Author: Tulika

Posted on

Why do I call myself ‘obsessive mom’

This is in response to a query in the comments section — Why do I call myself ‘Obsessive mom’.
And with that a can of worms has been opened!
The name is based on honest self-evaluation — I turned into one. In my defense I would like to explain how/why I became one while hoping I won’t remain one forever.
Tough beginnings
I had a tough pregnancy. I won’t bother you with gory details. Let’s just say that becoming a mom when you’re well in your thirties in age and well in your seventies in weight, is never easy. Add to that the fact that you are carrying twins and the odds are stacked against you… heavily.
That’s when the obsession started. I ate, napped, walked and took my medicines (including giving myself an injection every day) with the single thought of keeping my babies safe and healthy.
When they came
Once they were born at 1.9 kgs and 1.4 kgs, the obsession grew.
  • I obsessed about their intake of milk, counting ounces like Shylock counted his gold.
  • I obsessed about the ‘outflow’ making five-strike statistic stacks to keep track of the poos and the pees.
  • I guarded them with an eagle eye. If someone as much as tried to touch them I freake — ‘wash your hands’ I’d bellow, the ‘please’ lost somewhere in my anxiety.
  • I was up most nights burping them after the doc mentioned a baby dying because he wasn’t burped properly. (Much later I found out sometimes they just don’t burp.)
  • I monitored their sleep, eat, play routine like an army sergeant. Still do. (Why don’t they hate me?)
  • I made copious notes on ‘things to ask the doctor’ at the next appointment.
  • Once H slept too much, I went to the doc.
  • N didn’t do the big job for two days, I went to the doc
  • H went on and on having milk, I went to the doc.
The endless queries
This is embarrassing, but I’m in the confessional
And later, now, a thousand worries still.
Coughs, sneezes, running nose, wheezes — off to the ped
H didn’t start walking till he was almost 1. Should I consult a physio, I asked my ped? She laughed at me.
When there were fights in the playground, I went to the counselor.
At four plus H still has some speech unclarity (a little lisp), I’ve been considering a speech therapist.
However it’s not all worry and trouble
  • I do love being a stay at home mom (at least most times)
  • I love giving them a bath even now despite doing it everyday for four plus years.
  • I love choosing what they’ll wear, though they’re taking away that pleasure from me.
  • I love waving ‘bye’ to them after they board their school bus.
  • And I love being there to hold their hands as they get off in the afternoon.
  • I truly enjoy their school stories.
  • I love cooking for them, even though I’m cooking challenged.
You get the idea, I suppose
As a result…
  • I became a pariah among family and friends because I had time for nothing and no one.
  • I gave up the love of my life Shah Rukh Khan, no films other than MNIK in the theatre since they were born.
  • I have always loved shopping and now I find myself spending endless hours in the kids’ section. Thanks to my mom/sister I’m still clothed.
  • My monthly visits to the parlour have come down to a quarterly ceremony.
  • I gave up the gym and touched 80 kgs, this time without carrying any kids.
Don’t think I didn’t evaluate myself. I did. Check that post here .
Afterword
Most of this is normal new-mom behaviour.. I was perhaps marginally worse because I had two of them together and little support.
I am happy to add that as the kids grow I’m slowly getting over the obsessive disorder.
I go to the gym. My weight is down by 6 kgs.
I have started writing, (posts gone up from 5 in 2006 to 84 already in 2010).
I actually got a story published and made some money after five whole years (Yay! Though the cheque is still awaited).
I won the ‘Sporting memories’ contest on Blogadda which had absolutely nothing to do with kids… double yay.
In another few years I might look at rechristening the blog. What say?
Posted on

She’s special

Dear N,

I’ve written to your brother earlier but never thought of writing to you. You seem so self sufficient, so self assured, so responsible and grown up already that I never thought you needed advice. But I’m a mama you see, and offering advice is second nature to our tribe so bear with me.. this time and all other times as you grow up.

Do you know it was papa who picked your name for you? Among other things it means ‘someone special’. And you really are. Of course you are special to mama and papa, all children are.. but you are special in a very SPECIAL way.
I don’t think you need me to tell you that, you hear it all the time. You may not be the prettiest girl around nor the most talented.. yet there’s something about you. Your teachers, your friends, their moms, the didi’s and the dadis of the society, the watchmen, the uncles and the aunties.. and sometimes even total strangers on the road seem to have something to say to you. I love it that you’re secure in the knowledge that you are everyone’s favourite.
However along with all this affection comes responsibility. People expect much much more from you. Have you noticed? If a child is feeling left out or alone it’s you his/her mother calls for help? And to your credit you ALWAYS listen and run to help and include the loner. If you happen to get into a disagreement it’s you who are asked to ‘understand’ and back out. It’s a tough deal but you handle it with aplomb. I am so proud.
Oh you’re a smart girl, I know, but sometimes mama-wisdom can help so here goes.
Be your own person.. don’t try to please everyone. It’s impossible to do that, not to say exceedingly exhausting. Trust your mama on this one baby, she’s been there. Don’t depend on others’ approval for your happiness. Don’t evaluate yourself by others’ parameters. Have your own. It’s more important to BE good than to be thought good.
Keep an active conscience.. it pays to have one. Life might seem easier in its absence but believe me it actually gets more complicated. Honesty, you will see, IS the best policy. So do your own homework, don’t expect mama to chip in even if the teacher never gets to know.
Don’t expect too much from yourself. It’s not important to be THE best.. it’s important to give YOUR best. I remember the time you went for a fancy dress competition, you were just two years old. You got tongue tied on the stage and then couldn’t forgive yourself for the longest time because you couldn’t give your best. Don’t be hard on yourself baby.. leave that to the others.
Focus. When you take up something stick with it. You’re a busy girl I know. There are many many things to be done, places to be explored, activities to be taken up .. but do finish what you start or else you’ll get nowhere.
Look beyond the external. Beautiful is NOT always good. And while on looks — clothes are not the end of the world.. oh well you are a girl after all, I’ll let you have that one.
More later
Love and hugs
Mama
Privacy Policy Proudly powered by WordPress