Happy Birthday Blog

Yipee! Yay! Fantastico....ribba-dubba-gazoomba Ganganam style! We are ONE today!

This blog officially celebrates its first birthday - and I would like to take this opportunity to thank you, you and you (because you know there are still just three of us who read it )..No sweat though.

It has been a pretty good year for me (touch - wood, trees, roots, shrubs!! really) and it all pretty much can be traced back to around the time I started this blog. We had just moved house - into a new complex, which greatly improved our quality of living. And by that I do not mean in the social pecking order. It has been good for kidlet, good for me and the spouse in so many different ways. So theres that.

And then there is the positivity that this blog has seemed to signal. The first blog that I ever started back then in 2006 was called 'Suspended Imagination' - you can pretty much imagine how far that could have taken me. Then I went on to a hugely imaginative motherhood blog called 'So the house is a mess' - yes, the truth lies in the point of view. Do you really need to know more about all the other fledgling ideas I had? (Hint : Consumer Research, Design (!)). But even though I still harp on and on about general interest randomness - at least I am having fun doing it - refer to blog address, it is fun times around here :-)

And now for a tiny announcement - and no its really not what you were expecting to hear : I have started a new website - thechildrensdaily.net ! Why and what you ask.

Why? Very simply, since I have been badgering my head around trying to get this freelance writing thing right, I though to myself let me at least start writing something useful which will get me practice and get feedback.

What? All the news a Parent can use is what I am planning to write about. Which means, news and discussions from around the world which can be good to know for parents. Written in bite sized features - you see I have always been a big De Witt Wallace fan.

And that's that then. I would be hugely grateful to you if you could visit the site and leave comments and feedback for me. And that would be the best birthday gift this blog could ask for :-)

Cheerio!

Mamma Baby Mamma

You are a Mom. You are a baby.

My Mom, she still thinks of me the same way like I think about Kidlet. Which essentially means if I don't pick up the phone for more than an hour of her trying (mobile-landline-mobile) there is just cause for panic. Things like naps, school appointments, silent mode are not excuse enough. "But, I was worried about you!" she always gasps, while I roll my eyes on the other end of the line.

And you thought growing up into a mother would make you less of a kid. Tough luck there!

I am my mother's youngest child. She had me when she was 45. I had my baby when I was 27 and am exhausted by parenting already at 32! Where did this woman get the strength to bring a baby into the world at 45 I wonder. And oh, I forgot - I was baby number seven. I ask my Mom sometimes, "Why? Why did you do it". She is totally dismissive of the question - like any doubts never occurred to her.

Now in her late 70's she claims to be tired. I would be surprised if it were otherwise! But that doesn't stop her from pressing on. Each phone call is an exhaustive newsletter of which child and grandchild of hers is doing what. She and my Dad still get into elaborate machinations when any one of us even remotely needs any help. And here I am looking forward to the day Kidlet passes out of college and gets a job.

I look at her and I wonder why people stick on to this parenting gig. Heaven knows it gets a lot of flak. You are constantly under scrutiny and not to mention are second guessing every decision you make. To top that, every one of your child's heartaches becomes your own. And there are new things to learn every step of the way - theres nary a let-up! But here we are, my Mom and I - trudging on with a commitment we made to that one little heartbeat that decided to leap into our world.

My name is Nidhi. I am my baby's Mom and I am my Mom's baby. And I am proud and happy that I can claim to be both - oh wait I need to answer that missed call, before we get all panicky again ;)

Upheavals and then some settling down!

So, the good news is that the significant other and I have completed 7 years together! I for one am just rolling back and forth in the time reel to process how that ever happened. I mean, when one gets married, one doesn't really prepare for milestones like these, no?

It has been a sort of fun month too. Kidlet has her concert coming up at school and we have a slightly modified schedule, which involves her leaving very early and staying at school for an hour more. Though it has been an upheaval of sorts - from school at noon to the crack of dawn can be one!

There are other things too - which I am so grateful about. And given the fact that I find more occasions to whine than to sing about, so to speak, I would prefer to dwell on the positives for a change this month. For starters, I danced. As in really really danced. If my math and memory serve me well its been a decade since I well and truly let my hair loose and danced. And it just happened. Without much planning, at the most innocuous occasion (Husband's office party, if you must know!) my heels just started clicking together - and there I was on the dance floor - and boy am I glad I did that. Otherwise who knows how long I would have kept those hips just lying around. Ha, ha, ha..ok, not funny!

Next item on the agenda has been getting back on the career track. With some hits and several misses. Still a fledgling as a freelance writer. Though I know it would be way easier to get back to Research (my previous full time wage earning profile!), I really want to make my way forward as a writer. This month I had a few positive meetings with people interested in my work - so fingers crossed, lets see what comes of it! There are also some ideas that I really would like to see take wing - so fingers crossed for that as well - but lots of anticipation too :)

If you have been reading my blog (fat chance, I know!) you know of my guilt about not blogging about the kidlet more. But help is here! Blogadda has started a new platform for parent bloggers called Parentous.com. And guess who appears in their Wednesday offering? Kidlet, of course!

And on that happy note, I wish you good tidings with a promise to be back sooner next time with a more well thought through post. Have been battling a sinus infection - and am not sure if it is the clogged airways or the medication, but I'm quite out of breath nowadays - ah well, you cannot win 'em all, eh?

An Uncomfortable truth..

As I type this, there is a voice inside me telling me not to do it. "Don't do it, don't go out and tell the world what a horrible terrible mother you have been."

What exactly am I talking about? Like the world (or at least those in India ) wakes up to daily updates of baby Ahuti who died at the hands of her mother - I feel fraught with despair, not just for the poor poor child who died a death so brutal but also for the mother who was obviously over the edge and desperate. By no means can I condone her actions but as details of the case emerge - of a mother with three children - two of them premie twins with obvious care needs .. Children who cried and screamed through the night - and ostensibly no or very little help for the mother...I can somewhat see how the tragedy could have unfurled. Though the extent to which the child (children?) was abused is simply bone chilling, I simply cannot join in on pointing fingers at the parents with righteous outrage.

The reason being that several times in the past five years I have felt on the verge of hitting my child. Out of despair, frustration, tiredness..anger! I know many of you would say - but of course - most of us feel like that at some time. But what I am talking about is another feeling - one which involves grievous body harm - a feeling of harming your child so badly that it shuts up, quietens down - acquiesces..submits. The feeling I am talking about is at the edge of desperation and would according to me qualify as being beyond the ambit of anger and sense.

It happened to me more than once. This feeling that I am talking about. When kidlet was younger than a year old - I would sometimes scream - at her, at the walls..or into the towels in the bathroom. I possibly had post partum depression - who is to know. Since we lived abroad with no family or support around - my desperation just kept getting exacerbated. My child was fortunate that I did not take out the violent feelings that I felt onto her during that time. Really- I am grateful for whatever last vestiges of sanity that I had for keeping me from doing anything stupid - either to myself or my child.

I took anti depressants ..vented out on online forums .. Cried, cribbed and shouted at my husband..nothing provided respite. Then one day, I got a glimpse of how dangerous I could become. It was one of the nights that my husband was away. My daughter - always a fitful sleeper was not only awake but crying - a persistent whiny cry. I tried to pat her, carry her, sing, feed ..she would not budge - the whining persisted for the next few hours. I was exhausted - I implored her to quieten down ( she was around 20 months old) she responded by increasing her pitch. I raised my voice - the whining turned into full fledged crying. I shouted. She cried even louder. Then almost by its own volition my hand raised and rested with a resounding 'thwack' on my daughter's back. It was all quiet for a second. I looked at my daughter in the darkness and I could barely make out the shock in her eyes..and then I hit her again on the back..yes I did it twice. And even as I cried I felt the worst feeling that a mother ever should - that of feeling good after hitting her child. That one second of shocked quiet felt good. Good sense made me pick her up and take her to the living room and switch on the lights before I could do more harm. My daughter continued to cry. But suddenly I was numb to it because I was too shocked by my actions, too scared of myself. I begged my uncomprehending child for forgiveness. Later that day I would confess my actions to my mother and husband. They both reacted as they should - cautiously understanding but asking me to find ways to control my rage.

After that day, I became truly aware of how dangerous I could become under the combined influence of whatever environmental and biological factors that there were..and I knew I had to be very very cautious of myself. I would be lying if I said that I never again felt like hitting my child. Several times when I felt myself moving into that mood I rushed to another room - shouted, screamed, threw things around .. Put on music and closed my eyes .. But thankfully I managed to resist the urge to hit her again. The guilt and shame of that time has stayed with me though. Every time I remember that instance (and now that I write about it) I want it to have never happened. And then when cases of parental abuse come up in the media, I shiver and recoil in terror. Maybe I never could have actually committed such violence but my experience has shown me how darkness can seep through into what is otherwise painted as the most wondrous time of your life - motherhood.

I am not sure if I can do a 'moral of the story' sort of end to this post, but the reason I wrote about this is to admit to the tumultuous nature of parenting. Not every motherhood is hunky dory and filled with play doh and gurgles and all things happy. For some, parenting can the most painful, challenging thing - it would be good if we could accept that as being a possibility. 

Junk Happens..

The morning was spent clearing up. Associated junk everywhere. Things that I do not remember willingly bringing into the house have comfortably settled into their nooks and crannies. And the darned part is this -most of this 'junk' is glue and paper, glitter and scribbles - you guessed it - painstakingly ( or maybe not) created art and craft.
When one first has a child, each milestone that she achieves - be it hand eye co- ordination, colour recognition, pattern drawing etc. etc. - one proudly starts documenting and displaying . Then the inevitable happens - there are too many of these sticky gluey things all over the place . A dough frog starts looking a more realistic green, because it has actual mould growing on it . And dry mud filled pots which have long forgotten spores populating your allergy inclined nostrils. Glitter makes a constant appearance and you start recognising paper mâché by its smell.
When kidlet was younger most of these craft projects were home based.  There is a framed smudge of paint on my walls - something the lil Picasso had made when she was just one. Awww? Not really. I wince every time I see it - my only hope is that when she has kids of her own I can palm it off on them and tell them their mum made it when she was... Anyhow back to the present. Nowadays it is not just school and assorted classes which despatch cartloads of craft that my progeny has created, the eternal irritant - birthday parties - have also started churning out much of the same . How many name plates , hand prints, puppets and so forth can one deal with ? And relegating to the dust bin feels like such a criminal waste.
Honestly I sometimes feel overwhelmed by the amount of things in my home that have some stamp of kidlet on them. Sure I try to appreciate the effort and thought that goes into making these things - but need there be so many ?
What do you do with the arts and crafts overflow in your house? How do you deal with it? I am toying with the idea of keeping one carton - and pruning it every year to have only enough things that fit that size carton.  I plan to have memories, but not so many that they ramble onward with silverfish and mothballs in their tow!

Adjusting around..one rented home at a time!

Wow! I cannot believe I am writing this post out almost one year after moving into my new home! It is annoying to think that there still are rough edges to be smoothened over all around, things to be fixed and yet many more things that are still waiting for their own 'space' in what is fast becoming their old home. Welcome to my world of a Mumbai 2 BHK - 2 bedroom-hall-kitchen i.e.
This home of ours, which comes at a rent so high that one has to whisper and look apologetic while mentioning the sum. Apologetic, simply because it sounds (and feels) like a criminal (bleeding, bleeding!) waste of money. Granted there are so called amenities - club house, pool, etc. etc. but travel up just a few kilometers and the monies for something similar would be significantly lesser - and not to mention less polluted! Anyhow, that rant is for another day.
For the time being my bone of (dis)contention is the fact that I am still 'adjusting' us into our new home. By that I mean, our needs, our belongings and our differences in height. Do not consider the last bit jest. Consider this - tables. To begin with the dining table. Since the spouse had cleverly allocated furniture purchases to yours truly(within a certain budget of course), I had shopped according to my tastes and abilities. I brought home a fairly simple glass topped dining table with a cute under pane of glass - you know like a display rack? When the table was delivered, what do we have but the husband going ahead and knocking himself on wood. No, seriously - he of the 8 extra inches than me length has his knees knocking into the aforementioned 'under-pane' wood, every single time he sits down at the table! And since given the size of the house, we do not have a separate work area for him (as yet - more on that later!) he has to sit at the dining table to work. And needless to say I don't have the heart - or the moral right indeed - to stop him from eating dinner, sitting on the sofas.
Without going into what happens to be very many such instances - big/small, equally niggling - all I can say is that things can get pretty uncomfortable. This happens to be the 5th house that we've moved into in the last 7 years. And this is discounting some short term rentals! And obviously, over the years we have collected some furniture - depending on that particular life stage and - woe- shape and size of the house! And I have come to believe that my wood is just like me - too bloody stubborn and with a mind of its own - in most cases it doesn't fit in and sticks out like a sore thumb! There I've said it now.
I know it is quirky yet to be expected in lives such as ours - lived as it is in homes we do not own. I neither have the heart or the money to throw out all that is old and keep getting new things every time we move. In a way it gives us semblance of continuity in our married story - like all good home furniture should. There are broken bits and scratches that shout out an anecdote every time we pass by. And since I'm not much of a photograph chronicler - these are more permanent markers, however hotch potch! Now only if I didn't get a backache every time I sat at my 'desk' - a chair I bought as a newly wed snuggled next to a builder built console - in a drastically different colour too. Sigh!

Stay at home holiday for a stay at home Mom!

This has been a long weekend. A six day long one to be precise. Thats a perfect holiday length and the time of the year is good too. So, what stopped us from packing our bags, upping and going off to someplace nice(r)? In the land of aplenty, ennui has set in, unfortunately.

For the last couple of years, after having been housebound for a short while with a young kidlet, we have been intrepid travelers - like many others of our socio economic milieu. Like my corporate slave spouse will vouch - getting away from it all has become a necessity more than a luxury. The pace of our lives, generally sky high stress levels and lesser and lesser 'family-time' as such has ensured that a 'holiday' is the best thing that the good doctor could prescribe for people like us. We have willingly joined the generation of weekend travellers - looking forward to 'long' weekends with the impatience of milk starved puppies - or some such!
This weekend was a much anticipated one to begin with - 6 days yaar! Thats enough time to go to Bangkok for a combined spa/retail therapy holiday. We also have half a dozen nations which await us with visa on arrival only. Woe be to us - last year - this is exactly what we did. Hopped on the next available flight to a south east asian country - only to be greeted by half of Mumbai there! Trust me I like a familiar face or two - but entire batches of people you know? Anyways, that also is beside the point. Like a frequent flyer will tell you - after a while airports all merge into one and traveling is hardly unique - and much less -de stressing. And traveling with kids honestly - is - for want of a better word - a pain! Young kids can be annoying and demanding - and travel can bring out the worst in them. I have done enough holidays by now to really really dread trips that involve me travelling alone with the kidlet. However many electronic gizmos you may have at your disposal - there are ear aches, tantrums, spills and managing gazillion tit-bits of hand baggage and kid while making a visit to dirty loos in airports, petrol stations, burger joints etc. etc. etc..! Needless to say, over the years I have become one unhappy camper. I dread holidays. Especially since the days and opportunities for solo holidays are long gone.
Enough complaining now, no? Today is the 6th day of the aforementioned 6 day holiday. One has survived living at one's own address for the said time period. More importantly the kidlet does not look very deprived of the 'lost' opportunity of travel and widening her worldview (or any other such lofty aspirations we sometimes try to ascribe to our wanderings!). We have entertained ourselves with swimming, mundane other classes and vapid visits to Hamleys - not to mention going down to celebrate Independence day instead of being outbound from the homeland! I have not gone out of the way to do anything remotely educational or crafty - or inspired. I've just let things be. The plumber and electrician and other sundry workers have been around to fill in the hours. Its been life as usual. Television has been used as a baby sitter and Mommy has been taking long afternoon siestas. And its ok. We have survived!
I dont really know why it feels like such a big deal. But it is. Over the last few years, I've been almost scared to spend a 'unplanned' holiday. It has become a big deal - to DO something. Anything. How can one waste a holiday? How will one entertain the kid? Yes - how? Like sitting around, doing nothing, is the absolute worst crime in the entire world! Well, now that I've done it and feel no worse for wear - I can highly recommend it. Didn't Seinfeld do 'nothing' make millions and retire in comfort to do much the same? Even though that fails as an analogy (far-fetched - my middle name) I tell you on - nothing beats - siestas on your own bed, and pigging out on pocorn in your own living room. Try it - its a different kind of home stay!!