Monday, November 17, 2008

Off my chest

As a new mom...oh wait! Am I technically a 'new mom' when The Implet is already 10 months old? Whatever.

One of the worst aspect of being a new mom is fielding all those questions thrown at family, friends and random strangers who pop from the woodwork at every party/get-together.
And one of the irritating questions is about breastfeeding.

Conversation 1 with Random Stranger(Mom of toddler)
RS: How old is she?
Me: 9 months
RS: So you are breastfeeding her right?
Me (perplexed) : Yes.
RS: Aah! No wonder. Give me your chubby cheeks.

Conversation 2 with Friend after 2 years (Mom of toddler, mom2be of second child)
F: So how old is your daughter now?
Me: 10 months
F: Are you nursing her still?
Me :Yes. 
F: Oh really?. I stopped by 10 months. My doc said i should stop by 8 months.
Me: Good for you.

First, I can't understand how where my daughter puts her mouth is anybody's business but mine and hers. Second, as much as I am open to volunteering information to my good friends and family, I draw the line at 'breastfeeding' being the conversation starter with complete strangers.
Seriously, what the hell is wrong with a more generalised, "What does your baby eat now?" It gives me the opportunity to either open or close the door on my nursing expeditions.
(I still can't get over the fact that RSMom's first question after being introduced to me was on breastfeeding.)

To me breastfeeding is personal. It's not easy and I don't want to be judged as either a bad or good mom based on somebody else's parenting ideal. A mom who doesn't breastfeed is NOT a bad parent. And one who does until the kid is 2 ain't cuckoo either. It's their kid, their time and their decision. I am not in their house and they are not wearing my shoes.


Maybe I am making a mountain out of a molehill. But this whole Motherhood shebang is too darn tough I tell you. One moment you are all euphoric having been bestowed the cutest 4-teethed smile for a piece of wafer. Next moment you realise you've turned extremely sensitive, bordering on hallucinating that every person talking to you is judging you as a mom. 

I am irritated and downright angry that no one is around to talk about something completely inane as books or movies. I don't want to talk about The Implet simply because she is my everything. She is ALL I see, breathe and live every single day. And I don't want it any other way. Maybe it makes sense to you or maybe I'm just a crazy idiot.

Sometimes as I close my eyes during the wee hours of a new day, I silently pray I never think of Motherhood as only a synonym for sacrifice. Of all things held dear.

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Two weekends and Two books

This blog needs a revival. A re-birth of sorts, if you may. 
And now is the time to do it. As the blog turns 4.
Ever since The Implet jumped into my lap I've been short on time.
And patience, but we shall not get into that.
In those initial months while the Munchkin munched through my breasts, I lived on the 'little grey cells' of Hercule Poirot. Every single Christie that our local library possesed was re-visited and devoured. And when the sleep deprivation got to me, P.G.Wodehouse elevated my spirits. Apart from this couple, there were more.
 -- Interesting concept. Liked the story being told by an autistic boy. But not too thrilled by it. Felt it meandered a little towards the end.
 -- Read for the second time. Loved it as much as the last. So did The Mr which made it all the more enjoyable. [Any book that offers conversation fodder between me and The Mr earns brownie points]
 -- Khaled Hosseini impressed with his inimitable prose style. Heart wrenchingly sad and beautiful. Maybe not as crisp as The Kite Runner but since there were no child abuse I liked it a wee bit more.
 -- My first Rushdie and I liked this one. Wonderful Fantasy. One day when The Implet cannot escape my clutches I shall read this with her. Hopefully.
Unfortunately I don't remember the rest of the novels.
Anyhoo, that was then.
This is now.
After being out of touch with the blogging world and the literary world, I re-entered both by foraging for information on book blogs. Boy! Have I been living in a rat-hole or what?
There are too many book-bloggers out there but for now I've settled with my college junior who taught me to Waltz and Tango - Ramya and her Bookshelf.

 --Simple prose written in an engaging style. Loved it and finished it in one sitting last Sunday. [In my world, if I don't finish a book on weekends while The Mr and The Implet bond, I never will.] Coming back to the book, it is all about re-education during Mao's rule of China. The book has intrigued me enough to look for more China/Mao book on my next visit to the library.

 -- Absolutely loved it! It's set in Germany during the World War II and I've always been a sucker for stories about WW2. From the book's unusual narrator, to the setting, to the humour weaved into the pathos, everything about this book is beautiful. I picked it up last morning and couldn't put it down until I finished it this afternoon. Of course, The Implet hasn't been too happy about the book eating into her playtime with her amma and tried her best to tear it apart.

I put the book down at midnight and made my way upstairs to bed but in vain. Five minutes later I was back down, sitting on the steps and reading about the hidden Jew. And in my dark living room, Liesel Meminger came alive as she read slowly and softly to Max.  Powerful and lyrical prose!

That's all I have folks. 
Oh! I went and signed up for a Christmas Gift swap at this blog. It is for book bloggers. I shall claim I am a blogger who loves books and I qualify too :p 
See you all sooner than later :)

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Monday, November 03, 2008

And my non-existent vote goes to

  • He talks sense...a lot of it.
  • His speeches definitely fire it up :)
  • The most aesthetically pleasing reason when you look at the competition :p
Best of all, like he says, "I will never forget in no other country on Earth is my story even possible". How true. God bless America and everyone else too :)

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