Sunday, 8 March 2015

Of dimpled knuckles and watery eyes

Those watery eyes stare, between those suckles,
I notice your dainty, dimpled knuckles;
Those puffed cheeks, that folded knee,
Did I create those? Did I nourish those within me?

That silky hair atop your head, moves to and fro as you feed;
Held in close embrace; I realise, it is me who has the greater need.

The need to feel secure, to slow down,
The need to cheer up, to ease that frown.
To anchor, to unwind,
To breathe... And rewind.

What was life like before you? Was it wholesome, purposeful, refreshing and new?
Ah, non! I laugh, it wasn't, couldn't be!
Not without you, to complete me!

It's me who's vulnerable, not you
It's me who is insecure, not you
It's me who needs you to grow;

It's you, you've turned me inside out,
Brought out, the mother in me!

Sunday, 18 January 2015

Good job mommy, or so I thought!- the great Mommy guilt rant

I just patted myself on my back for a passing thought that I could manage everything well- just like those happy mothers in ad films who have spic and span homes, clean clothes on kids and great hair days.

But it was just that. A passing thought. There is an unwritten rule in this world that when you feel you've got everything sorted out, life punches you on the face!

The past month has been somewhat draining for us.

After all the hullabaloo surrounding the fishy babies, we lost them. All of them with the parents. The parents(who I suspect were old) went first and then, slowly the babies, as some other dastardly fish in the tank decided to turn carnivorous. I knew I should have put them in a separate tank, but it's impossible having a curious toddler around. Ouch!

Kavin isn't affected much. He understands food chainism better than me. Guilt descends on a mommy so easily.

The husband comes home from all long travel trip with a sprained wrist- ouch! I should've sent that sprain ointment.

The great viral flu is in the air and its attacking anyone who opens the window for a fresh breath of air. Kavin brings it from school: one sick child-Ouch! manageable. Passes on to me- Ouch!Manageable.

Passes it to Naitik- Ouch! Ouch! When your few months old baby looks at you with red watery eyes, barks like a seal and smiles a little less, your heart bleeds. Did I not dress them warmly? Oh, I should've not taken him to the mall!

And then your paediatrician decides to take a long holiday. Then you think you've been a good mommy taking good care as you've been sponging him instead of bathing, he catches a skin infection. Pow! And another doctor calls you a bad mother. The final straw.

School open day- the teacher usually who raves about your child being bright and sprightly, clucks and shakes her head while remarking that your boy is not himself lately and is showing signs of being a bully. Guilt again. Is he being ignored? Am I not giving him the bigger slice of attention? I thought I was.

Who grades motherhood? How is it measured?Why is she allowed to feel so guilty so often? Who is allowed to label her?

Is it that doctor, who judges you by your child's skin infection? Or that Playschool teacher who says that your kid may be on the way to bullydom?

Why do we feel so guilty when we learn a little late that the chutney we put in the sons lunch box was a little rancid? Why isn't all we do never feel enough?

Is there any breastfeed friendly vodka shot to drive these mommy rants away? Coz I need one right now!

Motherhood pressures still sinking in-that's what's happening. Oh, leave it- I'm just in the middle of a big mommy rant.

Now, that felt better!

But we mommies also learn, forget and heal ourselves with our kids don't we?

Hmmm... The platy fish has a newborn which we've managed to save.