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My baby daughter clings to my leg. Bored, she looks up to me, looking for my attention. I stared down, fingers still on the keyboard, and I lifted her up. She gave me a wry smile, seemingly satisfied that she got my attention. I held her with my right hand, while my left hand clumsily typed on the keyboard again. She then tries to grab the computer, while I fend off her attacks.

As I realised I was getting nowhere, I carried her away, bringing her around the house, trying to entertain her. After a while, she seems satisfied and gets distracted by a shuttlecock in the storeroom. I took one down for her, and she happily played with it. I got back to my work, trying to regain my writing thoughts. 10 minutes later, when I finally got back into it, my wife came in and said she needed help to collect her yarn from the post office.

We can’t leave without the baby. So, we dressed her up, put on her plastic diapers (we use cloth diapers to save money), packed all her essentials into the bag and went off. It was in town, so it took a good 20 minutes to get there. As she entered the customs office (yes, you have to pay tariffs and taxes for imported yarn), I took care of our daughter, who was running around.

My mind wanders again to that article that I was writing. It was only about 20% done, with many more things to research and read up about. And the deadline that I set for myself has been long passed. I can’t help but feel anxious about it as I watch my daughter laugh and smile at the myriad of people at the post office. 30 minutes later, my wife came out, distraught. She told me about the higher tax imposed now, and that the customs officer was suspicious that the value of the goods might have been under-declared (it was not).

I told her that it was fine and not to stress about it. She complained about how inefficient and inconsistent the customs office was. In my mind, for some reason, I get the feeling that she wanted me to solve her problems. But I know that’s not the case. Still, it does weigh on me that my wife gets upset about these things. I do want to solve her problems and ease her mind. For some reason, my mind tells me that I should be the husband that provides everything for her and my family.

And so, my mind spirals. From barely keeping up with my very energetic daughter, thinking of helping out my wife, and ruminating about that article I have been writing. It gets overwhelming. And it has been that way for at least two years now. There were many nights that I thought to myself, did I make the wrong decision leaving a stable job that provided stable income?

To do what? Pursue a remote freelance writer career that, so far, has made me work even more, with even less pay. I think about whether we have enough for next month. Would I make enough money to support my daughter (and future kids)? Maybe I should give up and pack everything and return to the big city. Go back to a stable corporate job without worries about money.

As I thought more about it, the more it didn’t make sense. And it was simple. I made the decision to leave the big city to build a better life for my family. Working remotely and for myself gave me the flexibility to stay at home and spend time with my daughter and wife. And I had most of my happiest times doing that while trying to eke out a living working as a freelance writer.

Throughout these two years, I was in despair many times. But I also, was happy many times. As I pondered these things, we returned home, and I went back to my computer, determined again to return to my thoughts. And just when I was about to type again, my wife told me that my mother in law needed help in the house for some cleaning work.

I closed my computer screen again, stared at the clock. It’s going to be a long day again.