Parenting Archives - Page 8 of 21

20/05/2017

Supermom!

When that genetically mutated spider bit Peter Parker his (Parker’s obviously) life changed forever. Something similar happened to me when I had the twins.

At first they were rather inconspicuous, these special powers that came to me.

Before the twins I was pretty much a Kumbhakaran – that gentle giant blessed with a sleeping curse. I couldn’t function without my 8-9 hours everyday. With the arrival of the children I began waking up many times a night – on my own – sometimes to change nappies, to feed and burp and sometimes simply to run a finger under the twins’ noses reassuring myself that they were real living people. Just like that, I was rid of my addiction.

That was the beginning.

As they grew my powers only increased. Like Parker I discovered in myself super strength and agility.

If he had superhuman reflexes that let him scale walls and fly over traffic to save people, I could sprint, do a back flip and dive right in just as one of the twins fell off the sofa.

If he was strong enough to stop a running train, I could stop a running cycle…. make that two running cycles, before they hurtled into simultaneous twin accidents.

If he could spin a web fine as silk and strong as steel, I could spin tales so intricate so elaborate, as to keep two hyper active minds quiet for hours on end.

As the teens approach my superpowers seem to be growing.

My memory might have gone on leave but my senses, By God, they’re in an overdrive. Just like Parker, I find my eyesight sharper, my hearing more acute and my sense of smell can rival that of a sniffer bomb squad dog.

Is that a scream of laughter or distress – I can tell without going into the room. Was the food found under our apartment window dumped by the twins or was it the old man on the floor below our’s – I’d know. (It was the old man, in case you were wondering). Is it an upset tummy or experiments with my makeup kit that was keeping them for hours in the washroom – I can always tell.

I can look through closed doors, listen to merest whispers and smell out secrets.
I successfully busted hair-trimming sessions before the twins had shorn each other off.
I put an end to ice-cream smuggling no matter how soundlessly the freezer door was opened.
I smell burning cookies and douse the flames before they take the house down.
One time I even staved off floods when the twins turned on the taps and blocked the drains to make a swimming pool in the washroom.

As I sit here with a self-satisfied smile writing this self-congratulatory piece I find my mom-senses tingling already. Got to go folks, time to spin another web and reel them in.

Linking up with

Mackenzie at Reflections from Me

And with Tweens,Teens & Beyond

Also joining Deepa at Kreative Mommy for #MondayMommyMoments.

12/04/201717/04/2017

Letting them be

‘Gooood Morning. Wake up. Wake up. It’s mooorning!’

‘What time is it?’

‘6.30’.

‘6.30? Why are you waking me up so early? It’s vacation time. Let me be.’

‘No please. Wake up, pretty please.’

‘Go away.’

‘But you promised you’d take us swimming.’

‘Ow! Okay five more minutes?’

Alllriggght! Five minutes. That’s 300 seconds 1..2…3…4…5…

At that point I just push off the covers and decide to give up on my sleep, whatever’s left of it that is, after all that conversation. Some role-reversal, this!

The other day I woke up to the sound of the doorbell. Darned milkman, thought I. Despite telling him over and over again not to ring the doorbell every morning, somedays he insists on doing just that, deriving some kind of perverse pleasure in disturbing my sleep. I opened the door to see N standing there, dressed in tracks and running shoes, her face bright pink, her grin stretching from ear to ear. I stared at her slightly disoriented wondering what she was doing on the wrong side of the door. ‘I went jogging,’ she explains, ‘You were asleep so I didn’t disturb you.’

That’s how my days have been starting since the holidays began. The kids, who insisted on sleeping well beyond 8 or 9 each morning, during their entire study leave, have been up by 6.30 am almost everyday, bursting with energy and ready with their lists of things to do. They sleep late, wake up early and want to spend every waking moment either in the pool or at their tabs.

I can be found reading a book while they splash around happily, or ferrying them around fulfilling their very varied wish lists or carting home tubs of ice cream. I am quite revelling in their freedom, taking a break from being mean mum. It is a relief and a pleasure to simply let them be, at least for the first few days.

The vacations are here!

20/02/201715/04/2017

Stressed out by technology

The other day I went out for a spot of shopping. Since I’ve become a SAHM/WFHM going out is a bit of a treat. I look forward to it. So the plan was I’d finish the chores then sit at a cafe and watch the world over a cup pf coffee. The kids don’t get back home till 3 pm so I have plenty of time.

I left the house at about 11am. Half an hour later I realised I’d left my phone at home. And that was it. Just like that my trip was ruined. I rushed through the chores, getting impatient at slacking salesmen, worry clouding my mind.

What if something happens at the children’s school and they need to contact me?

What if the Husband calls?

What if my parents need me?

What if? What if? What if?

One part of my brain kept telling me I was being ridiculous, that nothing could go wrong in the space of two hours. And yet I couldn’t shake off the worry. The coffee, of course, was abandoned. I came home with a throbbing head only to find the phone lying innocently on my dresser with just the usual, inane, WhatsApp messages crowding it.

It might have something to do with the fact that the Husband is out of town. Being the sole person responsible for the kids makes me continuously anxious, perhaps.

Or is it just that I am over-dependent on the phone? That I have fallen in the habit of checking it ever so often? That I need the content reassurance that all is well? I do know the kids are safe at school. How else would I let them spend the better part of their day there? That’s what the rational part of me tells me. And yet the worry doesn’t leave.

Our parents were happier ..

My sister and I went to a school some 10kms away, which by our small-town standards, was really really far. The bus stop was over a km away and we walked, on our own. We didn’t have a phone at home, not even a landline. My dad could be contacted in office of course, but that was it. And we survived.

The thought then was, ‘The girls are at school, what can happen?’

All I think now is. ‘So what if they are at school, anything can happen.’

That, when schools today are better equipped to handle emergencies, with full-fledged sick-bays and well trained staff.

Technology, I am sure was made to reassure us, instead it has made us so much more anxious. Maybe we simply need to put our phones away and learn to get used to it, to give up the urge to check them constantly, almost like we were expecting bad news.

Do you do this too? Do you check your phone often? Do you also feel insecure if you’re separated from it?

Linking up with Mel at Microblog Mondays.

16/01/201715/08/2017

Why I sweat the small stuff

Dear H and N,

You know as well as I do that mornings aren’t the best time of the day for us. The stepping out of that warm quilt, the quick shower, the scramble for the id-card, the rush to the bus-stop – not quite your favourite things. I know.

A lot of these things aren’t really mandatory at school – like the bath or the ID card. And yet I insist. No you cannot stay up late on a school night, you cannot stay home just because you are feeling lazy today, you cannot go without a bath and you have to put your towel out to dry, yes you have to wear your ID card every day and yes you have to make two ponytails.

“But my teacher doesn’t mind,” you had whined today. You have a point, of course. So why should we struggle and worry and pick an argument every morning?

No I’m not crazy, though you may not quite believe it yet.

Let me begin at the beginning.

I was brought up in a disciplined household where we were taught to respect rules, at home and in school. Like you, I didn’t always agree with my parents. Many days I scrambled for the bus. I trimmed my nails on the way to school, I cut up my ribbon to make the mandatory two ponytails when I forgot. And when I couldn’t ‘manage the situation’ I was prepared for the punishment aware that I was at fault. Not that I had a choice.

It’s tough, isn’t it? Doing it the ‘proper’ way all the time?

As I grew I learnt that it was okay to stretch the deadline, be a little late, bend the rules and then further I learnt it was okay sometimes to not be completely honest. Yes I learnt all of that and I did it too.

So, I hear you ask, when we have to grow up to live in an imperfect world why not begin to learn its ways right now? Why struggle to learn things we will need to unlearn later? It’s the easier way, the more comfortable one, after all.

Here’s why..

Imagine my mum had told me it was okay to lie occasionally, that rules didn’t much matter and punctuality was useless. Would I, then, have even tried to do any of those things? How would I have even known right from wrong?

There lies the difference.

Each time I took the easy alternative I knew it wasn’t quite right. And I did try ever so hard to stick to the rules before I took up the other way. Even while I’m aware that I live in an imperfect world, I continue to appreciate and value a good habit, a disciplined lifestyle, an attempt at doing the right thing. The awareness of good and bad is the first step to striving for the good and it is my job to pass on this awareness to you, dear children, in as undiluted a form as I possibly can.

For now you will simply have to believe that the rules are there for a reason. In another few years you’ll be gone, studying and living on your own. I know then you will dump many of them. Do that, by all means, enjoy the freedom, stay up late, skip the bath, miss the bus. I did it too. What you do later in life, how you use your childhood lessons, whether you use them at all, will depend entirely on you.

I am hoping, however, that when you’ve had your fill of freedom, reason will return, like it did to me. I am hoping, as you grow you will see the wisdom of these age old values. Not all will stand the test of time and that is fine. You will question them and change them and make some of your own.

But when it comes to the really big things, I am hoping, you will know right from wrong and that you will find the courage to do the right thing.

I am counting on it.

That’s why I sweat the small stuff now – because often it is the small stuff that makes a big difference.

Love and hugs

MaPic: PIXABAY

13/10/201615/04/2017

A less than perfect role-model

You know the trickiest part of parenting? The part where you become a role model for a tiny human, or two in my case, whether you like it or not.

Never in my life have I striven to be a better person — with better habits and a better attitude — as hard as I did since I had the kids. That, without even being aware of it.

The idea that someone thinks (at least for the first decade of his/her life) that you are the epitome of perfection, aims to be ‘just like you’ and is watching you all the time and copying you too is unnerving to say the least.

Years in the hostel and then with just the two of us – The Husband and I – at home made us lose touch with many ‘good’ childhood habits. When the twins came along they sprung right back up with a vengeance.

To begin with we got into a proper schedule. No lounging in bed till 10 am on weekends or staying up late watching movies endlessly. First it was because unexpected changes made the kids cranky and then later simply because that was what suited all of us best.

Next we purged swear words from our vocabulary – no shits, no craps, no damns. Two tiny toddlers lisping them out at us was more than we could handle.

That was just the start. I realised it was easier to get them to do things if I did them first. If I wanted to them to eat at the table (and not in front of the TV) I had to do that myself too, if I wanted them to not go barefoot I had to wear slippers too, if I wanted them to speak a language well I had to give up the mish mash I often slipped into.

They even made me challenge the non confrontationist in me. I learnt to speak out when they were wronged not only because I was way too angry to let it go but also because I didn’t want them to sit back and accept bad behaviour or unfair treatment.

I changed. A lot. However, it’s been ten years since they were born and it does get exhausting. Much as I would want to be this other person permanently, all the time, I realised I simply could not — even though she was a far better version of me.

Some of my childhood habits came back and stuck for good but some I gave up along the way.

Mercifully the children are growing out of the ‘mama is perfect’ mode. And that is a relief, at least for now. I know I’ll be regretting it soon enough as they move to the ‘You don’t know anything, You don’t understand’ phase. But until then I am glad I can let them see that I am not perfect and that they don’t need to be either. And yet that doesn’t mean I’ll stop bugging them or that they don’t need to keep trying their darndest.

I won’t obsesses about it, though. As long as the basic values are in place – honesty, loyalty, empathy, chivalry – the rest shall follow in good time.

Picture credit: Pixabay