I Don't Wanna Mommy Today

I Don't Want to Mommy Today

I LOVE my kids. Who doesn’t? But I want some time off.

I just want to sip my hot coffee, slowly, with a slurp even.

I want to roll in bed half asleep refusing to wake up and waking up only when I am tired of sleeping. Yes, tired of sleeping was phrase that I knew too well.

I want to speak a complete sentence without being interrupted.

I want to wear shoes with laces and have time to tie those laces.

I want to take a long shower even though I wasn’t a long shower kind of person.

I want to eat with both hands, using cutlery and table manners and not have someone pick into my plate, hang on my shoulders or pull my hair.

I want my room, my little heavenly place, my sanctuary, spic and span and without toys for a change.

I want to wear a dress that remains clean for more than 3 minutes.

I want to drive at the speed I like and listen to LOUD music without the worry of waking anyone up.

I also don’t want to responsible all the time.

I want to swear when I am pissed off and not worry about being mimicked or have the shame of setting a bad example and not having my shit together.

I want my eyes to wander where they want or even stare into space and not watch over toddler play.

I want a li’l freedom from worrying about meals and snacks and playtime and activity. I want to read a book (not a parenting one).

I want to comb my hair (Should be higher up in the list).

I want to paint my nails in one go.

I want to carry a small clutch and have my necessary outings' belonging fit into it. Just for a day. ONE day. Not more than that at all.

Because then I miss the constant chatter of ‘mamma mamma mamma mamma’ in a cute toddler voice.

I miss the bright smile on seeing me like I am something very special.

I miss the duckling like behaviour of following the Mamma duck everywhere.

I miss the joy he finds in small things (OMG OMG a bucket a mug and waterrrr!!)

I miss the enthusiasm he has for new revelations, OH MY GOD, she opened the tap there, and water came out here, at the end of the hose!!).

I miss the tiny hands holding mine.

I miss the tiny feet trying to stand on mine.

I miss the absolute thrill of him thinking he has tricked me and has found the perfect hiding place behind the curtains, and I definitely cannot see his feet from underneath.

I miss the hands behind the back, half-walk, half-jog when I try to catch him with my mock run.

I miss the endless love he shares with me for LEGO.

I miss the bewildered look of ‘where am I?’ when he wakes up and then the loving, smile of acknowledgement on seeing me.

I miss the soft hands searching for me even while asleep to get some sense of comfort and security.

I miss the responsibility, the purpose of being this new Mom-me.

It’s like this; how boring would Batman find to be just Bruce Wayne after living a life of a superhero. The plain stuff just gets boring. Coffee? Pfft, anyone can have coffee. Try having coffee with a toddler insisting you make him wear his shirt NOW while the baby at the arm tries to sip your coffee. Now that’s skill.

Kaddu bana diya hai by God in bacchon ne. I wanna be a Mommy.

Hormonal Cocktail (Part 1)

Your body is not your own the minute the line turns pink. It's like a caution signal- you'll never be alone. It is a BIG responsibility and the first time you become a mom, it can be quite overwhelming. The world moves around doing its own thing as though nothing has changed but for you, nothing in your world is the same.

From that moment on, you're always pregnant. It's not like a pair of uncomfortable yet gorgeous high heels that you can take off, flex your tired feet, wear again and feel awesome and ready. Nope. You're always with that little seedling in you. When you breathe, walk, talk, shower, when you exhaust yourself shopping, while cooking, while others are partying and you're sipping your lemonade... you are always pregnant and liable. One doesn't know real responsibility and consequence like you do now. You can knowingly test the limits of your body, work out a bit more, eat junk food, party hop till late and be careless here and there. When you're becoming a mother, the pregnancy guilt comes free along with the pregnancy and you can’t take day a off from it. You have to grow up in a day (or minute) and the world can still be footloose and fancy free. But everybody around you doesn't seem to get the gravity of the situation. They can't figure out what happened to you. Where did the ‘live each day’, ‘carpe diem’ person vanish? Why are you sitting at a party like 60s goodie two shoes and sipping tumeric latte? B.e.c.a.u.s.e. The responsible new mom can't handle the guilt of anything harming your little, even microscopic baby. In fact, one does everything better than ever because only you are in charge now.

The world gets divided into 2- The Pregnant, and The Un-Pregnant. Your single friends, newlyweds, etc are all in the other half along with your husband sipping some delicious drinks wondering what the fuss is all about. And you're here, with your sober pregnant friends, tch-tching, shaking your heads on why they don't get it. (And how funny people look when drunk). Conversations became frequent with fellow pregnant people and dominated by pregnancy talk- 'how was the visit to Dr. S? Started folic acid? BabyCenter said my baby is the size of a papaya by now. Yup, I downloaded the baby Mozart App. Apparently the pregnancy glow kicks in only in the second trimester....’ Even if mentally you're symptom free, physically embarrassing giveaways (hello nausea and such) remind you that you're not alone.

Mentally one becomes such a cocktail of hormones that even though I had been 'me' for 28 years of my life, I couldn't figure out whether my emotions are 'me' or 'hormones'. Welling up on sensitive, family kinda advertisements (that one about the grand-mom bringing in food for her sick grandson in the hospital), calling mom again and telling her how much I love her, calling mom in law and asking her to visit NOW, finding newer, deeper meanings to sappy songs, finding new love for old friends and expressing it (uncomfortably) too often, discovering new worries, imagining new fears. What a pot boiling time!

And then my favorite target, The Good Chap who had promised, for better or for worse. Even though we'd known each other for 10 years by now, he couldn't have imagined this kinda roller-coaster. Every day was a new day.
Sometimes high energy- 'lets listen to loud music, dance, then walk, then maybe a swim, then we'll go to the market, then we'll cook together, then we'll watch a movie (reality- watched movie, ordered food). 
Sometimes, my dark broody side- 'what is the world coming to? Have you seen how polluted the air is? There are famines happening! Girls aren't safe in our country. My maid didn't come today. The oranges we bought were sour. There isn't one decent politician'.
Sometimes tears- 'we are so lucky to have such lovely parents, the neighbor’s dog died, why do you have night duty today? Omg I love my sister, omg you're the best husband.  Sometimes cannon fire- 'you said you'll be back in an hour, it’s been 4 hours! Is badminton that important? When will you accompany me for a walk? Do you listen to what I say? WHY is the weather so warm? That day you said such and such, the tone was horrible'. 
I'd be sitting patiently, waiting, fuming, and then unleashing my new found anger on him, or waiting for him to wipe away my wimpy tears and make the world seem like a better place or just be. He was the cause of and solution to all my problems. Glorious days!

And this was just the first 3 months...

No kiddin'. Mom is a person TOO!

One of the best tangents of becoming a parent is seeing your own parents in new light. (This is me adulting). While searching for some good pictures of my kids with me I came across old pictures of my parents as new parents. In the pictures, they were the same age that I am today. 

     

If I could time travel, I'd be at one of their house parties, wearing bell-bottom trousers, slightly moving to ABBAs playing in the background.

My parents as new parents

I've seen these pictures a 100 times growing up. And the focus has always been to look at how my sister or I looked as a kid. But today all I could see was them. New parents' glow. Celebrating first birthdays, balloons and streamers put up by dad, beautifully decorated homemade cakes and snacks by mom and a fussy cranky toddler. Precious. No amount of money can buy the effort that went into planning and executing that party. None of the artificial looking fondant cakes or birthday parties at posh hotels can ever match what Mom made and organised.

I saw bright, colourful happiness in black and white pictures. My parents celebrating parenthood moments with such fondness; baby massages, first time Nani, a young Dad managing to fit his daughter in his strong muscular forearm. A young Mom, looking gorgeous, was smiling brightly with a baby, rounder than her, clinging to her arm.

For the first time in all these years, I could relate more with the people my parents were than the parents they've always been. They too like us would've been putting their best foot forward (for us) despite being exhausted (by us). They would've dreamed like we do today of what we'll become and how we'll turn out. They too would've worried themselves sick when we were sick. My god, Mom Dad are people too. Just like us. Why didn't I ever see that earlier? Why do I always expect them to have more patience, more love, more forgiveness, more everything than me?

Today when I see them as grandparents, I get a glimpse of what they would've been with us when we were babies. How they would've pacified us, fed us, cheered at our little milestones, entertained us, lulled us to sleep. And how after a long tiring day of handling us, they would've still been smiling and considering it worth it.

Left: My dad with his first born
Right: My Dad with his first grandchild

My Parents, now Grandparents

Same enthusiasm years later

Left: My Nani as a first time Nani.
Right: My mom as a first time Nani

If I could time travel, I'd be at one of their house parties, wearing bell-bottom trousers, slightly moving to ABBAs playing in the background and telling them what wonderful parents they are going to be.

Word

Enhance yourself.

Image courtesy
Thebrocode.in

Happy Birthday

I just saw a 4 minute video of a complete ceaserian section. I thought it would be the ideal way to celebrate my first born son's second birthday. Reminiscence.

Within the first minute I was holding back the extreme urge to puke. But the will to not ruin a mommy moment overpowered my gut reflex. Even in the 'bloody' video 4 minutes seemed like ages! Ew and the blood, the slicing, the gore.

Wow we reallllly handle newborns like they're made of wax, look at the confident, matter of fact, swift movements of the doc with the baby who is still halfway out of the oven (so to say).

The baby in the video made its first sound. Its first feel of the outside world. Welcome little one.

In an instant my face relaxed with a smile. The same lil noise of life that changed mine forever. The video wasn't gory at all.

Love love love!

Grass is green

It was a gooood day to just roll on the grass. With my toddler around I get to relive my childhood without looking silly!

2008 v/s 2016

2008 V/S 2016

Waking Up

2008: '5 more minutes please Mom' snooze that goes on for much more than 5 times 5 minutes. Lounge around in bed and then wake up to my favorite music playing loudly.

2016: Slap, pinch, clobber. Either one of the two kids take turns to check if mommy is still in bed or has she sneaked out. Either one of the kids is handed out to my Mom and the other one is further pacified or negotiated with for '5 more minutes please kiddo'.

Getting Ready

2008: 10 minutes flat. Get up, shower, get ready, and step out. It is the same for any given day. +/- 10 mins for makeup fiascos and wardrobe settlements.

2016: Bathe the Toddler: 'please don't eat the soap, here, these are bath toys, yup that's a green duck, yes it's a weird choice of colour for a duck, no I don't give a duck about the duck's colour', negotiate getting out of the bucket, 'bye bucket, bye mug! Okay sure, bye potty'. Sing songs while making him wear clothes, else he'll realise what’s happening’. Make him wear his left shoe, then right shoe, please don’t remove your shoe, find left shoe, please don't remove the right shoe too, wear left shoe again.

Bathe the Baby: Baby has a motor sense that even he doesn't know about, which goes into excitement mode on discovering his hands or catching hold of his feet.

Finally, my turn. Try having a bath while ignoring the thoughts and noises in my head and the noises outside. Did I hear a cry? A crash? What if the elder one bites the younger one? What if the younger one rolls over?  5 minutes flat.

Total time taken: 1 hour (on a good day).

Getting Out

2008: Grab your phone, wallet, keys. Get in the car. Done.

2016: Phone, wallet, keys, car seat, water bottle, snack tiffin, meal tiffin, teether, board books for bored kid in car ride, nursing cover, diaper bag, baby carrier, stroller. I think I am missing something.

Heading out of the house without the kid(s) feels odd and empty, like someone has pressed a mute button... You can see things moving but the background score is missing. Apart from that one feels guilty. What if the kids are both crying? What if they both woke up? How will mom handle them alone? This is just selfish. I should head back. Maybe I should call them. What if my call wakes them up? Then I'm the ass. Damn it. I should've got at least one kid along.

Other scenario:

ALL ON-BOARD.

March down to the car looking like a small army unit. Attach the car seat, seat the baby, strap the toddler, and seat yourselves. Breathe. Say a lil prayer. Done.

Eating Out

2008: Lazily study the menu. Bring out the foodie in me and let her enjoy being spoilt for options. Talk over food about ideas, ideals, gossip, fads; movies... build fancy castles in air. Eat using both hands, cutlery and table manners. Savour each dish and give it the appreciation it deserves.

2016: Order what your trusted friend thinks is nice there, just make sure its non veg. Negotiate, plead, bribe the baby into sitting in the pram/stroller/high chair/baby seat. Do a happy dance if agreed. Gulp down food and drinks like you’re on the Amazing Race of food sans cutlery and manners. Talk over food about new habits, new milestones, parenting ideals and principles, the latest pissing-off thing someone said to you about your child/parenting style, get saturated with kid-talk, and divert to other topics.. er.. realise you don’t know what other things are happening in the world. Oh, food’s done.

Superhero Skills

2008 Level: Ordinary person.

2016 Level: MOM

I've got so used to having a kid at the arm that if both my hands are free I feel my body is underutilized. I have cooked a meal, watered plants, changed clothes, and loaded a collapsed pram into a car trunk etc, with baby in one arm. I’ve carried a baby, car seat, bag full of groceries, handbag, toddler shoes and phone in one trip from the car to our first floor house. Yup, did look funny. Nope, baby didn’t laugh, doesn’t have that kind of sense of humour yet.

Patience

2008: I think I am a patient person. (lol, that’s cute. You know nothing yet)

2016: Patient enough to see my prim and proper room in a constant mess of toys, half eaten food, wrinkled, jumped on bed. Patient enough to watch my toddler immensely enjoying himself while eating dosa dipped in water. Patient enough to clean the kitchen slab yet again, to pick up the toys once more, to answer each question every time with somewhat the same enthusiasm and interest. To hell with patience, I enjoy this stuff. I dig it. Love it. 2008 me would be flipping over about this. Not me.

The Person

I am the same person I have always been, this new side of me had not debuted till now. I thought I would not be able to extend into this role easily. There were so many things 2008 me thought I’d be horrible at, like talking to toddler, being able to get that giggle out of them, to be goofy and cheery and not fake it. 2016 (more confident about this) me doesn’t look back to see if my toddler is laughing at my goofs or laughing at someone standing behind me. I know that the throaty giggle is for my pretend-sneeze, or funny face. When my toddler comes running to me when sleepy or hurt, I derive as much comfort from our hug as much as he does, maybe more.

Something about these small tiny humans just inspires a change. A change is so subtle, so gradual, it sneaks up on you very slowly and before you know it, you’re someone else or a different version of yourself, (H 1.1 has been updated to H2.0, get it? Get it?). And surprisingly enough you love it. You can’t imagine yourself being any other way.

My 2 yr old just had a phone conversation with another 2 yr old. THIS is the kinda stuff that I didn’t get earlier. WHAT was so exciting about hearing ‘a cow goes? Moooo, a cat goes? Meowwww’ was beyond 2008 me. But 2016 me finds this stuff ridiculously cute, ‘Did you hear how he said, tomatototo?... Hi Massi, he wanted to say hi to you so I called’. I was the kind of person who’d stress-text her sister in irritation mixed with panic when there were too many kids on a flight/train. And I am now the person who has fed her baby unabashedly throughout the flight to calm the baby, not to quiet the baby. Babies cry, deal with it.

I’d see a baby amidst a tantrum, crying loudly, stomping feet, tears flowing and snot visible and I’d empathize the troubled mom. Today I see such a scene and all I can think is that poor baby, at a confusing, overwhelming age. Li’l cute baby doesn’t know better, he/she will obviously feel lost in this big world.

2008 me will be in stunned silence over the disbelief of what’s become of me. I think she’ll be proud after the initial shock settles. And the 2016 me is just rolling in laughter at how bloody naive I was.