Give Them Their Pace; It’s Not A Rat Race

Have you ever felt super jubilant?

I Have.

Because I liberated myself from the (infamous) rat race.

“If you’re happy and you know it…” I merrily sang, alongside my kiddo.

What I didn’t foresee was that even as I exit one race, I would be unwittingly pulled into another [more dangerous] “A-1” mommy rat race.

Am stumped each time a mommy (usually one that I barely know or one who I’m meeting for the first and presumably the last time) compares her kid/s with mine.

Scenario 1: Along came a SpRider, who sat down beside her, and frightened my child away

Location – Play-zone (Mommy’s breather)

Storyline –

Little one horsing around on the merry-go-round --> Monkeying around on the Ferris wheel --> Goes towards the slides -->

Mommy 1 (m1) walks up to me. Aah, just what I was waiting for. Finally, some adult interaction. So I smile the friendliest sweetest that I can and reciprocate the “Hiii”.

--> Daughter sees bigger child climbing --> Refuses to climb up herself --> Calls out to me --> I help her and get back

m1: So how old is your daughter?

Me:  2 years 3 months

m1: Ohhhh mine is 2 years 5 months 19 days [I forget the hours, minutes and seconds here]

Me: (Smile)

m1: Why is she so scared to climb the steps? You must not assist her. See, I leave my child alone.

m1: And why is she so scared of my daughter? She should learn to play with older kids.

[Ummm, did u mean bigger built rough kid who’s constantly shoving my little one and trying to poke her in the eye? Then that’s self-defense.]

Me: (Forced smile this time) Hmm…

Bumpity bump... Heart-rending wails... Pink-faced m1 runs to daughter...

Scenario 2: All play and no talk makes tot a dull boy

Location - Boarding Gate

Storyline –

Flight delayed --> Kiddo is, hence, Columbus --> Runs back to us intermittently --> Blabbers non-stop about her discoveries

m2: How old is she? [I think I will get her an age tag]

Me: *Repeat mode*

m2: She speaks sentences!! And is she speaking in multiple languages with her daddy and you?

Me: (Secretly feeling mommy glory; but trying a humble...) Yes

m2: My son is nearly 3 years old - he can only manage a few words! And we can’t understand much of what he’s saying and he just won’t say rhymes and… (litany goes on)

Me: (Sympathetic tone) Don’t worry, anyways it’s said that boys talk late. And wait till he’s jabbering (forced laugh)

Me: He communicates what he wants, right?

m2: That he does. But look at your daughter!

m2 hollers out to her truant boy --> boy scurries back --> lovingly blabbers

m2: (Not impressed) Look at that little girl! When will you start speaking properly like her? Learn something from her. (Disinterested look on child’s face)

m2: (Turns to hapless me) Maybe I should take him to a speech therapist? Or a psychologist or psychiatrist or...?

Me: (Muttering a thank you prayer as boarding is announced… and a pitying look towards the boy)

Scenario 3: And though she be but little, she’s fierce - Shakespeare

Location – Restaurant with play area

Storyline –

Kiddo delighted she’s not confined to high chair --> Playing around --> Whoops of delight --> Runs back --> Grabs a bite --> Back to cruising --> (Repeat)

Couple with toddler (adorable chubby cheeks I would have loved to pull) sitting at next table --> Daddy trying best to manage the little man --> Hawk-eyed mommy more interested in the goings-on at our corner

m3: (Leans towards me) Hi

Let me skip the age intro bit here

m3: Oh! She’s a month older to our son.

Me: (Experienced mommy now, hence, fake eagerness) Really!

m3: She is so short for her age! She must be a very fussy eater.

Me: (Umm as far as I can see my child is having whatever is offered to her and yours is throwing tantrums) Not really

m3: Then why is she so short?

Me: (You see good things come in small packages- I smugly thought) *Shrug*

m3: Don’t you give her ample food?

Me: (No, of course I don’t, am Pac-Mom... Chomp chomp chomp) *Blank look*

m3: I give my son 500 ml of milk every day, full-fat is better. Plus…

Me: (I didn’t even absorb the list) *More disinterested look* (discreetly requesting manager to change table)

Scenario 4: Bridge over troubled water

Location – Baby section at neighborhood Departmental store

Storyline –

Me picking up baby soap --> A really harrowed mommy looking for diapers

m4: [Mighty chirpy though] Hey, you also looking for diapers? Me too. Just ran out of stock and can’t find size in the brand I use. Which brand do you use?

Me: (Beware! This mom too eager to start a conversation; but mommy pride gets the better of my senses) Actually, we don’t really use diapers for her anymore.

m4: Wow! How old is she?

Me: (Groan... I trapped myself again) *Repeat mode*

m4: Is she fully potty trained?

Me: *Nod*

m4: And she doesn’t even wet her bed in the night?

Me: (Silly brain doing the ego dance again) Nope

m4: (Glaring at the sweetie-pie) See, she is a whole year younger to you and she doesn’t soil her pants or wet them even. And we have to spend so much picking up diapers for you. Next time you wet your pants, you surely getting a whack!

Child: Quizzical clueless look and then a triumphant grin as she wets her pants and the floor.

Me: (Swift exit before the promised whack)
 

Scenario 5: Mirror Mirror on the wall, who’s the Fairest of them all??

Location - Waiting room, Paediatric ward

Storyline –

m5: You know what, your daughter is anaemic

[Wow that’s quite an eye-opener for us. We just imagined she was fairer-skinned.

And where’s that age question?!]

My Brain: (BEWARE! Free advice gonna be dispensed.) *No response*

m5:  (Undeterred) I have 3 kids, look at them; that’s THE healthy pink glow.

My Brain: *Admiringly (genuine) look at her brood*

m5:  Yours is very pale. And quite thin too.

My Brain: (I would prefer “fair and slender”)

m5: You should start her on iron supplements. And try nutritional supplements like [let me not name the brands here].

My Brain: (Feeling really bad for the ped who spent hours and a whole lot of dough to get her coveted certification. All she needed to do was become mom to >1 “pink” kid.)

m5: (Gosh! This lady doesn’t give up) You should take more care of her. After all a child is very precious.

My Brain: (Thank you for reminding me. And does it matter that I have brought her for routine vaccination and not to treat fever like 2 of your kids?)

m5: She looks very weak

My Brain: (I surrender)

Hey Parents, leave us kids alone…

Had enough?

Well I could go on and on with the list of comparisons that I have heard in 2 years of mommyhood.

Do we really need to undermine another kid or feel miserable about our own?

Do we really need to set high expectations for the tots and for ourselves this early?

And would this stop here? NO. 

Sometimes with a Holier-than-thou triumphant look and sometimes with a dejected one, you will keep comparing food habits and interest in music and sartorial choice and preschool and gadgets and co-curricular activities and… phewww phewww phewwwwww… Let me catch my breath…

Let my child catch her breath... Let your children catch their breath…

Each one of us would surely love to have a super-achieving flawless kid. But wouldn’t it be great if each excelled where their aptitude lies?

While we can surely be their guide, let’s not send them on a relentless pursuit of what WE deem “desirable”.

Fellow mommies and daddies  – let’s hear from you…

Just a little note here – it’s not only the mommies, sometimes a daddy or a grandparent or an aunt or …… ok a “care-taker” of the kiddo has played this comparison game too. 

Oh and I just received this as a forward on a mobile messaging app:

 

The end of a budding mathematician

As soon as my little one reached a “milestone” [defined by me of course] age, my mind started running helter-skelter in the labyrinth of my thoughts ::-

•  Do I take up this new job opportunity coming my way or do I choose to continue being at home ensuring my girl indulges my whims and vice versa?
• Do I take up a part-time assignment or do I go all out?
• Do I look out for a day-care to take care of her while I take care of my job or do I keep her at home under my care? [this reminds me of the she sells sea shells tongue twister :) ]
• Do I hire a lady to be at home with her, but without anyone to supervise the unknown lady when am not around? [all the horror stories I have heard/read got magnified a zillion times]
• Do I accept that I might have to leave her & travel or would I want to stay by her little side?
• Do I just walk out while her eyes search for me & stay away for a major part of the day or would I want to be within reach of her little arms? [oooooooh the emotion-laden Me]
• Do I satisfy my MBA ego or do I heed the hitherto unknown maternal voice in my heart? – THE most crucial question

Mind vs. Heart, Logic vs. Emotion – oh my very own Game of Thrones playing within me.

And then started the actual pen to paper calculations of Hubby & his wife earning “x1 + x2” amount minus multiple cost factors vis-à-vis not earning “x2” and taking care of child at home.

Samples::

• Earning of husband “x1” + Earning of his wife “x2” = X
• Earnings “X” – (Rent paid “a” + Day-care cost “b” + Cook “c” + House help “d” + Misc monthly expenses “e” + Weekend outings “f” + Monthly groceries “g” + Existing EMIs “i”)
• e = laundry + electricity + cable subscription + Wi-Fi ……… Endless, hence, e
• If LO is put in a pre-school of our choice, then Earnings “X” – (School fees “h” + Day-care cost “a” + …..)
• Knowing my culinary expertise, if I fail to manage morning cooking in the morning mad rush to school + office, then cook cost = c1 + c2
• If I hire help only for sweeping + mopping then d1, if also dusting then add d2
• Oh but if dusting only once a week then d2 might become d2/4…  Note: “might”
• If house help is also for washing utensils, then d3
• If we want to avoid d3 and go for dishwasher, then need to quickly decide which brand. In that case, do we opt for down payment or EMI? If EMI, then let’s call that “i1 +i2 = I” and do the maths all over again… Earnings “X” – (School fees “h” +…….. + EMI “I”)
• Aaah but day-care would be till a certain time in the evening, so someone has to pick her up & be with her till either hubby or I get back home. And we are talking about current work norms & traffic conditions where seeing your face at home before a godforsaken hour means you are not working “hard” enough or are currently “out of job”.
• Okay, then lets add a full-time nanny cost “j” or even if we go for a conservative part-time estimate, then approx. “0.66 j”. Hmmm, so then it is Earnings “X” – (School fees “h” + Nanny “0.66h” +…….. + EMI “I”). And since we have nanny here, then subtract the Day-care cost “a”.
• Now, if x2 is missing, then calculation is like Earning “x1” – (School fees “h” + Maybe only c1 +d1 +d3 Or EMI “I” + ……….)
• And on and on and on went all sorts of permutations & combinations in my mind & on paper….

Wow… I never knew I was such a mathematical genius. Such “complex” calculations would surely put the most experienced mathematician to shame. Now I wonder why I would be so apprehensive about those Maths exams at school!!

On one such calculating evening, hubby catches me grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

Me:  “Yohooo… I have got it… have worked out the CBA… ummmm the BCA….. aah whatever”.

Hubby (Warily… & wearily): “Are you referring to Cost-Benefit Analysis by any chance?”

Me:  “Oh by every chance !! I have got all our expenses figured out… “

H:  “And…??”

Me:  “And soon I shall be able to take that all-important decision”

H:  “Ohhhhkkkkkkk”… & he turns to his mobile device [and for once I don’t notice the digression]

While I gleefully turn to my work of art… Scientific art… Or artistic science... Oh what the heck… am confused what to call it… Just that the calculations on the paper in multi-colour ink and with lots of lines drawn across resembled a piece of modern art.

And then hubby’s eyebrows shot up quizzically… his daughter’s high-strung artistic mathematician mommy had let out an inadvertent “Oh Noooooooo”…

H:  [Eyebrows still stuck on the upper echelons of his amused face]

Me:  “Haven’t calculated the cost of travelling and given the traffic situation in the city, haven’t taken into account the accurate time to be spent on road + time spent at home playing with kid + time spent getting irritable with the toddler’s tantrums + time spent…… never mind… I simply need to start a fresh set of calculations”

And my long face became even longer…

In the midst of May, whilst this entire “kal boisakhi” (Nor'westers) was ravaging my mind, I turned to the experienced granny for her pearls of wisdom (I always thought she looks pretty in her pearls).

After patiently hearing me rambling, Granny decided it was payback time.

Granny: “Since my son-in-law is a wonderful boy [and the praises went on !!! Sigghhhh…. I tell you she’s discreetly biased towards this guy] and supports you in all your decisions, you need to make the eventual decision by following the innermost voice of your heart.”  [Ok Ma, you are not really helping me here]

And then followed more & more sentences – couldn’t retain much as they were choking my mind – although I knew they were being processed sub-consciously. But I clearly recollect the concluding line of the telephonic conversation -

Granny:  “…..But remember, if you do choose to dedicate yourself to her, it would be YOUR decision; don’t ever blame her for giving up your career.” [Wooosh… this was a sternly fantastic K.O. punch from granny’s kitty]

Flashback mode happened – and I knew she had chosen her heart over her head for her children. Yes, she had given up her nascent career to take care of me & that did do wonders to my psyche. Not that I realised it then.  But I appreciate it now when I have been gifted the role of a mother. It was all so implicit, I couldn’t ever imagine otherwise. It never occurred to me that I could be running back to an empty home from school, that my gargantuan snacks appetite would be met by someone else or not at all. That when I was unwell, there could be someone else to soothe me. That when I needed advice, I would have to wait till she got back home & had masked her work worries. That when rebellious teenage hormones were racing, there would be someone else to calm me down and make me see reason. That when I decided to fly the nest, someone else would be the first person to push me towards my goal. And….. sniff sniff sniff… ok let me leave it for another day to say how I feel till this day. The comfort of knowing she was around without interfering in my freedom was so naturally assumed that I didn’t imagine otherwise.

In all my self-proclaimed mathematical wizardry, had forgotten to factor in all the above plus the Intangible tension of the rat race + Hours missed with child while commuting to & from work place + The time when my child will look for at least one parent & might not find any in the house ……. Stop stop stop… I don’t think my keyboard is waterproof….

What was the reason I hadn’t rushed back to the rat race after her birth? Because she had given me the impetus to enjoy my pace. Because it was much more gratifying to serve her and be charmed by her than to charm the service world.

Ok… what then of my degree, those hours slogged at the former workplaces, my interaction with adults, my financial independence, my …. Oh God… let me not get started on that list now.

But again if I know myself well, I definitely don’t have a career as a juggler.

The infamous “Ifs and Buts” merrily danced the tango in my mind. After some more days of edginess, the battle within was won with a decisive thought. Yes, the neighbourhood day-care would have to redo its projections. Yes, the economy would suffer as some prospective women don’t get the desired jobs in our house. No, I shall not blame the innocent granddaughter. Yes, I had made up my mind and only I was responsible for this decision. Yes, Mom’s pearls had mesmerized yet again.

So, with an affected reluctant gesture (had to pretend to my MBA conscience at least that I was reluctant) tore up the masterpieces of calculations. Ma – the world will never forgive you – you just nipped a budding mathematics genius. But for the two ladies to whom you mean the world – we love you for squashing the calculations.

P.S. - An honest huge huge huge shout out to all the working moms I know (& the many that I don’t) who have the tenacity to handle kid/s, home and a job, travel et al… kudos to you moms… Whatever reason energizes you to perform this balance, in my mind each one of you is a Wonder Woman.

At times, I do like to imagine I could be that super-woman too. But till the day I don that mantle, if at all I do, let me busy myself making you read my musings ;)

Plaudits for my MIL for working till retirement and nurturing lovely children :)