Letting go

When N was born, I got so busy with getting things right that I forgot to enjoy his presence. A gently but persistently reminded me that it was more important to have a happy baby and a happy initiation into parenthood. Slowly, I got there. And before I knew it, N had become an extension of my self. It felt really, really good.

In the joy that his presence brought into my life, I again forgot to prepare myself for the next stage. Since I am right this minute in the middle of this next stage, I don't think I can do much justice trying to explain it all. The gist of it is that today I left him alone at the nursery for the first time ever, for one hour. He loved it, but that's not the point, is it?

There were many tears. Mostly mine. All mine actually.

I wish it were easier to let go.

Nature vs nurture

I am fighting for some sleep these days. I was told it gets better but to me it's looking worse. N is the most amazing, interactive, happy, demanding of attention baby during the day. Then comes the bedtime routine which he allows us to indulge in fairly happily. But after that, all hell breaks loose.

The boy gets up practically every hour. Will not go back to sleep unless pacified by gentle rocking and breastfeeding. A strange fear begins to build up inside of me as evening approaches. I dread the continuous breakage of sleep, the nagging, dull pain in my head and the overwhelming desire to cry.

So I have been looking around for solutions. There is not one book on baby sleep training that I have not read. There is not one method that I have not followed, although I must admit that I cannot bring myself to wholeheartedly employ the cry-it-out method. Every time I have tried it, I have ended up in tears myself.

Since solutions have left me no better off, I am now looking for solace. And this is where I found it. But more interestingly, the comments left me thinking - it looks like parents of boys generally have a tougher time than those of girls trying to settle, calm down and put their little ones to sleep. Is it a sex thing after all, that no amount of careful and considered nurturing can change?

I write this with a big disclaimer upfront - I am not trying to make any generalised statements, only expressing what I am seeing in my small world.

My mums' group comprises of 6 mums and their gorgeous babies. Three of us have boys and the other three mummies have little girls. All the three boys are frisky, more interested in dashing around from place to place, demanding constant attention and refusing to pacify themselves. All three learnt to crawl first and sitting later, practised only as a necessary means to change positions. The girls on the other hand learnt to sit first and some of them haven't learnt crawling yet - they are happy to sit and observe the world, play with whatever object they have in their hands and explore from far.

The mums with boys are stressed, sleepless and constantly found taking brisk walks by the river in their pajamas in an attempt to lull the brats into slumber.

The mums with girls are well dressed, hair and nails properly done, shopping happily with the little angels cheerfully looking on.

When we all meet once a week, the difference is stark. Could it be that we are after all at the mercy of nature, hopeless mothers-of-sons trying against all odds to achieve the unachievable - that is putting the monkeys to sleep without a fight and getting them to stay there peacefully through the night?

Eagerly awaiting

As any new-ish mum will tell you, time is a very precious commodity. And time for yourself is supremely precious because of the sheer economics of the thing - demand is very high and supply next to nothing. Consequently, I have made a decision. The tiny moments of nothingness that I am able to steal, and some of which I spend on this blog, I intend to spend them happily. The background to this perhaps warrants another post, but for the moment, this place is going to be a positive and uplifting one.

As the festive season begins (lights went on in the town centre last evening and N and I went to the carnival twice and even managed our first joyride together as mum and son!) this is what I am looking forward to:

1. The general slowing down of things
2. The smiles on peoples' faces. It's getting colder and the weather is anything but cheerful with the unending rain but I haven't seen the town centre busier with happy faces pottering about
3. Spending more time with my two boys - can never get enough of them
4. Baking some more - have done very little of it lately and think it's time to get re-acquainted with the oven
5. Putting paintings and photographs up on the walls
6. Meeting friends more leisurely, without hurrying
7. Completing the cashmere blanket for N
8. Planning for the new year - so many new things to do
9. Indulging some more in the joy that this year has brought - enjoying time alone with N and getting him settled in the nursery
10. Getting back to work. Yes, I am surprised myself but I am looking forward to working again

Happy winter everyone! :-)

Post-India blues

Every year I announce to nobody in general that the annual holiday for that year will not be in India. Trips to India are not holidays - they are like mud wrestling in family politics - hardly the recipe for a restful, relaxing break. I refuse to waste another annual vacation on power-cuts, potholes and incessant annoying comments from supposed well-wishers. And then again, despite A's many urges to the contrary, we end up going back, time after time.

This time it will be different. That's what I say every time. And every time, it is the same story. Only, this time, it was even worse. Because the poor little 8 month old who just couldn't take the enormous change in surroundings was at the receiving end of popular misunderstanding and censure.

Why does he cry so much? Why won't he come to us? Why is he so clingy? Why is he so thin? Why doesn't he get comfortable? Why won't he play with us? What's his problem with us? He is such an angrez! I got sick and tired of the general insensitivity towards a baby's needs. And believe it or not, most of it was coming from other mothers. N was, for them, a performing monkey, and if he didn't provide the entertainment that everyone expected of him then something just wasn't right with him.

And it got so bad that we decided to cut short the trip and return home. A good 10 days before the original plan. I am glad we took that call. Between a very unhappy baby and very pushy family, there was no holiday to have - only increasing amounts of agony. There is something very wrong when a child is treated with such little dignity. I for one wasn't going to let that happen to my baby.

Yet leaving India in such bad taste is so painful. It's been four days since we returned, N is back to being a happy bunny, but I still can't get over it. Not yet at least.

I promise next year I will not go to India for the annual vacation.

But I think next year my brother might be getting married - in India :-(

Is it October already?

For a good part of the year, I have told myself that I can procrastinate, that is till October. I can avoid making decisions till October. I can live in blissful denial till October. I can turn my back to everything that needs taking care of - till October.

October 2009, for the bulk of 2009, was the time to wake up and take charge.

I cannot believe it is October already.

It seems like it was just last week that I was worried I might miss the due date and have to have labour induced. Was it not just yesterday that we brought N back home from the hospital, so relieved to be out of there, so scared that now we had to look after this tiny being without help?

I wish there were a freeze button to life. This autumn is the most beautiful I have ever had, playing, swimming, singing, laughing, crying with N. This October brings the end to one magical chapter in life, and opens another where I prepare to fulfill responsibilities long neglected in the warmth of new motherhood. I will miss these last 7-8 months - they have been the most trying, most learning-packed and most magical of my life.

I shall always remember you ever so fondly, February-October 2009.

Hmmmmmmmmmmm.

Deep breath.

Right. Lets bring it on.

My two favorites

Left: NRR, the little monkey who takes centre-stage in life. Before I became a mother and during pregnancy, I had several theories and ideas about parenthood and raising a child. So far, everything has gone exactly not as per plan. And I have quickly realised that this is just the beginning of the challenge-ridden adventure called being a parent. Yet, every moment spent with him is sheer delight, and I can safely say that this is my most favoritest monkey and my most favoritest way of spending my time is monkeying around with him.

Right: The Snail and the Whale, this is an absolute beauty. If you haven't read it, you are seriously missing something. And you don't have to be a 6 month old to appreciate the lyrical loveliness of this poem. I read it to A in the kitchen and we read it over and over again, just standing by the hob, not moving, just listening to the magic unfold. It is a bit of a shame that N isn't taking to it as whole-heartedly as his parents, but I think it's only a matter of time before the snail with the itchy foot charms him into submission.

Mariana

I read it a while back but just didn't get down to writing about it. It made a pleasant, insightful read, another coming-of-age work that stood part from the rest by its sheer compassion and ordinariness. How interesting can a middle-of-the-road life be? Quite, in a quiet sort of way. It's about wrong choices, and growing with, through them, not into a super-human heroine, but into a good-enough person. It's about coming to terms with reality, about realising that imagination is a double-edged sword. Didn't quite like the way the ending was constructed though. Too abrupt, and suddenly lacking the sensitivity that marked the entire book.