The Opposites

Dear Piya,

This world exists in opposites.
There is black to white.
There is day to night.
There is zero to one.
And then there is child to mum.

Let’s talk a bit about that last contrast.

I wish for you to learn good things. Through these I believe you will incorporate good behaviour. And for this, I have been communicating, the benefits of being good, to you since you were in the babble-phase-of-life.

For every good deed done by you (picking up your toys, finishing your meal, brushing your teeth instead of your lips, accepting the pair of clothes I have chosen for you to wear, etc.) I always make it a point to say aloud “What a good girl you are!”

In line with the opposites of the world, then, for every bad deed I wish you wouldn’t do (throw things around, spill the food everywhere space exists, refuse to eat, refuse to take a bath, refuse to go to sleep, refuse to wake up, etc.) I try to evoke good behaviour through “Are you not a good girl? Do you want to be a bad girl?”

You must be wondering how silly all this sounds. Well, wait no more for it to get sillier. I actuate your good behaviour with your liking for the animal kingdom.
“The peacock did not spread its feathers today. Do you know why? Because you haven’t brushed your teeth yet.”
“Can you hear the dog barking? It is angry with you for not eating your meal.”
“See? Even the pigeons are flying away to sleep now.”

Now the beauty of childhood lies in two essential elements-
1. A young mind, being a blank slate, is very trusting. This works a lot in the favour of parents finding the journey a bit tumultuous with unstoppable little merry-go-rounds like you
2. A young mind, being a brilliant learner, learns of all their parents tricks in no time, leaving the poor parents with little respite from their unstoppable merry-go-rounds

Simply put, you were very receptive of my ‘Need to be good’ strategy - a reward for good deed and then some scolding for the bad deeds. I was conditioning you well, I believed, and slept peacefully for many a night.
That was till you figured out that being good is nothing but lame. Everything you really ever wanted always happened to fall in the ‘bad’ category.

And so, thereafter, to every “Aren’t you a good girl?” query of mine, you became quick with a smiling acceptance of “Nope! I am a bad girl”.
I guess you thought ‘Eh! What does bad bring in anyway? I might as well embrace the tag and enjoy the forbidden treats!’

You now relish ice-creams at night, as I stare my ray of ‘Bad girl!’ at you from across the room. Since you have already flaunted being a bad girl, you simply giggle from behind the ice-cream-moustache around your mouth.
For every time that I claim that the dog is mad at you for not going to sleep, you tell me to go put the dog to sleep instead.
And then, there is the never-ending drama-wail of yours which you seldom restrain from your lips; it’s effective & immediate solution is that I give up trying to convince you to behave, and simply shout out “Do what you want! Sleep. Don’t sleep. Eat. Don’t eat. Bathe or don’t! Why do I care!”

And this is how you bring out the third interesting essential element of childhood -
3. A young mind, being a kind heart it is, will always beat with sweet sounds of ‘Mumma’ on its lips

I guess you realise that you enjoy being bad for only as long as it bothers me.
And so, the minute I give up on you is the time you decide that being bad isn’t worth it after all.

This should be the answer to the question mark that popped in your head when I put child & mum in the ‘opposites’ of the world, right?


Love,
Maa.

Aapey Aapey

Dear Piya,

Taking care of a baby is quite a task for a mother.
I could write this whole letter solely upon how tedious it becomes for me to live through the cycle of ‘Feed, Clean, Repeat’ again and again, through years together; waiting for you to become self-sufficient one day.

Ironically, I am told that after the child does become independent, this phase is what a mother misses the most. I guess there is deeper emotion somewhere in being needed by your child.

But that seems to be a feeling reserved for exploration only in retrospect.
Because while this cycle goes on & on, a mother keeps putting in efforts to make the child not call ‘Mumma’ every second second.

Two major tasks I wished for you to master were - potty-training & self-feeding.

While you helped me immensely by mastering the former really early, your practical application of the latter came with an unforeseen round of troubles.

I think I should introduce the phrase ‘Aapey Aapey’ at this point - it stands for a screaming ‘I will do it myself!’

Oh, if I had a penny for every time you shouted ‘Aapey Aapey’!
You are a quick learner, baby.
You realised pretty soon that eating on your own is more in your favour than mine (I would be relived of the task of sitting patiently for an hour as you weigh whether you want to eat or not).

Yes, so you were the bigger beneficiary here and this is how. As your mother, I am obliged to make food for you that is more healthy than tasty. I was able to keep your sticky little hands off a lot of chocolates, chips & ice creams this way, for the first two years.
I did instil the concept of ‘Do it yourself’ alongside, in order to make you do your own chores like eating, wiping, picking up your toys etc. but I did not see this backfiring in any way - here came the terrible twos.
Herein, you knew you were better off without Mumma’s pestering to eat.
So you mastered the phrase ‘Aapey Aapey’.

“Eat your food, Piya! It’s getting cold.”
“Aapey, Aapey, Mumma”, you would say, only to grab the roti, make it barely touch the sabzi, and call it your meal.

“This is soup, Piya! What will you do with a fork in it?”
“Aapey, Aapey, Mumma!” And there went the soup, your clothes and the floor on their way to getting spoilt.

“Time to brush your teeth, Piya!”
“Aapey, Aapey!!!” You would scream if I even touched your toothbrush. I would stare as you chew through the toothpaste for 5 long minutes, before trying to make you brush properly, and that is where the ‘Aapey, Aapey’ scream would ring aloud again.

Oh, yes, this phrase has now seeped into every aspect of our lives and is not just limited to you eating a meal anymore.

You want to select your clothes ‘Aapey, Aapey’, which seldom match to make a pair.
You want to bathe on your own, which makes the bathroom a pond in no time
You want to carry your toys all by yourself too, which only means that the scatter-farm-exhibit is open for anybody & everybody to enjoy across the house.

Oh, for the good old days when I did things for you by myself! Yes, my back did hurt, and yes, I did wish for some of the work to be delegated to you.
But if only I had known the stubbornness of this ‘Aapey, Aapey’...

Wait, you are making way to my cosmetic-box again.
Wait!
That is not for ‘Aapey, Aapey!’

Wait.....!



Aapey, Aapey,
Maa.

Needles in a haystack.

Dear Piya,

I am writing to the two-year-old (a few months plus) chirpy toddler that you are today.

I have written to you about a lot of events that we have shared since you were born. Through that, I prided myself into believing that I had captured the timeline of your growth.
But I recently realised that seldom has time been captured.

It just goes on to prove how depreciating an asset a human brain is - there is only so much it can remember over a period of time.

I used to believe that if something is genuinely important, then no matter what happens, it remains etched in one's memory.

Putting the same words in a different format again, allow me to say this - You are the most important person in my life; yet I seem to have forgotten some beautiful things that you exhibited when you a tad more little.

My phone brimmed yesterday with yet another blink of 'Memory is full'.
I needed to clear my phone's memory to make space for future memories to be captured (hehe...that sounds cool!).
As would be expected, I browsed the photos section of the phone, as that is the where a major chunk of phone-storage-data is consumed. I swiped through the pictures till I reached the oldest ones.
Almost all of them were your captures :)

As I started selecting multiple pictures & videos to delete, I realised that the baby in them looked quite different from the baby I have with me today.
No, you did not get swapped in those two years, so relax.

The baby in the pictures doesn't leave my lap.
The baby with me today hurts my back by riding me like a horse.

The baby in the videos makes the cutest lip-twirls, drooling with rosy-pink.
The baby with me today doesn't stop chattering , questioning every object's existence around her. (What's this? What's that? What does this do? Where did it come from? Can I eat it? No? Let me still try...)

The baby in my phone is the girl I thought I would remember every yawn of.
The baby with me today remembers to correct me every time I yawn out loud, without covering my mouth.

I thought I was collecting & captivating everything in my memory. I thought I was doing the impossible task of capturing time.

I am so glad to realise that I haven't been able to remember everything; that I will chance upon something from the thousands of your captures, that will make me go into a trip-to-the-amazing-past kind of memory lane; that no matter how much I try to write, I will always be humbled by the miracle that is a infinite shades of a child; that no matter how big our haystack, I will always end up finding memory-like-needles of a life well-lived.

Let me capture a picture of you now, shall I?


Love,
Maa.

Snake-Woman

Dear Piya,

This world has many amazing creatures.

There are animals, who little toddlers like you love to observe.

There are birds, who babies like you love to listen to.

There are fish who little ones like you enjoy watching.

There are human beings, who are the source of little ones like you.

And then there are the super-humans, who are mostly a figment of imagination of kids like you who grew up to realise how boring life is without a dash of creativity.

I thought I belonged to the category of human beings all my life.

That is till the day I had you.

The sheer pain of having pushed out another human being from me made me want to be declared as a super-human.

Your father did not approve of this, obviously, as that would make the parental balance weigh down heavily in my favour.

But then as I developed a distinct super-power as you grew up, my stature as a super-human started to become undeniable.

Here is the super-power I have mastered with time - Slithering!

Yes!

I have become glib at slithering out of our bed after putting you down to sleep.

It took me some time, but I realised this pretty soon that you sense my absence through some magical body-warmth-detector in you. That is the only way I can justify you waking up with a cry the second I get out of bed.

I did not want your sleep to be disturbed like this. You are little. Little people like you should sleep so that big people like me can do things around them.

As expected, you did not grasp any of this logic.

And so, as time went by, I tried newer & newer techniques to avoid waking you up with myself, that is till I became the super-human - Snake Woman!

It’s the only way to not disturb your sleep, till date.

All I have to do is wait till you are deep in sleep, move away one tenth of an inch per second, reach the edge of the bed and then slither down without making any noise.

It’s difficult than it sounds.

You have no idea of the number of times I have fallen down the bed failing to slither away effortlessly.

Apart from getting my bottom hurt, I have then had to deal with the grief of you waking up.

Anyway, what I am saying is that your mother has superpowers, girl!

If you wake up less often and annoy me to a minimum by doing so, I will teach you my secret some day.

So, be good okay?

Sleep tight.

Good night.

Love,

Maa

Lyrics of love

Dear Piya,

You may think that I am a romantic, based on the love-filled letters I have written to you.

You wouldn’t be wrong to think so.

I guess that when it comes to her child, every mother is a romantic at heart.

Everything seems prettier in the background of a laughing child.

Anything seems possible with the faith of a tiny finger wrapped around one’s palm.

All looks better & all feels right, with a child’s hug for a necklace.

It wouldn’t be wrong to wonder if lyricists think of little, adorable, munchkins, when they write beautiful songs of love.

I, for one, can serenade any love song to you. You are my Cuppy Cake, to the core, in that manner.

But that stands true because of the things you do, the way you do them & the manner in which you stand there, cluelessly adorable after having done them.

Lets speak of what happened a few days back - 

You wanted to do an odd activity.

I said, ‘No’.

You said, ‘Pleaseee...’ with eyes the size of  chunky almonds.

I took a deep breath, and repeated, ‘No!’.

You said, ‘Just for 1 minute...’

‘No, Piya...’

‘Acha...only 2 minutes...?’

I pursed my lips a little before erupting into a carefree laugh.

I did not know where ro even begin with my response!

How do I explain logic behind numbers to a toddler unaware of the concept of number?

All I could do was hug you & kiss your cheek ten times.

I know innicence comes to you naturally.

And you have to know thag my love for this innocence inside of you comes just as naturally to.

Do you mot believe me?

Shall I sing a romantic song to prove it?

Love,

Maa

The snoozing sweet spot

Dear Piya,
From as long as I can remember, my sleep cycle has gone for a toss ever since I welcomed you in my heart.
When inside me, you found immense pleasure in kicking every corner of my bulge ping tummy from within, all night long. And if that wasn’t enough, my bladder served as a squeeze-ball for your entertainment every few hours.
After birth, you woke up every 1-2 hours demanding satisfaction for your little appetite, as if an all-night-buffet was tagged on my head.
And then it took a while for you to accept that human beings sleep at a stretch at night, after I stopped breast feeding you; which is to say that your thirst during night was twice as much as during daytime.

But all of this is not the centre-point of this letter.
This letter is about the time you were completely trained with pee-pee & potty control.

Spoiler alert - That is yet to happen.
Centre-point alert - I have no issues with that.

All the while that you were on breastfeed & then again thereafter, the only thing you did not trouble the night with was your pee-pee & potty.
I did act stupidly some time into your birth by avoiding diapers, but I have not had better days ever since I started making you wear them!
Be it use-&-throw or be it reusable ones, diapers are a boon to any mother, and of course to babies too!
They make a baby sleep like an angel through the night.
This in turn means that the mother’s dark circles get saved from getting a deeper hue.

Thankfully, you got trained to do potty on the pot only, since you were 14 months old.
But pee-pee training has taken quite a long time for you.
Now that you are over two years old, I am told that you should be made to sleep without a diaper.

Here is where I should tell you something.
You took a while to adjust with sleeping through the night after we stopped night feed. It is only since some weeks that I have realised what it feels like to have 6-7 hours of uninterrupted sleep; something I had forgotten for 3 years, now!

I really don’t care what ought to be or should be done with your diaper.
There is no one-size-fits-all, believe me.
Some babies get trained by the age of two, while some kids wet the bed after 5 years of age too.

Amidst all of the motherly concern over a silky diaper, I also have to address the sleepless girl inside me, who has been robbed of dreams for years.
I owe it to her to enjoy this snoozing sweet spot, as a little girl sleeps heavenly besides her.

I will let her have this time, before I rob her off a sleep-cycle again, with your night-pee-training.

Till then, sweet dreams, my love.


Love,
Maa.

Jump, Jump, Jump

Dear Piya,

Letting go off your hand, from my metaphorical, as well as literal, parental grip, has been easier said than done.

No, this has nothing to do with my unmanageable attachment to you (which exists, alright);
This is because I am afraid you will hurt yourself if I let go.

You keep jumping up and down everywhere, like a monkey! (Maybe that's where the idea of evolution began from - somebody watched a toddler, that's it!)

Having been given the front row seat to witness how a baby-like-seed germinates into a child-like-plant, I have learnt some things about human anatomy.

One such important learning is the discovery of an invisible spring - This is most likely located in the backbone of a toddler, and becomes vestigial as they grow up.

It is because of this spring that you keep jumping on any surface your feet land upon!
Be it a bed, be it our back - you started hopping on & off surfaces like they were trampolines.
This has cost us our bed's even surface, our couch's cushion, our lawn's green grass and our back's medical insurance.

It all started when we took you to a play area that had - fall-proof mattresses, dive-in-ball-pool & even small trampolines.
You realised that you can let your knees bend and throw your body in any direction by springing up and beyond a surface.
Just like that, the world became your acrobatic arena.

But not every place is fall-proof, which is why you have hurt yourself multiple times through haphazard jumps.
But has that stopped you from leaping off the next place?
Goodness, no!

And that's exactly why I like holding onto your hand; to be there to save your fall.

I don't know if that is right, though. I mean, one should learn from their own falls, right?

What I couldn't, you did.

As I refused to let you go, you pulled me along with you, inside a trampoline one day.
I hesitated at first.

But as the stretch of elastic under my feet vibrated, it activated the vestigial spring in my backbone.

We jumped up and down, howling like the monkeys we have evolved from!

Thank you, for sharing your streak of resilience & adventure with me.
And don't be surprised if you find me jumping some where, every now & then.


Love,
Maa.