Thinking out loud..

Sometimes I come back to my blog after a break, a couple of weeks or a month, and I feel like, “Hey, do I know you?” It’s the exact same feeling when you are fighting with your husband who you have known for a decade now. True, right? πŸ™‚

These days, I often go back and read my old posts and think about the time when I was active and wrote often and had an opinion abut everything, including parenting. Now, with my 4-year old who is oh-so-headstrong and opinionated and questions with a “why” on almost everything she is told to do, I am at a loss. I am no longer sure of anything. I am always second guessing my decisions. I try to be patient and answer all her questions so as not to just make her obey orders, and yet sometimes, the questions are never ending and I am forced to shout “Do it because I told you so”. And thereafter the guilt trip starts…

Some days, she would be my little girl, sweet, and obedient. And just when I have let my guard down thinking, I finally have a grip on this thing called “parenting”, she brings out all her secret moves. Crying, moping, giving me a silent treatment (yes, at 4!) and being a total nuisance about EVERYTHING. And what do I do? Move away from her even though what I really want is to give in and see her smile. And thereafter the guilt trip starts…

I am all about balance. My priorities lie half way between “being at the top of your class” to “not knowing a thing” and “Never hit the child” to “Spare the rod, spoil the child”. So I just nag her enough to do a little bit of reading and writing everyday and letting her play the rest of the time. And sometimes, when the whining and crying while lying on the floor of the grocery store go out of hand, she does get a nice whack from me. And then she says, “you don’t love me”. Thereafter, the guilt trip starts…


And then, at the library, a lady asked me if I was planning to have a second because “she is so cute, and obviously wants a sibling”. I have learnt to deal with this incessant question. I say a firm NO because “she is more than two handfuls”. But what I really want to say is, “Hey you! Do you know I had a 16hour+ labor to bring her into this world? And without an epidural, mind you. And then she just wouldn’t sleep the whole night for the next 1.5 years. And then we had to potty train her, get her off her pacifiers and feeding bottles. And then by that time, she was cool enough to ask endless questions. And sometimes, I have to shout at her and whack her because she needs to become a good person. I am already on a never ending guilt trip. You think I want to add to that??!!”

But, of course, I don’t say this because people would think I am crazy. More importantly, a crazy mother.
On that note, Happy Mothers’ Day! Or may be, “Happy Guilty Person’s Day” πŸ˜‰

Picture courtesy: Google

Memories Of Motherhood!

Motherhood is something that defines your entire life after you become one. It is one of those journeys where there’s no turning back. Once a mother, always a mother! There are happy times, there are hard times and sometimes, really trying times. I think at some point, every mother has wished to leave behind the entire world for the child, and sometimes vice versa πŸ˜€ It often reminds me of Enrique Iglesias’ song “You can run, you can hide, but you can’t escape my love”. This love which is illogical,  heart wrenching and totally unparalleled.

I am a quite a “new” mother as my darling daughter is only 17 months old yet. And so, almost all of her memories of her first year are still fresh in my mind. So when I read about the #MemoriesOfMotherhood activity, I knew I wanted to write about it. May be I’ll forget small little things which I do remember now.
Like how during my pregnancy, we kept speculating about the sex of the baby the entire time. And then, the day she was finally born after a grueling 16 hour labor, I just couldn’t wait to see her. I asked the doctor so many times about the baby and when would I be able to see him/her. She got really upset as she was busy stitching me up and the nurse was busy sponging the baby. But my perseverance won. She asked the nurse to show me the baby to shut me up. I don’t think I have ever before been so carefree (read shameless) about my conduct or manners. But that day was just something else. I can somehow still imagine myself in that tiny labor room, stretched out on the cold delivery table. 
And then, there was this time when she would give me a real tough time while nursing her. One day I looked at her, squarely in the eye and just held contact. I still remember her puny little face with round big eyes. May be she was startled. Or amused, I don’t know. But the trick worked. We would both stare at each other and nursing became a breeze on such days. I can never forget that face. I could never it click too, though!
Also, I think she can be awarded the title of “The coolest baby ever”, if ever there was one. We went on a Euro trip when she was 9 months old. And this smart little baby had so much fun. There was not a day when she cried or behaved cranky. She was ever jovial, always smiling and always saying Hi and Bye to people in the metro. We received so many compliments on having such a happy go lucky and beautiful daughter. I still feel so proud about those compliments. Feels childish, right? But that’s what children make you do – childish things πŸ™‚
Thank you BioOil and BlogAdda for making me write this. One day when I would have forgotten, it would be such a treat to come back to this haven πŸ™‚
I am sharing my #MemoriesOfMotherhood with Bio Oil and 

BlogAdda

. This Mother’s Day check out the 

Yummy Mummy calendar

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.

Dream Diary (continued)

I don’t know if it’s the heat that made me dream like that. Or the fact that now that I have a child, I have a soft corner for every mother-child duo that I encounter on the road. I watch them intently and try to fathom the kind of relationship they have. After all, living in the kind of dearth that they do, a frustrated mother with scanty means, and a child cranky of hunger, would not really make the lovey dovey relationship that we perceive every mother child relationship to be.

So I am walking down the road with a friend. I am talking to her while pushing the pram little S is in. We near a bend and I see two other people coming from the other side. Since the bend is quite narrow, I try to steer little S’s pram into a corner so the people coming in from the opposite direction can pass. I am quite engrossed in talking and haven’t even noticed these people. Suddenly I see that I cannot move the pram. So I try to maneuver it to move it along a different direction. Again, I am unable to do so. It is then that I stop blabbering whatever it is that I am trying to tell my friend and actually notice these people. There is a lady who is carrying a very young baby in her arms. Holding her hand is a little boy, aged not more than 5 years. They look haggard and very poor and probably they haven’t eaten in many days. Suddenly the boy collapses on the road. I see his legs have turned blue up to his knees. In my mind (in the dream), it is due to dehydration (not sure if it’s true). I throw a panicked look at his mother’s face. She is about to cry. Before she can do that, she collapses too. Her sari is hitched up to the knees and her legs have the same bluish hue, like the boy. There is a rickshaw puller coming from behind them. I holler to him to come and help us take these people to a nearby hospital. But the rickshaw puller, without saying a word, turns the rickshaw around and moves away. I ask other people passing by, but they pass by as if they haven’t heard my cries for help! I decide to take matters in my own hands. I try to push little S’s pram forward so that I can run and call someone from my neighborhood for help. Again, the pram refuses to budge. It is then that I notice the little baby from the lady’s hand lying on the road. (S)he is not moving nor crying. I freeze. My heart breaks into a million pieces.  I am still wondering what to do when…..

When little S started crying and woke me up. I was quite distressed on waking up to such a dream. To having to start my day on that note. Even though my mind asked me to cheer up as it was “just a dream”, my heart told me it was someone’s reality.