Tag Archives: Two-Year Olds

That blessed pms

I don’t know which sitcom it was I watched once when I was living in New York, but the woman in it said something that I can never forget: she said, that in a month she was either pre-menstrual, menstrual or post-menstrual and had just about one normal day in a month! I could say the same right now.

See, I was getting very good with the spot-jogging and all that, till, yes, till I got the blues and blues in the winter are bluer than blue, so I went from I-am-going-to-be Cindy-Crawford kind of feeling to I-want-to-eat-all-the-chocolate-in-the-world-who-am-I-kidding-with-the-Cindy-
Crawford-stuff feeling!

I crave sweets when I get my period, no wait, I crave sweets, before and after too. And the spot-jogging kind of stops too. So, you’re back to ignoring the weighing scale like it’s some monster in your bathroom, daring you to stand on it. Sigh.

You know what else I read the other day? that in some women, the pre-menopause stress starts twenty years in advance! Ok, so that was good to know. In short, if you’re looking forward to menopause, you may well be insane by the time you get there.

So, my bone to pick with God would be this (when I meet him/her): Surely there was another way to do all this baby stuff?? I mean look at it: you brood, you bleed, you ache, you feel unexplained depression, then you have a baby and it tears your vagina apart, (I didn’t take an epidural by the way, don’t ask me why) then you finally, after years of turmoil, get to menopause, but, wait, it ain’t over, because now start the hot flashes and God knows what else. By the time it’s all over, you’re sixty.

Again, surely there was another way!

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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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Getting into shape

When I was twenty, I told myself I’d never look like a sloppy mom. And though I still am not sloppy, I am not what I’d like to be either. I am not fat, but I am not thin. I pretty much look like the mom who has to constantly wear the right clothes to look thinner than she is, and the day a lot of her blacks and other favorite clothes are in the laundry, that’s the day she would rather be in her pajamas at home.

But, I now want to move beyond dependency on the wardrobe. I want to be thin, so anything I wear would pass the am-I-looking-fat test. I mean, I want to be at the stage where there is no need for that side view test. I want to be thin, and I am going to work for it.

Yes,I’ve said it before, we all have. But then I’ve done it too. I just let go a little in all the post-pregnancy period, which is normal I guess for a lot of women. But now, as my daughter turns two this month, I am going to take a few baby steps into weight loss. At this point I have to say that there was one reason why I didn’t really try this before, and that was wanting a second baby. I felt, I’d really get into shape after the second – once and for all!

But, it does not work that way.I do want a second and it probably will still happen, but I am not putting things on hold anymore.

I’ve been working out a little, twenty-minutes spot-jogging. The last time I did this I lost a lot of weight. Once you start, it’s not that tough, twenty minutes a day for the first week and then up up to forty later, with the stretching etc.  I don’t even want to tell myself that I will do it everyday, just when I can – four days a week is good enough to start.

It’s important to set realistic targets and what happens then is that once you lose a little, you  get encouraged and try to be more regular.

So  now I start, will keep you all posted.

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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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Am I crazy to want another one?

I agree that my blog name does little for my case of wanting another child, but, if we forget that for a moment, then I am wondering if I am crazy to want another one?

I’ve talked about this before, and as time passes I feel it more and more, but a second child, I feel, will ease things for me in the longer run. I look at my sister, who has only one child, and she is all the time clinging to her and sulking and the rest of it. She now even asks my sister why she has no siblings and wants to know why she’ll never have any.

I don’t want to be in that situation. My gynecologist said it quite well when I had my daughter – she said: “you have the first one for yourself and the second one for the first one”. And it’s true.

But, I am scared. What if I can’t handle it? ( I mean look at all the mommyrage stuff!). My mother seems to think it’ll make it better and I am divided. But, I can’t sit on it for too long, am not getting younger, so it’s something that’s either going to happen now, or never. Even from a work perspective, it’s better I get it over with now, than get back to work and again…aahh..sounds exhausting already!

I wish you could take turns with men, they have one and you have one. Except can you imagine a man in labor? A cut finger is just about what they can handle. No, I think they won’t survive that. There’s a reason God made women bear the children.

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Ain’t no cakewalk

Parenting, no let me correct this, mommying is no cake walk. Really. It’s lovely to be a mom, let me slip that in first before I vent (yes, it makes me feel less guilty). But, it’s trying too and it’s funny how mothers don’t want to admit that. I know so many women who feel this way but they would rather sweep things under the carpet than admit it. Not that I am asking them to tell the world, but they’d rather be in denial even for themselves. I guess it makes them feel better..to each his own. I vent it here and it makes me feel better!

Actually, mommyrage is not about the child, it’s about the situation the mother finds herself in, the challenges she faces (esp the first time) and the little support she gets. The mother, at the end of the day, takes the brunt of it, my mother did and I do too. It’s just the way it is and it’s not changing anytime soon. Ok, here I must admit that my situation is a whole lot better than my mother’s was, but the crux of it is the same.

So, like I said in my last post that I was under the weather and needed some down time – so I guess this is all coming from there..I know it’s only the flu, but right now I need my mommy, and my daughter needs hers.

Cough. Cough. Sneeze. Sneeze.

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