Types of Moms

Being a mom is no easy feat. I've always had people tell me "Oh, you're going to be an awesome mom someday."

Did I turn out awesome? Hmm, well maybe not exactly. I mean yes, there are days where I end the day with a feeling of triumph, fist pumping the air and going "Yeah, I killed it today!" And there are days when I want to crawl into a cupboard and just stay there and cry all day long while stuffing my face with chocolate biscuits. Motherhood is hardly a consistent affair. 

So I've listed a few types of mom avatars I have taken on a day-to-day basis.

Scene: It's almost bath time. Your little tyke can sense the danger and is bracing herself. Disaster is just around the corner. She is hovering around everywhere but anywhere within ten ten-foot radius of the bathroom. A gigantic tantrum seems like it's on the agenda to avoid the horrendous event.

1. Angry/ impatient/distraught mom

We've all had these days. When you get pushed and pushed and pushed so hard that you just lose it and want to punch a wall. I usually resort to going to the other room and punching the living daylights out of a pillow or my husband. This is also the type of mom I am on the days that I'm going through the wonderful phenomenon called PMS.

"Get into the bathroom. Get in here. GET IN! You get in here RIGHT now! Thats IT! I've had it. You do Not want make me angry. I'm going to count till 5 and if you're not in here by then... then THAT IS IT! "("That's it" usually means I just continue yelling and shouting some more)

The countdown technique doesn't really work with my daughter because she just recently discovered numbers so every time I do that she gets all excited and counts along with me. This angry stage can also be short-lived if she ends up doing something ridiculously adorable and I have to struggle to keep a straight face. But more often, it ends up in tears (mostly mine) and a heavy dose of guilt.

2. Sad/desperate/melodrama mom

This is another common one for me especially during the onset of PMS. PMS while parenting is just one of Nature's biggest controversies.

"Pleaaaase, baby pleeeease *sob* please for the love of God! Please stop torturing me and come to bath! Pleeeaseeeee! Why are you doing this me! What did I do to deserve this! Why God whyyyyy!!"

Chances are that the toddler involved will usually be lying with her feet in the air singing loudly completely oblivious to your pleading and melodrama. This stage also leads to offering bribes. But again that does not work because toddlers do not understand bribes, I've realized. They just lie on the floor and cry until you bribe them to stop crying. 

3. Goofy/funny mom

Okay, this is me on my good days. I bring out the tickle monster and chase her into the bathroom. Or let her bring literally every single kitchen utensil or household item into the bathroom with her (because bath toys are too mainstream). You could make up a silly bath song. And pretend the bucket is a bathtub.  And water fights obviously. This one time I got into the shower with her fully clothed. And we did a rain dance. She thought it was hilarious.

Disclaimer :goofy mom can and may turn into impatient mom if said child is not receptive of any of the goofiness.

4. Tricky/sneaky mom

This trick works only once in a while and is a bit mean. Just go stand in the bathroom and look at the floor or ceiling and stare in amazement. Make sure your child can see you. Then exclaim something like "OH MY GOD, did you see that elephant!" Or fairy or dinosaur. Or the entire cast of Friends. Or whatever your kid fancies. My kid usually comes running if I tell her there is an itsy-bitsy spider in the corner and there usually is so I'm technically not being a liar.

Sometimes you don't even need to lie. Just leave the bathroom door open with the lights on and leave the room. Chances are their mischievous minds will start churning and they ll be compelled to go and explore the bathroom on their own. You then sneak up behind them and trap them before they figure out what is happening. Kind of like catching flies, I just realized now.

 Also make sure you go to them without much delay. I once took a little too long and discovered my little monkey with one foot inside the toilet.

5. Don't give an f mom/cool mom/unhygienic mom
Smell hair. Seems okay. Whatever. Bathtime is overrated anyway. 

This is me on more days than I'd like to admit. 




Whichever kind of mom you are, just know that you are not alone. "We are all a hot mess, some just hide it better than the others."
Happy mom-ing!

Motherhood and its Life-Altering Properties

                        I just realized that I had zero posts in 2016. Zero! I had such an eventful year and Nothing I wrote. Oh well. I blame it on mommy-hood. And the lack of a laptop. My laptop died an uneventful death the day we brought my newborn home from the hospital and she peed on top of it. And I discovered it almost a month later. Hey, there you go, that's motherhood in a nutshell.

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 a stark raving mad weirdo monster. One that you never knew existed within you.

1. Aww babies!

If you're someone who doesn't have a child yet and love kids, chances are that 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. It's 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 be based 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. It's 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 it's 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. It's 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. It's a feeling that just cannot be explained. It's 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, it's 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.