Confessions of a Not-so-perfect mom

It’s a full moon night and my Vampires are still out in the park slaying other kids. While they are away, the werewolf at home is busy collecting their art and craft work which has been piling up like my to-do-list.

Its everywhere and its spreading, its on the dining table, TV table, near the wash basin, under the sofa, kitchen counter, near the telephone, on the fridge. So before they return, I am going to throw it all away. Yes, yes throw it away in the trash, as in, toss in the garbage. Yes, the same modern art that they had spent over two minutes in making and sucking the blood out of the A4 size paper we bought for our printing needs.

Don't go by their innocent faces

But I have to find a better way than just throwing in the bin, because otherwise after the vampires cast some spell, the craft work magically reappears everywhere and then looks at me, straight in the eye seeking an explanation.

I don’t do this out of any sick habit or to avenge them. Rather I take advantage of their short memory and my visionary sight in an attempt to keep the house manageable and clean (as per my standards). They make 10 art and craft wonders everyday, and not exactly the way Mister Maker or the summer camp teaches them. So can you imagine the amount of collection I will have if I keep saving it?

I also throw away the wretched KinderJoy toys. Every trip to buy groceries means you have to sacrifice some amount of money to keep the tribe happy and sane. And to ensure that we might not forget buying these expensive treats, the store stacks them up right at the checkout counter. But we have to admit that the marketing tactics of this otherwise Rs5 stuff has been a topic of discussion among friends.

Eat their chocolates. I have a sweet tooth but only for chocolates (no sweets, no kinder joy, thanks). I ensure that kids don’t over indulge in chocolates and spoil their teeth. Once they put it away, I take just a bite, and then another, and then another. And before I know, its gone. But I can’t replace it with a new chocolate, because that would mean buying a new chocolate first and then eating some more to bring it back to amount they had left. And obviously I can’t eat more, because I am on a diet.

Delete their Selfies. Brushed teeth, take a selfie. New hairpin, take a selfie. Milk moustache, take a selfie. Sibling pooping, takes a selfie with him. Eating Maggie, take a selfie. I am dealing with some selfie addiction here. So what do I do, I delete them. No honestly, you tell me, how many can I keep, 10, 20, 50. We have a new one everyday.

Send Dad whatsap messages “When are you coming home?” and when he gets annoyed being asked at 2pm, I blame the kids. Life is so much simpler now (in some ways only) that I have more people to put the blame on. Disconnect unwanted calls, and blame the kids. House is dirty, blame the kids.

Do you think I should be feeling guilty about this, because I don’t? 

Jobs I am overqualified for, but can’t make a career out of

 Did you miss me all this time I was away? Ok, don’t answer that. Did you wonder what I have been upto neglecting my poor baby blog? I know you did, maybe a little.

I was not sleeping when I was away. No, I didn’t watch (too much) TV either. I wasn’t holidaying for long either, because you never actually do, with kids. I was not talking or texting on phone, all the time. I have even got rid of my facebook and tea addiction.

Crazy Kids!

I started job hunting. You know how tough that is when you have had “no job” (as people refer to, when you are a stay at home mom) for the last 4 years. I have been very busy.

I was trying to evaluate my skills to find myself a better career. I can’t go to my last corporate job, because they know I am a fraud at writing software and supporting (others shit). I know I have to raise the kids I have given birth to (no choice).  But now that the Oreo will be away to playschool and Brownie would not return till 4pm, I will have lots of time at hand.

I should rather say, there was a higher calling from somewhere. Somewhere, I know, but where I am still trying to find out. So I got down and started writing down the skills I have.

Let me take you straight to where I am right now, after serving 3 month notice period from my home job and sorting out some domestic chaos.

Here is a list of the jobs I think I can apply to-

1. Dog Walker/ Trainer– I have been seriously contemplating this job position because I have what it takes -
1. I walk my kids everyday.
2. I have the necessary skills to take them to park, on leash, without growling at strangers.
3. I can train them from scratch, Sit-Tommy-Sit to Go-Fetch.
4. I can scoop poop, anytime, anywhere, any amount, any kind.
2. Story Writer – Every morning from getting them out of the bed to putting them back to sleep, I am telling them a story.
1. I can write any genre, horror, fiction, non-fiction, humor, moral stories, epics, you name it.
2. Give me a title, and I can write a story around it with the neighborhood evil Munna and good kid (my offspring) in it.
3. I can write short and long stories, depending on the requirement. If they are getting late for school, I tell short story. And when I have to distract them while Dad has just returned from office and needs space, I can pull a complete novel. I can send you samples if you know of any opening.
3. Personal Shopper – I can help shopping and be your very own personal shopper.
1. Any age, any size, any sex. I have more than 30 years experience.
2. I will even try it on for you, and walk the ramp
3. Online, offline, credit card, no credit card, sale, no sale. I am very versatile and flexible.
4. Butler/ Cook – I don’t want to boast my own skills, but I don’t have a choice if I want to get a job.
1. I manage to cook on short notice.
2. Bai or Bye - I survive
3. I have learnt a lot from my guests as to how I should keep clean and maintain the house better.
4. Like a good butler, I can be invisible sometimes yet available all the time (I practice this with Oreo and Brownie regularly)
5. I can plan budget really well. I always manage to save enough for my hair and nail spa.
5. Counselor – Believe me, I can do this. Infact my friends tell me, I am really good at it.
1. Family Counseling – I have watched a lot of soap opera and I can counsel without reacting on a scene three times, unlike Ekta Kapoor’s shows. My family has never failed to give me a new learning experience every day.
2. Addiction therapy – I have been there, done that. The first step to clean up, is to accept the addiction, just like I did. Now I spend less than an hour on facebook and drink only 3 cups of tea. I wish to inspire others from my success story.
6.  Critique Writer– I know I have a skill.
1. Movie Critique - I can predict a movie’s future by just watching the trailer. Isn’t that something? The role description says, you have to critique without spilling the story. That might be a problem, but I know my passion will stand out.
2. Stylist/ Spa Critique – I have had some really bad experiences in the past and I want people to avoid them. I want to help others. (I will be chosen Miss India, if I continue saying that)
3. Resume/ Career Critique – I know what doesn’t work from my experience. So I can definitely guide you if you have something similar, so that you don’t repeat the mistake I did.
7. Private Detective – I am getting better at this by the day. Thanks to my kids and husband equally, for honing my skills. My training sessions starts in the morning with “Where are my socks?”  and ends at night when I hear a whisper “Don’t tell mom!”

What do you think?

Mom, I'm Fine!

It is so difficult to comprehend these mutable adult minds, most of the times, unlike mine. My reactions are almost predictable given a situation, like I like to look out from my school bus window, period. I cry when I am angry. I hit and push Brownie when she tries to take my toy away or eat my chocolate.

But my mom reacts differently to the same situations, making her so unpredictable. When I come back from school, she usually carries my bag for me and asks me what I did in school and if I finished my snack box or not. But yesterday, she hugged me tight, kissed me on the forehead and checked me from top to bottom. I would not change in the 3 hours I was away in school, now would I? But I loved it.

And instead of asking me what I did, she barged inside the bus and had a heated argument with the bus driver and the attendant. I could hear her say “Are you trying to punish my child for my act? Are you trying to teach me a lesson? Have you no mercy for a 4 year old?” She choked somewhere in the middle of the last sentence and came out of the bus. She held me in her arms tight and took me home while stroking my hair.

My dad also came right then, might be had a half day at office. He gave me a high-five and kept checking me out from a distance.

I got special attention the whole day later, Mom asked me what I wanted to eat and prepared me my favorite instant pasta without veggies. She kept telling me, “I am sorry sweetheart; you had to go through it”.

I was busy eating, but stopped briefly because I thought I heard someone sobbing. But, I continued gobbling in the fear of Brownie returning, my elder sister who comes later in the afternoon and has longer session in school.

I could hear mom talking to dad in a little weird tone, like the one I have when I cry a lot. “How traumatic it must have been, sitting alone in the bus, on unknown route. He must have waited for me looking around anxiously at the bus stop, but when no one came to pick him up he must have been heartbroken. When bus must have started, leaving behind his assigned stop, he would have wanted to call me out loudly. But I was not there”. Mom burst into tears.

“His pants were a little wet, because he could not have hold on for two long hours and didn’t have anywhere to go in a bus. But he looked ok otherwise.” Mom continued her explanation.

Dad interrupted, trying to stop mom from saying, “Its okay, don’t worry dear. Everything’s well that ends well”.

Mom came to check if I had finished eating and asked me I wanted a piece of cake. And brought me one without waiting for my reply and continued talking to dad.

“How could I do that? I have started taking things for granted at home and am busy with my own stuff. What if he had started crying, he would have been crying the whole 2 hours it took the bus to complete the route and drop him back. But I was only 2 minutes late to pick him up. I am usually always on time and if I am not, they are suppose to give a missed ring.”

Her emotions are something I am still learning to comprehend. Somewhere from being sorry and apologetic, she suddenly became angry. She was louder than, she usually is while scolding me. She was now saying, “Why can’t they give a call, and conveniently take the kid away. I was worried sick, when I called up school after 15-20 minutes of waiting in vain. They casually said he has been dropped. That pressed the panic button for me, I asked them to check again and they said they will get back to me within 15 minutes after confirming. That’s when I called you and asked you to go to school and check. They were the longest 15 minutes, my mind was processing all the negative possibilities there could have been. Oh God! Thank you for proving it all wrong.

Dad is usually silent, but this time around, he dared to interrupt mom to share his side of the story. He said, “When I reached the school, they were still trying to get in touch with the bus driver after you told them the bus route number. They talk about these camera installation and bus tracking systems, when they can’t even get their basics right. Its not acceptable, with so many nuisances we are hearing around.”

There was a time when both dad and mom were talking together. Its funny how each wants to tell his story first and they end up fighting like me and Brownie. Mom said, “When the school finally got in touch with the driver, they said  the driver took the kid with him and he is safe and finishing his snack box right now. He said he would drop the remaining kids and then on his way back to school he would drop the kid back to his apartment. Telling me in the most nonchalant way possible.”

“What a moment of relief that was, and put an end to those pessimistic thoughts we both we were going through but couldn’t share with each other.” Mom said and dad kept a hand on her shoulder.

I started feeling sleepy then and was throwing tantrums for her attention now. Mom was setting the table to sit down and eat.

They could not finish their conversation or lunch. As mom went to put me to bed, dad went to pick up Brownie at the bus stop. He didn’t want to be late.

One and a half grand and a hair cut later!!

Its been long overdue, so I decided to go to a hair salon. I forgot to take an appointment, as its always last minute and dear receptionist asked to wait for just 5 minutes, and you know how long 5 minutes can take sometimes. While I was waiting, and reading some nonsense Fashion magazine from last year and hearing the person next to me cribbing about her MIL, another lady come up at the reception desk. I hadn’t even finished scanning her from top to bottom and wondering, what the hell she needs to get done, she looks like she is just out from a Salon, she whisked right in without waiting. Making me feel like, Why should I have to wait so much? Am I not paying for the service? Or should I get that damn membership that the reception lady always advises me to get? Sulking in the corner.

Anyways, after few five minutes later, the receptionist asked, who do you want to get styled with, Stylist, Senior Stylist, Style Director, or a Creative Director. If you want to go with the Junior Stylist, he will be with you right away, but since you didn’t book prior with Senior Stylist, you might have to wait. Yeah right, I know how busy he is sipping coffee and counting money.

I felt like I guinea pig choosing a Junior Stylist. What does that term mean beside a little lesser charges, anyways. Ok I understand he is less experienced, but it makes me feel cheap choosing that service and also he might just be a newbie, with no experience what so ever. There is no going back with haircuts, no warranties, no guarantees, no return policy.

I still chose the lowest priced service available holding my wallet tight and counting my blessings. So a trendy looking metrosexual guy with hair highlights walked up to me, introduced himself and asked me what I wanted. While he checked the volume, checked the texture, checked the length and checked the scalp, I was shivered nervously whether I passed his standards or not. What if I am denied a haircut today?

The red horned one, on one shoulder said, “Get a Perm done. It can’t get past unnoticed with I-could-care-less-husband of mine”

While the winged and harped one on the other shoulder spoke some sense, “Don’t do what you did last time. Just say that can be tied later and let him decide the rest. Don’t wake up your sleeping brains now.”

“Can you please get up and come to the hair wash area. We need to shampoo.” B..but..I …d…on’t …need…” He looks in horror at my bohemian style, unmanaged, unkept hair and I stood up silently and walked towards the wash area. I sniffed silently in my tissue at the humiliation.

We came back to the hair cut area and a man was getting groomed next to me. The kind that always fascinate me and inspire me to groom better. While I get my hair done, he is resting with his green facepack and cotton balls covering his eyes. I wish I could see his face and judge him.

He asked me the same question, I get asked every time I am in a Salon, in an attempt to engage me in small talks and showing off how caring he is about his customers. I don’t need small talks, please concentrate on my hair and that’s how I will know you care.

But as he showed me how much length he is going to cut, there should be a written contract with picture to support the claims. He cut as he wished and then showed me if its okay, like I can go back. Few minutes of serious blow-drying business later, he showed it to me again with a back mirror. I felt happy with my hair cut, as I always do the first day with half a bottle of each factory product in my hair, and as much time spent on my hair as much as I do the whole week in total.

I get back home and ask Mr Husband, “So?” He looks up from his laptop, takes a quick glance and says,”Nice. Have you found that bill I was telling you about anywhere?”