A Mother’s Intuition

I never thought I would write about this but I was compelled to. It has happened too many times to ignore it. When somebody starts about mother-child bond, I always found it too bollywood-ish to deal with (this was before I had Mimi). Usually I am kind and listen to it all but passively. The other times, I simply have no patience for such cock and bull stories. I recall the times when my mum strictly warned me about doing something and I would never listen to her. It always ended badly. I attributed that ability of hers, to her experience in life and all that concerns it. Ofcourse, I know that she always has my best interests in mind and perhaps at that moment it may not look like it. Away from home as a student and then as a working professional, I began to really see that her ability had transcended geographies. There were times when she called me in the middle of the night to know how am doing and that used to be time when I was terribly sick. It used to freak me out since I would have deliberately kept this from her since I would not have liked her getting upset. But how in the world did she manage to do it? It comforted and shocked me at the same time. I kept reasoning it as being a lucky guess. She claims that she just knows since I am her child.

Fast forward and now I am a mum. I feel like a novice even after 22 months of handling my child. I feel like everyday she throws something new at me that catches me off guard. I am not a natural at it like my mum or many of you, I must confess. But things have happened where I have started to feel that a mother-child bond is more than just about experience. Sure, I know Mimi better than I knew her 10 or 12 months back. I know her general pattern of behaviour but she is growing every second in every possible way. That makes it important for me to unlearn and then relearn all over again. To cut the chase, I am writing this post merely to solicit advice and comfort out of knowing that it does happen to others also. I have to know and its important to me and that is the reason why am writing this post at 5 am in the morning inspite of having slept only at 2 a.m.

Mimi has this habit of sleeping only at the edge of the bed. Yes, she still sleeps with us in our bed. She has a cot of her own, but she wouldn’t prefer sleeping there. Sometimes I feel, it is more for my comfort that I let her do so. Usually she is fine. Well almost always she fine. But today, early morning at 4:30 a.m I dreamt that she was about to fall. In a matter of seconds I leaned down at the foot of our bed, to pick her up even before she touched the ground. I still hadn’t opened my eyes when I held her close to ease my racing heart. She got miffed by the little disturbance but soon fell asleep. I couldn’t get a wink after that. So I decided to do this post. This has happened so many times before and I kept attributing this to reflex but don’t you have to be awake for your reflexes to be active? I usually get these sights about her when I am asleep and see it very clearly even before it has happened. My nerves refuse to rest after that. These dreams/sights are usually concerning her safety and overall well-being.

This morning, I decided to google about this and found numerous stories and certain grave  ones too- ones that became a matter of life and death. A mother’s intuition saving her children’s lives. Extraordinary indeed!! Research suggests that a mother’s top 5 anxieties are all children-related and these dreams stem from these anxieties. I have also come to believe that Mothers have an incredible radar when it comes to her children. Even in those rare occasions that I am away from her I am constantly thinking about her. I begin to feel disturbed if something unpleasant has happened when I am away.

So that’s my story about my bond with my daughter. I would want to know stories about similar experiences, if you may care to share.

Living the Guilt – Free Life!

Mimi turned 20 months two days ago. I missed her so much because on each of her monthly birthdays I always make plans to celebrate. I bake, cook, and do something special to make it memorable. I am in London these days searching for employment and am missing her like crazy. It’s like falling in love all over again, like one of my close mommy friends suggested. I pine for her, miss her that it seems sometimes impossible to breathe and it doesn’t bother me that it could be entirely one-sided.

When I tell people that I have travelled to London and would be here for a while in my bid to search for employment, I get gasps of horror and unsolicited advice on how it wasn’t the best decision on my part to leave my child in the custody of somebody else. Here the somebody else in question are my own parents, the same set who raised me. If anything at all, I should be more than relieved to beget their support and kind co-operation while I try to kick-start my career. Being a mum is a package deal which consists extending yourself beyond you might have never deemed possible and being /feeling/ made to feel guilty about everything that you do or do not do.

I kept procrastinating this post because I felt I was making a big ado about nothing. But it was when the final straw was plucked and placed neatly outside the realm of my tolerance that I decided to do this post. I found myself justifying my travel to everybody which was not at all necessary. So some self correction was in order. To put it down in words like this helps me get things back into perspective.

When I took up blogging and put up posts at the rate of 2-3 posts per week depending on how inspired I felt, I got a few pats and most of the time some flak stating how I was wasting my time and not investing in my daughter. After all, wasn’t that the purpose of quitting my job and staying at home. I didn’t care and trudged along without caring much because the joy I felt on expressing via the written word was new to me. Appreciation followed from mommy batchmates, colleagues and they felt I was resounding their sentiments precisely. So I was encouraged to keep at it. Since the flak came from known quarters, it did hurt sometimes but I had already sorted it out in my head. I knew that I had given up my work by choice but that didn’t mean I didn’t want a window to the outside world. Being in Bahrain, made things more difficult since the only adult interaction I had day in and day out was with my husband. I sought refuge in my blog and comments that I got through each post. It was this two-way (and on somedays one way) communication that helped me figure out so many things about me unknown to me. The supportive comments from friends who were in the same kind of boat made me resolute and built my conviction on how I was raising my child. There was so much learning coming in and I was able to share my two cents (however underconfident)

There’s this constant tug of war that goes on between how it is inappropriate to spend on self when you have a toddler at home. You are constantly scrutinized and your mommy abilities put to test when questions like, ” Has she not started walking yet?”, “Has she not started speaking yet?”, “Doesnt she do puzzles?”, and when the answer to all if it is negative, you realized you have committed a gruesome crime. You are then made to feel guilty about all the potential time you “wasted” sitting on the internet doing what you were doing. Surely writing a blog is not more important than making sure you child starts speaking extempore before she completes 18 months?
For most I kept my mouth shut and did what I had to do. It would have been nothing less than blasphemy had I divulged that I was only mildly ambitious for my daughter.

My parenting involved being interactive right at her level which would mean playing hide and seek with her, building blocks with her, dancing with her on bollywood music etc. I would only prod till the time I thought it was doing some good. The moment I found that her interest was fleeting, I just let her go to do what she wanted to. Afterall she too has priorities charted out. To her, at 18 -19-20 months, playing with her building blocks, watching the nursery rhymes, pulling out clothes from the cupboard were more important and enjoyable than counting 1 to 10. Even admist all this distraction, she managed to learn 1,2 and 3 and instantly recognizes them when she sees them on number plates of cars. I think that is a fantastic achievement.
Some of the significant people in her life have already decided what was going to grow up to be and I would be wasting my breath, if I were to explain to them that it should entirely be upto her.
I know amidst all the time I wasted blogging I did try to teach her a few basic things which I felt would be the tools she would really need. I taught her some sensitivity – she would immediately show concern if you are hurt and be by your side caressing your forehead, till she perceives you are feeling better. I taught her to comprehend the changes in my tone- she instantly knows when I am serious and when she needs to stop doing something that is annoying or disturbing the environment.
For most parts I treat her like an adult speaking to her as I would to another grown up person. I try to get down to her level as much as I can while I speak with her. She is a smart child and instantly gets the drift of what I want to convey. Though by our Indian standards, she hasn’t start speaking in sentences yet, but it doesn’t worry me as she will in no time, I am sure. By nature, she is a very social child and smiling and acknowledging people in her vicinity comes naturally to her. I didn’t have to make any effort to establish any of that.

So that is the kind of progress we have made in spite of my ravages on the internet, joining some book club and wasting all the time. I am pretty pleased with my progress. Isn’t that really important?

So I have decided to lead a guilt free life where I am not going to be bothered about people would think of me spending so much time browsing, watching porn or whatever it is that they think I am doing.

Blogging has given me the support and the reason to keep my sanity when I was pushed into this entirely new world of parenting. I needed a window which when I opened enabled me to breathe some fresh air. Blogging ensured that I met some like-minded people and that we learnt so much from each other. My writing has improved (atleast I would like to think so) and it has given me some confidence when I felt my brain freeze due to zero mental stimulation.

Getting back to the job front is going to be difficult and so is the tug of war of how much focus on career would be good enough? Should I work full-time, part-time, work from home or not work at all or search for something entirely different? All these questions plague me! For most parts I was worried what everybody would think because the kind of profile I had before I quit included a lot of travelling and I stood better chances of getting similar profiles only. If I were to travel like before, would it mess up my family life? How am I going to balance? A huge compromise is in order or should I just take things as they come?

This is what I think about while tossing and turning in bed at night.

But now after giving it a lot of thought, I have decided to take things as they come and then tweak it to suit my circumstances. Isn’t that the most logical thing to do. You can plan all that you want but external factors aren’t always going to be in your favour. Considering all this, I am not going to put one more constraint about what people will think about me, if I start working full-time. I think I have enough on my platter to worry about and manage.

To this thought I say CHEERS and would go out in the evening to treat myself with a cone of ice cream. While I slurp and devour the ice cream I shall miss Mimi all the more.

The Insolent Child

My daughter turned 1 and a half, a few days ago. Since I am at my mum’s right now, she had made sadya ( Kerala style feast) to celebrate her 18th month birthday and her homecoming. My daughter slurped on the payasam ( rice pudding) and splashed some everywhere she sat. Later that day, I was speaking with a friend over the phone who wished my daughter a happy 18th month birthday. She jokingly remarked, “Now you have only a little time before she hits the terrible twos“.  At this, I most innocently asked what that meant. She explained patiently that children become insolent as they are in the process of developing  minds of their own. They do not take heed to what their parents tell them and no amount admonishment would make any difference to their demeanour.

After her phone call, I noticed Mimi sprawled on the tiled floored, make a face and demanding something from her grandfather, My dad, being the doting grandfather that he is, obliged her. It was then that it occurred to me that this has become a norm with Mimi. She seemed to resort to such blackmailing tactics – sprawling on the floor, crying and kicking, pushing me away, when I try to comfort her, sometimes even biting and scratching. It seemed that my daughter had prematurely already entered the terrible twos phase. Where did that affectionate, ever abiding baby go? The one that giggled and laughed when I told her to stay away from something perilous and came running to me in my outstretched arms. That baby has grown up, taken things in her stride and operated in a calculated way. She has figured and singled out significant ones who would do all that she wanted at that very instant. Her current favourite is my dad – her grandfather.

Always the one to plan ahead ( I bid the spontaneous side of me  good-bye, as soon as I become a mother), I started to think of various tantrum-interventions. How was I going to tackle her misbehaviour if she planned to do a public show-down. Would I resort to talking to her, try to explain things to her and simply hug her till her angry surges were distracted. Or would I resort to more disciplinarian resorts such as spanking and scolding? Such questions nagged till I tried to buried them with other thoughts about the happenings in Bahrain. If you have read my older post you would know that we had to flee Bahrain because of the civil unrest. But now things have pretty much settled down but emotions continue to simmer, I hear.

On an impulse, I imagined the the King of Bahrain as the parent and all the angry protestors as his wards. As a patriarch, he did what he could do best to control the situation which threatened his legacy. But questions such as what means did he apply to protect his interests and whether it was right on his part to completely squash his unarmed opposition with might of burrowed arms continue to haunt. I totally understand, it is a way more complex than I am intending to potray here. There were other external influences that made him take certain decisions that would curtail the economic and other damage already done. Should he have adopted another way via opening all channels of communication? Would that have helped if his untrusting wards refused obstinately to respond to his dialogue? What was he to do under these circumstances? If he had let his control slip, it would have meant he was weak and unable to hold his own. So many questions would have plagued him, I am sure. Like a parent, he would have had sleepless nights, thinking of all possible solutions to the problem at hand.

This also took me back to the conversation I had with mum when she confessed that according to her, my teenage years were the most difficult for her. She shudders to recall the number of times, I would have said, I hated her for reasons unknown. My guess is the protestors were behaving like a bunch of teenagers ( from the King’s perspective) who think they have been harmed, denied and ignored for a long time. These demands may be real or perceived, but the reality is the people of Bahrain feel so, hence not all was right.  This juxtaposition is again an exaggeration from my side, but well, just for the sake of a debate, we can assume it to be fair.

Drawing parallels like this can only mean the amount of thought I am giving to a situation that concerns me. It may be real or perceived, much like I suggested before.

So what would I do when my daughter behaves irrationally ( mm, she is expected to behave like that because she is a toddler) ? Like the King, should I tie her down, suppress her and punish her insolence, so that she doesn’t speak up or act funny again? What are my choices? Well, according to me, choices are aplenty. How I exercise them would make a world of a difference to how Mimi would grow up and respond to various situations. It would define the relationship that I am going to have with her. I feel I should let her act the way she does and try to understand why she is doing that. Be more open and receptive to her extreme emotions and enjoy the learning curve. But in my case, the ratio is very simple ;1:1 while for the King is 1: many ++++. So his problem is complicated manifold. Still the least he could do is be a responsible parent and try to listen to his people. Know what ails them and do the necessary to assuage the hurt.

Most of the times, I have realized Mimi throws a tantrum only because I wouldn’t let her be a part of what I was doing at that moment. It could be baking a cake or watching tv or even surfing the internet. She feels ignored and kicks her feet to draw my attention. All I have to do is to listen to what she has to say ( all gibberish but full of emotion) and take her in my arms. She then does some cookie dough testing for me, helps me dust the flour off my dress and peek through the oven glass from time to time to see the cake rising.

The King has a similar choice too – To open his heart and let his people in.

All thoughts in this post are mere ramblings and such parallels may deem illogical to a rational mind. But every now and then my thoughts turn to the casualities that have occured in Bahrain and I feel a deep sense of remorse. Yes remorse, though I have done nothing wrong. But remorse and sadness are emotions that one feels when it is realized that one is helpless in this situation. In the 10 months that I lived in Bahrain, a new found attachment  envolopes me and I miss Bahrain from the bottom of my heart. I don’t understand politics and have zero opinions about the whole thing but all I am concerned is about the families affected by this clash. I feel that their memories will forever carry the scars if the means adopted to restore security and peace don’t change.

I also dread to go back because I hear the Pearl Roundabout doesn’t stand there anymore. That iconic landmark has been replaced by an insignificant traffic light.

All of this rambling finally brings me to this conclusion, Parenting is very tough and the only way harmony would prevail, is by taking the middle path.

Are you listening, King of Bahrain?

Lessons from Mimi

Mimi is my daughter.

She is my precious bundle, my joy and my pride. Even her littlest of accomplishments mark such milestones in my head that I had to start this blog in her honour. While I have tried to teach her what new mums usually teach their toddlers – say a few words, to walk, to help recognize things and people, but it pales in comparison to what she has taught me without even making an effort.

Just yesterday a friend of mine recalled a quote he read from somewhere, “A child gives birth to a Mother”.  This wonderful quote couldn’t be truer. This got me thinking about how much I have evolved (because change is a small word in this context) and turned into this balanced person who views life in a very different light now. I do not want to sound cliché when I remark that people who do not have children now have no idea what a child can do to your life. But I say this with all the right, because there was a day when I was on the other side of the fence scratching my head over how people manage with children and how care-worn their lives had become. How wrong I was!

Two days ago, I received a call from one of my recruiters that I couldn’t make the cut for the position I sought within their organization. Before I received this call, I was riding high on optimism and had little doubt about why they wouldn’t want me. You see, if you know me, you’d realize this feeling hadn’t stemmed out of over-confidence but more from naive optimism. Undoubtedly, I was crushed as I had already started day dreaming about working and living that fast life with a toddler in tow. I wanted to be that successful career mum who had perfected the art of family and work life balance. I cried for a bit since I do not take rejections and failures easily.  My lovely husband comforted me with his kind words but they did not do much to soothe my hurt feelings.  Meanwhile my daughter, Mimi, sensed all wasn’t right and came to me and started to do all that she would do to try to make me laugh. Ran around in circles, performed her famous fake laugh routine and then came over and rubbed her nose against mine. I managed to smile through this and then got up to do my chores. I suddenly heard a thud and realized Mimi had had her customary fall from somewhere. I rushed to the living room to see her sprawled on the floor but when she saw me; she smiled and got up on her feet instantly. She was standing on the dining table and had slipped.  Almost immediately she scampered onto the dining table again and tried to jump on to the sofa adjacent to it. She slipped and fell again. I do not know, what I was thinking! I was numb and felt stupid for not protecting her. But she got up again, rubbed her knees and smiled. She climbed back on the table (this time, I stood near her) to jump again and this time she succeeded. She was so happy and thrilled that she said, “Amme, Ammme, Amme!!” squealing all the same. What she probably meant was, “Did you just see what I did? Wasn’t that the coolest thing?” As scared as I was, I felt extremely proud of her endeavour. But the thought that stayed with me for the rest of the day was, she did not give up. She did not care that she had failed and fallen twice, hurting herself both the times. She did not care about being watched while she performed this daring feat. There was a resolve in her eyes and she seemed unaffected by her failed attempts.

Instantly, I felt better. I did not have to give up. This wasn’t the last organization on earth that I had applied to. There must be so many others who would want me.

This was one such incident that helped me trail back to all that tiny, beautiful yet vital lessons that my daughter has taught me.

She taught me to sit straight with my spine absolutely erect. This has given me great relief from my back aches. It may sound very trivial but small changes like this do a great deal to bring a huge change in posture and how you feel about yourself.

She taught me to not eat even a spoonful extra, once she is done with her meal. Even if it is her most favourite thing in the world, she would pout and not let me give her a single spoonful when she had had enough. This is one thing I am trying hard to implement because it would help me curb my over eating. I even try to emulate her eating pattern by eating as often (definitely not her portions though) as she does. That itself warrants that I do not over eat at a single meal (barring weekend eat outs)

Finally, the most important lesson of all- To have fun all the time. I know for a fact that with the passage of time, there will be more lessons from Mimi and I will not forget to document them. I want her to grow up and read these chapters from her life. This would be a way to thank her, for these “Pearls of Wisdom”