Irony of a mom’s life

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I saw your eyes droop. You mumbled ‘Mama’ and slept.

I watched you sleep. I don’t know for how long.
The home is quiet. Absolutely quiet. Slowly, I disentangled my fingers from yours, careful not to wake you up.


You have already started sleeping in your room alone, and, to be honest, I don’t like it one bit.


Not one bit.

A lot of these nights, I just go and tuck myself in beside you. I love to hold your hands and sleep next to you. I pull your comforter on me and we sleep like the best buddies ever. I hold you, and you put your hand around my neck.


Let me tell you, as a parent, there is nothing more comforting than the hands of your sleeping little one around your neck. Nothing!

I love it when you hold me and sleep. I love it when you pat me in your sleep asking me to turn towards you.
I love it when we share the same blanket.
I love your smell.


I love it when, suddenly, some mornings, you come over and sleep on my bed curled under my quilt. When I sleepily ask you what happened, you say that you were cold. I hug you tight and we sleep facing each other, your little nostrils breathing warm air down and your tiny chin facing up. I want to hold those moments forever.
It is funny that if you are cold, you can just pull your comforter over yourself, but it is warming to know that you choose to slip in under ours. My eyes open the moment I can hear the silent patter of your feet walking up to our bed.

I can hear you.
In my sleep.


Yes, I can.

And now, now that you are growing up so fast, I feel insecure that these days will never come back. I feel that time is slipping away from my hands, and I’m trying to fist it up.
Harder and tighter. And faster before it slips away.


I notice how big you’ve grown. 5 years already, and I’m scared.
I’m scared that soon, you will not run after me because you will, consciously, be a bigger boy.
I’m scared that soon, you will not talk endlessly to me.
I’m scared that soon, you will not start everything with a screaming ‘Mamaa…’
I’m scared that soon, you will not hug me every time I stretch out my hands to you.
I’m scared that soon, you will not jump on my lap anymore.
I’m scared that soon, you will not curl your hands around my neck and sleep.

Soon.
Very soon.


Am I already feeling what they call the ‘empty nest syndrome,’ just a little early?

I have already realized that life can often be terribly ironical for a parent. Just until a year ago, I was trying to have you do a lot of your own work. That way, you could be independent, and I could also focus on the more mundane things we always strive to finish. Wearing clothes, taking a shower, eating, combing your hair, helping me with my work were few of the things on my to-do list for you. One step at a time, you helped me strike off these items on my list. Each time I struck out a bullet point, my heart both sank and danced. I felt weird.
My heart breaks when I see that you are getting so independent, but at the same time, it is very fulfilling to see your little nimble hands work out things for yourself. It is immensely satisfying to see your little fingers, soft palms, and tiny nails tugging at drawstrings, patiently buttoning a shirt, rubbing soap all over yourself.


While on one hand, I want you to grow up fast, on the other, I want to hold on to your childhood and not let it go! Grow up kid, just not so fast!
While on one hand my selfish mommy heart wants to hold you more and more, on the other hand, I understand how you are bracing yourself up for the times ahead, and how important it is to make you ready for your own life.

That consoles me.
That puts me at ease.
That makes me love you more.
And more.


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Icecream with a 4 year old

ryanicecreamlr2-1Eating icecream with a four-year old is a hilarious event in itself. However, all my sympathies and empathies lie with the icecream being discussed. The creamy journey of its life turns out to be pretty bad if it falls in the hands of a 3 or a 4 year old. This is what happens.

We buy an icecream. The stick comes out of the icecream wrapper which gets crumpled within a flash of a second, and I hear ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ and slurps of visual satisfaction as the entire icecream makes its grandiose show. Ryan looks at it from all angles trying to decide which is the best bet for the first lick.

Me: ‘Eat it fast. It will melt.’

My words fall just next to where the icecream wrapper was thrown a few seconds back.

After a complete visual survey, Ryan licks it. His eyebrows shoot high. His eyes become wider while his lips spread to his ears on both sides. I hear a never-ending ‘ummmmmmmmmmm’ which makes me take a sly look at the icecream. I find it still holding itself strong.

Somewhere close by, I hear the loud squeak of a squirrel. Ryan’s icecream reverie is almost broken and he looks up at a suspected tree with queer eyes. I notice the white droplet of icecream on his nose. One look at the icecream and I see it drip. One drop falls on the ground. A white circle; radius, circumference, and area undetermined.

That’s the beginning.

It’s starting. It’s starting to melt. It’s starting to melt.

The first tissue comes out of the wad that I bring along for our icecream sojourns. The top of the icecream is the low hanging fruit for him, and he works at it faster. I remind him that the bottom of the stick also needs some attention.

Me: ‘Eat the lower side too. It will melt.’

He looks at the lower side of the icecream. His warm mushy looks melt the lower end which rivers down his right hand, right down to the elbow. Had it been a few decades earlier with the same scene between me and my mom, by now I would have got a resounding whack on my back reminding me to eat it faster.

I am a more patient mother.

More tissues come out from the thinning wad, this time faster, one pulling the other, and the other pulling out more of the others frantically.

Racing against a trickling icecream is a tricky job for a mom. Jumping to my feet, I run to the store next to me and get a paper plate to hold the gathering white puddle. The icecream is in sad danger.

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Soon I realize that the paper plate is not enough to hold the white liquid. It needs depth. I run back to the store and get a paper glass this time. What a strange turn of incidents for the icecream. The unsuspecting big bodied thing gets reduced to a mere colorless puddle that is collected in a paper glass.

Finally, it’s time. The momentous moment when the icecream soup is to be sipped. And it gets sipped.

The icecream. gets. sipped.

Here ends the sad life of an otherwise cool icecream.

Unfortunately, I don’t have a pic of the icecream being sipped because I was too busy wiping my hands off the sticky liquid.

Hi, I am a Stay-at-home mom

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“All day long, I sit at my sunny window, staring at the cerulean sky dotted with real birds and motor-birds. I look at the moms and dads who are forever running to work in their hurried best, and I feel so blessed watching them from my eighteenth floor balcony. All day long. When I’m not looking at the sky, I lounge on the sofa, twirling fresh hand-picked Red Globe grapes in my mouth, watching soaps on the tele and sipping on luxurious teas; the hedonism of my ‘housewifey’ life interspersed with peppery talks with my equally jobless friends about my MIL.”

That’s what I do being a stay-at-home mom.

Thank you for the amazing question, and yes, I do notice the enchanting disbelief in your eyes.

It would be a meaningless cliche if I tell you what the question is.

Stay-at-home mom. A term that a lot of people often use disdainfully while trying to figure out what these moms do the whole day, and while just shrugging them off as housewives who don’t know how to ‘kill’ their time. But that is not what I want to talk about here. The point that I’m trying to make here is that we often overlook the real strong women behind these mom-faces, and how we stereotype them as just ‘women with kids’.

Strangely, and sadly enough, what the world fails to understand is that stay-at-home moms have made a wilful decision of being with their kids at their formative years, a decision that is unparalleled in its own, and a decision that is a product of conscious deliberation and extreme gumption. They have not made a sacrifice. They have chosen to be with their kids wilfully. The sad part is that we often end up putting these women into a nondescript bucket without actually looking at who they are as individuals. We never ask them what they are capable of because we have already written them off. They are perceived as just the bearers and the rearers of babies.

I’ve personally tested two scenarios: the first, in which I’ve introduced myself as a mom only; and the second, in which I’ve mentioned that I’m a budding entrepreneur. The second introduction sparks interest and follow-up questions appear (obviously), but the first introduction dies a natural death at the mention of ‘mom.’ It is true that there is no intention to belittle, but not a single person has ever asked what I did before I became a mom.

Let’s face the truth that being with a mini-me 24/7 is taxing and emotionally draining. We all have been there, and we all have felt isolated at some point in time. On the positive side, this is when moms make friends; at the park, the paediatrician’s, at daycares or at nurseries. During the time when I was a complete SAHM, I’ve made a lot of new friends who are moms; mostly stay-at-home. And what I’ve discovered is that behind a lot of these moms are actual strong identities, strong people, intelligent minds. In the last 4 years, I’ve met mums who have been Professors, Lecturers, Illustrators, Biologists, Language experts, and Artists. It has been fascinating to know such wonderful people from different spectrums of life who have revealed gems of personalities beneath their frizzy uncombed hairs and faces tired with babysitting. However, the same professors, biologists, artists are often quietly put aside as just mothers, with no focus on who are as individuals, or who they have been.

Having said everything above, it is also extremely positive to note that most of today’s SAHM’s have ignored the naysayers and are not letting themselves just be moms. They are fulfilling all their motherly duties, and are actually carving out time to nurture an interest, or a passion, or a business right from their homes. They are still growing as individuals while being moms. That is exactly what can bring about a massive change in the way they are perceived.

Ryan Tales-5. Ryan’s Startup Ideas

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Ryan has ‘startup ideas’ very frequently. Almost every other day, he comes up with a new ‘startup idea.’ Not only that, he tells us his idea with a lot of excitement and animation. With rolling bright eyes, and hands gesturing the fluidity of his explanation, he ends pitching his idea with raised eyebrows and a question: ‘good idea?’  His mouth generally remains open when he asks this question and his eyebrows still remain highly arched in anticipation of a ‘Yes, Ryan, good idea.’ When I speak in the affirmative, the open mouth easily moulds into a smile. When he sees that the proposal is not met with a lot of enthusiasm,  he insists that the idea is ‘really good,’ which, obviously, makes me break into a laughter.

We make sure to applaud his efforts, his thinking, and his explanatory skills each time he proposes an idea.  Two of his lightbulb thoughts are as follows:

IDEA 1. He wants to repair torn pants. Hilarious right? He got this idea when he saw his dad disheartened one fine morning.

The dad was getting ready for office, and was about to wear his favorite trousers when he discovered that the trousers were torn at an unmentionable spot. And the tear was visibly there, unmistakable, and gaping. The dad gave a scream of sorrow, and on hearing it, the son ran to get some tape (scotch tape, precisely) to cover up the rip. He got some tape and insisted on putting it on the tear in the pants. I feel that the dramatic sorrow of the dad triggered the idea more than the ripped pants, and the entrepreneurial innocent heart came up with the thought of repairing torn clothes for ‘evvverybody.’

IDEA 2. The second idea is actually a good one. Very user friendly I must say. Ryan wants to build more ergonomic elevators by putting two control panels inside elevator cars instead of one!

It is remarkable that he noticed that elevators have only one control panel inside. Only people who are close to the panel find it easy to press the required button for a floor. If the elevator is a big one, passengers standing on the opposite corner have to make way for themselves to press a button, or request someone to do it for them. Ryan’s creativity processed really fast one afternoon, and he suggested having two control panels instead of one. He proposes that there should be two panels on two sides of the door or on two opposite walls so passengers on both sides find it easy to select their floors. The idea floored me, and I hugged him out of motherly pride.

I am yet to figure out the exact reason why there is only one buttons panel in an elevator car. Can you can be a good samaritan and tell me the precise reason for this design?

He has a lot more such lightbulb moments and we are cherishing them!

5 Hilarious/Weird questions for the SAHM

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I’ve been a stay-at-home mom for a tiny, few years now. Though I’ve been true to the nomenclature ‘stay-at-home,’ ( I don’t know where else I would have stayed otherwise), I have been almost as much in a professional domain as any other working mom. It is just that I’ve not really attended meetings in person, or sent out worksheets, or talked to clients, or been to an office office per se, but I’ve constantly remained in mainstream work with the little time I had in hand. Now that I am making a direct foray into work, I looked back and revisited questions asked to me by other moms and some of my friends who have seen just that mommy face of mine. Here they go:

1.’You have a laptop?’ with eyebrows shooting up to the stratosphere. Im too flabbergasted to reply. What is the big deal if I have a laptop?

2.’You use a power bank? For what?’  Oh gosh, this one! What can a power bank do?

3.’Eh, you don’t watch Bigg Boss? But you are at home right?’ I fail to understand the connection between Bigg Boss and my being at home!

4. ‘Whose Macbook was that in your house?’ I reply ‘Mine.’ Pop comes the followup question ‘Yours??!’ The reaction is often surprising to me, and the reason could be that the people who asked me this were Windows users.

5. The master blaster question ‘What do you do the whole day?’ Again a question that doesn’t even deserve a rant. If I were to mention what I do from 5:00 in the morning till 11 in the night,  you would want to run away.

It is fun and weird at the same time to answer questions of such an elevated nature. I have been honored to face such incarnations of curiosity, and I’d love to meet some more! Im sure there are a lot of such questions the SAHM group may have faced. What has been yours?

 

Ryan Tales-4

ryancardboard2Flash tales from Ryan.

This happened a few months back when Ryan had just started formal schooling.

Aware that any food that drops on the floor is supposed to be thrown into the dustbin, Ryan makes sure that his food remains in its container and doesn’t really fall. However, being a kid, we all understand how ‘things just fall down on their own'(I am quoting him) when he eats.

Let me note here that he is a chatterbox, and we come to know of everything that happens in his class, or anything new that he may have seen at school. Well yes, until now, he is a radio station for his class.

Apparently, one day, a piece of fruit had fallen down from his snack box. Ryan, strangely, picked it up and ate it.  When he came home, he started telling his ‘school-stories’ with excitement. Suddenly, he came to the fruit story. This was how the conversation between us went on:

Ryan with eyes rounded and eyebrows touching the stratosphere: ‘Mamma, today, an apple fell down from my snack box.’

Me: ‘Oh, only one piece fell or did all the pieces fall down?’

Ryan: ‘No, only one.’

Me: ‘Ok. What did you do with it?’ My happy mommy hopes were rising up to hear the word ‘trashcan.’ I heard it, but with a twist.

Ryan: ‘I ate it.’

Me: ‘What! You ate the apple that fell on the ground? Why?’ My happy-mommy hopes already dashed by then.

Ryan: ‘Mamma, I picked up the apple, and looked for the trash. But there was no trashcan in the class. So I ate it.’

My heart melted. I wanted to laugh out loud. I wanted to tell him the alternatives to the situation, but for the moment, I hugged him and laughed.

I love him for his spunk creativity and innocent spirit.

Read up the earlier Ryan tales at Ryan Tales-3,  Ryan Tales-2, and Ryan Tales.

 

 

 

 

 

Ryan Tales-3

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Flash tales from Ryan, Part 3.

What do I tell you about this kid?

Though he is just 4, he is already a conversationalist, and it is really fun to talk to him. Especially when he tries to reason out his actions or statements.

The same guest couple mentioned in Ryan Tales-2 was enjoying talking to  Ryan. We were the audience.

‘Aunty’ to Ryan: ‘Ryan, who is your favorite cartoon character?’

Ryan without thinking or blinking: ‘Me. I’m my favorite cartoon.’

Aunty: ‘But why?’

Ryan:’Because my mamma calls me a cartoon sometimes. Thats why Im my favorite cartoon.’

We all had the moment of our lives. We laughed heartily, and seeing us laugh, Ryan understood that his statement of truth was really funny.

Trust me when I say that the boy has his nouns, pronouns, and verbs in place, and I don’t have to rephrase his spoken sentences at all.

You can also read up Ryan Tales and Ryan Tales-2 for some more funny moments with him.

Ryan Tales-2

ryancardboard2Flash tales from Ryan, Part 2.

A guest couple came home, and fascinated by Ryan’s oratory skills and vocabulary, the ‘aunty’ asked him a lot of general knowledge questions. Ryan paid attention to some, shrugged off some, showed himself as extremely busy at some questions, and played pranks at some more. However, when he had started to warm up to some questions, he gave answers which stumbled us all. Here’s one.

Aunty to Ryan: ‘Ryan, which animal has the longest neck?’

Now, for those fraction of seconds when Ryan was about to answer, all of us, the shallow tea-sipping general bourgeois, limited our thoughts to the poor nondescript giraffe as the animal with the longest neck.

While we were just waiting for him to utter what our mind was speaking, he popped out ‘Dinosaur. Some dinosaurs.’

Alas, we couldn’t prove him wrong.  As the mom, I could see that a Brachiosaurus was walking in Ryan’s mind.

Kudos to his creativity.

If you are following the ‘Ryan Tales’ series, here’s the first one – Ryan Tales.

Ryan Tales

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Flash tales from Ryan.

Growing big day by day, he is learning more and more, questioning more and more, and making us laugh more and more. One such flash tale from him:

Ryan: ‘Mamma, I learnt about transport today. Road transport, tracks transport, water transport, and air transport.’ Smiles.

Me: ‘that’s so nice Ryan. So what did you learn about water transport? What are the modes of water transport?’

Ryan: ‘ Ship.’ Pause.

Me: ‘Ok’

Ryan: ‘Boat.’ Pause.

Me: ‘Wonderful.’

Ryan: ‘And crocodile.’

I almost jumped out of myself and looked at his face. I didnt say much because I had a long laughter session that noon.

One Grapeseed and the Sofa – Our Treasure Island

treasureOur sofa set is a treasure trove with the ownership of the treasure clearly identified. This has been a recent serendipitous discovery for us. Now, if anything is missing in the house, the first place to hunt for it is to rip up the sofa seat cushions and the headrest, and viola! You may find what you have lost!

It all started with the hunt for the seed of a grape that fell at the conjunction of the sofa seat and the armrest. Ryan was eating big grapes that had big seeds. One of these seeds popped out of his mouth and fell into the invisible slot between the seat cushion and the armrest of the sofa. Now, since my kiddo is a really ‘nice’ guy, he wanted to pile up all the seeds at the corner of his snack box. He couldn’t take the daring obstinacy of that one seed that fell in there and almost disappeared into the black hole. Down he came from the sofa, and fought with the sofa seat to pull it up. It was almost a wrestling scene in there. I remained a silent spectator. He grunted and groaned; I also overlooked a few episodes of his falling back on the ground with the futile impact of pulling up the seats. Slowly, the headrest was thrown on the other side of the sofa. Gradually, I could hear the ripping of the velcro from underneath the cushions. And then he did it! One huge pull, and the seat bounded off.

That one pull of the sofa seat unravelled treasures unknown, that were once owned and loved, and forever forgotten when these precious gems of possession had suspiciously vanished. Now they were right before their owner, and the expression of surprise and joy on the face of the kiddo was remarkable.

‘Mamma! See what I found,’ came a joyous cry.

Still silent, I went to see what exactly he had discovered. Here’s a quick list:

A green jumping frog, a batman figure, two cars, a toy nurse with a huge head, a host of crayons, a play-doh jar cover, a building blocks window, a plastic spoon, a Kinder Joy surprise toy, a block of Jenga, and a lot of things which I have removed from the photo above to avoid mommy-shame. Some of these include a lot of puffed rice pieces, unused crumpled tissues, a few coins, a dehydrated piece of what seemed an apple slice, two candy wrappers that were beyond recognition, torn crayon covers, and a broken plastic fork. But the lost gem that won hands down was a Yakult bottle still sealed and still intact in its fermented glory. You can see that bottle on the right side in the picture above.

The boy gave gasps of joy as he handed out each of his once lost toys and victoriously held them out. I seemed ecstatic too, though surprise was probably the chief of my expressions!

And then out came the nondescript colorless grapeseed that had initiated this treasure hunt. Ryan picked it and safely placed it in the middle of his empty snack box. Just as expected! Take my word for it. He had piled them up, not me.

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Happy to have found more than what he was looking for, the boy remained busy for the rest of the day with his rediscovered toys, and I didn’t dare to see what lay hidden under the other seats. I kept that as a surprise for another day. I was still trying to calculate how that sly Yakult bottle had slid down under that seat and remained there happily.