If we were having coffee together we’d be marvelling at how we were already in the 9th month of the year. The year seems to have sprinted past, I’d observe. And you’d laugh and tell me I say that about every year.
Which is true. The years seem to be rushing past. Somedays I still cannot wrap my head around the fact that the children are in college.
If we were having coffee together
I’d tell you how last month was crazier than the craziest. H had to leave for college on a mere two-day notice. Good thing he had been preparing (=shopping) over the last few months. With the Husband unwell at home, I went with H to help him settle down at college.
I’d tell you how I put on my I-can-handle-anything face but was a quivering mass of nerves at the thought of him managing on his own. H, on the other hand was his nonchalant happy-go-lucky self. And I cannot tell you how immensely reassuring that was (after I stopped being annoyed). What’s better, one of his childhood buddies was already at the same college and H treated his move like one big long sleepover. A month later he continues to do so.
If we were having coffee together
I’d tell you how we all mopped around for bit. The Husband had to travel, so it was just N and I; having her is a huge comfort. I don’t know what I would have done without her.
Moving on to happier things, this month I completed 18 years of blogging. It’s one of the few things in life I have been consistent with, and I use the word ‘consistent’ very loosely here :-).
If we were having coffee together
I’d tell you that occasion prompted me to read through the blog archives. Many of the posts made me laugh and some made me feel how unnecessarily worried I had been. The most incongruous of them all was one I had done when the children were 1.5 years old (Nov 2007). It’s a short one and I sound utterly disappointed with myself. I had lamented how I was failing at raising well-mannered children. Really? I wanted to ask my old self, which child is well-behaved at 1.5 years?
Even as I laugh at myself, I cannot but feel sorry for the harried mom I was back then.
If we were having coffee together
I’d tell you how I wanted to reach out to all new moms and tell them not to be hard on themselves; to not feel guilty over every delayed milestone, every small problem in their children’s lives. If one persists with love and understanding (supported with a healthy dose of threats and bribes), children are more than likely to turn out fine.
I too shall keep that in mind when I am faced with teen troubles knowing that, just like the toddler phase, this too shall pass and the children will come out on the other side of it as well-balanced adults. Fingers crossed.
If we were having coffee together
I’d send out a big thank you to all of you who have been with me through the years. You have been good friends and saved me lots of money in therapy.
So tell me dear friend how long have you been in the blogosphere? As a blogger or even as a reader. Do you make time to read your old posts? If there’s one you’d want to reshare (it doesn’t necessarily have to be your own) I’d love to read it. Leave the link in the comments and I’ll drop by.
Au revoir then, till we meet again over cups of coffee.
18 years, Tulika! Wow! It feels like I’ve known you for longer though 🙂
It is endearing to see how you and N are spending time together now.
Soumya recently put up this amazing post…The Key Within
It feels like we’ve known each other forever. And for that I shall always be grateful. This has been my happy space thanks to friends like you Soumya.
Like always, I enjoyed reading this post. I love ‘If We Were Having Coffee’ posts. In fact, I learnt about this style of writing from you (and Nabanita).
I started blogging in 2010. I don’t remember when I first visited your blogs, but it’s been a long time.
Interestingly, my latest blog post is also an ‘If We Were Having Tea…’
Tarang recently put up this amazing post…If We Were Having Tea: Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay
I love these posts too because they allow me to just talk. I’ll always happy to see a comment from you because it feels like you always speak from the heart. Your post sounds intriguing. Will drop by for sure.
Congratulations on 18 years. Amazing milestone. I complete 16 years this year. I sometimes cringe at my old posts… but I also miss that energy of a 20 year old. It showed in my posts.
Also true, what 1.5 year old is well mannered. We, moms, need to be kind to ourselves.
Rajlakshmi recently put up this amazing post…Chronicles of creaking bones – oohs, aahs and uffs of life in late 30s
Woohooo 16 years! I often feel like a grandmom in the blogging world, you know the kind that shake their heads and say, humare zamane mein blogging kuchh aur hi thi :-).
It’s been good having you around.
You’re right, Tulika, we moms do worry too much. But what else can we do when we’re held responsible for everything our children do—or don’t do? Just the other day, I was talking to my sister-in-law, who was feeling guilty that her three-and-a-half-year-old twin boys were delayed in talking because she went back to work after they turned two. She’s quit her job now. Some relatives even pointed out that the boys would be talking much better if she hadn’t been busy with her work. No one ever says this to dads. How utterly ridiculous! It’s no wonder we worry about every little thing.
Anyway!
Congratulations on your blogging milestone—18 years is huge! I completed 10 years of official blogging this June, though technically, my blog is going to hit its Sweet 16 this month.
In my heart, I’m still a 10-year-old girl wondering what it feels like to turn 11. Oh well, time plays tricks on us, doesn’t it?
Your coffee post set me off on an endless rant, but thank you for blogging all these years and sharing your thoughts. It’s always wonderful to read your posts, Tulika.
Uff I hate the senseless pressure people put on new moms. As it is they carry so much guilt over every little thing, criticism can drive them over the edge.
Thank you for your good wishes, it’s as if our blogs are growing old(er) together. That’s a nice feeling.