Tag Archives: sleep

Have moved the kids to their room..

For some this may seem too late, way too late. Older one is six, younger ones are two, and they are sleeping in their room tonight, for the first time. For me though, it’s come too soon.

But, I’ve done it – for many, not necessarily related reasons. And I feel a bit empty tonight.

I’ve done this out of my own free will (despite the resistance of my older daughter) and even felt excited about getting a bit of my life back – little pleasures of reading in bed, not talking in hushed tones, watching a film after the kids sleep, and of course, “couple time” with the hubby. But, right now, at this moment as I write this and the room is so empty that it almost has en echo, my heart feels heavy. I miss them. Terribly.

They are right across the room from me and I’ve been to their room countless times already – looking at their sleeping, angelic faces, kissing their lovely foreheads and tender cheeks, standing like a shadow staring blankly at the darkness, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dark so I can see their curled-up forms, adjusting their blankets, checking if the AC is not too cold….I can safely say that I will not get much sleep tonight.

I almost feel guilty for doing this. Try as I might, I cannot shake away that feeling. And I know that this is a bit of a cultural thing. In India, it is perfectly normal for kids to sleep in the same room as their parents till, well, let’s just till very very late into their lives. I have friends (though these are mainly those who have a single child) who’ve not moved out even 10 year old kids yet. And that’s not frowned upon here, in the least.

There is this mad urge I have to bring them back, to admit to them that the experiment has failed miserably! I know I won’t do it, if only for the fact that I’ve moved a lot of furniture around, made many adjustments around the house etc etc. But I now wish I’d waited a little more. Because this is irreversible. This first physical separation is just the beginning of many many separations and I wish I had not hurried it.

I know that I may be over-dramatizing this a bit, but it’s late and I am in a reflectory kind-of mood, the kind that the silence of the night brings on. My mind is in over-drive and I am willingly letting it loose to make all sorts of haphazard connections between this one little change and my issues of not being able to let go. (looked at deeply enough, though, there is a connection, is there not?)

I need a nightcap. But, far from aiding, that runs the risk of letting my thoughts wander into dark corners of my mind and doing some notorious digging. No, I don’t need that. I guess, I should just sleep. Yes, that’s what I need to do, that’s the only way I’ll stop thinking about it, at least consciously.

So, am going to call it a night, with one last peek into the room, one last kiss and to do my bit for the benefit of the tooth-fairy. Yes, she’s going to visit tonight, to take my daughter’s first tooth and leave her a Doraemon bed sheet – for her new bed in her new room..

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Birthdays and the waste of it..someone stop it!

Sundays are not what they used to be – lazy days in pajamas with the kids; pouring over the papers over endless cups of tea; radio playing merry songs – no, not even close. Sundays are now hurried days when you get up, get dressed, dress the kid/s, and head off for a birthday party, wondering on the way weather the gift you decided to buy was appropriate enough, because some people give return gifts that are more expensive than the one you took them!

At one level, I want to say “lump it”, I’ll do what I can and not worry about how elaborate people want to make their kids’ parties. And I do do that. I usually don’t worry too much about it. But then you get to the party and you see the effort that’s been put in (not to mention the money) – electric trains, cars, big bouncies, catered food, tattoo artists..etc etc..and your daughter looks at you and says, “mama I want a big train at my birthday too”. Then you wonder why you came? Or, rather, you wish someone would stop this madness.

I want to go back to the days when a birthday meant some chocolate cake and playing treasure hunt at home.

Where are all the sane people? Someone stop this. Maybe I should.

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A man just does not have it in him, or does he?

Is it that men, well, men in general, are made differently and so when it comes to childcare they do it in a way that makes moms say “I’d rather do that myself”. Or is that just a really clever way of getting out of something? I mean, just do it badly, and you’re on the couch watching TV while the mommy feeds the screaming baby!

I think it’s a combination. Men don’t have the patience. It takes me one hour to feed my daughter, and I do it patiently because her eating is something I am kind of very particular about, like most moms.

But, for my husband, if she resists, then he cannot cajole her, he just does not have it in him. But there’s another thing, that he does not think it’s necessary..and that’s where I differ. I think it is.

Apart from everything else, look at the chain reaction it starts: no dinner = hungry baby= waking up in the middle of the night for milk = sleep deprived mommy = crabby mommy.

And crabby not so much because she woke up, but because she woke up since she ate no dinner, because the one day that the mommy had something to do, the daddy could not try and feed her!

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An angel when she sleeps..

All that mommyrage is only when she’s awake. Right now, she’s fast asleep in her cot and I am taking a breather! Am too tired to be stressed and too relieved to be angry!

I should be sleeping, yes I know, every bone in my body is telling me that. But I want some mommy time, I want to blog – read and write, then tuck into bed with a book – God, it’s been ages since I did that – read a book in peace. And don’t even talk about movies – to be able to sit in front of a dvd player interrupted? Dream on. The only time we do that is when we’re watching Barnie, man I could sing “I love you” in my sleep. In fact I do. It’s insane but just as I am about to sleep that song starts to play in my mind – it drives me crazy..I just can’t seem to stop it! It’s like that bad joke someone told me once about a pink elephant, where you are asked to think of an elephant but not a pink one, and guess what, I could ONLY picture pink ones!

The human mind, your own human mind is a mystery. But right now I am enjoying this mindless rambling because it’s something I am doing without having to say “just let mama do this one thing, mama says please”.

Sigh.

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