Balancing Act

Mesmerized by the turtle at the aquarium

How magical it seems, the way last two and a half years have flown by, how quickly Vrinda is growing up, from a three months milestone, to six months, reaching her first birthday, to her second, and now in the midst of her most extreme toddler times. These last two and a half years have been limitless in all forms - sweet, sour, at times bitter  when the screams took over, and savory in all ways possible. We are going to be three in a few months, and I am only hoping that this little bundle of joy only gets sweeter and sweeter.

Time has fluttered past us, beaten forward by the wings of birds we cannot touch. I see her every day of my life, waking up to sleeping with her. Taking note of the incremental changes in her features, only slips by. When people see her after long gaps of time and tells me “oh she is all grown up!”, I invariably reply “oh really? I don’t notice the change.” It is only when I look through the photographs of days gone, milestones reached, unimaginable activities done, that I can fully grasp just how much Vrinda has transformed.

Many times throughout the course of a day, she would reach for me or mostly shout on top of her voice so that I run to her as if she eeds to be rescued from some dangerous thing. Then with her head tipped back she would plead, "godi godi." This happens all of a sudden - in the middle of meal times, or play time, or coloring sessions or Tv time. I recently read a poem, the one about how 'babies don't keep', and the housework can wait until the next day, and so on and so forth. But does that actually work in real life? This is easier said than done. Yes I am supposed to be picking her up each time she asks me to. Yes I am supposed to be dropping all my work and go running to her at the moment she calls out for me. Yes I am supposed to be giving up all things, no matter how important they may be, when I hear her say “mummaaaaaaa”. But I am sorry that does not happen. I miss catching on those precious moments, innumerable times, but to be honest that is too perfectly scripted. That can be done for a few moments in the day, but not on a daily basis and definitely not all the time.

 

My version of reality with Vrinda involves waking up in the morning and taking my own walk, making breakfast for us, lunch for Anuj and then preparing her milk and breakfast. It’s a marathon run. Once she is up I can practically do nothing, no matter how much I try. She wants me all for herself. And if that doesn’t work and she cries and cries. I struggle to feed her that one glass of milk and keep getting tensed up for all the meals post that. I am always struggling to keep her occupied, as she doesn’t melt down when I say no for picking her up or just sitting with her while doing nothing. None of her toys ever suffice. They don't last for more than 3 minutes at any point of time. Sure the cooking and house organizing could sit, and I could oblige my daughter's appeals to just be with her and play play play, but as certain as Murphy's Law, we'd tumble through the door at the next meal time, as between requests for chips or crackers or bubbles or Tv, I'd need to make lunch and dinner, and inevitably, the only tool that I need to work is ‘my time’, which she is always tying to imprison.

I'm not interested in wishing away her childhood. There is no way. Of course I look forward to her independence, but I'm also painfully aware that one day she won't grab my hand. She'll no longer reach up and ask to be lifted into my arms. It's the ceaseless contradiction of Motherhood. You are constantly at odds with a desire to fast-forward time, and yet desperate to stop it altogether for fear of missing something and never getting that moment back again. While at her playground she walks a low level wall everyday; but so do I - mine is the big girl version, the proverbial plank of wood I'm nearly falling off with every step forward. So I compromise. I give her attention, then I get back to my work. Most of the times I try to explain that mumma has to work, otherwise who will cook lunch? Or mumma has to make the bed, or how will she sleep?  She asks for me, for my presence, requests things of me, demands too and I attempt to explain that I'm busy. Sometimes she whines, sometimes she finds something else to do. At times I yell too. I am not denying that. When there is too much to do and too little time coupled with too much screaming from her, then I also add in a bit of yelling. That sounds insane and cruel but then I apologize to her, hug her and try to make more time for her.
 
There are times when there’s too less to do, but at times there's just too much, too much that stretches her nearly complete inability to be patient, so I take breaks to chase her around, snatching her up, blowing bubbles while she catches them, and reveling in the marvelous music of her laughter. Momentarily, I beg the birds to stop flying. And then I get back to my work.

For those who have not read this beauty…

"Babies Don’t Keep" 

Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo

The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Aren’t his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

Author: Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

Who is In Charge?

Mother's Day 2014

I miss being a kid. My only responsibilities were running around, create a mess, and playing. And someone else was IN CHARGE. As a mother of a toddler, and that too quite an energetic one, the charges are spilling out of my plate. Today as I find myself in charge of  everything for my adorable-cute-little-mostly-angelic-but-at-times-devilish-toddler, the hate for being in charge is bound to set in.

There was a great period, the period of my golden college years, when I was in charge of my own hair, my well being, my food and most importantly my own freedom. There was an even better time of my childhood when my mother or sisters were in charge of all the above activities. Additionally, they entertained me too. And last two and a half years have made up for all that luxury. Today I realize it is a very easy talk to become a parent, but equally difficult to take charge for the same. Being in charge is how a mother shows her love and sacrifice for the child. You sacrifice your sleep so you can be in charge of your child's studies. You sacrifice your entertainment, so you can take charge of the fun for them. You sacrifice reading your own stuff, so you can read them bedtime tales. The list is never ending. Because the love is never-ending. My mother did this, so I could become a better person. I am doing this, so Vrinda can have a better life.

Today she is carefree. There are no worries. Life is great. All is easy. There's everything on her plate that she can ask for. Mumma is responsible when she needs to have a bath - have a bath or not. Mumma will take care of her hair. Mumma will decide on her clothes and shoes. Mumma is the food incarge. Has she eaten her eggs? Her fruits? Her vegetables? Her milk? Her protiens? Mumma is in charge of her sleep - has she had a 12 hour sleep or not? so on and so forth. She demands, I submit. She needs, I give it. There is a sense of pride in this dependence that your child shows towards you. As much as you are tired, you tend to be equally happy. That you child is with you, for you. That she needs you so much. Such moments are truly conflicting, giving you highs and lows at the same time.

What I am truly dreading is the time when she will start being in charge herself. As a boss I always knew where does my work end and where starts that of my subordinates'. But as a mother I fail to understand, where do you draw the line? How does this all work? When do I stop being in charge and she becomes her own boss. The time when she will start saying "mumma I will do my own hair!" How will I feel? The day when she starts sleeping on her own and would not need me to sing to her, when she would want just her books and not me around. Will I crash down with that sudden detachment from my responsibilities which she had bestowed on me so far? Will I hate to be told "Mumma I can do it by myself!" Will I cry quietly for letting go of my charges? Or will I be happy about the "not-being-in-charge" phase, as I am today, just thinking about it?

Very messy and tricky indeed. My heart melts as such thoughts cross my mind every now and then. As she grows and becomes more socially active, her independence will gradually take over my responsibilities. I guess only time will tell. For now I AM IN CHARGE !! Its milk time ! :-)

NOT Enough or GOOD Enough.

I had always thought being a mom won’t be so difficult. Maybe the first few years might be worth it. Even if I wasn’t so sure of being a great mom as my mom, I thought maybe I could be GOOD ENOUGH. Good enough to be able to take care of Vrinda for atleast five years. Good enough till the time she understood the meaning of ‘YES’ and ‘NO’ or ‘GOOD’ and ‘BAD’. Good enough to make instant ‘right’ decisions for her. Good enough to play with her infinitely, to entertain her all the time. Good enough to ‘GET HER’, to understand her, to let her be. 

I was wrong. And now I have discovered I can’t match up to my mom or the good moms of the world. Good, how subjective it might be, definitely seems unachievable right now. I feel all my efforts are not good enough. I see fellow mothers doing it all so well. Doing it on time, doing it perfectly right(or so it seems. For me the silver lining is that perfection is an illusion). They seem to be going through the same path so smoothly, that I find awfully patchy and painfully rocky. It’s a merry go round. I see them going up-up-up into the world of happy-mother-child-ride and find myself going down-down-down into the world of irritated-disillusioned-angry-mom-and-cranky-angery-toddler space. She is angry b’coz I am not giving in to her demands. I am angry b’coz I am not able to find better ways to get her off her demands. I am angry b’coz I am giving up instantly, b’coz I ‘ve been loosing my patience every second minute. 

Most importantly I am angry for ‘NOT BEING ENOUGH’. For not being able to be a mom I dreamt to be. For not being able to handle the messy spill of ‘toddlerism’ from my plate. Its over cooked, its overflowing, its irritating me and driving me mad at times(lately most of the time). Its anything but good enough.

All through the first year of babyhood, I was one with her - she was me and I was her. I gave in all I could. Transition from a baby to a toddler has changed it all. FREEDOM HAS REPLACED TOGETHERNESS. Today she has her own world to discover, to explore. She is growing up socially. She is meeting more people, at school, at play groups. And I am feeling ‘NOT ENOUGH’. Last few months have been hurtful. It’s been painful to let go. To let her go into the world and discover new horizons has been difficult. I have always been very possessive of those I love. With Vrinda coming along, that possessiveness became madness. I left my sleep, left my food, left my friends, and all that I love to do, only to be able to provide best for her. But as she traverses into new directions, I have come to a standstill. A huge transition for me, as for her. And the hollowness of ‘NOT ENOUGH’ haunts me all the time.

The feeling of being a good mother and being able to make a child happy is a big booster in a mother’s life. But what is good or bad is all a matter of time and perspective. Every minute feels like forever when your two and a half year old wants to wear her own socks, or eat her own soup or comb her own hair. The clock stops ticking a million times during the day. I try to keep calm and explain the right from wrong to her again and again, as much as the good from bad a zillion times, but when the patience drains out, and I see myself wearing the anger coat, I feel ‘that’s not enough’. 

Then moments later we are both laughing and playing, making it all worthwhile. The coin keeps flipping from ENOUGH to NOT ENOUGH to GOOD ENOUGH all day long. My moods have become lightening like. There comes the happy satisfied mom, and there goes the sad cranky mother. Its been a mad ride. I had never imagined how terrible these TWOs can be, and how madly mad they will drive me. As she sleeps beside me, peacefully dreaming about her evening play time, I sit here writing, completely confused about my current status..Am I GOOD ENOUGH OR NOT?

'Thoughts for Vrinda' - 'From my Memoir'

 

Image Courtesy Y.P. Arora

I have been writing since a long time. I don't even remember since how long. I still have a few memories of me sitting in the balcony of our Indore residence and penning down a few lines, trying to construct my first few poems.That was somewhere in the early 90's. I must be 10 or 12 then. Yes, I was that small.The love for writing has only increased since then. 

From nascent to matured - my  writing has seen highs and lows over last two decades. It has been through rough and happy times, from exciting to dull times, from positive to negative phases, from patient to angry moments. I have always liked to express and taken the help of words to document my feelings- good or bad. And if there is one thing I so badly want Vrinda to inherit from her mother's genes, it is my love for writing. I want to see her writing. Good or bad, that's not what matters. What matters is that she writes, that she thinks, that she weaves, that she constructs, that she molds, that she let go of all her inhibitions about writing and let the words flow...

My parents are around, and my father got me my old diaries, journals and notes from my school and college days. It was so nostalgic and amazing to turn those pages once again. As I read my entries, I thought of documenting them for my little girl. She might understand them a little later in her life, but they will definitely teach her a thing or two.

1. FOOD FOR THOUGHT (23.01.2001)

"What are you thinking right now? If your thoughts shape your life, would you want what you were just thinking to become true for you? If its a thought of worry or anger or hurt or revenge or fear, how do you think this thought will come back to you...?

Imagine yourself in line at a buffet in a luxurious hotel, where instead of dishes of food, there are dishes of thoughts. You get to choose any and all the thoughts you wish. These thoughts will create your future experiences.

Now, if you choose thoughts that will create problems and pains, that's rather foolish. It's like choosing the food that always makes you ill. We may do this once or twice, but as soon as we learn which food upsets our bodies, we stay away from them. It's the same with thoughts. Let us stay away from thoughts that create anxiety and pains and upset our minds.

My logical mind does not understand the importance of having those thoughts in my mind which always result in hurt, misery and sadness. But still at times I find myself ( and a few people that I know) opt for the same path. Why do we choose to forget that there is another path that takes us to happiness - the path of happy and positive thinking ."

2. MOODS & MISERY

Image Courtesy Joginder Sharma

 Nobody likes misery. Why not analyze yourself next time you are in a mood? You will see how you are willingly, willfully making yourself miserable. And while you are doing so, others around you feel the unpleasantness of your state of mind...You must remove moods from your mental mirror.

One should introspect each day in order to understand the nature of her mood, how to create it and correct it, if it is a harmful one. Perhaps you find yourself in an indifferent state of mind. No matter what is suggested, you are not interested. It is necessary then to make a conscious effort to create some positive interest. Beware of indifference, which ossifies your progress in life by paralyzing your will power. 

Suppose your mood is a conviction that you have failed at all levels, and can never succeed at achieving your goal. Analyze the problem and see if you have really made all the efforts you could have.

Or perhaps your mood is discouragement over a loss of goal. You must try to apply the laws of faith and keep trying again in order to re-reach your goal.

There would be times when your mood will come in the form of a mountain of denial. Denial that no one loves you. Denial that you are no understood and is all alone. Calm down. Talk to those who you trust. Ask them about the things those have done for you, whose love you doubt at that moment.You will definitely gain ground. Love remains in the heart always, it might take a backseat at times and choose to hide away. But believe, it is always there.

You can conquer your moods, no matter how terrible they seem. Make up your mind that you are not going to be moody anymore;and if a mood comes in spite of your resolve, analyze the course that brought it on, and do something constructive about it!

Polish Abolish!

Yes Ladies and my fellow mommies, it has been abolished. My nails have been done for. They have lost their love, their charm, their color, their polish. A time comes in all our lives when we have to do away with something we so love doing, something that makes us happy, that cheers us up during the most difficult and gloomy times. That one thing is polishing my nails, pink and red….and beige and peach. My make up consists of this one colorful thing that I can’t do without – my pretty pink nail polishes. 

But as my baby turned into a toddler, and that too quite a fashionable one (or so it seems), these have come of age. Their time on my nails is over. Their presence from my makeup box and my life is fast diminishing. It’s a fascination for her, to get her nails painted pink and orange. I don’t even remember how and when it all started, but I sure know that the end is nowhere near.

The eyes open with a dire need for it and sleep drools over with beautifully painted mini nails tucked away in the blanket in mummy’s lap. No matter how much I try, the day ends with a session of polishing. On good days, we miss out on polish, only because we have a lipstick in our hand. OMG that is another devil in the deep sea of girl-toddler-fashion-parade!

We as children never had such likes, either because our moms were not into such indulgence or we were obedient and listened to our parents when they said “No”. The later is much more believable and real. This seems farfetched in our times, when new age mommies have preferences and likes for such things fashionable and trendy. And why not? But then children happen! And the “end-it phases” come around, very often.

The other day we were dining with a group of friends, and as all mothers would do, I started discussing the “tiresome-times-of-nail-painting”, the “never-ending-polish-tantrums”, the “life-with-a-toddler” and there it was, the moment of “mean happiness” for me. The fellow mommy explained how her five year old daughter would put on the polish each day after coming back from school (as this is not allowed at school) and remove each night before going to bed. The sheer comparison made me happy. Please don’t judge me. But something tini-mini was very happy inside me. That I didn’t have to deal with the “removing” part as yet. I was happy that till now she has not seen anyone removing it from their nails. I was happy that till now the polish remover is not in her life. 

Not that I am not foreseeing this becoming a part of our life too. I am very much, looking at my darling girl. I know what’s in store for me, more polishes, and lipsticks and more make up. Until then I have taken a call to abolish my dear polishes from my life! Keeping a picture of the last application on my hands and feet, to look at and be happy about.

ABCDs OF A MOTHER

Vrinda, unaware of her mother's high expectations

 

When I sit back to think about the expectations my parents had from me, I know they were pretty low. As in, they didn’t want me to become a scientist, or a researcher or a doctor even. They probably knew where I will land – in retail. And this surely is low as per expectations. I am not trying to lower grounds for those who work in retail; it surely is a great place to be in. But not the number one choice of our parents- for their children.

When I think of what I want Vrinda to be or become, I can think of N number of things – a NATGEO photographer, a journalist, a Chef, a Fashion stylist, all this being on the low side of my expectations. At the higher grounds, I wish her to be a doctor, or an architect. My list of expectations ends here. Anuj has not drafted any. For him there’s a lot of time to think about Vrinda’s career choices and the dimension where we wish her to be. I disagree. Anyways, to each his own. I am still determined to make her a doctor.

First few educational lessons that children get are the basic As, Bs and Cs of the world. In our times we just had the ABCD. Now children have ABCD with ‘phonics’. A a a for apple, b b b for ball, c c c for cat and d d d for dolI. Okay. I didn’t even know what this ‘phonics’ is until Vrinda was in my tummy. That’s when I started reading about what’s in store for me. What is going to be the first few lessons at school for her. That’s when I was introduced to ‘phonics’.  It is definitely a better way of teaching, I must say.

Lets keep aside the regular ABCD’s for some time. As a mother to be, I had many thoughts running me over. So, on a subtle winter evening in October 2012, a month before Vrinda was born, I sat down to write my own ABC’s. I sat down to sketch basic fundamentals for what and how I would want her to be. There it goes….

A - ASPIRATIONS (Aspire high)

B – BLESSINGS (Bless all and be blessed)

C – CARE (Care for the ones you love)

D – DILIGENCE (Be conscious about your work and responsibilities)

E – EXPERIENCE (Learn and then experience. Do not experience and then learn)

F – FREEDOM/FREE WILL (Use your freedom wisely. Respect the free-will given to you)

G – GIVING (Do not shy away from giving what’s yours or not yours. Give love unconditionally)

H – HELPFUL (Always lend a helping hand)

I – INSIGHTFUL (Be accurate, perceptive. Always understand and then act)

J – JOYOUS (Find happiness from small things in life. Be joyful)

K – KNOWLEDGEABLE (Acquire as much as you can. Read. Read. Read.)

L – LOVE (Give love and get love. Get love and give it in return.)

M – MOTHER (All she needs is your love and respect)

N – NAUGHTY (Be playful)

O – OUTSTANDING (Look at things with a sense of achievement. Give your best to get best in return)

P – PASSION (Give it all to what you love to do. Be passionate)

Q – QUEST (Search for answers. Do not stop till you get them)

R – RESPECT (Your elders, teachers, the feelings of your friends)

S – SELF-RELIANT (Be independent)

T – THINKER (Think hard to get your answers. Think before you speak.)

U – UNASSUMING (Be modest. Be unpretentious. Do not assume. Ask)

V – VIVACIOUS (Be my beautiful girl. Be charming. Be lively. Smile)

W – WISE (Be a good judge of right and wrong. Be discerning)

X – X-FACTOR (Be significantly different. Noteworthy. Stand out.)

Y – YOUTHFUL (Let your age not be a judge of your actions. Always be youthful.)

Z – ZEAL (Bring out that enthusiasm in your work. Dedicate all your energy. Keeps the fire burning. Keep your zeal.)

Yes,Yes I know. I had high expectations then too (one can easily make out from the choice of words I have used defining each alphabet).  And so are they right now. I know she is just two and a half and has just started her pre-school. I know there is a long way to go, a long way to walk, until she reaches all these words of wisdom. In the meaning time, as a mother I am just penning down my wishes for my child. And hoping she actually learns my ABCDs by the time she is 30. I would surely succeed as a mother that day.