Category Archives: mommyrage

August 26, 2010 · 5:17 pm

Call me a cranky old crone..

Recently went for a birthday party of a five year old girl, Hawaiian theme. Mini wedding, really, that’s what it was and it irritated me. Actually, it did more than that, it made me sick. No, not the scale of things, or the fact that it was a theme party (I gave in to my four year old and had a princess theme earlier this year, so no, that was not an issue; lots of other things were), but the fact that the mother felt the need to have this tawdry, lavish affair that looked good but lacked substance. For one, there was a lucky draw where all the kids were given numbers and then some of those got prizes. Can you imagine a bunch of four year old’s waving their numbers to get a gift and then the disappointment after that?  As I was walking towards the bouncy, I heard one mother console a little girl about not getting a gift. I know that we must be able to train our kids to handle disappointments and tell them that it’s ok if they don’t win and all that good stuff, I do tell my daughter that, but, still I don’t think it’s a really good idea to have a lucky draw at a birthday party, which, for me, is more about the kids having a good time and going home happy.

But more than anything else, what I absolutely despised, was the pinata, or, what we in India call the “khoi bag” – absolutely despicable stuff, I hate it, hate it, hate it.  At least the way it’s done at birthday parties here in India. In theory it may have been a good idea – have a bag full of goodies, burst it and have the kids collect them all, happy happy. Except, not really. It’s just one of those things that do not translate well in reality. At all. Basically the way it’s done here is that the bag is filled with goodies, elevated and then burst, leading to absolute chaos and mayhem as kids scramble, push, trample over each other to collect the booty. It brings out the worst in human behaviour, and with this all-is-fair-in-looting-khoi-bag kind of culture there is such jostling that my daughter gets extremely disturbed, and yet wants to reap the goodies. As a result, she begs me to help, as do many other kids and there is much gnashing of teeth and maids, mothers, kids (ranging from ages four to fifteen), compete for Ben Ten pencils, Hannah Montana stickers, candies, assorted Disney nic-nacks, bubble bottles etc etc.  And the funny thing is that once we get the stuff, my daughter, much like the rest of the kids, does not truly care about it and it all gets lost in the brimming-with-toys Ikea baskets in her play room. Yet, at that moment, she wants it and wants to reap as much as possible. Like I said, it brings out the distasteful side of human behaviour and can be well avoided.

Then, there was the Shakiraesque Hawaiin dress that this five year old was wearing, or rather not wearing. Come on mother, take a look at your kid when you dress her. There is a fine line between cute and cheap, very fine at times, but you have to watch it. You make a five year old wear a bra like pink satin halter top and a skirt under the navel for a birthday? Jesus, is that your idea of cute? Then when she’ll be sixteen and want to wear the same stuff, you’d have a problem with it.

It was a boring party where a lot of money had been spent (upwards of $1500) , a LOT of money in India, and the result was that kids didn’t have much to do, with no games to engage them.  I miss the good old days when birthday parties meant treasure hunts and home made sandwiches. I didn’t do that for my four year old but did do it for my twins this year, as they turned one. And I can tell you, (at the risk of  blowing my own trumpet) it was a great party, the kids had a blast and the mommies (daddies are exempt from these affairs!) sat around chatting and picking on finger food..yes, that is what birthday parties are meant to be like and if my older daughter didn’t want to invite half the world and more for her birthday, I’d do hers at home too..

I know I am in the minority here, because most parties I attend are lavish, over-the-top affairs. It’s amazing how much money a certain segment of people have in India and how they are willing to spend it. Another birthday bash (four year old again) I went for was eerily similar to the Hawaiin theme one, where the birthday girl (all of four) was dressed top-to-toe, much like her mother, aunt and assorted clone-like female relatives, in designer stuff. When her grandmother commented on her dress she chirped “it’s Burberry” and ran off, while the granny went weak in the knees recounting the retort to anyone who was patient enough to listen, like she was some child prodigy who had  recited a line from ‘The Merchant of Venice!’.

I could  go on, but I think I’ll stop. I’ve vented enough and I feel better. I do. Plus, babies are asleep and I’d better turn in too..

Blogging helps and I should do it more often. Sooooo therapeutic!

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July 7, 2010 · 5:36 pm

The Trade Off…

We’ve been taught to believe that we must, mostly, live by the choices we make. By and large, I try and follow this belief. But when you’ve made a choice between two paths in life (mommies, you know what I am talking about), both of which you wanted, then it is quite impossible not to feel regret, even if in passing or once in a while.

Yes, I made the choice to be at home with the kids, yes I did want more than one kid and had them fully knowing that getting back to work would only become more difficult. But I still did it. Why? Because I wanted to. I wanted this more than a life in the corporate world, no matter how fulfilling. True. Does that then disqualify me from any thoughts about the world I abandoned?  I don’t think so. Many men, however, disagree. Their reasoning is, you chose it , so now live with it and be happy. How easy it is to say this when you have never had to make that difficult decision.

Before I go on, I must add that not all men think this way, that this thinking is not restricted to men only and there are men who have decided to be at home and let their wives keep the home fires burning. But all of these are exceptions. I am talking general here.

So where was I? Yes, the choice. I made the choice, and would do the same again if I could turn back time. But, does that mean that I don’t think about the time my boss called me and offered me a position I would have given my left arm for if I didn’t have children? Of course I do! And here’s the thing; thinking is not without its repercussions. It gets reflected in your mood, in your attitude, your talks. It does for me. But, it passes and soon one gets submerged into domestic life that gives immense joy, which is what you made the trade off for.

Till, you meet someone who asks you what you do. This, for me, is the most uncomfortable part, and I cannot understand why because I am not ashamed to be at home with my kids; but it is. I say housewife (homemaker, if you want to be politically correct, the same thing really, what’s in a name? beats me). The conversation stalls for a minute, then you start talking school, maids, parks, how-smart-today’s’-kids-are, parenting problems, and finally, the weather. Conversation ends, you go home. On the way out you overhear bits and pieces of other conversations in the room that give you a little peep into how different some women’s lives are;  some babe talking about her new, glitzy project, or another go-getter recounting tales of her recent business trip to New York (it’s always New York, sigh, the city I love, the city where I spent many carefree years..), or, for good measure, you also overhear someone talking about her fulfilling work with an NGO in rural India, where, thanks to the indefatigable efforts of her great team, many girls now live a happier life and the village in question has clean drinking water.

It makes me think.  What if? I know my capabilities and am no different really from these women (don’t mean to brag) so what if I’d taken the other path. Where would I be today? Hard to tell I know, but yet, I cannot help but wonder. Then I look at my kids and I these thoughts recede into some deep crevice in my mind, only to surface later, and to be suppressed yet again. It does not, I must add here, lead to discontent, if that’s what it sounds like. It does, however, lead to some restlessness.

I know why I made the trade off, and, like I said, I’d do it again. But I do wish it didn’t have to be that way. I wish there was a way to do both, some lucky women have managed it. I did my bit to try when I had my first child to do this “flexi-timing” thing. Didn’t work. I spoke to my boss, told him that I would deliver my bit, do more than my share, if he’d let me work, partly, from home. He said he loved my work, but could not allow me this,  it would, he was afraid, “set a bad precedent”.

So here I am four years and a two more kids (twins) later, still thinking about the trade off. But when I talk to my sister, who spends her day at the office, she regrets not being there for her daughter, now almost a teenager, who now does not need her as much and has her own life, that’s when I feel good about the choice I made. My evenings are not spent stuck in traffic wondering and pining for my kids, they are spent in the park running around with them. That’s therapeutic.

And not that I’ve given up hope about working again. I may not get a great job after such a long break, that I am quite aware of. But I’ll do something, I keep telling myself (and my mom) that. Someday I’ll strike that wonderful balance between work and home. My education, someday, will be put to good use.

Till then, diapers it is..

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June 1, 2010 · 9:11 am

Drop the baby mama!!

My four year old has been an angel since my twins were born almost ten months ago. She’s been caring and, mostly, patient. That, however, has changed. Was too good to last I think.

It’s happened because of multiple reasons. One, the novelty has kind of faded and she has realized that they are here to stay! Two, and more importantly, the twins are now asserting their will, demanding my attention, crawling into everything, including her toys. She sits down to do a puzzle and they want to grab at it. I can understand her irritation but with the two of them around it is difficult to stop them all the time.

From the beginning I have given 90% of my attention to my older one, just so she does not feel left out. I often leave the twins crying and come to her, but now it’s getting very difficult. She’s become extremely moody (the fact that summer break is on and her mind is idle has compounded the problem!) and tells me not to pick them up. To make matters worse I had  gall-bladder surgery and was away to the hospital for a couple of days. In my absence she cried her heart out and was inconsolable, to the point that I decided to return home a night before I was scheduled to! Am recovering now but cannot do much right now.  But it seems that my leaving turned some switch inside her, she’s sooooooper clingy now, does not want to leave my sight and does not want the twins anywhere near me.

For now, till I have recovered fully, I have moved the poor babies out to the other room with my mom and the maids, and my older one is with me and my husband. But that is going to change soon.  I am handling it, and she does love them too, plays with them a lot, but when it comes to me, she wants me all for herself..sigh..I know it’s something I have to deal with, but ti’s going to take some energy and patience and with just three days having passed since my surgery, I am a little tired and can do without tantrums!

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April 30, 2010 · 12:08 pm

Mama, what colour is God? Is God a man or a woman?

Tough questions to answer, not because I cannot deal with them or explain but because I thought these would come much later, not when she is four. But it only tells you how conscious kids become these days and how early.

I was bathing my four year old and she said that she wondered what colour God was, just out of the blue. Ouch. I said to myself. I was not in the mood for an explanation at that point, had a lot to do, twins(have eight month old twin girls) needed attention, but I didn’t want to just let it go and ward her questions off, not this one. So, briefly, I told her all the right things, to the best of my ability, about colour of the skin not mattering etc etc, about God not being one and of a single colour.  She nodded then added “but lighter is better, isn’t it?” I squirmed, then said “no”,  and patiently told her some more about what mattered more, about good deeds and good human beings rather than superficial things like skin colour. She didn’t questions any more and I am not sure what she took away from our conversation, which I am going to revisit in a few days when I have a little more time to explain better and after, frankly, I’ve given it a thought myself, about what I am going to say!

I know I must be prepared as a parent to face all sorts of questions, and a lot would depend on what I say, so I must be careful. But what disturbed me was the fact that colour of the skin mattered to her, and she could not have picked this up from the house, since I am very particular about such matters and like to say the right stuff in front of the kids. And it’s not like she’s partial to fairer people either, which is why I was surprised and a little upset. This tells you about the limited control you have over what your kid learns and picks up, sooo many factors influence them, and you have to constantly counter or reinforce these, as may deem necessary. Scary.

Parenting is not easy. I just hope I have the answers as the questions come along..

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January 25, 2010 · 11:48 am

My four year old wants a princess birthday. Sigh.

“Mama”, she said in her sweetest voice, “I want a princess birthday”.

My first reaction was to wear my most Et tu, Bruté expression and scream: “nnnooooooooooo not a princess birthday, no no no!!” But motherhood has taught me, or so I like to think, to be patient and not have extreme reactions, even if the situation so demands! So, I took a deep breath, then in as patient a manner as I could, I tried to talk her out of it, to little avail. She was adamant and appeared to have thought it all through. She told me quite plainly that it was her birthday and that she had the right to decide what it would be. Fair, I thought, but did not give my consent. I didn’t want her to know she was winning that argument, I still thought I would give it one last push – try the dirty tricks, you know, incentives et all. It was, however, all in vain. She stood her ground and I caved. So it’s going to be a princess birthday.

Now for the debate.

There are really only two ways of looking at this. One – as a parent you have to, mostly, support your child, or at least give an impression of doing so, so just “go with it”, no matter what your personal views about it are. You might hate the fact that she wants to dress like a princess, have all these pink cut outs all over the place and have a castle cake! But, that is your view and she’s a four year old girl, influenced, unfortunately, by all she sees around her – so lump it mom and give the kid what she wants. She’ll grow out of it anyway in a few years. She’ll be happy that you did this for her. That’s one view.

The other: Nip this in the bud, stop all this pink stuff and start telling her all about mind over matter and all that cerebral stuff. If you give in now, then will you give in to all her demands just so you can be supportive? Tell her nicely; reward her in other ways but this she can’t have. She’ll protest, but eventually she’ll forget about it and be happy with what you do for her. Because, what if this is just the beginning and she does not outgrow all this? What if she actually turns into a princess? Cute now when she’s four, not so cute when she’s fifteen and all she wants to do is dress up. Nip it nip it nip it!

Sigh. I can see both sides, and I did think about it long and hard. But in the end, I decided to let her have it. I did this because I believe that despite her interest in the “princess stuff”, she also likes other kiddy things like playing in the park, doing puzzles, art and craft et all. So, this is a phase and she’ll get over it, if I resist it, she’ll get drawn to it more, so let her get it out of her system – a purge, so to speak. My niece, now eleven, was the same at four. To my sister’s absolute horror she’d dress Barbie dolls all day. Now she’s done a complete 180 degree turn and hates the stuff, in fact she thinks it’s fashionable to hate it, so she does this squirming, puhleez, action when I remind her about her erstwhile obsession. So hopefully, my little one will be the same and then, of course, I’ll balance it by getting her interested in more productive activities; I’ll distract her subtly. Also, a part of me believes that there’s really no harm in dressing dolls, it’s a part of growing up, just like having a play kitchen and cooking imaginary meals, which, by the way, she loves to do too.  In any case I had sort of foreseen this eventuality when she was two and to this end, of creating a balance, had introduced her to Dora – the anti Barbie, someone who wears shorts, puts on sneakers and a backpack and goes exploring. It worked. She had  a Dora birthday last year and adores her – actually thinks that Dora is a real person.

There is, however, one thing that I will not have – a Disney princess birthday! No invitation cards with the four Disney princesses posing together! There are some things where I draw the line – this is one of them!

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September 11, 2009 · 2:50 pm

Twin Girls!

I’ve been away from my blog for too long, have been on bed rest, then had the babies, who are a month old today..so am only writing this quick post to say that I’ve not had a chance to log on in months, but hopefully will be able to do so every now and then from hence on…optimistic (with twins girls and a toddler??), maybe? but hey I need to stay optimistic or I might just lose it!

I am thrilled with the twins, but it’s crazy, unending, constant, constant, constant!!!! I am lucky to be in India and able to afford lots of help – two full time maids – and yet I am on my feet the whole day….

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May 2, 2009 · 11:18 am

The Meltdown.

Terrible twos did someone say? What about terrible threes?? My three year old discovered her screaming abilities when she was two, or perhaps even before, and has been fine tuning that skill ever since. She does not talk anymore, she screams. Most of the time she’s playing teacher and berating us all at home, in the manner, I suspect, her teacher does at school – it’s like she becomes another person when she is role playing.

How do you tell a three year old to stop screaming? It only leads to more hollering and screeching, followed, of course, with the whole lying-on-the-floor-won’t-get-up act. When she does finally, and most reluctantly, lift herself off the ground, her ego is bruised, for she has not been cajoled into silence by mommy, rather she has, most grudgingly, been forced to give up the act on account of being neglected, and because of mommy’s cool do-what-you-want-you-can’t-bait-me-this-way reaction. Once the ego is hurt, that’s it. Tantrums follow – storming out of rooms, sulking, et all.

It settles, eventually, somehow. Then she sleeps, which was part of the problem. It’s a vicious cycle – she gets sleepy, refuses to be put to bed, in fact opposes any subtle signs that could hint of mommy’s secret intent of sending her into dreamland. The sleepier she gets, the more hyper she gets, the more hyper she gets the sleepier she gets and fights it all the more – so it’s a matter of time, of holding out, till the fatigue takes over and she can fight it (and mommy) no more. I then sink into bed with a sigh, worn out by this tussle.

Minutes later I rustle up the energy to get up and change – put on the idiot box for some mindless TV, (father and daughter safely, and mercifully, asleep) but it’s too mindless at times for my liking. I then reach for my book – reading Satyajit Ray’s Feluda stories right now (for those who have not read them, I recommend them highly).

I sink into the book, forget all about the recent histrionics and read till late. I know I should sleep, for tomorrow will be another day – waking up the rascal for school and all that follows, the screaming (again), the I-don’t-wan’t-to-go, the I-got-ouchie, the I-don’t-wan’t-to-bathe, the don’t-comb-my-hair…I know I’ll need the energy for it all. But I enjoy the silence of the night and my book too much to worry about tomorrow..

Sigh.

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