MOVE over, Britney Spears. The latest wild-child celebrity to go under the unfit-parent microscope is none other than Courtney Love, widow of grunge legend Kurt Cobain and former frontwoman of rock band Hole.

It’s no surprise, really, given that Love has been making the headlines for years with her inappropriate, exhibitionist and generally flaky behaviour.

But what got to me as I read the gossip columns was a quote from Cobain’s uncle, Charles Fradenburg.

“Courtney wasn’t doing any parenting at all, she was hiring nannies to do all of the work,” he said last week, after guardianship of Cobain and Love’s 17-year-old daughter Frances Bean was abruptly taken away from Love and given to Cobain’s mother.

Having recently employed a Filipino domestic helper to lend me a hand in taking care of my two kids – aged 31/2 years and two months respectively – I suddenly wondered if farming out one’s maternal duties like changing diapers and bathing the baby means one scores a big fat Love in the motherhood match.

Question: Does having a maid now mean that I’ve copped out as a stay-at-home mum (SAHM)?

For the longest time, the Supportive Spouse and I had resisted getting a live-in helper.

Think about the loss of privacy, we reasoned between ourselves; the extra mouth to feed; the increase in living expenses!

To be honest, I was also afraid that my kids would end up becoming that Singaporean cliche: More familiar with the maids who raised them, than with their own parents.

Hey, if Hollywood actress Angelina Jolie was so hands-on that she could only take a shower with her eldest son Maddox in a bouncy seat in the bathroom, surely I could go it alone gloriously, too?

But with the birth of my younger son, Lucien, I finally had to admit that I needed an extra pair of hands around the house.

For two weeks after my confinement nanny left, and before the arrival of my new helper, my default mode involved pacing the house with the baby in my arms as I either ignored or yelled instructions irritably at my boy Julian. I had become No-Fun Mummy and I hated it.

These days, my helper Gina handles Lucien while I get some rest.

And Julian likes hanging out with and talking to her, too.

However, with a helper, a whole new set of neuroses has kicked in, and it’s not just about being mindful of my employee’s welfare – both physical and emotional – as she is far from her home.

I started wondering about my own role at home: Am I neglecting my younger son because I no longer did the practical things one associated with a mother, like feeding, burping and changing?

Are my children going to prefer their new “auntie” to me?

How does one draw the line between “delegating” and flat-out partying ala Courtney Love?

I’ve since decided that it’s pointless to over-analyse these things.

Better to just get on with the business of taking care of my family, even if it means acquiring and deploying more human resources to do so.

When we first became parents, the Supportive Spouse and I had joked that we were running an NPO (non-profit organisation).

These days, it seems, we are on our way to becoming an MNC.

When I remarked that I have a trio of dependants whom I drag along with me wherever I go, my single gal pal said: “Think of it as though you are an emperor, with a retinue that sways whenever you move.”

I retorted, only half in jest: “I’m more like an event-organising slave.”

I’m looking on the bright side, of course. My family will now have two new people to celebrate Christmas with.

And I can ask for no better gift than that of being able to relax regularly – so that I appear more like Santarina, and less like Satan, to my kids.

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