This Mother's Day

I pledge to

• wake up with you at 7.30 A.M to answer the kukol's call...smiling!
  
• look at the food on the carpet and my clothes as food art and treasure them for your creativity.
  
• make chasing squirrels as higher priorty to folding laundry.
• sit with you to watch the moon rise and count the stars.
  
• count my blessings by the number of times you smile and not the things I have. Though an iphone wouldn't hurt, you know!
• read stories aloud to keep the monsters under the bed happy.
• not kiss away your pain but give you the strength to accept the disappointments.
• rejoice in your victories, even if it is as small as spelling your Amma's name right. We all know how difficult it can be!
• give you the freedom to grow wings and fly. And I promise to wait by the window with a cup of chocolate milk!
• be true to Kumari, even if most days she takes a backseat to being your mother.
  
• be happy being your mother. There's nothing else more exciting!

But most importantly, I pledge to be not just the 'Mommy' you love to hug but also the Amma I long to be!

* kukol - Maye's name for sparrows, ants, squirrels :)

what it is being twirled around the littlest pinky...

It's not easy going to bed at 12.30 A.M, waking up at 3 A.M to feed someone who just doesn't get it that she really does NOT need milk, trying to somehow get few more hours of shut-eye but still hearing the mumbled chatter from the other room and finally giving up the fight and just waking up...I don't know how I do it but most days I wonder why I do it...

• Every morning as soon as you wake up, you stand in your crib and call "Amma" loudly. And when I act deaf and don't get up, you switch to your soft voice and coo "Ammi, Ammi" wth your arm outstretched to reach me... could this be it?
  
• Nowadays when I come to pick you up, you smile ever so sweetly and say, "Amma Kaapi" and I see myself in you...maybe this?
• After months of feigning nonchalance to everything I try to teach you, you looked at your favourite Pluto, pulled his ears and said "Bluto". Oh! how I trilled for hours on the phone to everyone I knew...how about that?
•  The way you close my mouth when I sing you a lullaby and then continue humming 'Hot cross buns' or just coo 'lalalala' in your own tune...this should be it!
• How you run to the door every morning and stick your face to the glass pane as you watch your Appakins leave for work and then tell your grandparents on the phone, "Appa aapeas"...

I can go all day and still not have the best reason. And when I lie exhausted next to you after one of those middle-of-the-night meltdowns and you try to push me off the bed in your efforts to cuddle closer, all I can think of is the long sleepless night and your really stinky milky breath. But then you do something that completely takes me by surprise - you wrap one arm around my neck and smile. A smile I could die for...all while still asleep.

That I guess is why I want to do all of this. Again. Forever.

Save my heart! Save your sanity!

February is Heart Health month. Mr.Monk just told me. So I shall have a cathartic rant session with my blog and hope my heart gets back to feeling all rosy and robust soon.

• Being a good mother, not a great one, just a simple good mother is an extremely tortuous task. More so because you happen to be your worst critic.
  
• I hate the fact my friends/neighbours don't drop in for a cup of tea. It's always me who has to go and meet them unless I call them all for dinner/lunch. Not that I don't want to do it but I'm still trying to manage a toddler who thinks she is on wheels and running a smooth family. I guess I am looking for re-assurance that I can be a mother and entertain friends albeit in a small way.
• I hate it even more that when no one has heard from me in weeks/months it is still upto me to call and update everyone on my life or lack thereof. [Everyone who calls me might feel that way but unless they all start a blog and post so, this shall be the universal truth.]
• Why is it so hard for people to understand that I do not want parenting advice? I carried her for 10 months and 5 days and went through a 55 hour labour to bring her out safe. I think I can manage now. Suggestions are a lot subtler.
• The next person I meet for the first time at a social gathering whose opening line is, "So was yours Cesarean or 'normal' delivery?" will be answered with the equally important query, "So was the sex last night reverse cow-girl or just 'normal' missionary style?" Seriously! Unless we are random strangers sharing a compartment in Southern Railways trying to get through the journey with the secret knowledge we will never meet come morning, I shall not talk about birth stories or my innermost fears at our first meeting. And Cesarean is also frigging NORMAL! I didn't deliver her through my mouth.
• Just because I am a stay-at-home mom doesn't mean I am not stressed. I feel it is too much to expect me to be understanding ALL the time of a working woman/man's stress. Try to differentiate one 'Amma'( I want biscuit) from the next 'Amma' (I need new diaper) to the very next 'Amma'( I just called chumma) and still wake up smiling for the 12 midnight 'Amma'.
• I love you all - my family, my friends, my support group - but at times you all get on my nerves...just like I rub you all on the wrong side any given Sunday! 

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 you...by 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.

Sigh.

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.