Category: me

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To boil or not to boil?

I was at the doctor’s a few days back with an extremely painful neck and
shoulder. Looking at my X-Ray he tut tutted all over it then pronounced
‘Cervical Spondilitis’ – which I believe is pretty common these days. He also
found ‘abysimally low’ levels of Vitamins D and B.
He went on to prescribe,
along with a bunch of medicines, more time outdoors (which I liked), swimming
(which thrilled the kids since I’m never able to make time to take them
swimming) and a bunch of medicines. He also asked me to stop boiling the milk that I had everyday. 
What? Not boil milk?
Hasn’t that been an intrinsic part of my morning routine? Just as it was my
mom’s and her mom’s too.
However, what the doctor
said made sense – If we are drinking pasteurised milk we don’t really need to
boil it. Pasteurisation meant it had been boiled and cooled already, the
bacteria had been taken care of. When we boil it again, he said, we kill the
vitamins, specially those of the B Group.
A look at google pretty
much confirmed what he said but confused me too. I had no clue there was so
much science to boiling milk the correct way. I mean you put it in a pan, put
it on the stove, watch it till it comes up then switch it off. Right?
Wrong. I found a bunch of dos and don’ts and I got so confused that I
wiped them clean off my mind.
I decided to do my own
thinking. 


Here’s why I felt I needed to boil the milk: 
1. The packets are often so dirty that it is difficult to believe the milk they contain is safe.
2. After boiling I
could remove the layer of cream and get toned milk (the fight against
fat, remember?)
3. The milk lasts longer
once it is boiled.
4. And lastly of course – generations of habit.
I have now struck a mid-path
to make sure I get my vitamins:

1. I wash the
packets thoroughly before I cut them open. 
2. I switched to double
toned milk. A friend suggested switching to cow’s milk – I might do that – it’s
lighter on the stomach.
3. I try to consume it on
the same day and boil only what I need to carry over to the next day.
It seems to be working
fine as of now.
So do you boil your milk
or was it only me all this while?

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When I look in the mirror, I see..

 

When I look in the mirror, I see…..

my daughter’s small face peeking from behind me, a smile lighting it up like sunshine,
‘May I please leave my hair open today?’ she asks.
I turn back and look at her, ‘If you’re going to play, you make a pony, you know that.’
‘Okay,’ she agrees reluctantly taking over the mirror.
I move away to see my son dashing down with his shirt half tucked in, hair askew, collar standing.
I make a grab for him, ‘You can’t go down like that. Take two minutes to stand before the mirror and look at yourself.’
‘Excuse me,’ he says to the daughter with mock sweetness, squeezing in beside her, trying to smooth down his hair with one hand while stuffing his shirt into his jeans with the other then dodges me and runs away, collar still standing.
She then takes over the mirror. I watch her tying a neat little pony, meticulously tucking her hair in before skipping off. A sigh and a smile and I get on with my day.

 

When I look in the mirror, I see… 

a cushion flying right at me. I duck and it crashes into its reflection. H tries to look contrite while N chortles, ‘Bad aim!!’ And I turn pretending to be angry only to pick up the offending cushion and join in the fight. I see the look of surprise on the twins’ faces turn to delight as I thump each of them in turn. I win hands down till they decided to team up and have me down in a moment. Finally we all dissolve into laughter and collapse onto the bed in a happy heap.

 

 

When I look in the mirror, I see …. 

 

Deep laugh lines, crows feet by the eyes.
A head of brown hair with some silver surprise.
A few frown lines up there on the forehead
For worries are part of a life well lead.


What I really see is a contented me
a contented me smiling right back at me.


But she has a complaint, or is it a plea?
She’d like to perhaps, see a little more of me.
Yes, I assure her, just a few years more
And then I’ll have time, time galore


For now let me be, for a few years let go,
I can’t stop now lest I miss the kids grow.

 

Once they’ve grown and have learnt to fly
That’s when we’ll talk, we’ll talk – you and I
But until that happens I have little time for you
a glimpse or two will just have to do.

***********

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Why holidays without kids are essential for moms

I wasn’t born an Obsessivemom. Truly I wasn’t. Like I said before
I wasn’t even a kid-friendly person till the twins came along. And then I was transformed into a mum – all of me. And I’m not complaining. Well most of the time I’m not. Oh okay… I don’t really mean it even if I do.

Every mum needs a break

But mums need a break, even obsessive moms. Not just from the kids but also from home and the entire shebang that comes with it – Is there bread for tomorrow, Did I put the curd for setting, The printer’s down again, Did the kids finish their homework? What shall I make for lunch, Ah the maid isn’t coming in again — A break from the mental preoccupation that comes with the territory.
Last week, after much debating (with myself) and plenty of prodding (from friends and family) we planned a break without the kids – three of my pals and I. I won’t write about what we did there. No, we didn’t paint the town red, we didn’t booze till the sun came up, we didn’t break into a song and dance in the market place – yet it was a holiday we’re not likely to forget in a hurry.It was a holiday where the usual everyday stuff was special in its simplicity, only because we were four relaxed women shorn of our everyday responsibilities and worries. We had no agenda, no places to visit, no shopping to do, no hurry to get anywhere.

I recommend it strongly for every mum – in fact the more you are into your kids the more you need to do this.

Here’s why:

It puts you in touch with your before-the-kids-came-along self 

– often the more fun carefree you. With the kids you become a different person – you need to be a different
person – responsible and grown up and more than a little anxious.
While on holiday we broke our own rules. We had snacks for lunch, roamed the markets till late at night, stopped at whatever took our fancy, stayed up talking books past midnight then lazed in bed next morning and lingered over breakfast.
An outing like this puts you in touch with the fun-relaxed you, reminding you of the joy of letting go once in a while. When you come back with that reminder you become a more fun-relaxed mum – and that’s good for the kids.

It’s gives you a reality check..

…bringing home the fact that the kids can survive without you and
happily so. Which, for a sane mum, is the most liberating of thoughts. It makes
you less clingy, (If you thought only kids were clingy, think again)
encouraging you to give the kids more freedom, equipping them to handle
more responsibility which is good for them, right?

It shows you a new side to your kids

My SIL, who was with the twins while I was away, said she grew sick of listening to
them saying, ‘Mama said… , ‘Mama said…’, ‘Mama said…’. This was amazing
because it meant they had actually been listening while I was talking and
were doing what I asked them to in my absence. Woohoo a miracle! With this new found perspective I can perhaps begin
to perceive them as somewhat responsible tweens rather than the babies I
think them to be…. and that’s good for them.

Oh and it’s rejuvenating

..which means you can get back to the task of mothering with ever
more happiness and enthusiasm and the belief that you are on the right track.
Which means you can be a better mum — and that again – yes you got it – is good
for the kids.

So for your kids’ sake – take that break.

Disclaimer: Let me clarify – this is just a way of selling the idea to mums who think they’ll be deserting the kids if they go on vacation. You should do this more for yourself than for the kids or the husband. You should do it even if life for them isn’t quite perfect when you’re away. You should do it even if they protest. They’ll learn to value you more when you’re around.

You owe it to yourself.

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If we were having coffee – 2

If we were having coffee I’d probably be gushing today because I’m H.A.P.P.Y. You’d have to struggle to get in a word but you might as well give up because I’m too excited to let you have your turn. And then when you’d throw up your hands in despair because I wouldn’t be making any sense in my eagerness to explain, I’d calm down enough to tell you that I was  going on a holiday… with friends… just us.

Our coffees would lie untouched as I’d go on about how excited I was because it was the very first time I was doing this in ten whole years – since I had the kids. The only other time I travelled without them was for my sister’s surgery so that didn’t really count (even though it turned out to be a kind of a Roman Holiday for me).

And no matter how much you rolled your eyes (because you’re the cool, calm, collected kind of friend) or tried to say it wasn’t a big deal my spirits would refuse to dampen because it was a big deal.

If we were having coffee I’d tell you of the crazy bunch I’m going with. How one was only thinking about the clothes she’d carry and the pictures we’d click while the other couldn’t stop dreaming of strawberries and cream. And I’d tell you how all I was looking forward to was a clean quiet room to revel in for one whole day.

‘Drink your coffee’, you’d say and then proceed to ask How? What about the kids? And a tiny line of worry would probably cloud my forehead as I’d reach for my coffee and, even though I was feeling a tad unsure, I’d tell you they were well looked after in my absence. As I assured you I’d probably be reassuring myself too.

If we were having coffee I’d tell you about my SIL who had volunteered to take care of the kids. And then as I would think of her calm smiling face the worry lines would melt because I know she’s good with them. She’d make sure N had a tiffin of her choice, she’d run after H mock threatening to embarrass him by hugging him as she dropped him off to school, she’d pamper them silly and they’d probably think I was back too soon.

And as I tell you this I’d fill up with gratitude for a wonderfully supportive family; for having people in my life who step in to lend a hand without my asking; who brush away my guilt trips with their no-nonsense talk.

I’d tell you how grateful I was for the way the kids had handled it with N making me promise to send her selfies ‘on Bua’s phone’ while H had sacrificed a birthday party without much of a tantrum.

As we would drain our cups I’d feel better for having talked to you, for having aired my worries and chased them away. And I’d tell you how grateful I was to have you to share my joys and sorrows always.

****************
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Sweet memories and some thoughts

Mel from Stirrup Queens has invited us today to share a memory of our favourite childhood candy and I realised I had more than one. Don’t worry, though, I promise not to get carried away.

To begin with there were these phantom cigarette candies. I shared this on Facebook sometime back and heard from many many friends saying how they missed them just like me. These had a texture quite like chalk and were sweet enough to put you off sweets for a long time, or so I thought when I recently sampled them again. I’d thought they were dead and gone till one day I got a call on the intercom from my 9 year old asking permission for a cigarette that his friends were offering. I completely freaked and asked him to come right home. And this is what he got. It brought back many many fun memories. When we were young, we would put them to our lips and pretend to blow out ‘smoke’ during the cold Lucknow winters. 

I also remember a ‘sweet man’ who was quite a favourite with all of us. He’d stand outside our school with a huge box, which he hung from his neck, stacked with all kinds of sweets. My favourites were these tiny pink rose flavoured sweets that I cannot remember the name of. They came in a peppermint flavour too but the rose were my favourite. I remember the fragrance more that the flavour. Regrettably, I have never found them again.

Those were certainly simpler times. Sweets back then were simply an occasional indulgence, nothing more. They didn’t need to boast of additional benefits. Have you noticed how these days they come ‘packed with energy boosters’ or ‘fortified with glucose’?

And so each time our child has a meltdown and we reach out for a sweet to pacify our sad or angry toddler we can tell ourselves, “Wow I avoided a tantrum and I gave him an energy boost!” A win-win situation, right? And it’s way easier than helping him work out strategies to cope with his anger/grief. Advertisers have certainly made the whole exercise guilt-free.

Okay I’m over analysing this whole thing but I do have a lot of issues with sweets and the way they are marketed. For instance, have you seen how Kinder Joy comes in a boy version and a girl version?? I mean, must sweets (and toys and books and everything else) also have a gender now?

Despite all the advertising hoo-haa I wonder if my kids will remember them with as much affection and nostalgia as I remember my phantom cigarettes.

Linking to Mel’s #Microblog Mondays .

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