Category Archives: Parenting

Goodbye my darling …

Dear Peter Petrosky Bob,

You were the pet  I reluctantly agreed to. I thought getting you as a return gift was way too much responsibility. I looked at how to barter you away at the party itself. But the elf was having nothing of it. He wanted a fish if all his friends got to take home one.

At first I thought that fish were boring – I felt guilty, icky to change your water. But as time went by, you fascinated me.

I loved how your body changed from pure white to black, to the beautiful colour you were. You were my magical fish. My pride – no one else had a fish which changed colour. It amused me how when you saw the tall one you would get all excited knowing he would feed you. If fish ever did a happy dance this was it. 

You tolerated the elf tap tapping and all the excitement the elf showed dancing around you during your water change. 

I often said that you were the only one of my  boys who listened to me. Every time I spoke to you, you came to the top of your bowl to blow me kisses. Every time I sang “hello hello” you came up and told me you love me. 

Even today as you struggled at the bottom of the bowl – you came up to speak to me when you heard my voice – I will be forever touched that you tried so hard. I will miss your puckered lips, your sexy pout, your little black eyes. 

It was miserable to watch you suffer helplessly for the last few days and for that I am glad you are in a better place. 

But now as you lie still at the bottom of your bowl, I keep glancing at the bowl and not seeing you swim around breaks my heart.

Thank you Peter Petrosky Bob for the memories and for teaching my kid and us to love a little more. 

Forever my Petu Singh! Muah!

Jai Nuttie Mata ki! 

Oh good! Now you can spend time with the elf.

What made you leave your job now? After he is 3 years old.

Don’t you feel it is so much better for the elf that you quit your job?

If you were the random aunty or those “holier than thou human beings” I would smile and say yes. While I seethe inside. Do people really think that a mother would do something which is not good for their kid as they are implying me going to work was. Do they really mean to imply that I was being selfish because I chose to work over staying at home. 

How do I explain to them that I am not a bad mother nor do I love my kid less  because I felt no guilt at going to work. Don’t get me wrong, I had my days of guilt, my days of wondering If it was all worth it – but on an average I was happy! 

I don’t believe in living in guilt. I have always maintained that the elf was my priority and the day I felt that the elf was suffering or I was suffering because I went to work I would give it up.

I don’t believe the elf is better off or worse off because I worked for the first three years of his life. Online you will find all the pros and cons to working mothers. So I am not going to elaborate. 

Coming back to me – No, I didn’t quit out of guilt. I didn’t have a eureka moment 3 years later that I horror or horrors sent my kid to a daycare. 

I quit for me.

I reached a point where the next steps in my career in the banking sector didn’t ignite a passion in me. I felt empty. I felt I needed to do more for my soul. 

Sure being at home would make things logistically much easier because the elf had started school but that wasn’t my primary reason. 

The main reason I quit was me.

In India, for a woman the word ‘me’ is taboo – you always quit because of marriage or kids or parents or because your husband changed locations. 

But imagine a mother saying she chose not to work to find herself . 

Quitting for yourself is tough to explain. It’s tough to tell people that today if I find something I am truly passionate about I would go back to working. Sure I will look for more flexibility because I wanted to spend more time with the elf but yes I want to go back into the workforce. 

I have realised I can’t explain myself.i explain myself to the ones that matter. I think they see my view point. But to the rest of the world I am ok being the “good mother”

Beta good thing you quit. See elf is more friendly now –

Yes Aunty – all for him!

Now everyone say Jai Nuttie Mata ki! 

(Loosely translated to All hail mother nuttie) 

W is for Wisdom

Many many centuries ago i wrote a blog on the wisdom I had acquired in my twenties. Going through the list I realised now almost in my mid- thirties I didn’t have much to add. Pretty sad huh?

The only wisdom I have acquired is a few motherhood truths that i have learnt. Don’t yawn! Read – I am the bodh gaya (tree of enlightenment) type of wise ! 

  • There are no right or wrong answers. Do what is best for you and your family and only you and your spouse can decide that. So stay at home, work, daycare, no nanny, Co-sleep, blah blah blah as it works for you. Don’t ever try and convince another mom that your way is the best way.
  • It’s ok to prioritise yourself.You are still a person – not just a mother. Go for that night out, the girls trip or the spa. Don’t feel guilty.
  • Motherhood will give you million opportunities to feel guilty and can be overwhelming. Your kid will exhaust you mentally and physically. You will do things you are not proud of you – you will cry, scream, yell or sulk. And that’s ok. Don’t beat yourself up. Once you will feel better, resolve to do better the next day/next hour
  • Your spouse is a parent too. Let him do it his way. Let him change he diaper, or feed the kid the “wrong way”. The baby and he will survive to tell the tale. I promise. 
  • Your child is a person too – respect their need for space, their need to bend the rules, their need to throw a tantrum. Don’t we all do so once in a while.
  • As much as possible, don’t lie to them. Give them logic and hear their view point out.  In a popular Facebook forum – a mother was bemoaning that her 4 year old drank frooti everyday. The universal suggestion was to make frooti and put it into a used carton. My suggestion to make the kid understand junk food was blown away as he is too small. My only point being how long and for how many things will you lie and make up stories. Anyway, living up to the non judgemental part of parenting – I shall move on.
  • And lastly but most importantly spread the word that being a parent is awesome. Don’t tell them about the lack of sleep, the exhaustion, the questions you are asked , the questions in your head, the utter terror your child can be when they make up in the morning.

Coz that way you won’t be the only one being driven crazy imps.

<insert cruel laugh>

This is part of the April Atozchallenge and this is my entry for W. 

S is for Sonshine

When the Elf was born, I was a bit disappointed he was not a girl. It helped that I felt that babies were genderless, but now as he becomes a little boy, I have genuinely started to believe boys are so sweet.

So this is for my sonshine and all the other sonshines who make our hearts beat out of both fear, exasperation and love – alternately and together.

Something so innocent and impish about them – alternately and together. Little girls you are just as awesome I am sure.

But back to little boys…

Little boys are piglets. They will touch and lick everything. Every single thing. Sitting on the ground of a restaurant, a dirty shop or a puddle is common place.

So much so that we don’t even notice anymore. All my friends who have little girls are aghast that the elf spends so much time under the table at a restaurant. My standards are very low – I am just glad he doesn’t sit on the floor at a public loo.

FYI I make him stand in a public loo with his hands up which I hold with one hand so that he can’t touch anything.

Anyway as a result they are always dirty. I have never seen such black hands, legs or nails in my life!

– They run. Like just keep running or if they are on a cycle , they run on the cycle. It’s like they are testing us – how fast can you chase us. How strong is your heart to sustain the fact that I can just run off and you won’t know where I am. And yes just to show you how strong I am – I will jump off things and if there are no things to jump off – I will just keep jumping !

– Also they are not bothered about who is joining them to play. I notice the little girls who come down to play, pick and choose their companions. I feel sad to see them already start these excluding some girls and all boys from play. With boys and the tomboys they play with (at least as of now) it’s like you have feet, you got a car – let’s run with your feet while we drive the car over all the messy puddles and muddy pots.

Speaking about mud, elf just saw a couple on TV having a mud bath and demands one himself. I fear the next time I turn my back on him, that’s exactly what he will do.

– Which brings me to the next point never turn your back or close your eyes for 5 minutes unless you want water poured into your toothpaste, a mixture of powder and cream carefully spread on your bed, lipstick put on their shirts, oil put on their heads or paper shredded and thrown into water.

– Little boys come with an extra attachment – cars. It’s like cars, cars, everywhere – you develop great expertise in jumping over the 32 hot wheels cars that permanently inhabit your floor and the 25 other non hot wheel cars and vehicles . Serious hopping skill sets being developed.

– They are rough. Good lord, entertainment for the elf is me pushing him on the bed, wrestling with his dad and playing kabbadi by himself.

– Major irritants with little boys are watching sports, the potty jokes and the absolute inability to pee into the pot. For a kid who can throw the ball so accurately while playing, his aim while peeing is hard to believe.

– Little boys are the biggest ego boost ever. Mama looks so pretty in her old slacks and t-shirt, mama makes the best fish, mama knows everything, mama leave your hair open – it’s pretty, mama is prettier than the Aunty on TV – take that Aishwarya Rai. Also dadu can’t sit near mama, no keep distance, no coming near – yup no siblings happening in the near future. I have a friend whose 5 year old kid will yell if his mom is not the first face he sees.

If the elf sees me in the kitchen for long or if I am reading in another room, he will make frequent trips to visit me updating me on all the things I have missed in the world in the last 2.5 minutes I have been away from him.

– They don’t like kisses or hugs. They will squirm, and struggle and act like you are torturing them. And your heart will be a little sad that the baby is really growing up.

But then at night when the lights go off, you might feel like a lizard has fallen on your waist but it’s a little hand trying to hug you to sleep, the little cheeks want kisses, he wants to know if you love him and wants all the petting you can give.

He is then just my little vulnerable boy !

And as I go to sleep – i sing in my head.

You are my sonshine,
My only sonshine,
You make me happy when skies are grey.
You’ll never know just how I much I love you. You will always remain my sonshine forever.

I know he will outgrow this someday but I will cherish it forever and I do believe every now and then however big he is – he will find a way to let me know *he thinks I am da bomb I mean mom*

This is part of the April blogathon and this is my entry for S.

M is for Mamma Mia

It’s almost blasphemous for me to choose anything else for M. M is for my mommy and I am totally going to cheat on this blog! I wrote this many many moons ago about my mommy and is still as relevant today as it was then. My thoughts or feelings haven’t changed.

https://dropzofjupiter.wordpress.com/2010/05/10/the-lioness-and-her-cub/

Did I still say that this holds true. Yup believe it while it was written 6 years ago, I am still 28.

The only thing that has changed since is that I have someone who now calls me mamma. Sometimes more often that I would like 😉

Having a baby has proved to me once again why I need my mommy around – the way my mom looked after me when my kid was born was well… What only a mother can do.

My only advice to all going to be moms is – however awesome your mil is, go to your mommy when you have a baby.

The one person in the world who was as bothered about me as she was about the baby.

The person who walked with my kid for 2-3 hours as he screamed during his colicky stage.

The person who stayed up with him the night he was born as I slept almost comatose after a long long 17 hour labour.

The person who took over from “‘munde tai” his personal masseuse when he was born and gave him extra special baths and massages – he still gets them when she is here.

The only one who told a starving nursing mother to let the baby cry and finish my food.

The person who gives me confidence that I am raising my kid ok.

And most importantly the person who told me not to feel guilt and to prioritise me too.

The best compliment I get is when she thinks I am a good mom. Because while other kids my age are now looking after their parents – I am still being looked after.

And knowing her (and knowing me) that’s not going to change when I am 60 either

H is for holidays

So on 28th of March my house was stuck by an earthquake and on 29th by a tornado and the subsequent jolts, quivers and speedy breezes have continued since. I am surprised that the walls in my house are brave enough to stand.

The floor has given up and understands that its existence is going to be dotted by 32 small hot wheels cars and innumerable others cars and vehicles of different shapes and sizes.

My feet understand that until June every time it takes a step, a Lego will attempt to pierce right through my foot.

My sofas have put on a brave face and steadied their springs to the incessant jumping!

The artifacts around the house quiver when ‘
the whoosh of a ball passes them.

My fridge groans in despair after it has been opened for the 10563th time in the day.

My lap and nose and various body parts wonder in silence where they will live to see my 35th year of existence

As I walk around my house, I feel their accusingly looks and if they could talk they would say

Why nuttie why?!!

Sure every school has holidays but haven’t you heard of summer camps. Every Meena, Teena and Ameena is sending their kids to advance the kids skills while the mothers maintain their sanity. What bravery medal were you aspiring for when you decide your kid should be free during summer holidays. You wanted him to be able to do as he pleases during his holidays just like you did as a kid. Unstructured play it seems. Pfft…imagination some more pfft,

I take a deep breath and tell them only 7 weeks more.

I hear the low hum of chanting/praying and beseeching to the Gods while I walk away!

this is part of the Atozchallenge – unofficially of course and this is my entry for h

Letting go…

My baby started school today. As an excited elf wears his uniform, my heart feels heavy. I have been feeling this way for a couple of days I wonder why because he has been in daycare since he was less than a year old.

He is very excited, excited about the swings and the slides he has seen, excited about the uniform he gets to wear.

We enter school and I sense his mood change. He keeps telling me to come in with him. We enter his classroom and hang around for a while. It’s time for me to go, I kiss him goodbye. In the commotion, I don’t think he registers what I am saying. We look back and he is crying either joining in the general tears or he actually wants to cry.

I worry – I know he will stop crying once something interests him. But I worry, if his heart is heavy, if he is scared or if he is worried I won’t pick him up. Who is going to reassure him.

We peak in from a window and the tall one sees him trying to open his bottle, the teacher helps him. The bottle is new – what if he has forgotten how to use it. I should have practised with him more.

I worry about school just being too grown up for him. In a daycare he was looked after. Didn’t we look after ourselves in school?

Who is going to blow his nose or help him in the loo. Make him eat?

I know he is not the friendliest kid in town – will he make friends or would he be sidelined. I know he doesn’t know to hit back – will he get bullied?

Is this the right school? Will the school interfere in the unique way in which he thinks?

The logical part of me knows he will figure it out – learn to stand up for himself, eventually make friends – but the mama in me wants to protect him.

I walk out of the school with tears in my eyes. The realisation dawns that everyday I need to let go of my baby a little more. Everyday is a step away from babyhood to becoming a real person

God bless little one! Spread your wings and fly. Don’t mind your silly mama crying at every milestone. Fly my baby – soar!