Being a Parent

Of labour pangs and pain-filled haze;

Of sleepless nights and endless days;

Being more of a zombie, less of a mother;

Of just plodding on: one foot in front of the other.

Of an era of feeding, and changing, and screams;

A time when a nap is the stuff of dreams;

Of welters of soiled, stinky nappy and bib;

Of soft, fluffy pillows to line the crib.

Of trusting smiles and melting eyes;

Of a rush of love that all reason defies.

A kaleidoscope of emotions that shifts every instant;

The dawn of a new life: Being a Parent of an Infant!

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Of potty training and three baths a day;

Of insanity just a nanosecond away;

Of playschool vans, of picture books of flowers;

Of colours and shapes, of blocks and towers;

Of animals and birds, of evenings in the park;

Of balloons and toys, young minds to spark;

Of candy and ice-cream, of the alphabet and numbers;

Of aching bones and much-needed slumbers;

Of catching butterflies, of making mud pies;

Rediscovering the world through a fresh pair of eyes.

Of feeling at times that you’re just a muddler;

The morn of a fresh life: Being a Parent of a Toddler!

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Of homework and projects, of school drops and pick-ups;

Of the dawn of defiance, of twice-daily kick-ups;

Of cycling and football, of skating in the park;

Of laying down rules, of curfews after dark;

Of playdates and sleepovers, of bullies in the playground;

Of worrying that no one pushes your kid around;

Of TV and Internet, of smartphone and iPad;

Of PSP and Wii, of slowly going mad.

Of learning together: of tilling the soil;

Of discovering potential: like striking oil!

Of constant confusion, not knowing what you mean;

You’re more or less seasoned now: Being a Parent  of a Tween!

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And now for the most dreaded time for a mom:

The Bluebeard’s Chamber of all Parentdom.

An era of pitfalls that seem like landmines;

Of struggling desperately to draw some lines.

Of the feeling of being in a constant fight

With yourself, of not getting anything right;

Agonizing over raising your divas, jocks, or nerds:

Gearing up to tell them of the bees and the birds.

And dreading that they might, somehow, already know:

Trying to keep them safe, and yet, letting them go.

Of the reign of madness, not knowing how to engage:

That’s just Being a Parent of a kid in Teenage!

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In spite of

One of my most telling moments as a mother happened when my child was about three and a half.

Self-willed, bright and utterly charming (the universal verdict, mind you; not just a besotted mother’s view), she took to playschool like a duck to water. With her quick grasp of anything that was told to her and our daily bathtime exercises in colours, alphabet, numbers, body parts, etc. and her picture books, the first year at playschool was a snap. Charming her teachers and making friends all over the place, she was sailing on cloud nine.

It was in her second year in Montessori school that she started displaying a marked aversion to being pinned down to written work (she still has to be ‘persuaded’ to written revision). In fact, she just wouldn’t do it. And she refused to understand the concept of ‘please’ or ‘have to’. I was at the end of my tether. I still loved her beyond reason, but there was now a large fly in the ointment of my idyll as the mother of my near-perfect child!

Now, good grades and top performances were something that had been taken for granted in the family–one of the non-negotiable absolutes in life. And here was this maverick child who simply refused to perform. Yes, she was young yet, but her blatant antipathy to any kind of regularity had me hyperventilating: what would she do in life? Times were tough, and getting tougher by the day: where would she end up if she did not do well in studies? Her life would be ruined. Everyone would ridicule my darling!

Today, looking back I realize, to my shame, that at this point I had actually started withdrawing from her — not in terms of taking care of her or of loving her absolutely, but in terms of showing her unconditional love — as if trying to make her believe that my love was conditional upon her living up to my expectations; as if I wished to manoeuver her into trying to ‘deserve’ my love! Not surprisingly, we ended up with a new problem: behaviour issues!

It was at this time, when I was trying to grapple with these unwelcome twists of motherhood, that I ran across an old college friend who was finally pregnant after seven years of unsuccessful treatments for infertility. She was euphoric — and highly emotional. Deciding to lunch together and catch up with each other we repaired to our old college-time haunt of Nathu’s in Bengali Market, and being a little in advance of the lunch hour, were fortunate enough to get a table in a secluded corner.

And we started talking! We’d lost sight of each other after college, but I knew she had been through some tough times. A brilliant student in school, her performance in studies had taken a nosedive in college — and so had the love and support of her parents. She had graduated with low marks and had managed to get a mediocre job, but had risen swiftly in the organization on the basis of her performance. Now she had quit her job and was looking forward to bringing up her child.

I was just reflecting wryly on how I too had had the same kind of sentiments when I was in her position, when her next words fell upon me like a thunderbolt:

“And you know, whatever I am able, or not able, to give this child, the ONE thing that I will definitely give it is UNCONDITIONAL LOVE and support. I will guide it to the best of my ability, but when it faces any kind of failure, I will love it all the more. I will never destroy its self-esteem by making it think that it has to deserve to be loved by its mother. I will love and support it, not because of what it is, but IN SPITE OF what it isn’t.”

I said a short inward prayer of thanks for this meeting, and echoed in my mind: “So will I … God willing … so will I”!

Born Again

I was born again when I gave you birth

To a life with new meaning; a new sense of worth…

So much has been said and written over the centuries about the joys of parenthood that there seems little left to say. However, it is equally true that each parent-child relationship is unique, as are the memories. I, for one, have had many, many moments of revelation in my thirteen years of parenting, and so has every parent I know.

And finally, after thirteen years of the joy, angst, euphoria, grief and the sheer madness of being a parent I am giving in to the urge to record all of it — memories, anecdotes and thoughts on Being a Parent — my own as well as others’.

Might also share links to articles and stories on parenting 🙂

All those who wish to share their own experiences are welcome to send in their anecdotes and thoughts to <beingaparent@outlook.com>