I wonder though how many times I am going to be saying that over and over again. Running away, then returning. Highly irresponsible behaviour indeed, but then well, if you were to ask me, I should reply very honestly. Guilty as charged. There is also this sense of revelling in such behaviour of late. Perhaps I am now growing up Whatever and however, I am back, most of me ie. With a lull in the work sphere, a breather is here, for a week or two, when I shall indulge in soaking in the blogosphere again. Thank you , dear friends for all your wishes, and for dropping in even when there was no new word here So what now, I asked myself. And fell back on some homework given a long time ago, by IHM…who had once upon a long time ago asked me to share my thoughts on being a mother.
So here goes:
Being a mother is discovering limitless patience, something you trashed, when you were a child.
Being a mother is being impatient with those who cannot smile, at a child.
Being amother is being happy and proud, sad and angry, all at once, when your little one comes home, having ridden his bicycle on his own, the first time, had a crash too, messed himself up, cut his brow, dripping blood, and hooting all the way to the clinic where they don’t let you hold his hand while they stitch him up, and he knowing that, ensures his six year self will not make a sound…
Being a mother is not sleeping for nights on end, being bleary eyed, red rimmed around the eyes, and yet fresh as a daisy, energetic enough to stroll to the park when your offspring finally breaks his fever and wants “out”!
Being a mother is knowing you will worry, always; but will never share that worry, and keep it a guarded secret, which you later discover is quite an open secret.
Being a mother is saying how much you love your kids by getting angry with them, and then, what the heck, telling them anyway!
It is a proud moment being amother, theirs, when they take you around, young stripping lads, pillion riding on their new bikes, and better yet, proud sons, riding pillion behind their mother! Thank you guys, I know I’ll never live that one down!
Being amother, is something you will never grow out of, once you become one! No matter even if your kids are 40+… I know. Because of my mother !
Being amother, in the back of the beyond where convention and custom rule is rather fun, when one can shock a complacent and staid neighbourhood with one’s favourite attire of jeans… quite unthinkable for, well… A Mother! Lol!
But, sometimes, like IHM has shared, I don’t like being a mother…
…When I realize the world is so full of perverts and paedophiles…
…When I know the mother is worshipped ostentatiously , trampled under insidiously, and shoved into that pigeon hole she must never grow out of…
…When people assume that as a mother one must conform and then be idolized- and rarely, if ever, inspire…
Being a mother is even greater fun, when one can preen at astonished remarks-Oh? That is your mother? Rather than feeling weird, I revel in that!
Being amother – you can do anything! That is the faith your children repose in you- and that is what endlessly provokes and inspires. And even when they know otherwise, they would rather believe – moms can make it better!
I love being a mother, more so, today, when I had this conversation with my little one- the gangly six foot soon to be engineer !
He is the President of his Civil Engg Branch Association at college (ahem! Ahem! That is a darned proud mom sharing a tidbit, quite deliberately, one might add quite unnecessarily too !) He had streaked his hair (red), inspired others to follow suit, and took his best friend this evening to get his done, blonde… Brought him home, soliticiously offered him a cap (black) to escape detection at home (seeing as his mom might not be as accommodating), with a warning, that they could both return home sooner than I expected. Of course, being a mom I know, and they do too… but warnings must not be ignored either!
When he returned, alone, I remarked that he certainly was lucky to have me as his mother. He was not amused, but regarded me quizzically. I knew the look, and knew something was cooking. I continued to write, and ramble, this very piece, I must add
“Amma, you know, my friends say that I’d look great with my ears pierced. Ear. Only one.”
(I knew he had already bought a pair of earrings, and mulled over ways to get it done )
“Sure” I replied, not even batting an eyelid, and continued writing.
Silence. I looked up. He looked exasperated.
“Amma, why can’t you say NO?”
“NO, if you want me to… “ grinning broadly now. Me, that is.
He joins. “Can’t you really refuse? It’s no fun doing it when you don’t oppose”
Talk of contradictions.
And then I remind him of a mutually favourite Calvin and Hobbes comic strip (we both discovered them this vacation, and are absolute fans ) when Calvin’s mom allows him to smoke, which he does, finds out the real way whether to go on or not, and comes out with the Classic Note on parenting : (Scroll down and read it…:D!) Iloved it! And yes, I love being a mom. Just thought I’d clarify anyway.
Need I add more? I think not. I do not want to give Indygurl a run for her money And yes…. Happy Birthday Indygurl… and Happy Friendship Day too… Solilo beat me to it, but what the heck… I shall just add one more wish and blessing to her lot
1 August, 2009