All these days of everyone being out of the house and me getting to practice my single parenting skills has made me realise just how more relaxed I am when I’m alone. Having two kids under the age of 2, you would think that the more people there are around to help, the better. In fact I have found the opposite is true.

On the days when I’ve been left alone with Maya and Kiran we’ve had fun doing activities normally frowned upon when the inlaws are around (fingerpainting, playing with water). Maya’s been free to run around with no clothes on (also frowned upon). We’ve eaten lunch together at the table rather than Maya being chased around with handfuls of rice being forced into her mouth. After lunch I put Maya down for her nap while I walk around with Kiran outside and when I check on her after 5 minutes she’s already asleep. I have both the kids bathed, Maya fed and the house cleaned before everyone gets back. I feel peaceful and tired but relaxed.

When everyone is here Maya eats a loads of junk, won’t nap and I end up shouting at her most of the afternoon. I get stressed at the fact Kiran needs constant entertainment and don’t know what to do with him. Maya watches tv half the day. I have a constant headache and feel dizzy most of the day.

I’m not saying that I’m not grateful for the advantages of living with Made’s family because I am. There is obviously no way I’d be able to work without someone to watch the kids for me and it’s obviously useful to have an extra pair of hands or two when you have two small children. But it seems that extra help does not actually have a positive effect on my stress levels.

The Balinese are used to living in close quarters with lots of other people. Balinese families live together, several generations in one compound. It is common for a family of four or more to live in just one room. Made’s father is one of ten children and most of them still live at their family home with their families. Our little home is very small in Balinese terms.

Made like many Balinese people hates being on his own, hates quiet. He’s scared to stay in our rice field house at night and he was stressed by the quietness of England when we went back to visit. It’s true I never realised how quiet the UK is in comparison. Bali is never quiet – even in the most remote villa you have a constant soundtrack of chickens, frogs, dogs, gamelan and singing from the temple. Made frequently says “lonely” when he means “alone” – to him there is no difference.

I like being on my own. I loved living in the first flat I rented on my own – chilling out with relaxing music on weekends, cooking dinner for myself in the evening. Of course after you have children, time on your own is rare but that’s not really what I miss. Most people back home think I’m crazy to live with my inlaws and while I have lucked out in that they are lovely people, it’s never going to be the same as living in our own home. Who knows if one day we’ll ever move out and into our little wooden house sitting in the ricefields. Somehow I doubt it, or if we do we’ll always be back and forth.

In the meantime I think I just need to come up with some strategies to chill out and get some more time to myself or something silly like another unwashed teaspoon may just tip me over the edge.

Tonight is the eve of the cremation ceremony and everyone is at the cemetary . The bodies will be dug up in the middle of the night, accompanied by wailing women. Sounds like a delightful way to spend a Thursday evening doesn’t it? They will then clean the bones ready to be cremated tomorrow and everyone can get some sleep. Everyone in the village has been walking around heavy-lidded and half-dead for weeks. The other night when everyone got back at 8pm someone came over with about 10kg of rice and the instructions that it should all be cooked and brought to the bale banjar for 6am the next morning. I don’t know how these Balinese women do it, I would have cried.