Category: Parenting

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Of ‘well-meaning’ advice

Photo Credit: Getty Images

Dear well-wisher friend,

This letter comes after much thought and heartache. I’m sure you remember yesterday’s incident. The kids were playing together on the slide. Of course they are too old to slide the conventional way so they were inventing a host of games climbing up, sliding down, crashing into each other, creating a ‘jam’. There was some amount of roughhousing but they were having fun.

After a while we heard a commotion and by the time we got there N was in tears while H stood looking guilty. Apparently as he pulled her down the slide he twisted her ankle. Worse, her dress climbed up embarrassing her and bringing out the tears.

Yes I felt her embarrassment every bit as acutely as she did herself. After all she gets it from me – this feeling of wanting to disappear from the face pf the earth at the slightest unfavourable attention. Given that some of it was witnessed by a bunch of boys and girls, must have felt terrible. I know the feeling. I’ve been there – many times over.

I took H aside, gave him a talking to and sent him home.

However, I seemed to have failed you in your expectation. According to you I should have meted out a harsher punishment. No, it wasn’t enough that I speak to him later at home. I was too soft on him, you felt. He deserved a dressing down right there before his friends. He should have been embarrassed just as he had embarrassed N so that he would remember it the next time, you said.

I wholeheartedly agree H needs to be sensitive in the playground. I know he gets carried away in a crazy sort of way. I agree he needs to be punished. However I do not think shaming him in public is the way to do it. You may not agree of course, and that’s your prerogative entirely.

While you remain my friend and have known the twins for some time I’d like to remind you that I do know them a little better than you. I know what H did wasn’t done with the intention of embarrassing N while should I have done the same to him it would have been very much intentional, that, when I’m decades older than him and hopefully more sensible.

Also, you were not there to see that by the time we got home H had done both our beds, warmed the food, set the table and served us all dinner – his way of saying ‘sorry’. I also know that he may err again. I know it might take him time to turn into the perfect gentleman that I hope he will become one day. I am prepared to wait.

Meanwhile I’m happy to inform you that the incident has done no permanent damage to N going by the way she was wrestling with H this morning.

Your comments hurt me terribly, even though I am convinced I did the right thing. Perhaps that is because, of late, I’ve been on extremely rocky parenting ground constantly analysing each step I take till somedays I feel I feel I’ll go completely crazy. I’d truly appreciate if you keep your suggestions, however well-meaning, as I’m sure they are, to yourself.

Also, if you do have some serious advice, I’d love for you to say it to me directly, rather than saying it came from one of the kids because then I am more likely to take it seriously.

Thank you again for your concern.

OM

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Obsessivemom needs a break

The OM is upset. It’s the kids. They have been giving her a specially rough time. Put it down to the long Diwali break, the absence of the husband or simply to the twins’ terrible tweens. She’s been by turns, angry, hurt and frustrated. So she seeks out her better self – The Sane Mum. You might remember her from here here or here . 
OM: Did you just see how the twins spoke to me? How unappreciative and ungrateful they have become? And how very rude!
SM: I did. Have you noticed that they’re growing up?
OM: I have. But does that mean they have to be rude and argumentative all the time? They’re children still and I am still their mum. I still AM the older one around here. Or does no one remember that any longer?
SM: It might do well for you to remember that you are the older one here. You aren’t really handling this like a grown up. Actually, I’ve been waiting awhile to have this conversation.
I’ve watched you being drawn into long fruitless arguments. I see you realising you’re going nowhere and yet unable to stop.
I’ve seen the endless war of wills and watched them all end badly.
I’ve seen you get into control freak mode the more they resist; the more you control the more they resist.
I’ve watched the kids trying to assert their independence and also seen with regret how you’ve waited for them to fail.
And then you’ve been ready with your ‘I told you sos’.
I’ve seen Mushy Mum (MM) run and hide till Mean Mum (MeM) takes over and then I’ve been witness to your heartfelt regret.
Cut them, and yourself, some slack will you!
OM: So you’ve been having a laugh at my expense? Well, they might THINK they’re grown up but I still have to guide them in a hundred things. They NEED me still. 
SM: … and they always will. But perhaps it’s time to guide them not by holding their hand and leading them but simply by showing them the way.
OM: It’s just easier to pull them along.
SM: Sure is. Keep doing that and watch them run the other way.
OM: There’s no need to get sarcastic.
SM: Uh okay..sorry. I kind of know how you feel. It’s the way you’re made – manufactured to obsess. But you need a makeover, and fast, or you’re set to lose them.
OM (panicking): Lose them? 
SM: Yeah. You need to remember that the kids are no longer babies. What worked for you might not work for them … or it may … they want to figure it out themselves. Let them do it. They need a break from your obsessing.
OM: So it’s all my fault? Exactly whose side are you on?
SM: Their’s. But so are you, aren’t you? We’re all on the same side.
OM: Yeah right but I don’t want to leave.
MM: Nor do I. They just don’t want me around these days.
SM: I don’t think ANY of us wants to leave. But OM you need to change into me, or at least disguise yourself really well as me. As for MM, you need to be around too but don’t ever, ever show up in public. Keep those hugs and kisses in check. When the two of you are in your element there really is no space for me. And you do need me most at this point of time.
OM: You’re unbearably pompous. So the two of us should go into hiding while you rule the roost?
SM: That’s right. Unless you want to lose the kids.
OM: No no of course not. I’ll give it a shot but I have a feel this is going to be a rough ride. Sigh!
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Babies still

Monday mornings are a drag. Since the husband moved out of the city for work, they’ve become worse. It’s sad when he can’t fly home for the weekend; it’s sadder when he does. He leaves early in the morning and the kids wake up to find him gone.
Today, N who seems to be extra sensitive to his departure, woke up unusually cranky and reluctant. Despite my efforts to cheer her up she seemed determined to pull us all down. With less than five hours of sleep I was
near snapping point.

 

However, when she said she was too tired to get up I simply picked her up and carried her to the washroom. It had been a long time since I had carried her and the ‘hug’ felt good. Mercifully, even at nine years, she’s yet not too heavy for me, this little one of mine. (H almost knocks me over when he clambers
on, which he does often).

She seemed to cheer up a bit and so I offered to give her a bath just like when she
was a baby. We spent a happy ten minutes in the washroom falling back into our old old pattern, splashing water on her while she tried to wet me and I pretended to be angry.

By the time I was helping her into her clothes laughing together, she had forgotten her crankiness and so had I. She finished her breakfast ‘even faster than H’. We went down to the bus-stop happier than I could have ever hoped for.

Sometimes children just need to be babies, to be pampered silly, their tiny whims catered to. We often find it difficult to come to terms with the fact that our children are growing up. However, just as often, we take their growing up for granted. Some days it helps to remember that grown up as they seem, they are babies still.

Disclaimer: A post like this in no way means I’m a sane centred zen mama. Most days I’m the regular harridan. It’s just that I blog about the good days because it is heartening to remember that once in a while I can avert the bad ones.

Linking up to Microblog Mondays. We’re talking about space travel. Do leave your thoughts there.

 

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The truth about lies

Dear H and N,

You remember the other day we were reading Matilda? The formidable Ms Trunchbull was yelling at her and Matilda tells a tiny white lie to save herself. You know what a white lie is, don’t you? It’s that small harmless lie that hurts no one but might actually save someone.

A question in your worksheet asked, “Did you think Matilda did right?” Both of you were in complete agreement with her, given that Ms Trunchbull was such a tyrant and she was but a child.

We talked about honesty and H, you were pretty accurate when you said, ‘If a lie doesn’t harm anyone, it is okay.’And N you had added, “When mamas tell babies to drink up their milk or their bones will break, it’s okay na, even though bones don’t ACTUALLY break if we don’t drink milk, right?’

Yes well you are right. 

Or are you??

Listen to this story before you make up your mind…

Imagine you have a friend; a special friend who is always with you. He talks to no one but you and no one can hear him but you. He’s a bit magical in that he always knows right from wrong. He has a problem, though – he cannot keep quiet when he sees any dishonesty – even the tiniest most harmless one. He’s a bit crazy like that.

Each time you are dishonest — even a tinny tiny bit, even when you’ve simply kept quiet when you might have spoken up — he bugs you and bugs you and bugs you till you feel really bad. Just when you are feeling relieved you’ve warded off a horrible yelling or a punishment he reminds you that you’ve done it dishonestly and makes you feel bad all over again.

And so you get angry and tell him to shut up. “I know it’s not the complete truth but THIS time it doesn’t matter. It’s just a tiny lie,” you say. But he doesn’t listen. “A lie is a lie,” says he, over and over again. Finally you’ve had enough and you’re so angry you tape his lips.

With each little lie another bit of tape goes onto your friend’s lips. 

Over the years it becomes a habit, this ‘shutting up’ your friend. His voice becomes more and more faint, till you can hear it no more and you’re lying without even thinking. You forget you ever had a friend. Finally there comes a time when you’re all grown up and you have a big complicated decision to make where the right and wrong is all mixed up and you cannot make out one from the other. “Aha!” you think then, “my friend can tell me, he has the magic that tells right from wrong”.

Then you remember, with a bit of regret, you’ve taped him up. “No problem,” you think as you start to painstakingly remove it all. Finally, the tape is off but what is this?? He still cannot speak. After years and years of silence he has lost his magic voice.

What do you do then? Of course, you might come to me or to papa but we might not be around by then. Besides, we haven’t been with you all along like your friend and may not have the right answers. What then? You’re quite stuck, right? It will be a hard hard task to teach your friend to talk again and by then it just might be too late.

We all have this friend inside us. It’s called the Conscience. The thing to do, dear children, is to keep your little friend up and fighting fit. Let him yell at you and bug you till he gets his way. Yes, he will make you confess you broke that plate, and get you yelled at too, but then he will also free you from endless days worrying about ‘what will happen when mama finds out?’. And that extra tight hug she gave you saying she was glad you owned up – totally worth it, wasn’t it?

Listen to your little friend with all your heart because honesty, complete honesty is, and will always be, the best policy.

Love and hugs always,

Ma.

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A rant

Do you have days when nothing seems to be coming together? When you wake up each morning with a fresh resolve for a cheerful day and watch the resolve done and dead within a few hours? When the kids just won’t stop whining? When every interaction with them is a struggle? When, just as you fix one situation, another one is upon you? 

It’s been a bit like that over the last week or two. The twins have been down with a bunch of real and imagined ailments. That I am not able to figure out which is which is driving me crazy.

First H complained of throat pain. Over the evening it escalated, and by night time he was wringing his hands and crying out each time he swallowed. After a panicked phone call to my doctor SIL I rushed out to buy medicine. As I got back I heard him singing, yes singing out loud, loud enough to be heard outside the house. And it has returned each night – the hand wringing and the moaning hasn’t stopped despite my threats and pleadings. 

Then it was N’s turn. She complained of a headache. Do kids have headaches? Anyway, since she rarely falls ill, I assumed she just wanted a day at home (since H had called in sick a few days back) and I went along with it. She stayed home, read, drew, coloured, crafted and cycled through the day and seemed all fine till evening. And then the ‘ache’ was back moving to her stomach accompanied with ‘nausea’ (‘every time I eat I feel like puking’) and loss of appetite. Back I was to the SIL wondering if the vague symptoms indicated jaundice till I ruled it out.

That’s how it’s been between the two of them.

Do I sound over-anxious? Yeah, I do, even to myself. But at that point their illnesses seem very real and very worrisome. I wonder if kids have any clue how their vague and casual complaints leave mums stressed.

And then there are mosquitoes….

Many nights in a row H has been waking me up because he hears a ‘buzz’. He’s mortally scared of mosquitoes – scared, not annoyed like the rest of us. I’ve tried everything – from repellent gadgets to creams. He has always been a mosquito magnet but I’m beginning to think the buzz is more in his head than anywhere else. Each night he walks into my room at ungodly hours, shutting doors and windows till I suffocate, screaming if he hears a buzz and then falling asleep leaving me waiting for the alarm so I can get on with my day. 

Mornings find me irritable with a body ache that refuses to go. I am unable to go to the gym which means hanging out at home feeling horribly fat and cranky (Ugh!). I resent every phone call, every knock at the door, even the maid – anything that comes between me and my shut eye, which just doesn’t happen. It’s a bit like I was back to their baby years with the sleep starvation.

I’ve been wondering if it’s that’s what making me over-anxious. After all the kids couldn’t have changed overnight. I should be used to their myriad illnesses.  I AM used to them. I could always figure out the real from the fake. Now I just cannot seem to.

This is unusual too – this rant. I do not usually rant unless I have a physical person sitting in front of me – when I bug the h*** out of them – someone from my list of ‘privileged’ few :-). Unfortunately  that hasn’t been possible and you have had to bear the brunt of it. 

On a positive note the discovery of the day has been that a good bath seems to wash away a lot of my crabbiness. Highly recommended for bad days when everything seems to be going wrong. That and a change in schedule seems to make me feel better.

As a new week comes up I have my fingers crossed.

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