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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
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Forecast for the day

I believe in astrology. Actually, I’m a convert – a relatively new one – since yesterday to be precise. Here’s how that happened. I woke up yesterday morning in a fairly happy frame of mind. Today the kids have their math paper and we were almost done with the portion. Then I happened to glance at my forecast for the day. Here’s what it said.
(The atmosphere and vibes at home are peaceful, and even if an argument takes you by surprise, your manner of reacting will soothe and heal.)
It only confirmed what I thought the day was going to be like. What could go wrong? The kids’ portion was done and we had the whole day ahead of us to revise.
Or so I thought!
I forgot how very fickle Math can be. Maybe the children were distracted or overconfident or simply had had enough, they just wouldn’t get their sums right. It seemed like all the practise of the day before had been wiped clean. After a point they refused to do any more. I was loath to give up because I knew they could do it. However the more I pushed the more they resisted.
That’s the point where things would have gone downhill had I not read that forecast. But however much an oxymoron it might seem, I was prepared to handle the ‘surprise arguments’ – to soothe and heal. 🙂 :-). So I let go for a while and by afternoon things were beginning to fall into place once more.
That is how the day’s prophesy for me came true and I turned into a believer. 
On a serious note I think the magic of astrology lies in believing as does the magic of success and achievement. Had my forecast said, something like Arguments-at-home-will-mess-your-day I would have probably believed that as well and despaired. But I didn’t. I hung onto my impatience because I knew I was supposed to be having a peaceful day.
This, I figured, was quite a neat little trick – one we could use with the children. All we have to do is to make them believe they are awesome and they’ll really make themselves awesome.
I’ll be looking up my forecast everyday now and making it come true, subject to the fact that it says something good. If it doesn’t, I’ll be writing my own to make sure I have a good day everyday.

You can write yours too. Have a happy week.
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and with Mel at  Microblog Mondays.
                                                
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Finding gratitude during exams

And so September bids adieu. And with that come exams – the first ever for the kids. I find myself unable to think of much else while the kids can think of everything else except academics.

I find them reading story books, making song lists, comparing computer game scores and planning ‘what to wear for the dandiya night’. Apparently they have picked up none of my exam anxiety and for that I have learnt to be immensely grateful.
I find I need at least three or four of me to help both of them while keeping them apart and managing the house. Early this week just as the arguments were turning into a complete impasse who should arrive but the husband! I don’t think I was as happy to see him arrive on our wedding day. Was I grateful!
He has such a calming influence on all three of us.
He took the kids out shopping (for all kinds of exam stationery) and they settled down to their studies.
He was only here for five days and was working for four of them yet we were happy to have him home. He’s gone now. And I think we will survive. I am already looking beyond the next 20 days to vacations when we will be travelling to join him.
By the next academic term we hope to be together.
I thought that was all I had for the gratitude post this month but as I write I realise I have more, so much more. Last evening while I was struggling with Marathi lessons with the kids (a language they now know better than me), I was dragged off for an hour of Zumba. I have to admit that one part of me was pretty incredulous that I could leave the kids between their exams for something as frivolous as Zumba. However, it was all for the best because the kids were anyway having a field day laughing at my pronunciations as I tried to quiz them.
And so I am grateful to friends and family who always rally around pulling me for impromptu breakfasts, long morning walks and short evening chats, keeping me sane.
I am now looking forward to October – the latter half of course.
I’d love to know your thoughts on academics and how they effect the kids and you. How important are they? Were they a trial for you when you were young or did you breeze through them? Do you find it difficult to get your kids to study? How different is it from the time you were a child and now?

If I seem overly and rather unnecessarily stressed do forgive me but academics have taken over all of my thoughts of late. Do bear with me for a few weeks.

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and with Mel at  Microblog Mondays.
                                                
And also with Vidya’s Gratitude Circle Blog Hop
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A milestone and a celebration

One thing the youngest child of every family learns to do perfectly is to await her turn. And so it is in the OM household. My third and youngest baby has been waiting patiently for her birthday celebrations.

Obsessivemom turned TEN this month!!

Imagine that!! One whole decade of blogging.

The celebrations are late by a week or so, but with the craziness at home I am just happy I got the month right.
People generally celebrate blogversaries by talking about how the blog has progressed over the years, how the number of followers has grown, the views skyrocketed, the Alexa numbers improved. But I have none of those. I’m not being humble, though I am a humble person, generally. What I am not, is a numbers person – numbers don’t register with me much.
However, what the blog has given me is quite priceless and I’ll say this gladly – it is way beyond numbers.
Over the years I have found I can say things here that I cannot otherwise. And I can say it with a fair amount of clarity and conviction (I still maintain I am a humble person). As I write and read back and edit and write again I find my head clearing up. Why I find it easier to talk to relative strangers while clamming up sometimes even at one-on-ones with friends, I have no idea. Perhaps it is the anonymity that frees me from the fear of being judged. It’s another matter that, over the years, much of the anonymity has vanished and many of you have turned dear friends. For that I can only be grateful.
It has been my conscious decision to keep things as positive as possible here on the blog. People close to me will know that life is way more chaotic than what it seems here, that I am not quite as patient and level headed as I might appear here. The things I laugh at in my posts have often driven me to distraction or even made me break down when I am in the middle of them. And yet the fact that I can laugh at them, that I can make light of my often over-the-top reactions, even if it is later, is what makes life good.
And when you guys drop by here and say ‘it happened to me too’ or ‘my kid did that too’ or  ‘O My God you survived that!’ it does wonders for me.
Then there are days when despite my resolve, the worries spill out here and then when I hear you say ‘it shall be alright’ or ‘you’re doing fine’ or ‘the kids will be okay’ it helps. It helps because I begin to believe it a little bit. And that is where I begin to win – because believing is half the battle won, right?
So thank you from the bottom of my heart for being here. I hope you guys are still there when I’m old and foggy and all I write about is the decadent ways of the new generation,  the cataract bugging my eyes and my most amazing grandchildren.
Linking up Mackenzie at Reflections from Me. She’s decoding true happiness in this post and says true happiness comes from loving yourself. Do drop by and take a read.

And also with Mel at  Microblog Mondays where she talks of goodbyes.
                                               
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Giving the heart its due

Have you ever been in love with two people at the same time? If you have – tell me how do you pick? While the head clearly chooses one, the heart longs for the other. It only becomes worse when in your head you’re a practical Capricorn and think the choice is clear – obviously you follow your head, right? But despite your best intentions you cannot stick it out because your heart is not in it.
Here I am stuck between my two loves – the head says gym, the heart sings out Z.U.M.B.A.

The backstory:

This last year has been a bit of a downer on the health front. Tests revealed desperately depleted Vitamin D levels. The doctor prescribed strengthening exercises that were gentler on the bones. The head quirked an eyebrow at the heart even while nodding in wholehearted agreement. The heart sighed but knew it didn’t stand a chance.
Dutifully I gave up Zumba and took up gym membership. I could do this, I thought, after all these were the first friends of my fitness journey – my first loves. I said hello once again to treadmill and dumbbells.

… and I settled down

…. to the leg presses and bicep curls. ‘Look’, the head told the heart, ‘It’s not so bad, is it?’ The heart bobbed its head, like an employee who doesn’t quite agree yet nods to a rather overbearing boss.
The workout didn’t have the happy zing of Zumba but it offered the comfort of routine and as I began to gather speed on the treadmill and lifted heavier weights for longer counts the sense of achievement kept me going. Just as a a girl gives up the rush of a first crush for the sedate love and care of a married life, I began to settle down to my gym routine.

But it’s never easy

Right across from where i exercise there runs a Zumba class. Each time the door opens a waft of my favourite music floats out. As I watch the girls through the glass walls, twirling and jumping, I mentally go over the familiar well-loved moves along with them and my poor beleaguered heart feels a little squeeze.
In that moment the treadmill seems the drabbest thing on earth no matter that I’m running on it like I’ve never run before.
And I am beginning to feeling like that long-suffering employee who is finally deciding to hand in notice to his boss, like the woman who decides to give up her marriage to rush back into the arms of her first love.
The problem is – there is no overbearing boss, no boring husband – there is just me and my not-so-good knees.
My one hope now is that the vitamin tablets would have worked and the strengthening exercises would have done their bit. And then perhaps I can have a bit of both worlds. On a more serious note, if you have pledged your life to to exercise it pays to listen to your heart.
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