I think I have been reluctant to write here because my brain refuses to form sentences about anything else other than my baby and her billion antics and expressions and types of poo. And I know if I start writing about my child, it will turn into a never-ending odyssey. So which is why I've decided to talk about myself in this new post. About being a mom. And motherhood. And how my baby changed my life... Oh okay fine this is technically a post about her only.
They say being a mom completely transforms your life. Yes, it turns you into this lovely maternal being full of softness and sweetness. It also brings out this a stark raving mad weirdo monster. One that you never knew existed within you.
If you're someone who don't have a child yet and love kids, chances are having a kid will change how you feel about them. You probably won't stare at every little baby that crosses your path and go awwwwww. You will end up giving it a dead stare while looking up to meet eyes with its mother. Like one jail inmate looks at another. Silently communicating support. "Hang in there, girl! Only 'n' number of hours till bedtime."
Now when I do gaze upon a lil un', I go "Awww...she's so...Oh My God, her shoes! I need those shoes for my baby. Where did she get those shoes. Shooooooes!" Yes, I have a baby-shoe addiction.
2. Scared? Me?
You have to be the brave one. You're not allowed to be scared anymore. There will be times when a tiny infant will stare right at you without blinking in the dark. And all you can see is their eyes shining. And it will scare the crap out of you. When my nieces or nephew were little and used to do that, I'd just hand them straight back to my sisters and be like "Okay that's it, I'm done, tata bye-bye" and get the heck out of there. But when the same happened with my own child, I just twisted my head as far as I could away from her face while holding and rocking her in my arms and singing the lullaby I made up called "Please don't kill me, please don't kill me, creepy baby."
And there are times when it isn't even the baby that is scaring you. I remember this one time I was at home and I had watched a scary movie. Okay, it was trailer of a scary movie. I don't voluntarily watch scary movies anymore. So this 2 minute trailer had freaked me out pretty bad. So after tossing and turning in bed for a while, I decided, "Okay, that's its, I'm going to go sleep next to my mom and dad in the other room." I almost got off the bed before I remembered that there was this tiny baby lying next to me. Who I was supposed to look after and protect and be there for in case she gets afraid. I think that was one moment that had me going "Ohhh so this is what being an adult is like." I got back into bed, grabbed hold of her feet (she was too tiny to hug), squeezed my eyes shut and prayed to every God I know till I drifted off to sleep.
3. Let's talk about my baby!
So like I mentioned before, she is all I talk about. And its not like I don't try to not to. When we speak about other things, my mind is like "Ask about my baby. Stop talking so I can tell you more about my baby. Haha that's funny but not as funny as the time my baby did the most hilarious thing. " Even while chatting with other moms, I'm just waiting for them to send me a picture of their child so I can send the 10 pictures of my baby that I have already shortlisted. And you should see my Facebook timeline. Its like I'm her Social media manager, posting witty anecdotes about her life every other day.
4. Click Click Click
I admit I used to be a bit of a narcissist. I used to take a shit load of selfies. But then who doesn't? A new dress or a special occasion warranted atleast 10 selfies. When it comes to the baby, an occasion results in 16 billion pictures. A regular day ended with 16 billion pictures.
"Oh the baby smiled." click click click click. The baby burped click click click. The infamous poop face click click click click. My phone literally rejects any image that does not have her in it now. Right this minute, my phone's camera roll has 1,897 pictures in it. Of which I'm pretty sure atleast 1800 are pictures of her. The rest 97 are probably pictures by her. Of the wall and the ceiling and the bedsheet and the top of her head.
5. Oh Sweet Night!
I've always been a night owl who stays up late at night so staying up with the baby wouldn't pose too much of a problem. Or so I thought. First of all, I used to stay up to watch movies or read or paint or play games. Not to have a tiny human take turns between gnawing at me and screaming bloody murder all night long. Also the decision as to when I should go to sleep used to base solely on when I was starting to feel sleepy. But now the reins of control are with the tiny minion who sometimes likes fooling me by pretending to almost fall asleep to suddenly jolt up and give me a "Haha just kidding, I'm gonna poop again" look. But you know, it gets better. As they grow their sleep pattern gets better and soon they're sleeping through the night. Which means I should be getting a good night of sleep. But me being me, the moment she falls asleep, loud strains of "Haaaallelujah! Haaaaallelujah!" blasts in my head. Its literally a one woman party after that. I can do all the things that I used to do. I can read, paint, shower, watch things on TV that are not two-dimensional, paint my nails, talk to my friends who are awake on the other side of the world, stare at the wall in silence, write this blog like I am right now. I can be young and interesting again. Only problem is that the baby does not care that mommy has been up all night binge watching nonsense on Youtube and stuffing herself with all the hidden candies.(Ok, I do the other stuff I mentioned too.. sometimes.) She wakes up at a time which is probably a reasonable time for normal folk to wake up. But to me, anything before 11 am are the unholy hours. And the minute she's up, I have to crack open my eyes which then burns like its on fire before I douse my insides with the sweet relief called coffee. Sometimes, I beg, I plead, I even bribe her to stay in bed a little longer. But nothing works for too long. My day begins the minute her day begins.
2. Scared? Me?
You have to be the brave one. You're not allowed to be scared anymore. There will be times when a tiny infant will stare right at you without blinking in the dark. And all you can see is their eyes shining. And it will scare the crap out of you. When my nieces or nephew were little and used to do that, I'd just hand them straight back to my sisters and be like "Okay that's it, I'm done, tata bye-bye" and get the heck out of there. But when the same happened with my own child, I just twisted my head as far as I could away from her face while holding and rocking her in my arms and singing the lullaby I made up called "Please don't kill me, please don't kill me, creepy baby."And there are times when it isn't even the baby that is scaring you. I remember this one time I was at home and I had watched a scary movie. Okay, it was trailer of a scary movie. I don't voluntarily watch scary movies anymore. So this 2 minute trailer had freaked me out pretty bad. So after tossing and turning in bed for a while, I decided, "Okay, that's its, I'm going to go sleep next to my mom and dad in the other room." I almost got off the bed before I remembered that there was this tiny baby lying next to me. Who I was supposed to look after and protect and be there for in case she gets afraid. I think that was one moment that had me going "Ohhh so this is what being an adult is like." I got back into bed, grabbed hold of her feet (she was too tiny to hug), squeezed my eyes shut and prayed to every God I know till I drifted off to sleep.
3. Let's talk about my baby!
So like I mentioned before, she is all I talk about. And its not like I don't try to not to. When we speak about other things, my mind is like "Ask about my baby. Stop talking so I can tell you more about my baby. Haha that's funny but not as funny as the time my baby did the most hilarious thing. " Even while chatting with other moms, I'm just waiting for them to send me a picture of their child so I can send the 10 pictures of my baby that I have already shortlisted. And you should see my Facebook timeline. Its like I'm her Social media manager, posting witty anecdotes about her life every other day.
I admit I used to be a bit of a narcissist. I used to take a shit load of selfies. But then who doesn't? A new dress or a special occasion warranted atleast 10 selfies. When it comes to the baby, an occasion results in 16 billion pictures. A regular day ended with 16 billion pictures.
"Oh the baby smiled." click click click click. The baby burped click click click. The infamous poop face click click click click. My phone literally rejects any image that does not have her in it now. Right this minute, my phone's camera roll has 1,897 pictures in it. Of which I'm pretty sure atleast 1800 are pictures of her. The rest 97 are probably pictures by her. Of the wall and the ceiling and the bedsheet and the top of her head.
I've always been a night owl who stays up late at night so staying up with the baby wouldn't pose too much of a problem. Or so I thought. First of all, I used to stay up to watch movies or read or paint or play games. Not to have a tiny human take turns between gnawing at me and screaming bloody murder all night long. Also the decision as to when I should go to sleep used to base solely on when I was starting to feel sleepy. But now the reins of control are with the tiny minion who sometimes likes fooling me by pretending to almost fall asleep to suddenly jolt up and give me a "Haha just kidding, I'm gonna poop again" look. But you know, it gets better. As they grow their sleep pattern gets better and soon they're sleeping through the night. Which means I should be getting a good night of sleep. But me being me, the moment she falls asleep, loud strains of "Haaaallelujah! Haaaaallelujah!" blasts in my head. Its literally a one woman party after that. I can do all the things that I used to do. I can read, paint, shower, watch things on TV that are not two-dimensional, paint my nails, talk to my friends who are awake on the other side of the world, stare at the wall in silence, write this blog like I am right now. I can be young and interesting again. Only problem is that the baby does not care that mommy has been up all night binge watching nonsense on Youtube and stuffing herself with all the hidden candies.(Ok, I do the other stuff I mentioned too.. sometimes.) She wakes up at a time which is probably a reasonable time for normal folk to wake up. But to me, anything before 11 am are the unholy hours. And the minute she's up, I have to crack open my eyes which then burns like its on fire before I douse my insides with the sweet relief called coffee. Sometimes, I beg, I plead, I even bribe her to stay in bed a little longer. But nothing works for too long. My day begins the minute her day begins.
I do realize that I will be the worst mom ever once she starts school. Chances are I'll be the one saying 5 more minutes when she tries to wake me up to get ready for school.
6. Nom Nom Nom
I've always enjoyed food and if its something I especially like, then I like to take my time and cherish each bite. But with a toddler around, getting even mouthful in without being interrupted is a rarity. My girl almost always gets the call from nature, the minute I sit down with the plate. Gone are the days that I get to truly enjoy a meal especially at restaurants. Now I eat with both my eyes on her in case she wanders off and eats something off a stranger's plate. Some nights, I put her to bed early and make myself some comfort food- a bowl of noodles and icy lemon juice, and settle down in front of the screen to watch a movie or series. But I always find that I would have finished the noodles and the drink even before the opening credits are done rolling. Its become a force of habit now.
7. New inhabitant of the heart
Your heart will officially have a new owner. The minute the baby is born, you'll have to clear up all the debris that was lying around in your heart and either throw them out or smush them into a tiny little corner so that the baby can take up the biggest part of it. Its a feeling that just cannot be explained. Its love that cannot be put into words. For example, if another significant person sticks a knife in you, you will, of course, get mad. And might even stab them back. Or at the very least punch them, Or be very very mad at them for atleast a year. If your child sticks a knife in you, you will firstly get mad, yell at her, then lecture her, then feel horrible when you see her lower lip quivering, then try to make her laugh again and then give her a hug and then say sorry. Even though you are the one with the bloody knife stuck in you. This is such a common occurrence in my house. Okay, obviously she doesn't stab me with a knife, its mostly just a fork.
There are, of course, other more important changes. Like how you can never watch or read the news again without feeling mentally disturbed. Or scroll past a picture of a missing child without sharing. Or how you will eventually learn to pray. For your child and others too. Or how you will experience anger, sadness and happiness in measures you've never imagined before. Or how baby songs and nursery rhymes will make you want to throw up at some point. Or how you will learn the names and list of nutrients in vegetables you hadn't even heard of before. Or how trying to dry a toddler's hair is (according to her) equivalent to trying to chop off her head. Or how picking up food that your toddler spit out and tossing it into your own mouth so you don't waste it, will not seem gross at all after some point. Or how your room will always Always smell like urine for a very long time.
So many many many many more new experiences and changes. And it never ends. Every day, I learn something new about her or about me. And everyday is an adventure.
Happy Mother's Day to all such adventurers! May the journey be filled with whacky lovely and special memories.
I've always enjoyed food and if its something I especially like, then I like to take my time and cherish each bite. But with a toddler around, getting even mouthful in without being interrupted is a rarity. My girl almost always gets the call from nature, the minute I sit down with the plate. Gone are the days that I get to truly enjoy a meal especially at restaurants. Now I eat with both my eyes on her in case she wanders off and eats something off a stranger's plate. Some nights, I put her to bed early and make myself some comfort food- a bowl of noodles and icy lemon juice, and settle down in front of the screen to watch a movie or series. But I always find that I would have finished the noodles and the drink even before the opening credits are done rolling. Its become a force of habit now.
Your heart will officially have a new owner. The minute the baby is born, you'll have to clear up all the debris that was lying around in your heart and either throw them out or smush them into a tiny little corner so that the baby can take up the biggest part of it. Its a feeling that just cannot be explained. Its love that cannot be put into words. For example, if another significant person sticks a knife in you, you will, of course, get mad. And might even stab them back. Or at the very least punch them, Or be very very mad at them for atleast a year. If your child sticks a knife in you, you will firstly get mad, yell at her, then lecture her, then feel horrible when you see her lower lip quivering, then try to make her laugh again and then give her a hug and then say sorry. Even though you are the one with the bloody knife stuck in you. This is such a common occurrence in my house. Okay, obviously she doesn't stab me with a knife, its mostly just a fork.
There are, of course, other more important changes. Like how you can never watch or read the news again without feeling mentally disturbed. Or scroll past a picture of a missing child without sharing. Or how you will eventually learn to pray. For your child and others too. Or how you will experience anger, sadness and happiness in measures you've never imagined before. Or how baby songs and nursery rhymes will make you want to throw up at some point. Or how you will learn the names and list of nutrients in vegetables you hadn't even heard of before. Or how trying to dry a toddler's hair is (according to her) equivalent to trying to chop off her head. Or how picking up food that your toddler spit out and tossing it into your own mouth so you don't waste it, will not seem gross at all after some point. Or how your room will always Always smell like urine for a very long time.
So many many many many more new experiences and changes. And it never ends. Every day, I learn something new about her or about me. And everyday is an adventure.
Happy Mother's Day to all such adventurers! May the journey be filled with whacky lovely and special memories.
5 comments:
I laughed out loud. But then you know how I love your writing.
Thank you, sammy :)
That was damn funny (and I feel empathy as well :p).
Happy Mothers Day.
I'm the father of a 3 year old. Maybe someday I should write about life-altering experiences of Fathers. Maybe I've already written something, I don't really remember now.
Loved reading this. You've not lost your flair for humour.
Do drop by mine. Would love your feedback :)
Cheers,
CRD
CRD, oh my god. I know you. As in you were one of my old readers. And you have a 3 year old now? Wow. In my head all my old readers stopped reading my blog because I now post about old people things and they're all still young.
Thanks for dropping by. Will revisit your blog as well. You created Bloggeratti or something like that right?
Arre you remember...Awesome!!😁😁
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