gaze at your sleeping child. When you miss your parents. When you think of people who make your life slices of rainbow.
Amazement: When the child secretly finishes his writing work when you are not looking and proudly shows it to you.
Determination: To know what you’re doing is going to hurt a lot of people, cause many of them to turn against you, nevertheless go forward because you alone feel it is the right thing to do.