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A Bittersweet Birthday Note

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I wrote this note to my son for his fourth birthday, and I hereby dedicate it to parents everywhere…. You make me angrier than anyone I’ve ever been angry with. You make my heart melt more than anyone on this earth ever has. My heart is so full of love for you that it scares me… how much more can I love you? Yet when you push all my wrong buttons, I’m a helpless mess of a parent. You don’t hold my hand as often as you did when you were a tiny baby still learning to walk; yet if I am out of your sight for too long, you search for me frantically. It is bittersweet that you’re growing up, and it will always be. On the one hand I feel proud of how slowly and steadily you’re getting more independent each day, and on the other hand it tugs at my heart that you need your parents less and less as time goes. I can already envision you growing up into a rebellious bullheaded teenager, and that scares me. But I also believe that the little loving heart of yours will soften you with time. I can’t
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Imperfect Days And A Beautiful Life

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My days used to be peaceful. There was no yelling, a little fighting ‘n arguments, and a lot of fun. I was never running late to anywhere. I had ample time to work, fulfil social commitments, and then relax too. My husband and I used to go out on impromptu dinners, impromptu social visits, and had people over at our place all the time. Planning a road trip was not worrisome. We used to watch all genres of movies and series without worrying about what time it was, or how long the movie is, or what language is used. Shopping was not an anxiety-inducing experience. My house mostly looked spic and span, decorated with lovingly bought decorative items, and dust was rarely seen anywhere. We used to complete reading the books that we started. We had flexibility and freedom when it came to choosing and cooking meals. Socialising was never embarrassment and guilt-ridden experience that it often is now. Going to the mall was not a panic inducing nightmarish event. All of this turned opposite whe
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When I Made My Baby Cry

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The particular incident I’m going to talk about is related to toilet training my then-20-months-old. I was given advices to begin his toilet training from when he was 9 months old. I had been told of numerous examples of how if you don’t begin it soon, the child would be dependent on the diaper for a long time. So, I bought a baby pot, and tried to begin my ordeal named- toilet training. It is pertinent here to admit that I’m a little bit of a cleanliness freak, so the thought of the ‘accidents’, which are a natural part of this training, was a major deterring force for me. Still, I powered through. It didn’t last, though, because my son refused and resisted going for it on the pot. I read numerous articles, and decided that perhaps I should wait until he is ‘ready’. He was in a phase of not-sitting-in-one-place-for-more-than-one-minute, and no amount of cajoling and entertaining could keep him in the pot. Good sense prevailed and I let it go for some more time, till I felt he was ‘rea
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Because I’m A Mother

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 Sometimes I cry because I’m overwhelmed with my duties and tasks as his mother. But he manages to make my heart melt anyway. If he catches me weeping in a weak moment, he rushes to me and gently caresses my cheeks. He doesn’t leave my side and keeps stroking my cheek gently until I smile, which assures him that his Mumma is fine. He is demanding, stubborn, and is asserting his independence more and more each day. But his innocence never fails to make me chuckle. He is my challenge, but he is also the source of my joy. He is the obstacle in my race of accomplishments, but he is the one who has lent meaning to my life. It is due to him that I call myself a ‘proud mother’. He is the reason I was born again. So, is motherhood a day-to-day glorious affair? The answer is- no. Quite the contrary actually. The phase I’m currently in: his “twos”, are so tough. Man, do I want them to be over soon! Though I hate to feel this way, there truly are some days when it all feels like I’m being punish
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