The beginner's guide to raise a toddler and be a homemaker

Life with a toddler is a little bit of this and little bit of that.

There are good days and not-so-good ones.

Some days are dirty, with everything looking and feeling and seeming to be dirty.

Others, not so much.

Some days, little P is the cutest cuddle monster you can lay your hands on.

Others, he's just a little monster!

Life with a toddler teaches you lot of things, It gives you patience, it makes you the daddy, or rather mommy, of innovation.

You are constantly looking for ways to entertain him while you do the chores, or at least, pretend to do them, because you don't like doing them.

The easiest of tasks take forever, while the most difficult of them will suddenly be over in seconds!

I've only been a mom for a little over a year now, but I have seen so many changes in myself, I wonder what's gonna happen to me by the time he's 20 and ready to leave us in search of his own identity?!

So, I thought, let me see how some tasks now unfold after having had a baby.

These tips will definitely not help any mother out there, so, please refrain from looking for any help here, okay?!

Most days, I have no idea how I get from BEGIN TASK to END TASK! It just happens! As if I had a magic wand with me!

HOW TO CHANGE YOUR TODDLER'S CLOTHES/DIAPERS IN 30 MINUTES

You read it right. It is indeed 30 minutes, and not 3. No self-respecting toddler will allow you to change his diaper in such a short span of time.

Take out diaper from toddler's almirah, which is bursting at the seams with a million clothes and a zillion diapers. NOTE TO SELF: MUST CLEAN THIS TOMORROW. OR DAY AFTER. OKAY, SOME TIME THIS MONTH!

Get toddler to the bed, so you don't have to bend. Turn to pick up diaper, and TODDLER IS MISSING!

He was here a second ago! Do a quick recce of the house shouting his name, but zero results! 

Come back to the room, only to find toddler hiding behind the almirah YOU PASSED on your way!

DUH!

Repeat step 2 twice, before you finally manage to get a grip on him.Open diaper. By now, toddler has decided this is a good time to PEE ON THE BED!

You quickly use your mommy x-ray scanning eyes to look for a cloth that can absorb the pee, so it doesn't hit the mattress!

BEEP! TOO LATE! You end up using your palms, cupped, so that you can catch the flying pee. Do a little whoop, because you saved the mattress!

Clean him, and pop the diaper on. FINALLY!

He's having none of this. He quickly kicks it away before you can strap it in place, to the left side of the bed. You follow him. Mind it, he's on the bed, and you aren't. So, you have to go around.

Okay, now you both are on the same side. You sit down in front of him. He runs to the right side! ^&@(@!($(@&

You do this 5 times, before realising you are an idiot and look like one. He's enjoying and you've just had your gym workout in less than 5 minutes.

He's challenging me, you think! How dare he?! I am the mommy!

Wait, where's the toothbrush I use to entice him to stay still for 5 seconds?!

Okay, put toothbrush in your mouth. Now, sing I am a little teapot, and this is the way we brush our teeth.

Toddler is enamored by your ability to look like a fool for 10 seconds! 

JOB DONE! THE DIAPER IS ON. 

IT ONLY TOOK 30 MINUTES AND YOUR SANITY!

Oh wait! It's backside-front! DAMMIT! REPEAT AGAIN!

HOW TO TAKE A SHOWER IN LESS THAN 2 MINUTES

First, pretend to play hide-and-seek, so you can skip away while he's hiding.

After 5 minutes, you realise this isn't working. He's figured you are up to something. The hot water will soon turn cold and you are stinking like a pig.

Fine, let me just go!

As soon as you shut the bathroom door, there are screams and shouts.

Open the door. Find your own mother standing outside, looking at you standing naked. FLASHBACK 20 YEARS AGO!

MOM,GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!

Oops, you realise she's trying to help you by distracting your toddler.

Okay, fine, you can stay here and watch me shower, SIGH!

By now, 30 seconds have passed, and the shouting is still on. You are soaked enough to quickly lather some soap.

The screams are getting louder! You grab your phone, kept right outside for emergencies like this, and with soapy hands, get to YouTube. 

Dammit! the phone just slipped. More screams and shouts! From me and toddler!

The water is now cold.

Somehow manage to retrieve phone, but BUMP YOUR HEAD on the bathroom table top.

Oh c'mon, nursery rhyme, just start already!

Toddler decides he wants another one, and not this. Repeat previous step, without the phone slipping off and you bumping your head.

Before the song is over, quickly apply what's left of dried soap in your hands on yourself, and pour the entire bucket of cold water over you at one go.

CURSE EVERYONE AND THEIR RELATIVES.

You are done!

Realise that you forgot to carry your towel with you, so walk out gingerly, all naked and dripping with soapy water, only to BUMP INTO MOM! BAAH! She's already seen you like this today. AND YESTERDAY. THE DAY BEFORE, AND BEFORE THAT AS WELL.

HOW TO KEEP A CLEAN HOUSE

Wake up in the morning, or rather, are woken up by toddler, who climbs over you to get off the bed and ends up kicking and poking you in your womanly parts.

Good morning, my cupcake! Thanks!

Almost trip, as the pile of clean clothes you dumped on the floor last night to fold and keep away TODAY, has magically changed its position from where you dumped it last night.

Glare at toddler, who has no idea why mommy is so happy early in the morning.

PROMISE TO SELF: I WILL CLEAN THIS AS SOON AS I AM DONE WITH BREAKFAST

Breakfast comes and goes. So does lunch.

Evening is here and the weather is so pretty. How on earth can anyone fold clothes when the sky is so blue?!

Enter night time. The pile has grown, because you washed clothes again today, and they are all dry and smell great. 

Then you recall, oh wait, these are clothes from Monday! Today is Thursday!

Dammit!

It's time to sleep now, you say. I am so not doing this right away. Too sleepy!

PICK UP CLEAN CLOTHES AND DUMP ON FLOOR.

Tomorrow morning, as soon as I wake up, I am hitting this pile of clothes with a revenge!

Or maybe, I can just take a REALLY BIG BED SHEET, and hide all these clothes under that! If I can't see it, nobody else can, right?!

And, just like that, TADAAA! THE HOUSE HAS BEEN CLEANED IN LESS THAN 10 SECONDS!

C'mon now, Be nice. Go ahead and thank me.

Toddlers' rules versus babies' drool

I sometimes think I am going mental. Like absolute mental. I-wanna-pull-my-own-hair kinda mental.

Okay, MOST TIMES, I feel mental. I am having a time tough with my toddler.

I don't know what is it. Maybe it's teething, maybe it isn't. Maybe it's a developmental phase. It's separation anxiety for all I know.

You know, the kinds when babies/toddlers realise that they are a different person than their mommies, and hence resort to sheer maddening tantrums to express their displeasure at the fact that mommy has "left them".

And, by "left them", I mean going to the loo to pee. Or poop. Or have water. Change clothes. Wash hands. You get the basic idea, I suppose.

So, yes, little P basically cries ALL DAY LONG, as soon as he realises that I am TWO STEPS away from him. And, so, he's stuck on my hip most of the time, or walking 1 step behind me, just to ensure that I don't run away.

The reason I am venting today, is because sometimes I miss the "easy" days of infanthood.

I say easy, because, "all" infants need, are food, comfort, and a clean tushi. THAT'S ALL.

There are no tantrums for "I want this bath time to go longer than the current 30 minutes!".

Or, loud screams if you delay in peeling off the mango and chop it into grab-able slices for little hands.

And, may the heavens help you if you try to pop a diaper or change clothes. MY GOD, THE SHEER HYSTERICS THAT FOLLOW!

You would think that toddlers generally are quite happy in running around the house with poop in their bottoms, with or without diapers.

Infants, on the other hand. AAAH! They cry and holler AS SOON AS they pee or poop. They can't stand the thought of being wet and dirty, they have so much dignity in them, bless them!

But, these little monster monkey toddlers! Gaah! They will pull the diaper/nappy/knickers from you and rush at the speed of a Concorde to the balcony, from where they will throw the diaper/nappy/knickers onto the head of an unsuspecting passerby!

SORRY, SORRY, SORRY! That was little P, yet again. For the fifth time this day.

It takes me ages, I kid you not, to get him dressed. First, I have to clean his REALLY REALLY DIRTY face, an act that needs me to hold him, because he will kick the crap out of me. Or push me. Or head butt me.

Yes, apparently, toddler boys are THIS FRISKY!

And, my God, don't even get me started on how dirty those little hands can get! wowza!

Infants, on the other hand, will LAY IN ONE PLACE, probably even snooze, while you change them. They won't move an inch! Aaah, I wonder what that feels like. To change somebody who's NOT A JELLYFISH THAT STINGS!

And the feeding! Oooh, easy peasy! yes, infants do feed quite often. And very little. But, it's so easy to feed them, irrespective of whether you breastfeed or formula feed.

They stay in one place and calmly feed. No distractions, no nothing.

They don't hold monster trucks IN THEIR HANDS WHILE THEY breast feed. And try to shove that down your bra and play peekaboo with the damn truck. HIDDEN INSIDE YOUR BRA. BETWEEN YOUR BOOBS!

Or a bottle of vicks vaporub.

Don't ask me about that one. Little P is obsessed with that one. And his FOUR BOTTLES OF baby powder. He holds onto them whilst asleep!

I mean, I know babies who have hugsy toys and teddy bears and what not. But, baby powder?! Seriously?! Whatever works for him!

At least till they are six months old, infants only need milk. And that makes our job so much easier! No 4 different kinds of food items at one meal, just because we are cranky and don't like the first three options that were served to us.

For infants, you pop the boob out, and you are sorted!

For a toddler, firstly, he himself is now capable of popping the boob out, thankyouverymuch!

Yep. They learn to do that. IN PUBLIC. PULL UP YOUR SHIRT AND TRY TO UNDO YOUR BRA. IN PUBLIC. UHUH!

So, if at all yours doesn't do, and you do pop it out, in all probability, s/he will come and bite you! Because, THEY ARE TEETHING!

When you go for a stroll, to burn off your post partum fat, your infant will happily either let you carry him, or sit in his pram and watch the world go by.

Your toddler?

First, he will throw a fit because he wants you to carry him, even though he is perfectly capable of walking. Walking my ass! He is perfectly capable of running away from you, in the middle of the road, giving you a heart attack, yet again!

Then, just when you huff and puff and look all idiotic pretending that you can walk with that toddler on your hip, your toddler will decide that it's time to get down NOW! IN TODDLERS' WORLD, NOW MEANS NOW!

NOT 0.00001 SECONDS LATER.

If at all, yours is still in his pram, he will most probably either try to STAND IN IT. Or, get down and push the pram himself. While you look like an idiot trying to push an empty pram, that's loaded with vegetables by now. Might as well put it to some use, eh?!

I don't know if infants and toddlers sleep any different. Mine is still up quite a lot through the night. The difference is that in the infancy stage, you can still get them to sleep, either by rocking them, or walking them, or feeding them.

But as toddlers, THEY DECIDE, OKAY? IT'S THEIR RULES. NOT YOURS. So, don't even pretend to think that you can get them to sleep when you want them to sleep, or worst, when you want to sleep yourself!

I now wonder, why is it that, when babies are babies, we want them to grow up, and then when they do grow up, we miss the baby stage!

Tonight, I may just have to hug the damn baby powder bottle and sleep.

Motherhood, I love ya, even in my stinky avatar!

Motherhood is fun. it's crazy. It's beautiful. It's challenging. It's an emotional roller coaster. It's overwhelming. It's funny. It's rewarding in its own weird ways.

It's a defining moment in any woman's life. It sure changes a lot of things. Some, for good, some, maybe for the worse. It changes you as a person. I can say all of these things, because they hold true in my case.

The old, pre-baby me was a different person, on the inside and the outside. The fact that I am an extremely emotional person doesn't help things. It makes motherhood seem a different ball game altogether.

There are a lot of fun things I have started doing ever since little P came screaming into our lives more than a year ago.

I find it amusing that I have changed so much, others don't! Who cares?! I know I am a bigger (in size, and in magnanimity) and better person!

I can finally share my pizza without crying inside! Before little P came along, I had no idea that sharing was a virtue. For me, the thought of sharing food was a blasphemous act!

What?! You want me to give a bite of my yummy, scrumptious pizza to the husband?! SO.NOT.HAPPENING!

HE CAN FIND ANOTHER WIFE, THANKYOUVERYMUCH! I AIN'T NO SHARING NO PIZZA!

But now, what's mine is little P's. Without him asking for it, primarily because, he doesn't know how to ask yet.

But, I bet, that once he does start talking, he'll continue to grab, steal and poach food off my plate, and I will still be happy eating just a slice!

I am also okay with picking up food off the floor and eating it now, because I don't want him eating it.

My pre-mommy self would probably cringe at this thought. But, I here I am, picking bread crumbs off the floor and stuffing them into my mouth.

And, I wonder why I am so fat?! HAAH!

Another really close-to-my-heart habit of mine WAS to wear kajal/kohl in my eyes. I WOULD NEVER EVER EVER EVER NEVER step out without decking up my eyes. EVER EVER EVER.

Neither would I ever step put in my glasses, because, hello?! Why on earth were lenses invented?!

Cut to new mom phase, and I have no idea where my kajal stick is. I am not sure if little P ate it, that's a possibility I am willing to consider.

If at all, I do manage to find it at times, I mostly end up only wearing it in one eye, because, before I can bother to shut the other eye, I either smacked on my bottom by little P, because he wants attention.

Or else, I hear frantic screams of "mamma!" because, you know, he can see a crow on the balcony and wants to go say hi!

At other times, he just screams "mamma!" only because he likes the way it rolls off his little tongue and he shines in the way I come running, all kajal-in-one-eye, screaming, "what happened?!"

So, yes, the kajal has figured that I have no time for it. It might as well find someone else to date. I have to admit, "it's not you, it's me!"

And, don't even bother asking me where my lenses are. I know for a fact, that the other day, when I did manage to find the time to wear them, I ended up pushing one of them up until my eyebrows, and it took me and hour to fish it out.

Pre-motherhood, I was a cleanliness freak. And, by that, I mean I was an obsessive person when it came to keeping the house and my person clean.

But, hello, motherhood! I didn't know it was okay to be dirty and keep a dirty house, because, babies come first and the mops and spider webs can wait.

Earlier, the floors would shine, ditto the linen and the furniture. Ditto, me.

Now, I don't know. I don't know. I don't know...

I spend 18 hours a day trying to persuade a whiny and pesky toddler that I am right here and that I am not running away to a clean land where I can keep myself and my surroundings clean. He's obsessed. He thinks I have better things to do in life than being a mommy. Little does he know, eh?!

So, yes, the day he understands that I am here to stay, I will brush my hair, and my teeth, put some kajal in my eyes, wear clothes (not that I am currently sat here naked).

No. I mean, I will wear clothes that are not grey track pants and black tee shirt with a hole that I try to hide, because, you know this (it makes me look slim). Actually, it's THE ONLY THING THAT FITS ME WELL) ONLY BECAUSE IT IS MADE OF STRETCH FABRIC.

Shit. My life sucks. Or, maybe, it doesn't. It purely depends on  how many hours I've spent cajoling little P and how much (or less) cranky he is.

Did I just say I am a better person? Umm, I would like to take that back, please!

Motherhood, I love ya, even in my stinky avatar!

The poopy diaper on the restaurant floor is ours, thanks!

I love travelling. So does the husband.

And, so did WE, when we were dating. That was all we did, travel all over India, every time we wanted to meet, because we were in a long distance relationship, and meeting each other meant running away to some cool place for a week, and travel travel travel.

We did this for 3 years and spent shit loads of money and enjoyed every second of it.

And, then...

WE GOT MARRIED!

Which suddenly meant, money became sacrosanct and hard-earned. Travel suddenly became a leisurely activity that required us to spend money.

I frankly don't know why this happens. I don't know why money takes on such different meaning once you get married and the fun out of travel is taken away and thrown away to the dogs.

Then, one day, little P arrived and money took on a different meaning. It was for little P, everything that we had and everything that we bought. Every little experience seemed incomplete without him, and there was no way we were having fun without him, even though he didn't understand anything that was happening around him.

When little P was around 4 months old, and had set into a long-craved routine, boredom hit me long and hard. Life had a fixed routine to it, and motherhood, suddenly, became boring because it had the same thing going for it day in and day out.

So, we thought, let's travel!

We had planned the whole thing down to a T. We were to spend 1 week in Kerala, a place we had long been planning to visit.

The thing with travelling with a baby is, IT'S BLOODY EXPENSIVE!

I mean, shockingly expensive. You need to plan for every contingency that might hit you, and then there's a back up for every back up!

Even the second back up needs to have a back up, because, God forbid, what if everything goes to the dogs, and you are left without any back ups?!

Because we were travelling for the first time with little P, we were extremely anxious. To say that our anxiety levels had hit the roof, would be putting it lightly. We were both very close to dying of a sudden stroke, we were so panicky as first time parents and debutant travellers as parents.

We didn't want to take any risks. We had some idea of the weather, but we didn't want to get caught in a situation where we would be left paralysed for lack of something.

And so, we packed like crazy. In the end, we literally packed little P's ENTIRE WARDROBE! And, boy! does he have a lot of clothes?!

We packed summer wear, winter wear, clothes for a rainy day, clothes for a Sunday, and a Friday! We had 2 large suitcases, and one tiny one. It's easy to guess which one had mine and the husband's eight clothes in total. We were ready to sleep in our underwear, if need be, but there was no way we were going to fall short of clothes for little P!

We were even prepared for lack of laundry services, so we packed in some more! Clothes were coming out of pores, my god! The sheer amount of clothes!

We even went ahead and bought a pram, because, we were idiots who thought it would be easier to travel with one!

The day arrived. Our flight was at 6am, so we had to wake up little P at 2am, because, we stay a million light years away from the airport.

This was also the first time I would be feeding in public, and I was shit nervous and scared. I ordered what's called a nursing cover online. Baah! What a fool was I to think that such a tiny piece of cloth, which offered "complete coverage to you and baby; now feed in public in a modest manner", would actually cover even my hand!!!

So, I literally took things in my own hand, and created one! It was so big, that it could actually cover my entire 100 kgs! Woohoo!

Anyway, at the airport, as soon as we were done with our security, it was as if an alarm went off in little P's head. It was time for his feed, and I was one nervous mama bear. I kept looking around, going from place to place, in order to calm him down. But obviously, nothing worked.

I finally managed one somewhat lonely corner, and sat down with him and covered myself. I was sweaty and had goose bumps from what would happen next. What if someone saw me feeding him? What if he exposed me a little? Or too much? What if he threw a tantrum? What what what?

Nothing happened, and he fed like a dream! This was it, this had to be the most liberating moment of my life,  feeding in public. Nobody even realised what I was doing, or even if they did, nobody bothered.

Any hoo.. On to the trip.

To say that the trip was uneventful and boring, would be an understatement. WE DID NOTHING. Yep, for 6 days, we were cooped inside the hotel room because "what if?!"

The what if ruined our time as a family, as a vacationing family, rather. We would just step out thrice a day to eat, that's all. This had turned to be a nightmare vacation, the worst of our life together.

Only one exciting thing happened...

Those who know me will know that I have a freakish sense of smell and hearing. I have been called a dog and snake, it's that strong.

So, we are on our way back, at the airport lounge. This was a smallish airport, with a new food court and we were too excited to be the first patrons there. Yeah, life had become so boring that silly things like these excited us.

We sat down to eat, when the husband looks at me.

ME: What?

HUSBAND: Nothing. (staring at me)

ME: WHAT?! TELL ME!

HUSBAND: YOU farted!

ME: WTF! NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT!

HUSBAND: Don't I know you?!

ME: I thought it was you!

HUSBAND: Err, no!!

Okay, then, may be it was neither of us, and it was someone around us.

We continued to eat, when, again, BOOM!

And, then, it dawned upon us. that our genes had been passed on to our little creation, our little P, who was turning out to be a big farter! Mr FARTYPANTS P!

Fine, no problem, we said, and continued to eat.

ME: sniff, sniff! What's that smell?

HUSBAND: What? I didn't smell anything.

ME: Is it the food? This smell is damn strange!

HUSBAND: YOU farted!

ME: WTF! NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT!

HUSBAND: Don't I know you?!

ME: I thought it was you!

Hold on, one second! This little P is at it again! Yikes!

But, this time, we had more in store for us! yes, you guessed it!  IT WAS THE BIG P, THE NUMBER 2! IN THE MIDDLE OF A MEAL. SLAM DUNK IN THE MIDDLE OF A NEW RESTAURANT!

I love being a mom! There's nothing better than cleaning a poopy bottom on a restaurant floor (because there was no bathroom!), praying like crap that nobody from the management will figure what you are sneakily up to and throw you out of their premises for messing with their hygiene standards and putting off the rest of their patrons!

YOU GOT SOME MORE POOPY DIAPERS FOR ME?! BRING THEM ON!!