The ABC of W - Weight, during P - pregnancy and post partum

It goes without saying, that fat and weight are my number 1 enemies. I hate those bastards. But, like they say in good old Indian English style, what to do only, I am like this only.

I am glad to report that I have managed to knock off all of my pregnancy weight!  A LITTLE WHOOP WHOOP FOR ME, PLEASE!

Now, anything else that I manage to do, in terms of my weight, that is, and not my sanity (which, on a separate note, I should add, that I have already lost), will be a plus point. I've knocked off two whole dress sizes. But, I am still fat, if you go by my weight and my height combined together, that bitch of a lethal combination called BMI. ( In my dictionary, that stands for Bite My Innards).

Anyhoo, I've been thinking, my whole life has been about this fat and trying to get rid of it. Not once, can I recall that I've actually managed to sustain that weight loss. It's not because I stuff myself like a pig to bloat back again, but something happens that leads to the weight gain. Sigh... 

Sooooo, to put things down into perspective, here's the ABC of W - Weight, during P - pregnancy and post partum

A -ALMOST

You will manage to lose almost all of your pregnancy weight, one fine day. But that last sticky pound or two refuses to go, and it keeps getting you down. Bloody rascal, that last pound! Or, in my case, 10 kgs of non-pregnancy weight, because I was a fat person to begin with! Can't blame the baby for everything! sigh!

B - BOTHER

One fine day, you will also start to bother about the weight. If you are one of those, who started gymming in less than a month's time post partum, then, good on you! I would probably stay away from such folks, because they make me look lazy! 

C - CLEVER CUTS

They will become your best friends during your struggle with the weight loss, because nobody wants to dress in a tent when you yourself are a tent! Smart silhouettes, stuff that wraps around your jelly belly, those will be on your wishlist and shopping cart on all your shopping apps! TRUST ME! Nothing hides that wobbly fat better than a smartly cut shirt. And, boy, that tummy does wobble a lot in the early days! You will wonder why you still look 5 months pregnant, even though now that the baby is on the outside!

D - DREAMS

You will have two kinds of dreams. One, where you dream of becoming all slim and trim and sexy legs, strutting it like you know it.

Two, in case you have managed to become thin, you will dream of food. Because it takes a good goodbye to food that you gulped down during pregnancy, to knock that weight off!

In my case, please make that dreams of cheese!

ALSO, DIET

This gives me the jeepers creepers!

 

E - ELEPHANT or EXERCISE

Again, only two possibilities. If you knock the fat off, you are the latter. Else, join me in being an elephant, or at least, feeling like one. I don't mean to bruise your ego, but I had days where I really felt like one.

Otherwise, your life will be centered around exercising and maintaining that fabulous shape you've managed to get into! 

F - FAT, WHAT ELSE

Need I say more?

G - GREAT

Great! You've managed to knock off all your pregnancy weight. Now what? The tougher part is to maintain it. How long can we survive on tasteless food that has to be eaten before 7 pm?

Also, GUILT

Guilty about eating what you ain't supposed to. It will kill you!

H - ERMM, HELLO?!

Errm, okay, how did those 2 kgs suddenly show up again?! It's that cheese you ate, hoping that it wouldn't show up! Well, it did! bwhahahah! I hate cheese. I love cheese.

I - IF AT ALL...

...you do manage to stay in shape, firstly, pass me those tips. Secondly, your life will take on a new meaning, because nothing lifts your spirits like good old weight loss. The sun will shine brighter, the days will be more beautiful, you will generally be a happy person. Give yourself a hug! Now, go clean that poopy diaper from the poopy bum of your little miss sunshine!

J - JEALOUS

I am officially jealous of you. And all those fellow mommies who've got their figures back. I love my body and what a glorious thing it did by giving birth, but man, IT'S A SHIPWRECK!

K - KICK THAT WEIGHT

Honestly, it's all about how your mind takes to weight loss. No matter how hard we kick and squat in the gym, it's what on your plate that counts. It feels amazing when so many people ask me what I did, I feel so humbled. But, I do tell them I do have another 10 to knock off. More importantly, I have had to really train my mind about what to eat. And, that is one emotional journey, to say no to food that you could die for.

L - LOVE

Somewhere, during all this time, you will probably also manage to love the new you. You will happily embrace it, because you aren't so short sighted like I am. I have  my own issues to deal with, so I'll happily take that short sighted perspective and continue with my life. Good on you, though!

M - MANAGE

How do you manage to take out the time to exercise, that's the question. With the constant feeding, peeing, pooping, the sleepless nights and days. The last thing you want to do is take out your planner and figure out that at 18 hours you will go for a walk. The reality is, in all probability, your baby will wake up from his nap at 1759 and start howling just when you were about to tip toe out the door! Bye bye walk, have fun without me!

N - NONETHELESS...

...life will go on even though you are still fat. Your baby will grow up too quickly, you would have joined back office too quickly. Weight loss will come and go, but those precious moments with your little cherubs make it all worth the jelly belly and the big fat thighs!

O - OOPS!

You ate after 7pm yesterday. Or ate too much! Or, ate dessert yesterday. And the day before! You naughty momma!

P - PIZZA

Ahhh, the love of my life, my BFF! How do I say no to thee? How do I offend your love for me and send you packing out of my life? Does adding a lot of veggies on you justify the lust? Thin base is better? Whole wheat, then? sigh... no? 

 

Q - QUESTION 

Am I too fat? Am I fat? Am I fatter than her? What about her? Surely, I am not THAT FAT?! C'MON! BE HONEST! I won't say anything, I promise. Yes, we can have sex tonight. Now, be a buttercup, and tell me, how fat am I, on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the fattest I cam be?

DID YOU JUST SAY 11? ELEVEN? E-L-E-V-E-N?! WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?! *&^#(#$)($*@_$@&!!#

I AM GOING TO MY MOTHER'S AND I WILL SEE YOU ONLY WHEN I FEEL LIKE LOOKING AT YOUR FACE! 

Have fun tonight!

R - RESISTANCE POWER

The mind is a strange thing. I look at stuff I am not supposed to eat and I keep telling myself, NOOOO NOOOO NOOOO, OKAY? JUST PLAIN NO!

After a few seconds: What's one bite going to do? I will eat like those models, you know, just taste it and spit it right out!!!

A few more seconds, and post one bite: OH MY GOD! I COULD CRY! WHAT HAVE I BEEN DOING TO MYSELF, SAYING NO TO YUMMY FOOD?!

NONONO, I MUST NOT. NO

THEN: It's just another bite! Surely, 2 bites won't add to my ass!

BEFORE I KNOW IT: What did I just do?! I ate the whole damn thing! God will curse me, my trainer will curse me, my conscience will curse me! You are a horrible looking fat woman who should die! Sigh...

S - SEXY MOMMA!

That's right! We can be sexy even with the weight! Round is a shape and we are in shape. So what if that shape comes in XXL size and 40DD lingerie?!

T - TOO TIGHT

Your clothes, that is. Pre pregnancy won't fit. Maternity ones make you look like a tent. New ones are too expensive to buy! Plus, you will get back in shape pronto! So why waste money on new clothes?!

U - UNDERMINE

Don't undermine the power of exercise, the size of your dinner and the resistance power and metabolism of that fellow mommy next door!

She did it because she exercised, ate too little and before 7 pm, and knew when to say no to food and what kinds to say no to.

V - VOLUPTUOUS

Refer 'L' - The new you will be voluptuous, of course! Pregnancy does make one a little wobbly and it expands your body structure, those bones and those muscles. Think of it as a free renovation you underwent. Because it's free, you obviously don't like it!

W - WEIGHT, OF COURSE

'NUFF SAID!

X - X-RAY

Weird X-ray reports will spook you, like mine did. Mine showed deposits of fat on certain organs. Apparently, it's okay at a certain level, but to me, it spelt death. Like I said, SPOOOOOOKY!

Y - YES, YOU CAN!

It is possible. It certainly is. Some find it really easy, others like me, really struggle. But, it can be done. Maybe the last 2 kgs will never go, but you have a baby to show for it. It's not that bad!

Z - ZEAL

It takes zeal, I tell ya! To hit the gym/track/pool, whatever regime you've got yourself going there, everyday. It's tough. Some days, you are tired! Heck, most days, you will be tired! You have a baby to take care of. And those cuddle monsters aren't easy to handle. You will probably have a yoga session without even realising it!

You must be making 7 course meals everyday! - Things you should never say to a Stay At Home Mom

Life has its own way of getting back at you. It bites you in the bum when you least expect it. Things that you thought of, plans that you made,  all of those go out the window when you least expect them.

Motherhood wasn't how I imagined it to be. I KNEW that it's not exactly a smooth journey, I knew that no two days are alike, and I certainly knew that it takes a lot of patience to be a mom.

If things were to go according to my plan, I would have been a hot yummy mummy right from the start. But, the reason this blog exists because, I AIN'T ONE! At this point, I have managed to knock off all of my pregnancy weight, but I am hoping to make the best of this spree and lose some more.

In my world, I would also have been a working mommy. But, here I am, changing my status on Facebook and other social networking sites and telling the world that I am a stay at home mom. To make it appear cooler, let's call me a SAHM.

As a SAHM, there's whole lot of things I COULD DO. HELL, I WANT TO DO! But, the 'M' in the SAHM means that I have no time for myself, because all of my living energy is spent running behind and taking care of little P. Of course, this is true of all moms, whether they work, or stay at home. Call me lazy, but I do like to use this as an excuse for a lot of things!

But, what gets my goat is the fact that a lot of people tend to think that just because I am a SAHM, I have all the time in the world to potter around and generally do things that I would like to do.

I've come across so many random and unwanted comments about my SAHM status, I am thinking, "let me tell everybody I've got a job that pays me shit loads of money and that from now on, I am going to work everyday and little P can grow up with me on the weekends!"

I would like to see how these very comments take on all judgy pants proportions and these same people would then talk about how well dressed I am and how my little boy is so royally ignored just because I spend all my time playing dress up!

Lesson learnt: THINGS YOU SHOULD NEVER SAY TO A SAHM

1) Oh wow! I am sure you get lots of time to make food from scratch, even 7-course meals everyday!

REALITY: I do have lots of time, although, I do wish I had some more. And then, some more. And more. 

REALITY: I do make food from scratch, where scratch means, 2 left over loaves of bread and leftover curry. 

REALITY: I could make 7-course meals, I probably even know how to. Except that it would take me SEVEN MONTHS to put that meal on the table for you to eat. Would you?

REALITY: The only meal(s) I do manage to make are the ones that little P eats, that too is possible with me trying to work with one free hand, the other trying to balance him on my hip, where he's glued all day everyday. Otherwise, I get him to sit on the kitchen floor and hand him an assortment of pots and pans, and then take 20 minutes to beg him to hand me something that I can use to cook.

2) Oh wow, you look fabulous! You are lucky you have so much time at home to look after yourself.

REALITY: Remember the hair?! It stays as a bun atop my head all day, in one place. It dare not budge, and I think that's because all the grease and the food that's thrown at me has decided to act as  glue for that bun of mine. Who wants hair mousse and hair spray?!

That wonderful smell I am giving out is also most probably stale food. Who needs YSL and Hugo Boss, eh?! There's little boss with his wiped off milk moustache on my tee to give off that nasal hair-burning stench.

3) At least you can sleep during the day...(while I work my butt off at work and get paid for it)

uhuh? Yathink?! So, here's what happened today: Managed to get little p to sleep at a time that I like, post lunch, you know, full tummy? Can't keep his eyes open anymore. I am actually smiling thinking of my award-winning achievement!

Anyhoo...

I had work to do, serious work, not the browsing kinds, on the phone, because I am too lazy to take out the laptop. zzzzz!

Before I realised, I had fallen asleep right next to him. 

Which is okay, but, the thing with breastfeeding babies/toddlers, is that they can smell you. Yup, which means, that when they wake up, for whatever reason, and if you are within breathing distance, they expect you to do your job of feeding them back to sleep, and not bother rocking them or singing a lullaby to get them back to sleep.

They are like, "Why are you even pretending that this is going to work and I will fall back asleep?! Just do your job, woman!"

Which is also fine, but, and here, breastfeeding mommies will agree, babies tend to wake up THE SECOND you fall asleep!

So, going back to your assumption, I would like to sleep during the day, and the night. But, I don't. Now, let's talk about how much money you make, poor you!

4) At least you don't have to buy expensive clothes!

Right. I do know lots of other people who would LOVE to be in PJs all day, and look like they haven't hit the shower in a million years. They are probably all me, in my gazillion avatars and are all called moms.

5) Your house must be so clean (I could see my face in those shiny floor tiles)

Yes, yes, yes. Everything shines at my place. The linen, the cutlery, the hardware, my face. Everything, okay? I am Cinderella and I have loads of time and inclination to go about scrubbing the floors and the china till you can see your face in it, all shiny, in your expensive clothes and lush perfume.

6) You should have gone back to your job when the time was right...

...because, now nobody will hire you.

Umm, because I would suck as a great employee?

NO, THAT'S DEFINITELY NOT CURRY! - Welcome to my house, here's what you will find

Hello and welcome to my world. And a bigger welcome to my house, dear neighbor. I know that we've known each other a long time, but you've never had the opportunity to come visit my place.

In the current circumstances, I will say it's your sheer luck, if you manage to walk out of this house without getting seriously injured, or die laughing. Whichever you choose.

But, please don't judge me. I was never like this, and neither was this house. We both looked good. We cleaned ourselves on a regular basis. We still do, except that, now, we hardly ever look clean!

So, like I said, don't judge us by the cover! Now that you are here, here's what you will find:

When you ring the bell, you will most likely hear shouting. Not the abusive kind, but it will most likely be me shouting at little P because he would have spilled something in the excitement of hearing the door bell ring.

Once you are in, you will be greeted by, what will, at first glance, appear to be a Tsunami. The code name for this Tsunami, and the many others that strike our house FIVE THOUSAND TIMES A DAY, is little P.

Yes, he is the same little monkey who is right this moment handing over his car to you, with shrieks of "CAAAAAR!!!", in a note of warm welcome. It's a good sign, trust me. 

Do come in!

Oh, no!! I AM SORRY, YOU STEPPED ON SOME SPILLED WATER! I think it's water, but, I wouldn't bet my life on it. I am not going to say what exactly it is, if it isn't water. Feel free to guess and die of shock!

Are you still wondering why I have some weird looking stuff on my nose, and why I still haven't bothered to wipe it?

That's milk shake. No, that's NOT HOW I DRINK MILK SHAKE!

It sits pretty there, because I have to do innovative stuff to get my toddler to eat and drink at times. So, yes, there's a good explanation for why I have a nose that makes me look like a fat and tragic clown.

Please, DO SIT!

OH NO!!! WHAT WAS THAT NOISE?!

Amidst giggles from little P, who thinks somebody let out a fart, I am trying to pretend no one farted, because I think I know that you just sat down on his little squeaky duckling! It's okay, we don't judge! We have a toddler at our place, there's no way we would ever judge anybody!

I am also sorry that I LOOK LIKE I HAVEN'T HIT THE SHOWER IN DAYS!

Trust me when I say this, I SHOWER TWICE A DAY! SO DOES LITTLE P!

But, alas, thanks to him and his toddler antics, both of us look like we desperately need a shower right now! I know that you might even be tempted to throw us both into a pool full of chlorinated water, because you think we stink!

Again, trust me, it's not us! In all likelihood, it's the little tidbits of food that little P keeps hiding under the sofa for doomsday, the day when he thinks his mommy might decide against giving him fresh food, and, God forbid, he will have to rely on the food store that he's opened behind the sofa, under the sofa, behind the bed, under his cot. BASICALLY, EVERYWHERE!

So, that's where that stench is coming from, because in my lazy avatar, I may just have forgotten to fish that food out today. Or yesterday. Or even the day before. Hence, the rotten stench!

Please don't go by how I look. I KNEW YOU WERE COMING! But, this is just how I dress these days. It doesn't matter whether I am home, or out for a walk. Or if the husband is back home after a month. 

I look the same all day, every day! The hair will definitely look like it is crying to be brushed. And washed. It's clearly forgotten what a wash feels like. It is planning to sue me for mental torture.

The red tee shirt that I am wearing...? I have 3 of these. To outsiders, it does look like I wear the same clothes everyday, I don't. I really don't. In fact, most days, I end up changing clothes thrice a day. Mostly because they will either have: poop, pee, mango shake, milk, some vegetable curry etc making weird doodles on my shirt.

Or, it will be because little P comes and wipes his face on my clothes while he's still eating. Like I said, please don't judge.

In all likelihood, you will end up sitting on the floor. One, because of the thousands of toy vehicles, broken and intact, that occupy a place of pride on the sofa; and, two, because there's some suspicious looking sticky stuff on the sofa. It's curry, I assure you. I can even sit on it, just to ease that frown off your face!

It could also be because little P is funnily too possessive of the sofa. He promptly kicks us off it, the second we lay our bums on it. He will keep kicking till we get off. 

Therefore, in order to keep our friendship alive, and to keep your bum in one operative condition, I will suggest you sit on the floor.

WAIT!!!

Let me first clean that sticky thing on the floor, as well. NO, THAT'S DEFINITELY NOT CURRY. Ermm, as of this moment, I cannot confirm what it is. 

Now, that you have somewhat settled, I am actually thinking of asking you to stay longer, just so that I can go and take a leak. Hell, maybe even shower!!!

IT'S OKAY - Stuff I wish I was told about parenting

As a new mom, I am constantly questioning myself. Even now, at almost-16 months, there are times when I feel like I am walking around with a big question mark on my forehead.

When little P has been crying for a long time, I fail to zero down on why he's crying. I try every trick in the trade to calm him, cajole him, talk to him, hell, even distract him. But, nothing works, and I am back to thinking, "I am a useless mom for not being able to get my child to stop crying!"

There are many a times I feel like I have been cheated upon, short changed, even. I feel like I wish I was told a lot of things about pregnancy and parenting. The real deal, you know? Not the stuff about sleepless nights and constant pee and poo.

Those things, everyone knows. But how many actually know what it's like to be a parent. Of all the advice that you get, how much is actually useful and makes sense?

1) I wish I was told that it's OKAY to have an abnormal pregnancy. I felt so judged when I was pregnant and having a tough time with the constant complications that arose. Everybody thought I was having a gala time staying at home and laid up in bed all day. Some even went to the extent of saying I was getting really fat because I was laid up all day and that I would have a really fat baby. Really?! Is that what you would say to someone who was sick and bed ridden? Then why differentiate just because I am pregnant?

2) It's okay to have a caeserean. What is it with women who gave birth the way nature intended us to? Why do they feel they have the right to judge those who delivered via "assisted childbirth"? I went through the whole shebang of labour and the pushing stage. But nothing came out. I felt cheated at that point. But, the intention was to have a safe delivery, my ego be damned.

How would you feel, if you sat on the pot for 5 hours and pushed that whole time, knowing that there was something inside that was dying to come out, yet it never did? Now, multiply that pain a million, heck, even a trillion times, and imagine that you are pooping a football from your frontal "stuff", and not the posterior!

Painful, much?! 

3) It's also okay to be in pain for a while. Or, in my case, a really long time. I took 6 whole months to recover completely. I only started walking at normal pace at around 4 months, I was in so much pain. I got myself checked, but there was nothing wrong. Yet, I was in pain.

And, so, I had to delay a lot of things that I could have started doing earlier. Like exercise. Or household chores.

But, all I got was judgmental responses. " Oh, c'mon! Nobody ever has so much pain!" You are making it up, it's not possible!"

Fine, I made it up, okay? Because I wanted to delay the process of losing weight. Right?! What a dumbass! Who in their right mind would make up such stuff?!

Which leads me to:

4) It's okay to be fat for a while. It really is. Good on you for having lost all your pregnancy weight as soon as your baby popped out! And look at those washboard abs of yours! I wish I could punch you, cuz it surely wouldn't hurt, right?! Steel abs, eh?!

What is it with fat women who think they can call others fat? Kettle calling griddle black?! Hypocritical much?!

I had this sooper fat woman tell me "IF YOU DON'T LOSE WEIGHT RIGHT AWAY, YOU WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO LOSE IT!"

YES, JUST LIKE YOU, you pretentious judgemental cow!

5) I really really wish someone had told me that breastfeeding is bloody hard work. Just to make it work is so difficult. It is such an emotional roller coaster!

Nobody ever tells you how tough it is. or how painful! Those who breastfed say some stupid condescending stuff, and those who didn't, they think formula is the answer to everything and whatever you are doing is absolutely wrong and breastfed babies are forever hungry.

These formula champions could even feed you a bottle, they are so stubborn!

6) I also wish that someone had told me that it's okay if you have to give formula. It's not the end of the world. A baby needs its nourishment, and if formula is providing it for whatever reason, so be it!

Would I judge you if you always ate rice thrice a day, and I didn't?!

7) It's equally okay if someone doesn't want to breastfeed. For whatever reason. It's her choice. Let's not get on our high horses and judge her. If her child wants to come back 18 years later and sue her, that's her problem. Life doesn't end just because somebody you know isn't breastfeeding her baby.

8) The most I wish for is that if somebody had told me how emotional the early days are. In hindsight, I think I cried more than little P! The hormones, the lack of sleep, the pain of the operation, the inability to lay down and get back up without any help, all those debilitating things can really pull you down. You wish someone had told you that it's okay to let the emotions take over.

9) And when the baby gets his own personality, it's also okay to lose the plot at times. I always keep thinking I am becoming a certified nut case. There are days, when I am really really close to tears. And, then, there are some, when I've actually shed them. I wish someone had told me that it's okay to feel this way at times. It doesn't mean you are a bad mom. It just means you are human and have feelings and that it's healthy to express them and not bottle them up.

10) It's equally okay to sometimes let housekeeping on the back burner. In my case, it's ALWAYS ON THE BACK BURNER. Maybe because I am lazy, or had a ceaserean, or because I feel mental most days! Who cares?! I am certain my priorities are bang on, and I won't let anyone question that.

11) The baby - it's okay if your baby ISN'T LIKE HERS. OR HER SISTER'S. Or the other kids in the family. Be proud that your baby is different! Who wants a baby that came out of a mold meant for cupcakes?!

Again, I will admit that I have received a lot of judgy-pant comments about little P and his ways. A number of people I know too well have made random comments about his sleep. IT'S ALL MY FAULT, according to them.

An experienced aunty told me that all the babies in her family would sleep for 7 hours straight in the day?! HUH? DID YOU JUST MAKE THAT STUFF UP?!

What?! He eats adult food! tsk tsk! What?! He's never had food out of a mixer/grinder?! tsk tsk

Err, do you notice that he chews and doesn't gag even though yours still gags at the age of 3?! tsk tsk

I AM GAGGING!

12) More than anything else, I really really wish that someone that told me that it's perfectly normal and natural to "listen" to your baby. Babies are intelligent peeps, I tell ya! We undermine them just because we have a college degree, and they don't.

I am so glad I always allowed myself to be driven and led by little P and not try and concoct my own logic about what I "thought" he wants.

I got told to let him go between feeds for FOUR HOURS! Which self respecting baby would go hungry for 4 hours?! Not even formula-fed babies go that long!

Another intelligent soul told me to feed him only once he'd really started crying! Hold on, I thought there's only crying! I had no idea there were levels of crying, like really started is level 3! CRAZY!

I would make it a point to talk to these people, but it's so difficult to maintain eye contact with them, because they refuse to get off their moral high horse.

In the meantime, I am going to pretend I like to exercise, and that my child sleeps like a dream and that we all have food out of a mixer. Does that make you happy now?

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.

Confessions of a tired mommy - Part I

Hello, my name is mommy.

I am a fat, tired and sleep deprived mom to a little monster named little P, who is now 15 months old.

I am a new mom. All this mommyhood stuff is new to me. I have taken care of babies before, and by taking care, I don't mean cuddled them and kissed them for 5 minutes, and as soon as they cried, promptly handed them over to their mommies.

No. I mean, I have seriously taken care of about 7-odd babies in a babysitter kind of way. I cleaned them, bathed them, fed them milk from their bottles, rocked them to sleep, held them while their mommies took 2 minutes off.

But, doing all this with my own baby is new to me, and I am one shit scared mommy. I worry too much. I might be the happiest mommy on the block, yet, I worry.

As a mom, rather, as a new mom, there are a few things I have done, I keep doing, or I might do in the future, that I am not proud of. Nothing serious, but little things that do matter, if only, at times.

So, today, I will confess to all these "crimes":

1) I haven't brushed my hair today. Or yesterday. Even the day before.

To be honest, I can't recall the last time I gave my tresses a good brush. I THINK I gave them a nice dose of shampoo on the weekend, but that's a faint recollection.

Don't get me wrong. I am not trying to be the next Lord Shiva with knotty hair and curly fingernails. Neither am I trying to look like a hippie who smokes weed and pretends to look like Bob Marley!

The thing is, my toddler is going through a very, very pesky phase. He howls and shrieks if I am out of eye sight. In his world. brushing my hair is a sign that I am heading out and leaving him behind.

So, in order to bring some peace to his crazy toddler world, I am not brushing my hair. There you go!

2) I sometimes want JUST TWO MINUTES to myself. But, as moms, that's not happening for the next 20 years, I suppose.

I want to pee in peace, without the door being banged, followed with screams of "mamma!".

Ditto, poop. The commode has sent out a search warrant for me, the person who used to spend hours sitting on it, reading the newspaper.

3) Some times, when little P wakes up way too many times at night, and the only way to get him back to sleep is to feed him, I feel like crying.

He is still not sleeping through, and on good days (nights?!), wakes up roughly 4 times. But, heaven help us when he's sick, or teething, which isn't too often, thank God!

This one time, I counted 12 times. I just wanted to dig a hole and bury myself in it. Then, I remembered, that in all probability, I will hear shouts of "mamma!", followed by some banging, and that, I might have to feed him to calm him down.

So, I thought to myself, "Aah! Now, I possibly can't feed him in a hole, so might as well be here, and feed him lying down, my eyes still closed, in the comfort of the air conditioner!"

4) Speaking of feeding...

For the past few days, I am scared shitless every time I have to feed him, because he's going through a biting phase, and damn! He bites me every time! GAAAH!

Some times, I scream and shout in pain, which scares him, and he cries. Other times, I try and ignore it, and just walk away. But, I still get cries! HUH! Little cheeky bugger!

5) I hate stepping out of the house. I HATE IT! I've got some fellow new moms in the neighborhood, and most of them have managed to knock of the pounds, while, I am ONLY 15 KGS DOWN!

I hate dressing up, mostly because I am yet to fit into my old clothes. I can fit into my jeans though! But nothing else! Of course, the hair brushing, or rather, the lack of it, doesn't help.

6) I look at fellow mommies' pictures and feel extremely jealous. I just do, I can't help it.

7) I can't remember the last time I paid attention to the husband, poor guy, bless him! I don't know where he is when he's doing multi city tours. I forget to make his morning coffee, I get delayed in serving him lunch. Shyte!

And don't even get me started on the sex!

8) I am scared of making conversation with adults. Even more, when those adults don't have kids themselves. My mind is thinking "Monster trucks and tractors", because little P is going through a "I love tractor" phase.

Worst, instead of coherent words, nursery rhymes come to my head. NOT GOOD!

9) I worry too much that I may never get back to a job. Or, even if I do, I will worry that little P isn't being taken care of.

10) I confess that having a baby has made some serious dents in my self confidence. Don't ask me why. It just has. It's the most beautiful thing that has happened to me, yet, I am not the woman I used to be.

11) I don't bother about how I look these days. I shower twice a day, but that's about it. I have been living in my PJs for 15 months now. I miss them when I wear "decent" clothes!

12) Remember the breast pump that saved my sanity and helped us breast feed? Well, it has been lying in its pack on the bedside table, for the last 13 months, because I am so scared that something will go wrong, and our feeding will suddenly stop!

So, I just clean the packaging, and let it remain there, lest it jinx me!

13) I am supposed to be on a "diet", not in a starving way, but a gentle way to eat less, and stay away from crap. I confess that I dream of cheese. It haunts me! I have to lose another 10 kgs, and that fatty b**ch won't let me!

There you go!

I feel better already. Now, let me quickly get to sleep and slip into deep slumber, which will take 2 hours, because all the day's nursery rhymes will come back to haunt me! Last night, my mind kept playing "head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes" on a loop!!!

Where's my weed?!

Do I NEED ANY MORE advice?!

Pregnancy, child birth and child rearing are the most poignant of experiences in one's lifetime. Ironically, the sheer emotional magnitude of these stages in one's life either really bring a couple close together, or bring out some shocking differences between them, Differences, that up until that point, didn't really matter in the entire scheme of things.

It's also a time in life when one faces two extreme sets of emotions. On the one hand, is the excitement of becoming parents, whether first time, or fifth. The number doesn't matter.

On the other hand, are the anxiety and the doubts. Will we be good parents? Will we be able to provide for this little person who is going to be dependent on us for very many years to come?

As parents, it becomes second nature to second guess things, at least in the initial stages, because that little person is unable to explain to us what's bothering her.

So, we second guess every time there's a whimper or a howl. Did he pee? Is she suffering from colic? Too hot? Too cold? Toddler frustrations... and the list can go on and on.

Most parents almost always share these episodes/anecdotes with fellow human beings, mostly to gain a shoulder to cry on, a little bit of sympathy, a little bit of advice.

And, here's the tricky part. The thing with advice is: it's free, every body wants to give it, yet, there are few takers.

And that's probably because, in the name of advice, we tend to get judged a lot. And. that's one thing no parent will accept: the judgemental comments.

As parents. we all make mistakes. We all try to learn from them, and move on. We accept the mistake, we humbly apologise and we look ahead.

Nobody wants to be told how to raise their child. Not for any other reason, but the fact that I would like to do it my way. You've had your chance, now let me have mine, IN PEACE!

Here are a few things, rather comments aka advice, that really, I MEAN, MOTHER OF GOD, really get my goat:

1) You should be breastfeeding because breast is best

2) You shouldn't be breastfeeding because s/he will grow up to become a really dependent child

3) You are STILL breastfeeding?! AAh, no wonder, he's like blah and blah.

4) You should have started solids at TWO MONTHS! He's anyway going to grow up and eat crap.

5) You should let him cry. It'll teach him a few things in life!

6) DO NOT RESPOND when he screams and howls and brings the roof down. He'll eventually learn how to self settle

7) Oh no! Poor you! He's still not sleeping through. It's because you:

a)  breastfed or are still breastfeeding

b) he shares bed space with you

8) What?! You give him normal food like us adults, and not sugar-coated factory-made baby food?!

9) He's NOT A DIAPER baby?! You shouldn't be running behind him, cleaning his bottom all day.

10) Don't whisper when he's asleep. Shout and holler so he will learn to sleep surrounded by din.

11) Oh no! You run to him too quick!

12) Oh no! You are too protective. Once you have had 3.4.5 babies, you'll learn to let go.

13) Babies are manipulative people! Don't let him dictate terms! He should know you are the boss!



You know what?! I am okay with whatever I am doing, and horror of horrors, so is my baby! He's happy and content that I am still breastfeeding him, even though he bites me AT EVERY FEED. He's also okay with the fact that I gave him formula when he needed it. I am not going to jail for that, and neither will any other mom.

Ditto with sharing our bed. In fact, currently, it seems like we are sharing his bed, because he promptly kicks the crap outta us, as soon as he is a wee bit uncomfortable, even at 4 am.

Same goes for us responding to quickly and not letting him cry. He is the boss in our house, and he knows it, and we are all fine with it. He only knows how to cry, that's his natural way of communicating. No good will come by showing who's the boss.

As for food, He's not had one spoon of baby cereal. He's extremely happy with his adult food and so are we. No body has to spend hours in the kitchen making baby food for him, and it's so cool to travel this way with no worries about buying cartons and what not.

I am not a perfect mom. Neither is my boy a perfect baby. He has his bad moments, I have mine. My husband isn't a perfect daddy either. Yet, we all love each other and are "OKAY" with the way we are.

You should be too...

And yes, even if I have FIVE MORE kids, I will still be this finicky. And, even if I don't, who cares?!

What's those water melons things on my chest?!

The first few hours were a haze, quite literally. The baby was snoozing, thank god, because so was I. The painkillers were damn good, I think in hindsight. I should have taken some for future purposes, when I want to run away from the toddler tantrums and the peepee waving and touching! ;)

We had deliberately chosen a smallish hospital, or rather, nursing home, in medical parlance, because we were a bit uncomfortable with the big corporate "advice and follow up" you get in the name of medicine.

We wanted sweet old Maharashtrian nurses to help us, and not coat-clad snooty ones, we were that finicky. I was hell bent on breastfeeding and knew for sure that those old aunties will know the way to go about it.

Luckily, for us, we didn't have many visitors, which was a blessing. Just like any other new mom, I wasn't too comfortable with loads of people coming in and all that touching and holding the baby, and kissing, OH MY GOD!!!

I would have nightmares thinking, oh dear, all those people are going to kiss the baby now that he's out of my womb and has to defend for myself in this ugly rotten world! sob!

Again, luckily, nobody kissed little P. Maybe because they had seen me give them sneaky little dirty looks, or maybe because people are more aware now, and realise that some serious germs *can* be passed on. Who cares?! the fact that his milky fat chubby cheeks were left untouched, was more than enough for me, protective mamma bear that I had become.

Any way... as some of you know, the milk takes a few days to "come in", as they say. I had read about this, and could feel it myself it wasn't "in" yet.

But, of course, in my life, nothing is as simple, right?! So, every couple of hours, until almost 2.5 days had passed, every nurse on a new shift would come and pom pom me and say," Has it come in yet?"

Errr, no, but thanks for pom pomming my breasts, you strange lady. It was nice knowing you too!

My doctor had given me strict instructions that I had to pass the "stool test" before leaving, which in layman's terms means you have to stand up, go to the toilet and poop by yourself, if you want freedom from the hospital. No bed pans, no nothing. You had to (wo)man up, and do the big job in the big pot. Yep, poo poo in the potty!

For one whole day, I was scared shitless, pun intended, to not eat anything, because the prospect of standing up, and walking to the loo was giving me goosebumps.

It would take the husband forever to help me change sides, because I would scream in anticipation as soon as he would touch me, and more so, because I was still quite numb, waist down. This was an irony, you feel numb, but there's horrible pain.

In the meantime, yet another shift change, and yet another pom pom, "Is it there yet?"

And, this time, after what felt like a zillion pom pomming of the cow-like udder, EUREKA! IT'S THERE!!!

Yes, yes, yes!!! Aah, no wonder, I thought I had suddenly grown water melons on my chest.

Bye bye, 40DD, hello! 42 GG!!

Should we name the baby Rafael, as in Nadal?

D-Day had finally arrived, much to my glee!

Yes, Yes!!! You guessed it, it was time to EAT EGG AND CHEESE WRAPS again! Make that a double please! I have no shame in admitting I can gobble two at a time ;)

This was our penultimate meeting with the doctor and it was a little difficult to accept that the next time we go there, it would also be the last time I would lay my hands on a egg wrap and not feel guilty about it. sniff sniff!!

Any how, here's another thing about pregnancy. The fastest road to divorce is the one you take in pregnancy when you have to zero down upon a name for the baby, and that's when you know that your spouse LOVES HIS FOLKS more than he loves you.

This moment, when this revelation is out in the open and is there to stay forever, is a time point in a married couple's life.

Of course, like all pregnant women, I had already decided on boy and girl names, probably from the time I got my two positive lines on the peeing stick. And of course, they had to be COOL NAMES, and definitely neither Tamil nor Bengali.

No way Jose! There would be no Muthu or Mishti! Oh nononono! This was my cupcake, I was the oven for NINE FRIGGING months. There's no way I could let the grampas and granmas take away my moment by giving the baby a real tragic name!

The husband, on the other hand, had already decided that he would VETO each cool name I threw across. He knew the real me, he knew I would come up with some Hollywood-inspired or F1 or tennis-inspired name.

Much to my dismay, before I could even suggest those names, he said no to Rafael, Pete, Steffi!!! HUH?! Did he not know who these people were?! Of course he did, but he was having none of them, or rather, their name sakes, in our living room.

This is also the time in your life when marriage politics comes into play. You have to make everyone happy, there's no denying that. And, by everyone, I mean the In-laws. And that's a tough nut to crack, ain't it?!

We have this tradition of naming babies after grandparents, sort of like an Indian version of George I and Louis XV. But my pseudo-intellectual half-Bengali genes were vehemently protesting against being mommy to a Swamy I or a Muthu III.

And neither was I going to be mommy to a Rabindranath junior or a Satyajit junior!

So, in the spirit of secularism, we decided to say byebye to Tamil and Bengali names and just came up with the letter 'P', because, it's mommy-in-law's initial.

But, what about MY MOMMY?!

Husband: And, what about my DADDY?!

Gaaah! Egg wraps, where are you when I need you?!

Mommy and daddy and all kinds of genes be damned, I was in labour already and I had no idea!

The doctor told me, "You are going to deliver in less than 48 hours!"

And indeed, I did!