The perfect mother

We live in an intense world. A world that constantly tells us our lives aren't good enough. We need to do more, buy more, be more. In that world it's hard not to go bat shit crazy when you have a child. As I do. Everyday.

Should I teach him Spanish? Or Japanese? Or Mandarin? Or something else entirely?  Does he need to learn how to play chess yet? Music classes? I heard you should make them learn a sport? Tennis, swimming, cricket? Kumon classes, must start Kumon classes. It'll help him with maths. Note to self: Include math in daily life.Wait, he likes to paint, let's start art sessions. What about theater? That could help him express himself better. Violin. Shit wasn't that supposed to start at 3? But doesn't he like guitars better? Buggers, I haven't read to him recently. 2nd note to self: read to him every night.

My son is 3 years old. This is the average set of thoughts that passes through my mind. About 12 times a day. Every day. Then I hyperventilate and stress about what a terrible, inadequate mother I am. How I am stealing my sons chance at perfection. It'll be my fault that I didn't give him the right building blocks for the future.

May be it's because I am a single parent. Or maybe it's all parents. We put so much pressure on ourselves to be the perfect parents. To do everything right. To cover all the bases. We forget that we're still human. Becoming a parent didn't give us super powers. We weren't suddenly blessed with the ability to make the correct decision all the time.

The funny thing is I'm not even the kind of mother who wants her son to be a super achiever. I just want him to use his potential to the fullest and be happy. So every day, about 12 times, I take a few deep breaths and tell myself it's all right. I'll get some things right and I'll screw some things up. My son will be angry with me, tell me he hates me, ask me to leave him the hell alone. But hopefully, most of the time, he'll love me and let me know. If I can just be honest with us both and do my best, we will make it. Together.

I learn everyday that I don't have to be the perfect mother. I just have to be me, crazy, fun, sad and stupid. All of me. 

Boys like pink...and other such things

When my little baby boy was born I was shocked. I'd always wanted a girl, because boys were...well..boys! I didn't know what to do with one. I'd never had a brother, no nephews, nothing to prepare me for a little boy. Slowly though it dawned on me that I had been blessed. Not because I had birthed a boy, which frankly in India makes you as goddess-like as can be, but because I had been given the opportunity to raise a boy. Raise him the way boys in most cultures over the world aren't raised. To be sensitive, to respect themselves and women, to grow into men and not just little boys in big bodies. To make responsible choices and be accountable for themselves.

I didn't realize it was going to be a walk through a mine-field. You never quite see the prejudices of those around you till the need arises. I wanted to teach my son it's ok to cry, to talk through his anger and sadness, to use words and hugs. I wanted to let him make his own decisions, without biases. If he wanted to wear his Nani's bindi or sister's hairclips, I wasn't going to say no. So he did. The first few times everyone thought he was adorable. Then one day he wanted to go to the park in his sisters clothes. The guy who's worked with us for over a decade was stunned. "sab ulti cheez sikha rahe ho aap isko". He let it pass.

One morning he got ready for school. Wearing his sister's cycling shorts under her teeny-tiny denim shorts and a pink t-shirt with sparkles on it. My mother flipped a lid. It was fine till it was restricted to the house or the neighborhood park but how could I send him to school like that? Why not? She spluttered and stuttered, "Because he's a boy!" So can't boys wear pink t-shirts or cycling shorts? What's the big deal if he goes for a haircut and wants nail polish put as a reward?

It's his body and his choices. If he loves pink, great. My job is to make him strong enough to handle the tons of ridicule that will come his way for choices he makes throughout his life. Do I want him to stop putting hair clips? No. My moment of happiness will be when he can put a hair clip, face the mockery and come away from it without his self-esteem taking a battering. I don't care how he dresses, if he's gay or straight, if he becomes an engineer or a mountaineer. I want him to know himself and have the strength to stand up for his beliefs.

Because boys should be allowed to be kids. They don't need to man up and not cry or wear dull colors. Because boys like pink. And nail polish. And bindis. And hair clips. Who wouldn't?

Stay at home mom vs. the working mom

It's interesting how things that weren't even a blip on your radar earlier suddenly come to your notice. And then all you can see is that. The whole working mom vs stay at home mom debate is like that for me. I didn't even know it existed a couple of years ago and now every time I turn my head the debate is raging, in blogs, on FB, among my friends. I figured it's time I jumped on the band wagon.

I am an in-between mom. I chose to not take up a full time career. Mostly because I am a single parent and didn't want to leave my child who'd already been through the trauma of divorce. Even if I weren't I would probably not have gone to work full-time. I feel it's my responsibility, if I've brought another human being into the world, to do the best I can by him. So for two years I stayed at home and then I started freelancing as a writer. Which basically means I'm at home, awake at 4 am typing away to meet deadlines with an occasional foray into office. That said, it's my choice. What is right for me, with my child, in my given set of circumstances. Does that mean it's the right choice for everyone? NO!

C'mon people. Let's give each other and ourselves a break. Let's not judge people for the choices they make. In my opinion there is only one thing that a parent MUST do. And that is to do the best they can. In their circumstances, with their resources. If you need to or want to work full-time, by all means, go ahead. It makes you no better or worse a parent than the mother who stays at home. Just as her staying at home makes her no better or worse than the one who works full-time. The focus is not your work status but the quality of life you provide for your child. I define quality as the time you spend teaching them all the things you want them to learn, about life and themselves. Quality is very different from quantity. You can spend all day with a child and offer nothing but abuse and neglect. Or meet them an hour a day and enrich their lives. And vice-versa.

So here's what I tell anyone who asks. Do your best by your child. If your attitude is right you don't really need to stress about anything else. My mom stayed at home but was often busy through the day with the house and her in-laws. Yet I learnt so much just watching her. About what I wanted to be and also what I didn't want to be. Today I try my best to set an example for my son. To be the kind of person I would want him to be. To follow his dreams, his passion. To be happy. For me that means working so that I can be independent, self-reliant and creatively fulfilled. It means traveling. It means building strong bonds of friendship. More than anything it means loving myself and being happy with my life. So that is what I do. My decisions are based on what I would like him to do in a similar situation, or what I would like him to see me doing. From there, things just become so much simpler.

If you want to work, full-time, part-time, freelance, go ahead and do it. If it makes you happy you have every right. You want to be at home all day, there's no reason not to. Do what is right for you. What is important for you. To all those people with the lists of pros and cons to be debated over, a mother's life choices are her own and no one else's business, so find something else to argue over. What our society needs is happy, healthy children. Parents need to make that happen. Single, couples, working, at home, mothers, fathers, all of us together. That is it! 

I'm a woman, then a mother

Because I think this is relevant for all parents. Especially for mothers. Even more for single mothers. Single parents tend to take on a lot more guilt about having a life of their own, leaving their precious babies who already have so much to deal with without them. But it really is the best thing you can do. For yourself, and your baby. You'll teach him/her to be more respectful of women. To follow their own dreams and passions. To find their happiness. And you can only do that by example. So love your child by loving yourself first. Be happy so that they can learn to be happy. And trust me, an unhappy parent can never do justice by their children.

My body, your body

When I was a little girl I loved having a bath with my pittu. He was the center of my universe. I'd carry his photo to sleep if I was away from him and watch him every moment we were together. No one was bigger, stronger and handsomer than my father.

And then the daily baths stopped. Without a word of explanation. Had I done something wrong? Did he not love me anymore? I remember being terribly hurt and confused. All my questions were faced with a stony silence or a stern admonition to just accept the decision.

As an adult I understand that it was because I was growing older and my parents didn't think it was right for a young girl to bathe with her father. Oh how I wish they had handled it differently.

So when I became a single parent I decided I wouldn't deal with body issues the same way with my son. We bathe together every day, I change my clothes in front of him and I try my best to not swallow my tongue when he asks the inevitable awkward questions.

Before you think I'm a pervert I did what I always do when confused and read up a lot on how to deal with kids, nudity and body issues before making my decision. The unanimous answer, which appealed to me, was you will pass on to your kids your views. They will be as comfortable with their bodies and those of the opposite sex as you are. I had always been darned uncomfortable! With mine and everyone else's!

So as I did with so many other things after my son came into my life, I changed. As he asks me now why his chest looks different from mine, I tell him it's because I'm older and a woman. It seems to satisfy his curiosity. I think it's a hell lot better than swatting his hands away or never letting him see my breasts, making them and the breasts of all women always, mysterious and forbidden. Twisting it in his head till he feels compelled to believe the nonsense which will surely be swarming around him soon. When he asks why boys and girls have different peeing apparatus I tell him, as simply as I can, how their bodies are meant to be different. If he wants to touch himself or walk around naked, he can, as long he's in a safe space.

He knows he grew inside my stomach, he wasn't a gift from god or a parcel from the birds.

It's so important for our children to be comfortable and safe in their knowledge and exploration of their bodies, their sexuality and that of those around them. As parents, we hold that key. So let's shine the light and tell our little ones it's ok to touch, to ask questions, to see their mommies and daddies naked and see the differences. Let's not making it hidden and shameful. It's time we owned our bodies so that our children can own theirs.