I miss you Ma.

and I never told you this and I needn’t tell you this ever because you already know this.

She is a Super-Woman or an analogy closer home – The Durga Mata. I guess every mother is, mine isn’t any different.

And it hugely annoys me that she can’t leave that stupid home of hers and come live with me for an infinite time.

That she is not here with me when I come back home with a refreshing glass of Nimbo Pani/cold drink on hot days.

Or listen to how my day had been.

Or waiting to have a meal with all of us.

That she isn’t here to mend my dress or fix my cold.

Just like she was during my school days.
I left home when I was 17 or 18esh.. for further studies. Meh! And then I wasn’t back living with her ever…. I completed my studies, met my husband, got married, visited home once or twice a year. And that’s how it has been since.

So literally, I have been missing her since I was 17.

I tell my husband, I was just bored with living out of the hostel, being a paying-guest, being with room-mates, the nomadic life of living away from home, that I agreed to marry him. I needed a home of my own. If I were living with my Ma, my story would probably have been different. His reply “kidnap kar leta tujhko ūüėČ

That is utterly romantic ‚̧ . So I know I was destine to marry him, to have a life that I have now. I married the right guy.

But that doesn’t stop me from imagining.

I imagine a different course of my existence. A parallel universe. One where I never left home, where am married closer home, where am with Ma for every festival, every small occasion, every birthday and anniversary. Where I don’t have to plan my vacation months in advance, book flight tickets. I imagine just booking a cab/ or driving to her home. I imagine picking up my bag and heading home, I imagine exchanging Meklahe Sadar with her, gossiping, cooking meals together.

None of which I can ever do in this lifetime.

All of which my sister is lucky to get with her.

Damn! That makes me jealous some days….

But why don’t I ?

I remember a conversation with Papa when he said, why can’t I do all that and more? Why can’t I just pick up my bag, book a flight and come home? Isn’t that the reason why I left home in the first place? So I could be independent and follow what I really desire.

Am blabbing. No one will probably get this. I don’t get this. Why can’t I do that? Why am I pissed on the days that remind me of her? (Am pretty sure this is as my sis is visiting her for a month long vacation and am sweating out here).

Everyone leaves home for a better life. I have a better life. Am not the first person to do so. I have no reason for not just booking up the flight and reaching Ma. I don’t know why can’t I manage that now?

Today is Mother’s day and am surrounded by the content this day has generated on every feed, chat, every social media. Do we need a special day for Mother?

No, A Mother is special every-day.

Yes, because I never told her how awesome she has been, how much she had worked all her prime and how much she needs to think about herself now.

Even so, I don’t want her to think of herself. I want her to be my side. Living in the same city that I am. Not this far.

Now, We They , my parents have a wonderful house at Assam. It is my parent’s blood and sweat. Their dream home and they moved into that place after my father’s retirement, which was much later after my wedding.

I live so far from her, that I no more dump my sob story on her, I feel a bit protective of her. Shielding her from my downs. I guess living on my own since 17 has made me as independent as my parents wanted.

Now that am a mother, I know I will always be there for my son. I don’t believe in long distance love ūüėČ he will have a hard time moving away from my nest.

But then he is a boy. A girl pines for her parent and a boy, well just don’t care. Sorry Boys ūüėČ

I called Ma today and she was utterly busy with my sister and her twins. She was worried about my brother and she was going to cook dinner, fixing yard with Pa as a storm is approaching.

Day as usual for her.

Happy Mother’s Day Ma. I miss you.

Here is a Mother’s Day special from my 6-year-old boy. Aah.. he will never know the joy of leaving home. Literally ūüėČ

Son: “Ma, What does comes first..the wedding or the kid?”

And my toughened Indian middle-class upbringing screams:
“Wedding son, definitely wedding! “

#HappyMothersDay

Me: Adi, Don’t talk on the table. Nadi ho jao (Quite like a river)

He is my insane little chatterer and sometimes I wanna cap it! Just shut up boy!

Adi : Okay.

Quack, Quack, Quack, Quack!

Me: What now?

Adi : Mummy river has ducks!
And I give up!

Am still his favourite, despite everything.

Am a strict mother these days. Most days, am not. Meeting the supply with the demand. My son has his first first-grade school assessment coming up next week tomorrow. Maths. English, English dictation and Environment Science. But he is not showing any interest in preparing himself to be assessed. I really envy mother who has THE kid, natural in studies. (Are you reading this neighbour?)

On most of the days, I have no patience with a first-grade kid. I do not sit with him for his school work. That is the only job for my better half. He is a master. I do feel, Husband is disposable when he is around the house.¬† But clearly, I need him when there is an assessment next week… Get your butt here soon!¬† Puff! But he isn’t here this week.

So there I was, on the last weekend. Sitting along with my son, with practice sheets and prayers to God “Please give me the strength to make it alive till the end of this¬†hour¬†these 10 minutes and not strangle him.” Every 10 minutes, I remind myself. He is my only son. Be a saint, DO NOT kill.¬†

He clearly wants to escape.¬† Actually me too. Both of us. But Life is cruel. Doesn’t give us what we want. I hope he understood that last weekend.

Do not judge me. Before you imagine me as a  fat-rat matron holding a stick, wearing a printed knee-length frock and thick-framed black spectacles conducting a reign of terror, try spending 10 minutes with a boy who is more interested in super-hero than vowels of English.

10 minutes. Only. With a six-year-old who imagines wand in a pencil, the erasure as a transformer disguised and living among us in plain sight, who have to pee because I asked him the spelling of piled.  What?! pencil is to write notes? I thought it is a magic wand with the black core from kryptonite!

Don’t blame him though.¬† English is a weird language.

For instance,¬† Why the hell Silent letter? Silent K in Knew.¬† And wait, this gets better on the Island. There! A letter, an alphabet sitting right there, not making any sound. Just being there. Silently. The same S when added to “ex” becomes one hot cake bun.¬† Or , Don’t get me even started about Queue. That is just one letter Q. What are the others doing there? Did the person doze off with one hand on u, other on e?

So now I have to know why K is silent in Knew but not Clock.

Me: “Listen to the sound Adi, K, clock ends with K.”

Son: But Mummy ..K is silent. 

Oh Boy! Not in every word honey. That will be like a totally deaf alphabet. No sound.

Imagine how many zillions of space, wordpress would have saved, if it weren’t for these notorious silent letters. They exist but only in bytes. Taking up space but producing no sound.

That was English. Maths seems like a good boy. I mean, the subject is all logical, Right? Wrong. What the hell number-names doing here….legacy of English gf?. I mean who writes forty, repeat. forty and not 40 these days?

Meh! On the cheque lady? Hmm. Okay. But still. All the number names, just teach so he can write me a thousand dollar cheque every month. I only need that much. Teach him that. Did you notice the silent “ue” in there, with that condescending mind..won’t make a noise, these aren’t worth our talk.

So that was my Sunday.

At the end of the day, It was time for bed. The teacher was out of my system and mother was in, the guilty mother who punished her child and raised voice a bit longer than desired. He was almost asleep. Eyes closed and heavy breathing.

I said ” Adi, Maine aaj aap pe bahut gussa hui na ? Was I too angry at you today?”

Barely had these words left me and could reach my son sleeping next, I heard him reply. Yes. I signed. This is gonna be tough. All I wanted to tell him how much I love him and how important is reading, writing and learning and other parenting stuff.. yada yada yada blablabla.

Me: “But, You know that I love you no bounds. Right?”

No answer.

Who is my favourite boy in the whole world?

He raised his head enough to show me his smile: Me!

Him again barely 2 secs later.Or may be less than a sec: And you are my favourite person Mummy!

‚̧¬†¬†

My heart just melted. And I relaxed. probably the first time on that hard day.

The best part of being Ma is the love I get from my little man, No matter, how much I keep him away from his playtime and his super-hero, in the end, am forgiven and loved again.¬†Any adult would have labelled me lunatic for life, but for my son, Am still his favourite ‚̧

 

 

 

Dinner conversation with son

Son : Am the King…

Me : Aha.. So who is your Queen… (Son looks lost ) She could be any girl whom you like the most..like your favorite. Could be from your school, day care or our apartment..

Son : Okay…I choose you to be my queen.

Me : Naaah.. She has to be your age…like how your Papa and I could be King and Queen. Tell me who is your favorite girl…

Son : Okay..Aarna… She can be my queen.

Thinks for a while..

No..Arey..You be my Queen. What would Aarna know about being Queen? Am the King and you are my favourite girl.

Me : I love this little King.

I hope he never grows up and am always his favourite person. ūüíó

A compliment is a compliment

..no matter who, how, when and what the exact words are…

Son never ever wants his father to wash his bum after potty. Yes, wash bum, we Indians, I have to say proudly, wash our bum with water after the poo. Wiping is not our way. A wipe will never do for us. Nope sir, no, nahi, Wipe? I mean, I cannot fathom how does that is called a clean bum.

Nevermind, don’t tell me.

How is all this related to a compliment?

Patience is a virtue and am getting there. Read on. I have a feeble mind, get’s high with just any good words coming my way.

Son always wants me during his potty time. It’s a sort of compliment for a mother but not for this post.

Yesterday, as usual, he was busy prattling when sitting on the commode, I asked why he won’t let his papa wash his bum, why only me?

Because, mummy, you are thin and slim like my POTTY. 

And, here comes the blush!

Wait, he compared me to potty? Ewwwww! Yuk!

Hey, wait, he said – thin and slim. Lemme highlight that – thin and slim.

That’s my boy! I can wash his bum forever, and ever, and ever.

 

Yes son , you are so yummy , I ate you!

 

14th August,2012

I saw him first , 4 years ago. My first feeling ¬†“Why is he so tiny? Doc said he will be above 3 kilos. Look at his nose , his eyes , he looks like my papa!” and I was hooked.

Ever since then, I haven’t stopped loving him , falling head over heels with this little man every single day. The kind of love I have for him , actually surprise me. That am capable of loving someone so much. And the best part is¬†I get love in return,so much more than I could imagine. The little man loves me , adores me , lights me up with his voice. He does everything right , at least to me. Believe it or not , a mother¬†can feel , actually literally feel her child’s physical pain. I did for , possibly first two years. And stopped only after he started faking his pain to¬†mess with me , or to get attention ,or just to be naughty.

Every year , I tell myself “Oh this is the best phase, I wish he would never grow out of this (phase). ” And he amazes me with his next milestone.

Yesterday, a day before he turned 4 , he finished his rice plate himself, on his own . The waiter at biryani house gave him a plate ,a little spoon and he started eating himself. Before I could help , which I do usually, my husband shushed me and I watched him use a spoon and eat rice-biryani , from the corner of my eyes , heart thumping in excitement (I swear these motherly hormones behave crazily stupid someday , what is so exciting ? he is only eating rice with spoon???!) . Well , that was just once but it is a start.

We celebrated his 4th birthday today ,on 14th Aug , aka the day I meant to publish this post. Happy Birthday, Son <3. I will always love you. I cannot help , but love you all my life.

His take on turning 4 ” So am I as big as papa now?

So , now to come back to the title of this post. 

Me: Happy Birthday Adi , wow you are a big 4-year old now!

Adi : Why ?

Really ?! “why” that is the response..? The perpetual stream of “Why” ¬†from kid these days!.¬†

Me : Because , 4 years ago, you were born from my tummy son.

Adi :  Kyoun ? Aap mujhe kha gaye the kya mummy? Mummy , Did you eat me up ?

Ahem , ahem, So how he ended up in my tummy at first place! Good question.

Me (Hugging him tightly) : Yes , You are very very yummy Adi , so I ate you ūüôā , And now am gonna eat you again ……..

2016-08-16 12.57.54
He refuses to pose for the camera ¬†, this pic was taken a few months ago and the best one I have. Believe it or not , he is the love of my life and I don’t¬†even have a proper pic to share.

And then I became a mother …..!

Ummm, Why is it green in color ? Oh yes , it has Green Palak.¬†The consistency looks good , not too watery or hard solid.¬†The smell , hmm was good then, but now …

Could you guess the dish am inspecting …¬†Palak panner or Green Thai curry ?

Palak paneer , ofcourse . Nothing beats an indian dish.

But.

After it has come to the end of it’s journey ,which is out of my son’s bum with rest of his potty.

Am happily inspecting his poop.

Head : ewww , yukky …potty from bum?

Yes, he says ¬†“Potty comes out of bum” , I think its cute , so wont correct him ever!

So, How did this poop inspection began?

I sometimes look at my poop to see how does a healthy poop looks like ,¬†I look closely at his red color poop to see if its beetroot red or blood red .. or worst I might even someday be tempted…

Head : Stop ! I think you have made your point waaaaaaaay too clear about poop inspection!

I can never get tired of looking at it, inspecting it , Not until the day he is old enough to shut me out from poop inspection.

OMG! What have I become ??! 

Once upon a time!

Once upon a time , life was good ,mind and body balance. I had perfect set of hormones .

Head :C’on …Why blames hormones for this ?

Well, what else can explain how I , from a happy , normal person turned into this crazy , lame guilty mother.
Hormones , am sure of it ! plenty of it!

Head : Aha , Who was crying , whining for “I want a baby!”

That’s the first hormone , which pumps out saying “Lets have a baby!”. Now why can’t baby making be a simple procedure of “pressing a button” instead of drilling , leaking and aah , the pain !

Head: WHAT, pressing a button ?! Are you sure …

* louder* ¬†Can you not imagine if it was just a button ? ¬†WOMAN¬†! DO YOU NOT LIVE IN INDIA??? Don’t you have enough¬†neighbor?

Alright , ummm… take a notch down ..Lets not get into detail, shall we..?

ma and you
This is the baby , now 3 years old .. I was whining for ‚̧

Anyways,

Bringing up a child, will completely change you , in every sense. You, your home and your life roadmap. Perhaps it’s result from the metathesis of hormones¬†that a mother¬†could do things never imagined capable of ……She¬†will have all the patience of galaxy loaded with all the guilt of milky way….am never doing enough.
I should have finished this early and go home to co-conspirator and his cute son!

Head : So , husband is conspirator ¬†?¬†What did he do ? You were the one crying….
Of course , husband is responsible for getting me into this , for supporting me in everything .. in sun or rain , drilling and pain!
Why didn’t he tell me that I would change so much that my lungs will pump blood !

Head : The word is oxygen sweetie , Your lung cannot pump blood.
Just raise a child and well , lung will be so busy pumping , that it doesn’t matter what the hell is being pumped – just pump oxygen or blood.. Heart is over-whelmed , nervous , confused and hyperventilating from all cuteness and responsibility¬†around .. that it can’t pump enough.

Change is inevitable and motherhood is a crazy change in lifestyle.

Before you realize , you are anticipating his poop to be of perfect size consistency , more than what you expect your new blouse to fit in.

Head : poop again! , snap out of it ,will you ?

Okay. Point noted. No more poop talk.

Can we talk about fart ?

Adi, my son is a parrot , repeats after me all the time , so no cuss words and can’t even call stupidest things stupid in front of him. But one thing I learned hard way- Do NOT¬†ever ever ever do what you don’t want him to do in public.

For instance….

Don’t pick your nose , that’s gross. ultra gross.

And

Don’t fart …..Pleassse.

Head : Weren’t¬†you the one who taught him BOTH at the first place???

well, Of course he learned it all eventually, from the only one time I tried to pick his nose ..

In my defense , I was cleaning his running nose before going to bed so he can sleep better and his fingers are more suited than mine .. Believe me, I have balloon fingers and am lazy to get up for hanky!

Head : WTH! You practically led his hands into nose and showed him to pick the .. and were even proud about it!

Hell Yes! I have tried to teach him many other things approved by civilized society , but he never ever learns those in one shot. This ..nose picking. How the hell would I know that he will master it in one night ?

So that’s the thing , when I least want¬†son to notice , he will put all his focus in¬†that and sometimes even when am blowing drum in front of him ,would ignore.¬†Hide something I¬†wish Adi never ever finds out and he gets it the next minute.You think you were discreet enough , fast like bolt? Too late , he saw it already it, labelled it as “Mummy doesn’t want me to see” and added it to must-be-good check-it-out list.

Head : and¬†what about¬†farting ….

What about it ? C’on¬†that’s human ,¬†At least , I taught him to say Sorry! He farts , we laugh , giggle and say out loud Sorrrrrrrryyyyy ! That counts as bonding time between mother and son?
In my defense ,this I believe must be those uncivilized hormones talking which were suppressed since beginning of no-fart-in-public civilization!

What else ?

I can easily sustain prolong exposure to insanity , doing the same thing over and over again without flinching.
Adi : Mummy , This is your green car , this is my red car.Lets race !

After 30 minutes:

Adi: Mummy * utho na, wake up * This is your green car , this is my red car.Lets race !

I could do things without actually doing it , at least I didn’t realize my hands are racing again with green car.. I stopped noticing ..It is a routine hands know very well , why do I need to focus my head there ..

carslinedup
Boy in action!

OMG , am I a zombie now?

I can play car race , howl like wolf , roar like lions and be a big bad dino for an hour straight without even noticing that am actually a human.
I have lost so many races,fights to him that now I can win race for slowest contender! I earn his laughter.
Everything in my head begins with “Start your engine” and ends with ” Yay!Adi first !”.

Need for speed , Turbo , Bolt Lighting Mc Queen .. definitely triggers something in me when am on my red swish scooter , managing a speed of just 40 miles and I accelerate.. think speed , think 238 miles or worst think crash!

My cars want bed
He wanted his cars on bed with him, so made this pillow garage on bed! We removed it in night and first thing he notice waking up is “Mere car kidhar hai” …Where is my car,bus…

Adi is a typical 3 year old boy , In love with car , bike , trucks , animals …big animals, Dino ! If he were a girl, I guess I would be playing dolls for an hour straight ..¬†umm…., that would have been nice . at least its just sitting at one place not crashing , running around.

Head : Do you want another …..bwwwaah ..second could be a girl.

I will ignore that comment from head.. He shuts down when all game begins..sees no use in doing routine, feels no pain.

Head : He ??! louder Why am I male ? am your head, inside you on top floor woman ! picture me as super hot sexy model , female !

Ignore that one too , how can my head ALONE be super sexy when the rest after child delivery could not go back to its glorious days of size S.

Ignoring and moving ahead ..

Am hypnotized by my 3 year old son…

I love his voice , he has cutest voice of a 3 year old. But nobody was there to tell me this .. I suffered , am still suffering.
Do not, I repeat Do NOT go by the voice , listen to what he is saying..try avoid to look into eyes.. The cuteness is a way of hypnotize mother!! I know , I am.. am completely mesmerized when he asks he something with those eyes and that voice , and I turn stupid ..

In my experience, these are the 2 words  to look out for warning signals..

  1. Baad main = Later.

This is even more powerful than legendary “No” . He isn’t refusing to do , he is simply delaying… and that later never comes!
Me : Adi , Its time for homework.
Adi : Mummy baad mein

Me : Adi , dinner time.
Adi : baad mein , now playtime.

  1. “Last one”

He is not asking for more , he is only asking for the last one..
Adi : Mummy I want chocolate.
Me : Adi , you just had one before meal.
Adi : Mummy , one last . Just last one…

Now when he says this , my heart is overloaded and lungs start pumping.
Head : hmm and you oblige by giving him last chocolate the nth time..?

In my defence , am hypnotised by his voice , by his eyes , by his demand! Just because he is such a darling ‚̧ and am such lame ūüė¶

I wonder if he will ever use these words in right way ever?

Me : Adi , Do you want chocolate?
Adi : No Mummy baad mein…

I often wonder , discuss it with husband .. Does he know the effect of his cuteness on me ? What should I name this one hormone?

Head : i-am-moron hormone ??? 

Excitement

As a mother , the one compliant which is omnipresent – My son isn’t eating enough. Am not just saying .. I know for fact.. he doesn’t.¬†Food is not important in life of a 3 year old. What can you do?

Something which sometimes work .. is fake it , you show you love it , he will follow the suit! My kid love all pomp pomp , announcement and declaration of love!

So food is not just food , but with a 100 watts excitement , “wow, aaj ka nashta pasta“. Pasta got his attention , at least I will have successful breakfast!
You can find me like a jumping fox with a plate of just plain rice and dal. Every meal should be a discovery , exciting , else son has no interest in what otherwise is very important for living , next only to breathing..

One of these days I forget “not” to be excited and
Me : Sweetie , * with 100 volts excitement and all white* Your¬†favorite¬†breakfast –¬†Poha and chai!
Husband : Sweetie , Its the same old dish my mother made and her mother before that and ..perhaps goes back to the time of Adam Eve! Whats so exciting??

Am lame , but at least am excited about being lame ūüėČ

Well , there are some good things too ..

My general knowledge has increased two folds , I know all kinds of truck types and cars…¬†I know 5 wild animals and 5 domestic animals , know all the good habits. Do you know all the poems in the world , one where humpty fell down , or bus goes around or clap clap clap ?

I can sleep with eyes open , when it’s my nap time and his play time !
Now I now … know-thee-all hormone.

There is always a trick up his sleeve..put him in any place , he is never bored , will find something amusing.
He will do things with perfection – open the jar , take a chocolate and close it tight. My usual steps are – Open the jar , take a chocolate and full stop.
Just when I realize that my son could play independently and I could do other things , comes the phase of Q&A’s – Why series…

Adi : Mummy what are you doing ?
Me : cleaning the floor.
Adi : Why are you cleaning the floor?
Me : because its dirty.
Adi : Why is it dirty ?
Me : coz I spilled water.
Adi : Why did you spill water?
Me : I wasnt looking straight and the glass of water fell….. * Here I restrain myself from using any cuss words
Adi: Why were you not looking straight.
Me : Because I was looking at TV.
Adi :Why were….
Me :Sending SOS signals to husband* Sweetie .. help me!

Sometimes I wonder if he even interested in my answers , or just picks up words , add a What or why and create the next question.
some days¬†its “what will happen” series – Mummy what will happen if I eat chocolate , if I don’t bath , If I throw …

My housemaid is starting to avoid my son when he gets into Q&A mode…I cant do that..Can I ?

My perspective changed, am not the same …

Now an ant , isn’t just an ant doing the hard work and let it do the hard work. Smash! It’s a bloody ant , can bite Adi and must be killed!
I can laugh over silly things , coz his laugh is infectious , it spreads even when he isn’t around. Be excited about stupid things.¬†A dog isn’t just a dog but “Mummy Cute dog na”? Everything is cute in his world.

Love hormone

Now this is the deadliest one , coz this will makes my son look like the cutest smartest , handsome with a million dollar smile , twinkle in eye 3-year-old boy living on planet earth. And when love hormone is released ,he can absolutely demand and say anything and I will oblige.


Head : This is happening way too frequently these days .. control your senses. How can you give him chocolate when he hasn’t finished his homework.
Did you see his eyes when he was asking for chocolates ? Do you know how much he makes me happy just being him .. jumping , screaming , running , smiling ..laughing and asking for chocolate?
My son will have chocolate !

And with that all the hormones are released in my body!