Mum is the word.

It’s a challenge to be a mum

To teach to talk to be freeimages (2)

To cook to clean to be me

To love to hate can’t compete

To face to brave and to repeat

To cry to laugh find a seat

To lay to sleep it’s a feat

 It is a challenge to be mum

 Phew! I need a glass of rum.

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Mammamia

It’s been 12 years since I became a mother but it still perplexes me at every turn. There have been times when I prided at task as simple as making the kids eat their meal and had shed tears cos the kid can’t spell a simple word. Lot of times I had questioned myself, what am I doing?

When I was a carefree teenager with absolutely no commitments, eating off my parent’s money, my dear mother had stated “being a mother is tough”. I had mocked at her and brushed it aside saying it’s no big deal. Little did I know those were the words of wisdom that warned me by an experienced matron.

Well here I am, not with one but two ‘adorable’ kids. Yeah, a title given by family and friends. Children are cute as long as they don’t belong to you. I became a mother with my first born and an umpire with my second. Why didn’t my mother warn about this role reversal? Many nights I had pondered over this. It’s like I am stuck between two warring nations, trying to sign a peace treaty. If I make the mistake of supporting one, then I am accused of loving him more. When I frantically summon for the third umpire, he slips out of the house in the pretext to buy something.

Sometimes I’ve a feeling that the elves are working against me. The neatly arranged kids’ wardrobe are in shambles the next day. The more I clean the house, the messier it becomes. It’s like a hurricane had just passed by. Those times I had wished to be Samantha from ‘Bewitched’ and all I had to do was to wriggle my nose and everything would fly back to their places.

My husband wanted 11 kids of his own to create a cricket team, until our second one started bowling. Living on the top floor It was nightmare. Every day I prayed for the soul, who may be standing underneath our window. Suddenly everything in my house had the ability to fly out. From kitchen ladles to toys to tv remote. It was the ‘terrible two’ phase. I tried wriggling my nose, but alas nothing happened. As Milton said, “Better to reign in hell”. Even hell seemed heavenly to me.

Now, in my glorious age with a more matured self and a sharpened wisdom, a realisation dawns on me. The knowledge that my wise mother had imparted, had all the answers to my questions. May be motherhood is not so easy, but it’s the best thing I’ve ever done. When I get those bear hugs, I love you’s, and raspberry kisses, it makes me want to do it all over again. Not that I will!

Thank u google for clip art.

letting her go

                    Waves were lapping at our feet,

                     teasing my little one for a retreat.

                     She looks into my eyes,

                     Let me go, see the world that lies

                     beyond this horizon where the sun dips,

                     to feel and see what sinks,

                     But I held her tight with fear

                     And not let the world near.

                    Her curious small almond eyes

                    looked at me to let go

                    and I did it with a quivering smile.

for a nap

Holding his swaddled little body

brought the cherub face close to my bosom,

giving the sweet nectar of life from my pap

I yearned for a peaceful nap.

With heavy, sleep laden eyes,

sore nipples and crampy thighs,

unkempt hair, a frizzy sight,

I yearned for a nap at night.

And when I thought the angelic face,

had enough of my heavy breast,

the devil wailed, pulling me from my rest,

and all I yearned was, for a nap from the fest.