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Antsy Pantsy

Some people have trouble being cooped up. Even if it isn’t in a tiny space and even if they don’t suffer from claustrophobia.

Take my kid for example…sitting still is a challenge. He’d rather be running his mouth and legs off all at once and flit between shadowing bowling, getting jiggy with it and talking his distracted head off.

We’re on a train right now and off to visit my folks for the holidays and am wondering why we didn’t splurge on flight tickets instead. Spending time with our children is seriously overrated at times.

We have a comfy cabin and everything but it’s not big enough to bounce hyperactive balls on, or take a running lead and pretend to bowl out a phantom batsman playing cricket among other things.

Seeing him go through stages of being slightly tolerable to obviously obnoxious, I was reminded of the days when I used to work and he was in kindergarten. His school transport would drop him off at my office and between me and my colleagues, someone would keep him busy while I got on calls or spoke to clients or sent out emails; often at the speed of light just to be able to wind up everything super quick and get him back home

One day I was on a fairly important call with a team we wanted to partner up with while offering our services and an-almost 4 year old decided that post going to the loo he no longer wanted to wear his pants and wanted to moon all the people I worked with instead.

The person I was talking to was droning on and on, not letting me get a word in edge-wise so I couldn’t hang up either and this is the scenario that played out: an irate and striving-to-appear professional woman chased a half-naked kid around her office and hissed at him sotto voce to put his pants back on immediately while uh-huhing with a guy who was tripping on his own voice.

Finally I think I bellowed to a kid who was on top of a kiddy ladder and about to bounce onto a foam mat to behave himself and put his pants back on or he was going to get spanked!

There was an immediate pin drop silence from the phone while a semi-naked little boy flew through the air, giggled his butt off and again ran off to do something else that would make the veins pop on his mother’s head.

The call was hastily wound up and a new time scheduled. The new call went by in a blink, we kept to the main points and even skipped the pleasantries entirely. The synergy took place, bumbums were covered up and the world was at peace again.

Till the next time. S-I-G-H

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Waterloo-Circa 2014

Quite a few times it’s happened that I wrote something but couldn’t publish it because my inner crazy lady didn’t allow for anything to get sent out unless the requisite tags and categories had been ticked off. While cleaning up the blogging space, I’ve come across stuff I’ve left half-written, written but unedited or written with just the publishing bit left. This is one of them.”

Ordinarily I am a card-carrying agnostic but today I am ready to drop to my knees and give thanks to the Galactic Amoeba if it means that MLM will conk off early and give me a wide berth while he does so.

Today has been mind-numbingly exhausting and I have begun to think that I’ve lost my temper for the last time with no clear roadmap to find it again. I just wanted MLM restrained in one place. And since they don’t have straitjackets in preschooler size…well you get my drift.

Some days are so extraordinarily taxing that you end up questioning what the heck you thought you were getting into when you were happy to see those 2 little red lines. Let me illustrate…I’ve had dinosaurs in my food, in my coffee, in front of my face, going up my nose, peeking into my ear, poking in my gluteus maximus and all because I sought to foster his love for the wretched reptiles by buying him more dino figures to boost his pretend play and keep him from the evils of the idiot box! *bangs head against the wall*

Right about now I have no problem if he turns into a tater tot on his way to becoming a couch potato if it means I’ll get 2 minutes of peace while I use the loo.

Till then I’ll give my knees some workout and pray for sleep…

“He that sleeps feels not the tooth-ache.”
Cymbeline (5.4.176)

Or the aches brought on by the force of nature in the guise of a child!


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The Shackles of Empowerment

After publishing my post last evening, I was thinking about how things are in the world around me these days and I can’t help but think of women and how some lives are changing every day and others might be stuck in a different era for all the changes they have been exposed to.

While I was growing up, emancipation was a huge buzzword. We read about it in regarding to the freeing of the slaves, the changes in South Africa and now these days it’s all about being “empowered”; even more so if you’re of the female gender.

Webster’s Diction defines empowerment as-

  • authority or power given to someone to do something.”individuals are given empowerment to create their own dwellings”
  • the process of becoming stronger and more confident, especially in controlling one’s life and claiming one’s rights. “political steps for the empowerment of women”

I, for one, would like the second definition of the word to be more prevalent with the first definition coming in to facilitate and enable the latter as and when necessary.

It seems very claustrophobic at times  when a woman in this day and age *has* to subscribe to be empowered or supporting empowerment for the rest. I’m all for free will and all the other requisite freedoms being the norm for an individual, rather than as an exception but having to get on the bandwagon for a “Cause” whether I feel like it or not, seems rather forced and not much of an empowerment.

The household help that I have; I view them as rather empowered. They earn for their families, they raise their kids, they participate in all social functions, festivities and still manage to get more done than people like myself who hire them to make our lives easier. They may still have to defer to the men in their families but then again, I do too. I defered to my father while I was growing up and often defer to my husband in decisions pertaining to our family. And yet I can very confidently state that I am rather empowered to “do my own thing” and live life on my own terms.

The moms who work 12-14 hours in a day are fantastic management experts without necessarily being in that role. They see to their career progression, have a semblance of a social life, take care of their health, raise their kids and still remain productive people for the most part. I would call them empowered too.

The SAHMs, me included, who manage things on the home front; either out of a need or a want and have supporting families who enable them to choose whether they want to work 10-hour days outside the home or work throughout the day in a systematic manner inside; I view us an lot empowered as well.

So why do we have these labels of Feminazi coming up when a women talks more stringently of other women being stronger? For that matter, why do we *have* to show support for things which are personal choices for most urbane women?

I know a family where the mom of 2 young girls lives in an South East Asian country while the rest of her family live in India. Her kids are raised jointly by her parents and her husband and everyone, right from her parents to her spouse, is terribly hands on and the girls are happy and well-adjusted. The mom flies down to India for almost every single festival, occasion and event and am sure is proving to be a strong role model for her girls. As is the grandmother. Are these 2 women empowered by our definitions?

Isn’t our time better spent in spreading messages of hygiene, safety for women and children at large? Do we really need a high-level CEO alone talking about Work-Life-Balance? Can we spend time lifting up each and everyone who tries to do something new, different or just tries to chalk out a separate place for themselves to shine? Do the ones bringing in a paycheck have to champion the cause of those who don’t?

So where does the source of our empowerment lie? Who gets to take a call about my self-worth and the thoughts that I “ought” to think? Maybe sisterhood isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be if we all need to be on the same page and forget to respect, however grudgingly, our individual differences.

Something to think about.

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A Few Words From A SAHM

I am a SAHM. I like writing the abbreviation rather than typing out the whole shebang viz Stay At Home Mom. And I think quite a bit of time and effort is being spent on Mira Rajput and her choice of words regarding her own daughter.

I suppose if I wanted to, I could extrapolate, that when Mira Rajput used the word “puppy” in reference to leaving her child behind at home while she went out to work, she was likening all the children “left behind ” to puppies. It could also be that it was a less than tactful choice of words to describe a situation which is touchy, difficult and something that women can genuinely never really come to terms with, IMHO.

But again IMHO, Mira Rajput is neither a role model for women, of any age, to emulate; nor is she an expert in parenting. She is merely a young woman who is thrust into the limelight because of the man she married and because of whom each and every action of hers is scrutinized and dissected.

Do I think it was an unfortunate choice of words? Yes. Do I think it was maliciously meant and demeaning to women around the world? No. Why not? Because I don’t give a fig about Mira Rajput or her opinions! I am too busy “working” as a SAHM raising my own “puppy”.

Ladies, with all the nonsense that surrounds us in the world these days; can’t we ever let go of the stuff that the media reports? Choose not to get wounded when nouveau celebs express their opinions about random things. Because it’s on their radar, doesn’t mean it should resonate so strongly with you. Or jar you so badly. These people aren’t the last word. Let’s stop giving them the podium and pulpit.

*mike drop*