I quit my job in June last year to become a stay-at-home-mum (SAHM) to my now two-year-old. I do freelance writing on an ad-hoc basis (or when I can find the time), and also get a small monthly allowance from my hubby for daily essentials.

After nearly half a year, here are the three main ways I think being a SAHM has changed me:

1. I’ve learnt the value of money

I will be the first to admit that I’m not the most financially prudent person. I am a real sucker for marketing and there is nothing I love more than some (okay okay, a lot of) retail therapy. Having worked for seven years, I could also more or less afford the little luxuries in life — Grab rides to cut travelling time, cafe hopping and the occasional meal-I-shouldn’t-be-able-to-afford, spoiling my little boy with (educational!) toys, wander lusting, and a wee bit of luxury shopping every now and then.

When I stopped working, my financial pipeline slowed to a trickle. I started to seriously count my pennies and relook my bills and receipts (holy..! that $200 New Yorker magazine subscription actually renews itself?!). The Grab rides came to screeching halt and I am now a shameless Eatigo devotee trawling the site for dining discounts. In my personal spending, I’ve began to focus more on quality; I research and mull over my purchases for at least two weeks to make sure they are “forever pieces” before deciding whether to pull the trigger.

Tightening my belt has taken some getting used to, but consuming less has made me appreciate the things I have more. It’s also revealed to me the emotional impulses that used to drive my spending habits — mostly stress from work and being a new mum.

2. My self-worth has taken a beating

It can feel demeaning at times, being the 24/7 indentured slave of a two-year-old bent on exploring the world on his terms.

I don’t think my university degree and years of corporate life prepared me to take on the most horrible boss I’ve ever encountered — my tyrannical tot. It’s mind numbing how much cajoling, pleading, hostage negotiating, plain ol’ trickery and anger management I have to do to ensure my son thrives and doesn’t run along into all sorts of trouble.

Hand to heart, there is no moment in the day I love my son more than when he is snoozing away peacefully on the bed, comfortably tucked in under his blanket looking like the little angel I know he is not.

It pains me to know that the work I do as a SAHM has no monetary value; is devalued even by some people who think we are lazy and can’t do better for ourselves. There are no performance appraisals or bonuses; some of my personal performance metrics include how much of his meal my son finishes without throwing his veggies on the floor, or whether I manage to time his bedtime routine right to avert a major meltdown.

So much for female emancipation huh?

Not earning a substantial income and contributing to the household living expenses also makes me feel like my decision-making power has diminished. Mindful that we are now a single-income family, I no longer suggest going for holidays or expensive meals or to get that new super cool Dyson fan. I don’t want to be a financial burden to my hubby.

Being so overwhelmed with Mum stuff also makes me feel slightly alienated from some of my friends who are still child-free. I find myself a tad green with envy as they share their latest travel stories and career progressions and highlights. I don’t want to bore them with the monotonous details of my #MumLife.

3. I feel more at peace with myself

As parents, we only have one shot to make it right. Our children are little sprites who grow up so incredibly fast that every moment we spend with them especially in their formative years is precious.

Being able to lunge onto the bed to give my sleepy little munchkin an extended morning cuddle is one of the priceless perks I get as a SAHM. That, and being there for him physically and emotionally every minute of every hour; feeling the grip of his tight fist as he drags me somewhere to show me something curious he’s discovered; tending to grazes and a hurt ego, teaching him discipline, manners and respect for others; cycling him all around our neighbourhood and beyond in search of new playgrounds and sights…

I never used to like children, but I thoroughly enjoy the company of my curious, determined and compassionate little boy. I understand nearly everything he babbles, unintelligible as the words may seem; and I know exactly what it takes to comfort him during a vociferous meltdown. Watching him grow day by day gladdens my heart, even as I struggle to keep my anger from bubbling over when he ignores my stern instruction not to climb on top of the dining table for the umpteenth time.

I both absolutely love and hate being a Mum. I don’t know if there is any other role in the world which elicits such polarising emotions. Putting my career and life on hold for my son may turn out to be a huge mistake, but I know I will regret it later if I don’t.

I want to seize every chance I can get to hug his warm little stocky body a little too tightly, and to shower him with kisses so effusive they tickle and he pushes me away, chortling heartily.