Category: Write Tribe

12 most intriguing mom-types

12 most intriguing mom-types


Once I was obsessivemom. I outgrew it.

I think I did. I sure hope I did. The thing is you never know.

I do however, remain, a ‘mom’ observer. They’re interesting, believe me. Being a mom changes you in a way you would never have imagined. It makes you a new, different person, sometimes unrecognisable by your old self. A lot of these moms below live inside me.

1. ‘My child best’ mom: She’s easy to spot. She wears her child like a medal. Nope, God didn’t make any other child as wonderful as hers. No one can dance like her, sing like her, write or speak or jump or run or even walk as gracefully, as athletically as hers.

2. Know it all mom: Yeah she knows it all. A stomach ache? She has the cure. A dance class? She knows the best one. Fancy dress, super recipes, parenting styles – she knows all. Have a suggestion? Well keep your mouth shut!

3. ‘Go get it’ mom: She’s the ultimate motivator. She’ll push and she’ll prod and she’ll push some more till she has her child on that victory stand. She won’t pause, she won’t stop. Not even to check if her child wants to be there at all.

4. The co-curricular mom: She’s the one you’re most likely to bump into in elevators. A Hi! and  Bye! and she’s gone, kids in tow – one class to the next. Her kids need to learn everything. From chess to ballet, piano to Spanish, basketball to the drum, she has it all covered.

5. Food fanatic mom: She’s the gajar ka halwa, the garam garam roti mom – the one who spends hours whipping up the perfect recipe. She revels in the fact that she makes her own ketchups and jams, that her pizza is better than Dominoes and her burger better than Mc Donalds.

6. The psychology professor mom: She’s Ms Analysis. Every action of hers and her child’s is examined and cross examined, analysed and cross analysed. “I yelled at him. Will it scar him for life?” “He scored badly in his tests, will he go into a depression?”

7. Academic mom: She’s the one who lives one unit test to the next. Exam times see her at her peak. She will obsesses about each quarter mark lost and will keep track of her child’s ranking like Shylock counted his gold.

8. Cleanliness freak mom: That can of sanitiser will give her away. Open her bag and you’ll find dry tissues, wet tissues, tissue rolls, soap strips and napkins. She covers her mouth when she steps on the road. She sanitises her kids’ hands every five minutes and wipes glasses and plates in restaurants before food is served.

9. ‘I’m your friend’ mom: This ones not quite a mom at all. She’s a friend, a pal. She dresses like her daughter and shares her makeup. She uses slang like her kids and hangs out with their friends on FB. 

10. The ‘Awww’ mom: She’s the one who cannot get over how wonderful her kids are. She tears up at every smiley her child gets at school and cries over every ‘I love you note’ from her child. She can’t talk without a ‘sweety’ or a ‘honey’ and is always found hugging, petting and cuddling her ‘baby’.

11. ‘My kids are my life’ mom: Her life begins and ends with her kids. Her conversation never strays from them. Suggest a coffee date and she’ll fix you with an incredulous stare, “What? Without the kids?”.. and you’ll slink away feeling a mean and selfish mom. As for me time… what’s that? she asks.

12. The perfect mom: She’s the toughest to define. Um.. actually she’s the easiest to define for aren’t all moms just perfect?

Oh they can be annoying, intriguing and so so different, but they don’t deserve to be judged. They all, yes all, love their children and are trying really hard to do the best they can.

This post was done for Write Tribe. For more ’12 most…’ entries go here.

Battling Bloggers Block

Battling Bloggers Block

 It seems the world is conspiring to rescue my blog from inertia. I’ve been trying to get back to posting regularly but nothing seems to be working. First I did a week-long Drabble Fest. I struggled to sit at the computer each day, posting my entries late into the night. Once the Fest was over I was back to square one.. Idealess, inspirationless.

Now I get a second chance…
Write Tribe asks us to list five ways to tackle bloggers block. If I don’t make use of this bit of introspection to help myself, I truly never will. So here goes…
The first thing I should be doing is 

Read read read

…blogs. I find reading other blogs often opens the floodgates of my creativity. Something somewhere sparks off an idea – an agreement, a disagreement an add on – And voila.. I’m off. Then there are times (like now) when reading doesn’t do it. So then I look for ..

Blogging prompts

Sites like Write Tribe throw up prompts which are a great way to begin that conversation with your blog. I often weave my current state of kind into the prompts. Not just is that a bonus but it also helps me open up my heart. And that’s how blog posts happen for me – from the heart. Less mind more heart!
If that doesn’t work either, I try a..

Free write

I often win my battle with the block by pushing myself to sit down with the sole purpose of writing. That in itself is a task – no browsing, no FB, no tinkering with the kids’ projects… just writing. It’s hard, often. However, once I make myself sit I simply write the day’s happenings. Mundane details like what I did, where I went, how I felt – a good meal, a nasty neighbour, a challenging day with the kids, a spot of good behaviour from them – anything can make for a post. Of course a bunch of such free writes never get to hit the publish button and languish in my drafts.  And that’s where I go scavenging when I’m at my wits end.

Going through my drafts

…and trying to rework them helps sometimes. Seen days or months later from a new perspective they throw up new insights. 
And my final astra against the bog block are

Listicles

.. articles written as lists. I try some easy ones…

5 reasons I love blogging
5 reasons I enjoy going to the gym
5 kinds of people I cannot stand
5 ways to handle cranky kids
And that normally does it for me.

Still stuck?

If my top five didn’t work for you, do check out Write Tribe for more bright idea from some of the most fabulous bloggers. Good luck!

A lesson, a Drabble and some innovation

A lesson, a Drabble and some innovation

This was going to be hard. Saying ‘No’ always was. For a second she considered a ‘Yes’ then gave herself a mental shake. ‘No’, it had to be. A moment later her daughter came skipping in, ‘So may I mama, please?’. ‘No,’ she said gently, trying to blunt the blow with her smile. The dreaded tears came in a deluge.

Later she watched her daughter playing happily. In teaching her a lesson she had learnt one too – that life lessons were important, tears temporary. She wished she knew then what she knew now. It would have made her decision easier.

***************
Linking to Write Tribe’s 100 words on Saturday for the prompt
“S/he wished S/he knew then what S/he knew now”

The Drabble will make more sense if you read yesterday’s post.

With all of that behind us we spent a near perfect day today.. Cleaning together. 

There she is wrestling a cushion cover. She won with honours, I might add.

A month of being away has left the house coated in layers of dust. Seriously, how it climbs up to the 9th floor is a mystery. The maid’s on leave and I’d have probably left it as it was and waited for her (yes I’m bad like that. And I do hate housework) but we’re expecting a friend and it needed to be done. 

Over lunch, N asked me if she could melt her dairy milk and re-freeze it into tiny chocolates. I had this vision of a chocolate smeared kitchen and refused rightaway. I stashed away the moulds for good measure. Later, while cleaning the fridge I spotted this… 

She even found some cake sprinklers and used them

On quizzing her she said she had melted the chocolate in the sun then poured it out into medicine dispensers and topped them off with gems. Didn’t I tell you this new gen was a tad too smart?

In other news she has figured out how to use the printer all on her own. Now she can do her school projects on her own. Yay! Maybe 8 years is that magic age when kids grow up suddenly.

So, what’s the right time to allow a sleepover?

So, what’s the right time to allow a sleepover?

After some happy hours of play, N came in for lunch today bubbling with excitement. ‘Mama may I go to V’s house for a sleepover?’ She asked. I was kind of prepared, since a few minutes earlier I’d had a phone call from V asking the same question and I’d put her off saying I’d get back to her. 
This marks the entry of my twins in second phase of their lives – the beginning of a new set of parenting decisions and dilemmas. With the kids’ eighth birthday round the corner I thought I still had a few years before queries such as this one popped up. 
Friends hanging out in pajamas

In all honesty, I questioned myself – Is she ready for a sleepover?
The answer is ‘probably yes’. Here’s why I think so..
Since she asked, no begged, for it she probably is ready.
She has slept away from me (with my sister and her cousins) a few times.
She doesn’t wake up too often during the night.
She’s pretty independent (in my absence).
She behaves like a gem (in my absence).
So yes she’s ready for it.
The second thing I asked myself was Who is she spending the sleepover with?
And there were where the worries lay. Nope, there’s nothing wrong with the family. They live in the same society as us and I see them around pretty frequently. They’re in that vague slot between acquaintances and friends. However, how okay was it to let a child casually call up and invite a friend for a sleepover, I wondered. Am I over reacting in thinking this is a watershed moment in my kids’ life? That this is a big deal? Is it just like a simple play date or an evening out with friends (which I am also dubious about till I know the family well)?

I would have certainly appreciated some reassurance from the mum. 
And I had queries. Lots of them…
Who else is coming?
Who are the other adults in the house?
What about older siblings?
What would they be doing before they turn in for the night?
Would they be watching scary TV? (Such a no no!)
Being a girl thing would they be talking/trying out dress up and makeup? (aren’t they too young for that?)
What time would they actually sleep?

I would have liked to ask all of those and maybe some more. Yes I’d have liked a chat with the mum.

Sounds like I’m fussy? Well I’m entrusting the most precious thing of my life to a relative stranger, I have to fuss. I am well aware I’m a tad reluctant in letting the kids go. (It’s not quite right and I’m working on it. The progress has been slow, I might add).
Mercifully an old friend is arriving with her kids the morning of the proposed sleepover so the decision was made rather easily.
What was not so easily done is conveying the news to N. I had the heartbreaking task of delivering the ‘no’ watching her tiny face crumble into tears.
That, right there, is the time I HATE being a mum.

************

Linking that bit of introspection to Write Tribe’s Free Write for the Wednesday prompt.

Language of compassion

Language of compassion

She
had been standing there for a good ten minutes. Traffic flowed like a river
in flood. Never unceasing, fast and incessant. She had
come to dread her morning trips to the market. Despite her years in the city
she hadn’t mastered the art of zigzagging through it all.
She waited on.. uncertain, scared.
Finally, she took a step forward and was greeted by a flurry of
honks as a scooter whizzed by almost brushing her sari. The driver waved her back with an impatient look, like she had invaded his personal space. She stepped back almost guiltily.
She wiped her sweat, adjusted her glasses, shifted her bag to the other hand and readied to try again. A giant city bus
materialised blocking all else other than its dirty red as it creaked to an angry halt.
Flustered, she stepped back onto the footpath again.
She looked around in part dread part fascination at other pedestrians making a dash through the
chaos.
I cannot stay here forever, she reasoned. She straightened her shoulders and with a bravado that felt false
to even to her own self, she stepped into the traffic. Within seconds she heard a car
screech to a halt inches from her… horns blared, people cursed. She tried to
look up but panic blinded her. Someone wrested her bag from
her hand, someone was grabbing her shoulder, propelling her forward. She tried to resist, but
couldn’t.
And then, in a flash, she was on the other side. Her bag was back
in her hand. She stood breathing hard, heart hammering. “It’s alright,” said the young girl, “you’re fine”. Relief and gratitude brimmed over. She tried to focus, a thank you on her lips, but the girl had already melted in the crowd.

Sometimes it takes just a minute, just a tiny gesture to express it
all.. tolerance, compassion, love.

*************


Edited to add: Do check out this page here…
Random Acts of Kindness Week.