Letter from a mommy to her little boy, regarding PEE PEE

Dear Little P

This is in regard to the below-mentioned task that you performed today with utmost sincerity and patience. The task that lasted a very long while, or at least, that's what it felt like.

I understand, that as a little boy, in fact, simply as a boy, it is under the purview of your job profile of being a boy to touch yourself constantly.

But, as a member of the opposite gender, and more importantly, as a concerned mother, please allow me to write this letter to you to "talk about things".

I also understand that after a few years, this letter might somehow fall into your possession, so I will try to keep it simple and clean, for fear of embarrassing you later.

First and foremost, there is no need to touch yourself constantly. Rest be assured, that IT will always be there. Unless, God forbid, some calamity strikes, or I don't know, you make some other decisions, IT will be there.

So, therefore, I beg you, try and refrain from feeling it every few minutes, hours.

There's a reason why I don't allow you naked bum time anymore. and, you guessed it, IT is the reason.

I find it a bit alarming that your face and your grin take on evil connotations as soon as you realise that your knickers are off, and you get busy. Please, get that grin off of your face, and take a look at the mess you've made.

You know how YOU touch yourself and then go and touch your granny. It's not cool! NOPE.

Also, not at all cool to touch yourself and touch the food that you were eating. 

Let me also tell you, that IT IS NOT OKAY to feed IT, OKAY?!

IT doesn't require mangoes, sapodilla and water melon to be fed. IT has its own way of finding nutrition, therefore, you don't have to be the caregiver.

This is especially true if you intend on sharing food with IT. I am sure IT will manage on its own, without taking a bite off that bread from your plate.

Kindly also do not think of touching me after you've done you know what. I am your mommy, yes, I gave birth to you, yes. You were in my womb for 9 months, yes. But, NO TO THE THING I MENTIONED, OKAY?! JUST PLAIN NO.

Also, if food does happen to fall on IT, in the event that you are eating with your knickers off, as tempting as it may be, please don't pick food off IT and put it back in your mouth.

You also don't have to call our attention towards you when you are busy with IT. We KNOW what you are up to, and we are trying our best to avoid looking at you. So, let's try and keep it at its ignorant best, yeah? When you grow up and hear 'ignorance is bliss', you will know why.

I should also tell you that our help is equally not interested in what you are up to. So, there's no need to call her attention as well. I am happy with the way things are going on the domestic front, so please don't do something that will lead to a sexual harassment case.

You know how it's normal for you to tug at IT for hours on end just to see how far IT will go? It physically pains me to look at you doing that to yourself, so, please, STOP PULLING IT.

I sincerely worry that the strength with which you pull IT, IT WILL COME OFF ONE DAY. I do worry about this.

I am pretty sure that all this is normal, and as I said, under the purview of your life as a boy. I also know that your daddy will think I am an idiot for thinking that you won't be doing this, just because I pretend to be a prude when it comes to IT.

But, that's okay with me. I just want you to know that you don't have to take this job so seriously, and it's okay to let go at times, pun intended.

A concerned Fatmommy

The ABC of P - Pregnancy and Parenting

I've been thinking, what if everything that happens in and around pregnancy and parenting could be fit into the ABC. Just 26 characters and what each one stands for, during those 9 months and the rest of your life.

A - ADVICE

This one is number one, obviously because it's A. But, more than that, it's because the second you announce to the world that you are pregnant, the advice starts pouring in. You suddenly are trending on the advice graph, because everyone is talking TO YOU, ABOUT YOU.

Mind it, very rarely will you come across advice that will actually HELP YOU. Mostly, it will just be well-meaning strangers and relatives and friends giving you tid bits about them and their aunty's mumm'y neighbor's uncle's wife's pregnancy which WAS THE SAME, OH MY GOD!

Even the molecules of Hydrogen and Oxygen in your glass of water will have advice for you, JUST BECAUSE YOU ARE PREGNANT AND ARE LOOKING FOR ADVICE!

B - BUMP, BABY, BUM AND BREASTS

Bump - everyone will want to touch it. Ditto, the baby. The other two, not so much. Sorry, breasts, yes. Once you deliver, EVERYONE IN YOUR DELIVERY TEAM will touch them to feel for milk.

The bum? well, It gets REALLY BIG and that's why it gets honorary mention here. And, it takes forever to knock the fat off it. REFER TO U - UNDERWEAR

ALSO, BAMBOOZLED

That's because the A-ADVICE you get is so useless, you feel like you've been bamboozled! Nobody tells you the real thing. Everyone gives anecdotal evidence, but nobody offers any intelligent advice on how to tackle a problem.

Ohhhh! You are going to miss sleep!

Okay, if so, then why don't you tell me ways on how I can GET SOME SLEEP?!

C - CHILD BIRTH

The D-day you've been waiting for is here. And you are shitting bricks. And then you pop out a football from your "down there". Yes, okay, need I say more?

ALSO, CAESAREAN. Considered to be an "easy" option for child birth. Except that, it isn't. The pain lasts for months. And, there's always a weird-shaped lower tummy that hangs over.

D - DADDY

The love of your life now has a new love and you are okay about it. Mush! It's sheer bliss to see daddies holding their babies and smelling their hair and that lush baby smell.

E - EASY

Everyone tells you it's easy. It isn't, okay? It's somewhere in between. Just accept it and move on.

ALSO, ENERGY, OR THE LACK OF IT

Pregnancy can be hard on some women. There's no "glow". There's only a "blow", as in body blow, because everything aches!

F - FAT

This one is for me, not for the fellow mommies who've gone back to shape.

We gave birth. TO A PERSON. It's okay to be fat for a while, at least till you are feeding that person.

ALSO, THE F***, You will say this A LOT! In the initial days, when you are getting over the shock of everything that no one told you about (READ A - ADVICE).

Once your baby turns into a toddler, you will find yourself replacing the F*** with FLUSH, FISH, FREAK, FAN. Anything that starts with 'F', because it's only when the 'F' leaves your tongue, do you realise that you would rather not complete the sentence.

G - GOOF UPS

There will be many. Inside out pants. Backside-front diapers. Inside out Tee shirts, yours, not the baby's. Because the baby was crying and you didn't want to rush out naked to ask Daddy for help.

H - HIPPOPOTAMUS

This is also for me. I feel like one. I will eventually get over it, ONE DAY.

ALSO, HORROR MOVIE

Because, life suddenly feels like one. Parenting is hard work and you don't get any bonus or "good job" cards. You constantly feel lost and scared and are forever questioning yourself.

I - AS IN I, ME, MYSELF

You tend to forget yourself once the baby arrives. And, that's okay. You WILL HAVE TIME once he's 20 years old.

J - JUST LIKE THAT

And, just like that, he will start sleeping through, Or take to potty training. Or start walking/talking/crawling. Parenting is full of beautiful surprises.

K - KICKS

During pregnancy, from the inside. Once they are out, THEY CONTINUE TO KICK YOU! While changing diapers during their infancy stage, just because they life how their legs move when they kick!

And, as a toddler, they will kick just because they like the way you screamed like a wimp when you were kicked.

L - LOVE

The moment you lay your eyes on your baby, that's pure, eternal love. No amount of pee, poo and vomit will ever make you think, "let's go on a break". No. THIS IS IT. Time for the husband to take a back seat!

M - MILK

You will find yourself talking about this till your baby is 6 months old. It will feature in every random conversation you will have.

ALSO, MOM, MOTHER

Because, you will suddenly have so much respect for her. You will feel ashamed and embarrassed for things you may have said to her in your teenage years.

MOM, I AM SO SORRY AND SO THANKFUL. This will play in your head, over and over again.

N - NEVER SAY NEVER

To anything. Because, life comes full circle. You will find yourself sitting in the middle of the day with a pot as your hat, even though all this buffoonery was below your standard.

Kids make destiny bite you in the bum, okay? SO, SMILE AND PRETEND TO FEED THAT POWDER BOTTLE!

ALSO, NO

You will find yourself saying this TWENTY THOUSAND TIMES  A DAY!

NOOOOO! DON'T LICK THE CARPET! NOOOOO! DON'T EAT THAT SHOE! NOOOOO! DON'T PUT YOUR HAND IN YOUR OWN POOP!

O - OH MY GOD

REFER TO F***, as OMG will also be a sound replacement for WTF?!

You will OMG a lot! OMG, THERE'S VOMIT ON MY SHIRT AND I KEPT THINKING WHAT ON EARTH STINKS SO MUCH!

P - PEE PEES

This one is for fellow mommies to little boys. They start touching theirs WAY TOO EARLY! I was hoping the touching wouldn't kick in till teenage years. Sigh. What was I thinking?!

Q - QUESTIONS

Talking toddlers have a way of asking the most inane questions. What do dogs eat? Why is aunty thin and you are fat? Where do babies come from?

'NUFF SAID!

R - REASONS

You will constantly find yourself defending your parenting choices. So, there will be reasons for everything that you do, that others may deem "wrong", because they "NEVER DID IT THIS WAY IN THEIR TIME".

S - SEX, OR THE LACK OF IT

I am NOT commenting on this any further!

T - TODDLER TANTRUMS

Aahh, I end up finding myself in the midst of one every five minutes! They sure are fun!

One of these days, I am definitely pulling my own hair!

U - UNDERWEAR

Big, ugly, scary ones. The ones your great great granny wore for her first night. Because, your B - BUM will achieve gargantuan proportions.

V - VALUE

Everything in life takes a new meaning. Having a baby teaches you so many things, the most of all being, value for yourself, your partner, your marriage, your parents. It makes you a better person.

W - WOW

REFER, OH MY GOD. You will say this a lot. Wow, he's used up all his pants today! Wow, he ate my lunch and threw his behind the sofa!

X - XYLOPHONE

Because NO OTHER WORD THAT MAKES SENSE STARTS WITH X!

You can replace this with X-ray, if you want!

Y - YES

REFER NEVER SAY NEVER. Pants that have projectile vomit on them? SURE, YES, I will clean them.

Try to put him to sleep for the FIFTH TIME in the last 2 hours?! yes, I will do it.

Z - ZOMBIE

NEED I SAY MORE?!?!

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!!

The silly things that make a mom...

Only a mom can know the true beauty of doing mom-like things and saying mom-like sentences.

Some things, only mom are capable of doing, and these things perfectly describe motherhood and its experiences in few short words.

As a new mom, I find myself doing and saying lots of crazy things, which were "below" my creative level earlier. But, having said that, I find myself a lot happier when I do stupid things with little P now, than having done award-winning creative stuff earlier, which never made me content.

Like, drinking milk from a glass and "making" a white moustache for yourself, just so you can entice your toddler enough to drain his glass of milk.

Or pretending to feed the truck in his toy bag, just so that he follows suit and ends up feeding himself in the process.

These silly tasks are so fulfilling, yet so silly, that you wonder what made you "look down" upon them earlier. Because, nothing beats the smile on that face once you have created a perfect moustache on yourself.

As a self-confessed cheese addict, I am finding it hard now to not have any because of the weight-loss "program" I am on. I have to buy it, because I give it to little P as an additional source of calcium and fat. And, so, it gives me the jeepers creepers to see it lying in my fridge, but not having nay of it!

You know you are a mom when the cheese addict in you sees a packet full of cheese slices and pretend not to have seen it, because you bought it only for your toddler, and there's no way you are claiming it to be yours.

The weight loss program also means, I have to go easy on a lot of foods I was earlier allowing myself to eat. This includes leftovers of little P's breakfast, lunch and dinner, which, thankfully, weren't too much!

You know you are a mom when your toddler spits out a morsel and you quickly put it in your mouth, because you don't want him to eat food off the floor. But then, dammit! you are reminded of the diet, and baam! it's too late for you to spit out that absolutely mouth watering stuffed bread you made with lots of ghee! SIGH!

You know you are a mom when you open your bag at the grocery store to look for money, and lay down the following things on the counter: A PLASTIC COW, RATTLE, A HALF-BROKEN RUBIC'S CUBE, A DIAPER, A PRETEND PHONE.

And then, EUREKA!!!

NO, NO, NO, not the money. But the ABC board book that has  been missing from so long, you were convinced your toddler ate it!

Sleeping at night, I often wake up because I find myself being poked in the bottom by the horns of a STUPID PLASTIC STAG, that my little P held onto while he fell asleep. GAAH! HORNS IN THE BUM AT 2AM!!!

After having had little P, we have the chance to finally go meet family back in the husband's hometown. Here's the catch: I wasn't so excited about meeting the family after 4 years, than I was about little P being able to see FARM ANIMALS IN THE LIVE!

And, for me to show off my animal sounds skill that I have to little P! WOOHOO! He will finally know that how mommy moos like a cow and brays like a  donkey is actually how a cow and a donkey sound!

You know you are a mom when, on your anniversary, instead of buying sexy, hot lingerie online, you find yourself buying ugly granny pants because your toddler found the hole in your old ones and poked enough for it to become like a crater on bloody Mars!

As a mom, it's also okay to walk around the house, pretending that you are learning how to strut it like a super model, when you have a green-coloured plastic bowl atop your head and you are shaking your booty at the same time! I AM SEXY AND I KNOW IT!!!

I am also a typical mom, when I snooze for 5 minutes in the afternoon, holding TIGHTLY ONTO MY TODDLER, because he refuses to sleep and insists on playing. And, so, I pray like crazy that he doesn't get up and feel very guilty if I do manage to get 5 minutes of rest.

And, don't even get me started on kind of words and sentences I find myself saying these days. It's a good thing, because, one, I am so strict about any cuss words and slang language.

The bad, or rather, funny part, is that I find myself saying things I never thought anyone did. For example, it's perfectly normal now for me to say, " DON'T LICK THAT POWDER OFF YOUR FOOT!"

or

"Don't you put your finger in my belly button, or dad's!"

"DO NOT GO AND POM POM GRAMPA'S BOTTOM EVERY TIME HE BENDS DOWN!"

The last one has me dying LOL, but I have to set limits, and so, I find myself occasionally screaming those words out!

I also know I am just a normal mom, when I try and recall the lyrics to "wheels on the bus" at 2 am when I go to the loo!

Or when, I come across some suspicious-looking brown stuff on the floor, and touch it to figure out if it's a piece of fruit, OR POOP!!!

I know for a fact, that when I walk into the doctor's with kajal/kohl in just one eye, she's not judging me. Or laughing at me.

Or if she points to the rice in my hair. That's okay too. I am just being a mom.

Top 10 excuses a new mom uses, to NOT have sex!!!

Having a baby is a funny thing. Not funny haha, but more like, sad funny, if you know what I mean...

The one act needed to have a baby is the act of having sex, and yet, the moment the baby is born, that's the very act that goes out the window! kaboom!

NO SEX FOR YOU FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIVES!

I mean, seriously, first, the emotions are way too much and get in the way of every thing. Then, the feeding, and the constant pooping and peeing that take up so much time, that there's no time for any thing else!

And, even if one did have the time, who has the inclination?!

If you have had a cesarean, then most doctors ask you to take it easy for at least 2 months.

And, of course, this is India, where nobody, and I really mean nobody, has sex after they get pregnant. Women are promptly packed off to their mothers', lest their increased level of hormones get better of their brains and their libidos!

In the early days, I would constantly either smell of stale and sour milk, or poop, or pee, or even vomit. After a while, I just stopped bothering, and at times, I am sure I forgot to change as well!

And nobody wants to have sex with you if you stink of any of those things!

Here are top 10 reasons a new mom gives to not have sex:

1) Not tonight love, I just gave birth (a few weeks after the birth).

2) The baby didn't sleep all day. Or night. Therefore, neither could I. Hence, I am sleepless. And tired. So don't even bother asking me. Now, go sleep!

3) The baby didn't feed well today. I am feeling very upset! How can you even think of sex when your own child hasn't eaten all day?!

4) The baby fed TOO MUCH today! I am exhausted! Do you have any idea what's it like to have a baby attached to your boobs ALL DAY?! Of course not, you don't have boobs! Now, go sleep and take that hand OFF ME!

5) You know that baby from the next building? He's too unwell. I got extremely emotional seeing him. My hormones are all over the place! sob sob! I can't get in the mood feeling like this! How can you be so void of feelings?!

6) The baby is 3 weeks, 1 day, 2 hours and 35 seconds old! Look, how time has flown by! It's time to celebrate our bundle tonight! Let's NOT HAVE SEX and just cuddle and look at our wonderful creation sleep peacefully!

7) Your mom just phoned me to give me wonderful advice on how to bring up MY BABY!!! #&$(%(%&%&# YOU KNOW YOU AREN'T GETTING ANY, DONTCHA?!

8) I had a huge fight with my mom today! I am feeling very emotional! Don't even bother looking at me, okay?!

9) Not tonight darling, I just gave birth! (3 months later)

10) WHAT?! Have sex on the same bed where OUR OWN baby is asleep?! What if he wakes up and sees us?! He will be scarred for life! And, we definitely can't have sex once he's up!

I have LOTS MORE up my sleeve. Those shall be saved for rainy days! ;)

DISCLAIMER: I am not saying I used any or all of these, that's giving away too much information! And a lot of you know way too much about me already!

Also, if any of your wives or girlfriends use any of these excuses, then thou shall not blame me!

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?!

Look, mommy! Instead of milk, there's blood coming out!

The last time I checked, it had been 3 HOURS since little P had started feeding. Oh yeah, those cluster feeds, when your little monster can literally feed for hours on end, can break the hardest of human beings.

I know a fellow-mom whose little one once fed for some 14 hours non stop!!!

Me, I was so ecstatic that little P was feeding from me, that 3 hours seemed nothing. My doctor had advised me to lock ourselves in a room, no disturbance, put on some music to ease my anxiety over feeding and just feed feed feed.

So, in true nerd style, the ipod was always at the bedside, the room was always comfortable, there was a water bottle and a straw, LOADS AND LOADS of pillows to support me and little P, and just us.

More importantly, I had three soldiers literally standing on one foot, ready to take orders from a screaming me, every time I wanted something. Mom, MIL and the husband were equally happy that things were finally working for us, and ready to provide me with a helping hand and leg!

There was a flip side to this, though. Our little P, it turned out, was quite a biter!

Only a nursing mother knows how painful it is to be bitten by a baby whilst feeding!

Man! Do no underestimate the power of those gums. Teeth are overrated! A little nip is all it takes for the blood to start oozing out instead of milk!

I sometimes think, maybe it's a good thing that nature provided women with two breasts! I would be retired hurt from one side for days on end. As soon as it would repair, bam! The other side would get seriously nipped, and I would have to suspend feeding from that side for at least 3 days for it to heal completely.

Here's another beautiful thing about breastfeeding. If you rest a injured side for too long, you end up getting either engorged, or with block milk ducts.

And when I say that getting spanked on your bottom is probably a lesser pain any either of these two bit***s, I am right!

Mother of god! The pain, and the shivering and the fever that follow these two beauties, oh wow!!!

This one time, I was feeding from the nipped side, I looked down, and he looked like a little vampire! His mouth was covered in MY BLOOD!

I hadn't realised, but I had seriously "broken a boob", as they say. There was blood gushing out like a waterfall, little P had no idea had he was guzzling on my blood, and his torso was also covered in blood!

The emotional trauma of getting bit was too much for me to handle. This was a recurring thing for me. Every few days, I was heard screaming my lungs out, crying hysterically, rushing to the washroom to see the damage and eventually roam around the house with a smelly Tee-shirt that would reek of milk, because I would leak to the moon and back, during those rest days.

Apart from the biting, things were going okay, I suppose. But, there was a weird part: Little P was refusing to sleep. This was one non-sleeper. He just wouldn't sleep. He would feed for 3 hours, but sleep for 10 minutes, and wake up for another feed.

So, we continued giving him his top-ups here and there, but he kept dropping weight, until one day, we got him weighed, and he had dropped roughly 1.5 kgs. Which is like some 20 kgs in adult weight.

My ego was satisfied that breastfeeding was working, but this wasn't how I wanted it to work. The doubts and the questions were back.

Is garlic better than guilt?

The thing with guilt is: IT'S A BLOODY BITCH!!!

As I see it, guilt is like a giant, enormous and invisible spider on your back. It's huge, but because it is invisible, only you can feel the burden of its weight and everybody else around you wonders why it's bothering you!

For sure as hell, they can't see it, so they don't know what it's like to feel guilty about something.

Today is an apt day to write about guilt, because today, I feel guilty.

Yes, I indeed chomped away on a pizza, but that's not what's killing me on the inside.

I did something awful, but I shall munch on that guilt myself.

Going back to the past...

This guilt was at work then as well. Breastfeeding was turning out to be a nightmare. Nobody at my place understood what I was going through. They probably thought I was selfish for trying again and again to get little P to feed from me, get him all worked up, and then give up and feed him formula!

Might as well have given it to him in the first place, dumbass!!!

And then...

The doorbell rang...

My saviour had arrived!!! And no, no pizza this time!

It was the breast pump I had ordered! Woohoo! Hello, watermelons, whatcha gonna do now, eh?!

So, off I went, on a date with the pump. Now, this breast pump is the UNSEXIEST THING ever invented for those ladies.

Not even the largest, ugliest maternity bra comes close to this ugly monster which goes grrr grrr when you put it on to you! It's a horror show, alright!

Any hoo... This wasn't a workable solution. Firstly, my milk was quickly drying up because nothing can possibly suckle and remove milk from a breast the way a baby can. Do not underestimate the power of a baby's suckle!

Moreover, it would take me ages to get tiny amounts of milk and the whole process was so damn frustrating.

I was losing trust in my own body and its ability to take care of something that it had created. I mean, what good a mother was I, who couldn't feed her own baby.

The pediatrician's words had killed me. I was ready to die. I was ready to do anything.

At times like these, the mother-in-law sure has some ideas up her sleeve.

When I said anything, I meant anything except garlic. I seriously hate those bastards! And guess who knew that...?! ;)

Sure enough, a lovely concoction was prepared. This was no concoction, it was the juice of a million garlic pods crushed to death and fed to me, so I could die. The husband pinched my nose and almost sat on top of me, lest I kick him you-know-where. And the MIL, ah bless her! She poured a GLASS FULL OF GARLIC JUICE down my throat!!!

Frankly speaking, I don't know what worked. My pigheadedness, the stupid effing garlic "concoction" or just God's will, but one day, I randomly decided to pop little P on, and VOILA!!!

Guess what, he happily guzzled away!

Hooray! Just like that, my worries all faded as he fed...

And fed...

And fed...

And fed...

And then some more...

World Wrestling Federation, Tamil-Bengali style!

So, after the ridiculously fat me and my even fatter body parts had been stuffed into the horror film lingerie, it was time to say good bye to the hospital and the amazingly helpful nurses and the doctor.

This was an extremely emotional moment, especially for me. Roughly 8.5 months ago, I was laid in the next room, upside down, not knowing whether the baby would survive and come out a happy, healthy and screaming little monster.

And yet, here we were, ready to take him home, all wrapped up, warm and squishy, some what doughnut like!

The car journey was quite uneventful. Just like any new and first time parents, we informed the driver to not go beyond 40kmph, and I think, everytime he managed to get his foot on the pedal, we were quick enough to admonish him!

And everytime the warm January sun hit little P's face, both of us would quickly cover his face, lest he get tanned, or his eyes get damaged, or worst, IF HE WOKE UP!!!

We reached home, and the events that would unfold would lay the foundation for the Civil Unrest that was to follow at our place for the next one month.

War was soon going to be declared between Tamil Nadu and West Bengal, and we had no idea!

All through the pregnancy, the MIL was away, taking care of the other grand kids, and my mother dear took care of me. Now that MIL was here, ehm ehm... those who are married, or better, watch TV soaps, would know what follows when these two women are pitted against each other.

This is basically a gentler version of the World Wrestling Federation, but without the push up bras and oily bodies. Also, it ain't physical, much to voyeurs' dismay! ;)

Any how...

We were first greeted by two bulls, sorry, women, running towards us, a bit like the Spanish San Fermin, or rather the running of the bulls!

A version closer to home is the running of the bulls in Madurai, Tamil Nadu, with matadors in sexy lungis, or veshtis, whichever you prefer. But the men are definitely more handsome!

MIL somehow managed to reach us first (BOOOO! WEST BENGAL!!!) and greeted us Tamil style, of course, turmeric and vermillion and the whole shebang. Very good, we thought!

Runner Up Bengal to follow...

We were greeted, yet again, sans turmeric and vermillion, but edible oil, not ON US, but around the door frame. SAD SHOW, WEST BENGAL! BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!

The husband and I exchanged some glances. Now, those of who you are married, happily or not, doesn't matter, will know the power of these glances that spouses exchange.

When photographers say, 'A picture speaks a thousand words', they have no idea how many words are silently spoken when a husband and wife share these looks.

The best part is, these glances are open to interpretation! ;)

What we actually "said" was:

Him: Whoop whoop! Amma won!

Solemnly, do you think what I think?

Me: Mom LOST, because I TOLD HER TO BACK OFF, OKAY?! We Bengalis are way smarter and quicker than you Tamilians! Huh! To challenge the descendants of Rabindranath Tagore and Satyajit Ray?!

Solemnly, yes, I too think what you think.

Him: So, basically, for the next one month, till my mom is here, idlis (fermented rice cakes) are going to be  pitted against macch bhaat (fish curry and rice), from morning to midnight?!

Me (to myself): We Bengalis and our maach bhaat ARE SO GOING TO DROWN THOSE SILLY IDLIS! BWAHAHAHAHA!!!

Honey, I shrunk your underwear!

The moment arrived, the big one we had all been waiting for!

Little P was fast asleep and big P was waiting for me to get dressed, while a cab and FIL waited for all of us to pick up our bums and move.

I was quite smug about the fact that now that I had finally given birth, the weight was just going to drop off like the price of mangoes in monsoon, and whoom and boom! I would magically fit into my old clothes now that there would be no bump.

I picked up the lingerie and IT WOULDN'T FIT!!!

It was as if it was 3 sizes too small! WHAT THE FISH?! Not the absolutely unsexy bra, nor the horrendous granny pants! $%^*())&^#@@

The cabbie was honking, the FIL was muttering something in Tamil and the husband was being patient, maybe because he didn't want to mess with the fresh dose of post partum hormones I had warned him about!

I had no idea what to do. I was angry, I was close to tears. I had ordered a maternity/feeding bra somewhere in my last trimester and I was, honestly speaking, very embarrassed when I was placing the order online.

The whole online world and everybody at the lingerie e-store would know my Pamela Anderson bra size! But, I had no choice. I was in desperate need of new (read bigger) ones!

How was I to know that even the biggest size of my life would now suddenly be 3 sizes too small?!

And the sooper dooper big granny pants, the stuff that sexual nightmares are made of, those had shrunk too!

They HAD SHRUNK! Because, I possibly couldn't have become bigger now that the baby was on the outside!

As the honks and muttering grew, I had no option, but to stuff "myself" into the top. At one point, I thought I would suffocate to death, I was that tight!

The underwear?! Gaaah! That's another story!

When you live in a joint family, the older and elder members of the family know a thing or two about what in India is known as "jugaad". That is, an ad-hoc and impromptu solution, that borders on the ridiculous at times!

So, to cut a long story short, I basically just ripped the elastic off the granny chuds as much as I could, and, VOILA!!! There it was, a bigger version of the stupidly disappointing granny pants!

Aaah, those thunder thighs had some new friends, a la old-wine-in-new-bottle kind of friends!

POO POO IN THE POTTY, POO POO IN THE POTTY!!!

I have no recollection of how night 2 passed, but Day 3 arrived, and lo and behold! It was the day that we had to...

...Yes, yes, yes!!! you guessed it!

This was D-Day. It was time for me to pass the stool test and I was pooping in my pants (NOT). I had slowly managed to get off the hospital bed and start walking. It was a bit weird at first, this feeling of suddenly feeling so light without the bump.

Pregnant women across the world will nod in agreement when I say we tend to waddle as soon the bump gets a bit bigger and tends to come in our way from all sides. You see a woman who walks like a duck, but there's no quack quack happening? Yep, pregnant woman on board! Beware of us waddlers!

Our hips don't lie, as well! They tend to balloon thanks to the hormones or the cheese, in my case. So, we have no choice, but to waddle with all that fat ruining our centre of gravity and making us look like fat little ducklings unsure of where our next step is going to land!

Of course, the fact that you can't see your own feet because your bump and those boobs get so darn big doesn't help! Dammit, I can't see my toes!

Any hoo... I waddled around the room, around the floor, me and my big bum going quackity quack. In case you've forgotten, I also had my watermelons to carry around me, adding to all that waddling.

Give way. give way! Here comes the lady from Room 1, her bosom leading the way, and her bum following suit!

This one time, I was standing, whilst talking to a visitor, and before I knew it, a pool of milk had formed around my feet! I kept thinking I was sweating, because honest to God, I do sweat like a pig, and the husband and mother dear will agree, sadly. But, I look down, and this "sweat" was whitish in colour and I looked a bit dumb wondering what happened. Goofy me!

So, yes,,, The BIG P.

I am trying not to go into gory details here, but I was so nervous, I kept having loads and loads of hot water. Don't ask me why. I have no idea. I was as nervous as a teenager before his first kiss!

But, the water did its job, and Voila! So did I!

YES YES YES!!!

POO POO IN THE POTTY, POO POO IN THE POTTY!!!

When the doctor came in, I was so excited, I think I may have peed in my pants. I don't recall her asking me if I had gone, but I do remember telling her "I did potty in the potty!"

Again, I only remember her smiling and saying good! But, I am sure she must have been thinking, "Good job!", like she would to a five-year-old, because obviously, I was acting like one. I was so thrilled!!!

It was now time to go home!