I have been a wicked wicked person. I bop along, read all the posts greedily, and then saunter off without as much as a bye your leave. A lovely email from Sandeepa brought on those really hard to ignore guilt pangs, so here I am, posting on the wonderful theme suggested by Poppins mom. Something I think I really need to do, considering half the day goes in major self flagellation over being a terrible mom. So here goes.
It has been four years and a couple of months since life as you knew it changed irrevocably. That is the word. Irrevocably. Nothing is the same anymore. It starts from your body which is now that of a mothers. No sleek concave belly allowing for a S shaped silhouette. Silvery lines crisscrossing the hips, thighs and abdomen. Breasts that have long been divorced from the word pert. And a lap that is meant for a little head to snuggle and sleep on. This is a mothers body. And you carry it with pride. You dont go around making excuses for not being perfect, because you are. Within you, you are now perfect and complete. The odd vaccuum you had within your soul has been filled. But now your heart and soul walks outside your body. And you are so proud of this little miracle come from you that your heart swells up and bursts with pride everytime you see him.
How you wanted a child, how you harrassed the husband. If there is one thing to be said about you, it is your determination to get what you want come hell or high water. You blinker out every possibility of a no. You switched doctors, you went to every specialist possible, you went through excruitiating tests and medical procedure, before finally, the two pink lines consented to appear on the urine test. It was shocking. The realisation that you were responsible for another beautiful human being growing inside you. That you would now, henceforth, never be able to think of yourself in isolation. That your identity would now change forever. You would be someone's mom. And you were grateful, that a soul had decided that your womb was worthy of nurturing it through to life.
When the brat was born you were terrified. Motherhood didnt come naturally to you. There were hiccups. You didnt know how to handle such a little child. You were so very afraid of doing anything wrong. And there were the issues at home. Prickly issues. You almost went insane with depression. But you pulled through. You soldiered on, because you were needed. For the first time in your life, you felt indispensable. And you knew you were.
Such a beautiful child. You felt you were not doing enough. You were a lazy mother. But in reality, you were an obsessed mother, your every minute revolved around the brat. His meals, his play, his bathing, his clothes, you supervised and did everything. You have friends who have hired maids to do everything for their children and suggested you do the same. To give yourself more time. You found that blasphemous. The child was your responsibility completely. Till today, you do everything, bathe, feed, clothe, pick up and drop to school, to therapy, to the park, to the mall, to birthday parties. You have devoted yourself 24 x7 to the brat. It isnt being insane and obsessed, and being a helicopter mother, it is knowing that no one will be able to handle the brat as well as you do. And you do it without even thinking about it, until someone points out that you have put your life and career on complete hold. And once the brat grows up a little, he wont need you as much, then what will you do with yourself. You will cross that bridge when it arrives, you say. Right now, he needs me. Right now, he gets all of me.
You sit and calculate whether he's got the recommended dosages of vitamins and minerals in his daily diet, whether he's got enough play, whether he seems happy and content in his sleep. Is he sleeping well, eating well? It isnt easy to put yourself second and you've done that without a murmur. So have most moms you know. And it is how it should be.
But yet, you are a strong woman. You fight for the brat. You believe in him and his abilities. His innate intelligence. His charm despite his tantrums. You believe you have a child who is a rough diamond. And you are doing all you can to polish it to a brilliance that will blind the world.
And at the end of the day, you know that all you are really doing, is repaying your debt to your wonderful mother. And still falling short.
You are a great mom. Even if you lose your temper a couple of times a day.
(This post by Kiran of www.karmickids.blogspot.com)