"Cooking is an art and I can never master it" is a fact that I have accepted and till date I could not see any problems with that given fact. I can manage to gobble down anything I cook because I can appreciate the effort I put behind that dish .. however bad it tastes. And luckily for me my husband too doesn't complain much unless it's really pathetic.But now.. the future is what am worried about. When I was young (Ok.. am still young!!) ..So let me put it this way.. when I was small and school going, I never really liked what my mom cooked. I always thought my friends were lucky because their snack boxes always had yummy stuff and mine always had the boring Idly,dosa and upma type stuff which I hated. Luckily for me, I had a Bengali friend who used to love what my mom cooked and we used to exchange our snack boxes. I just used to love what her mom used to give .. potato mash sandwiches or ghee laden rotis with some yummy sabzee and a Sweet (remember Bengali!) or even better some paranthas. (and I really thought my friend was a fool to exchange all that for my idly's!!). And my mom was always wondering why I was getting plumpier by the day by just eating Idly's and upma and my friend's mom was wondering why she was not getting plumpier in spite of those paranthas and sweets! Now they know!
So coming to the future point, What if my daughter too hates my cooking? What if she is not as lucky as me to get a Bengali friend to exchange her tiffin? What if none of her friends like her tiffin?No..Things can't be that bad..yeh? So I think I have two options now.. one to master my cooking before she starts going to school ( 3 years sounds good enough time for that.. yeh?) Two... to find her a Bengali friend :D
The second option is the one.. anyday!
Friday, October 9, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
First month of Motherhood :)
This post is important to me. My memory is very unreliable and I don't want to sit 5 or 10 years down the line trying hard to recollect how exactly did I feel during the biggest transformation of my life.
A month ago, on Sept 5th 2009, 11:34 am IST my bundle of joy arrived in this world. I wanted a big band of music to welcome her, blow trumpets,play violins.. the drums.. but the little one had to settle for her own sweet and rhythmic cries as her welcome music.. well it definitely was music for me! Then my anxiety was at its peak, the sister's wouldn't show me my baby unless they had cleaned her up. Baby girl or baby boy? Baby girl, the sister said. How is she to look at? Beautiful, big eyes, small nose, button lips, long fingers.., sister told me. My agonising wait to see the baby and hold her ended after half and hour. All the past nine months I had been dreaming about this moment and imagining how I would feel.. Just like seeing the Taj Mahal for the first time, or would there be that instant mother baby bonding, would I have tears in my eyes? and when finally it happened, it was nothing like I had imagined. I was scared to hold her as I felt I was dirty enough and also because I felt she was too small for me to hold her safely and then I was trying hard to register that this was my baby and I am the mother :).
The month after that D Day just flew.. taking each day as it came, I went through a whale of emotions, mammoth learning, building patience, fighting mood swings, sharing happiness, recovering from pain, hating the weighing machine, flood of visitors, some wanted some unwanted, sleep deprived, exhausted, delighted, worried, tensed, confused, and every other emotion one can think of. I felt I was lost in time and space. I had no idea what date and which day of the week it was. Every day was another day with lot of activity packed in.
Recalling week wise:
The first week was incredibly tough. I wanted to cry at the end of each day. I felt tired, in extreme pain and exhaustion all the time, yet there was so much to do. The baby wouldn't sleep at night as she was sleeping all day and everybody would advice sleep when the baby sleeps.. easier said than done. There was constant inflow of guests, and just when I felt asleep , the baby would wake up for feed or a diaper change. There was advice pouring in from all directions. Filtering good advice from the useless ones was the most difficult part. I now feel guilty that there were a few times in that week, when I wanted to run away from everything, everyone.. rewind everything and go back to my old life. I lost interest in everything, everyone. I don't even want to now recollect the most horrible week of my life till date. Quite different from what I expected. The week my baby arrived, by my expectations I should've been the happiest, on cloud 9 but I was fighting depression, sulking most of the time when the breakthrough came on day 5 of the week. My baby's first smile!! I couldn't believe she did that! The most beautiful smile I ever saw and life started looking brighter!
Week 2 was lot lot better. I felt better health wise, and started slowly bouncing back to normal. By now I had gained some experience in feeding, cleaning and changing diapers and rocking the baby to sleep. The awkwardness while holding the baby slowly disappeared and I was lot more confident in holding her.
Week 3.. I got used to the late nights and looked forward to playing with the baby at 2:30 am :).
Week 4 was the best. My husband finally managed to get leave from work and we finally got together. All 3 of us. One happy family. The happiness I would cherish forever.
This one is for all the mother's.. God created Mothers coz he felt he couldn't be present everywhere! So True!
A month ago, on Sept 5th 2009, 11:34 am IST my bundle of joy arrived in this world. I wanted a big band of music to welcome her, blow trumpets,play violins.. the drums.. but the little one had to settle for her own sweet and rhythmic cries as her welcome music.. well it definitely was music for me! Then my anxiety was at its peak, the sister's wouldn't show me my baby unless they had cleaned her up. Baby girl or baby boy? Baby girl, the sister said. How is she to look at? Beautiful, big eyes, small nose, button lips, long fingers.., sister told me. My agonising wait to see the baby and hold her ended after half and hour. All the past nine months I had been dreaming about this moment and imagining how I would feel.. Just like seeing the Taj Mahal for the first time, or would there be that instant mother baby bonding, would I have tears in my eyes? and when finally it happened, it was nothing like I had imagined. I was scared to hold her as I felt I was dirty enough and also because I felt she was too small for me to hold her safely and then I was trying hard to register that this was my baby and I am the mother :).
The month after that D Day just flew.. taking each day as it came, I went through a whale of emotions, mammoth learning, building patience, fighting mood swings, sharing happiness, recovering from pain, hating the weighing machine, flood of visitors, some wanted some unwanted, sleep deprived, exhausted, delighted, worried, tensed, confused, and every other emotion one can think of. I felt I was lost in time and space. I had no idea what date and which day of the week it was. Every day was another day with lot of activity packed in.
Recalling week wise:
The first week was incredibly tough. I wanted to cry at the end of each day. I felt tired, in extreme pain and exhaustion all the time, yet there was so much to do. The baby wouldn't sleep at night as she was sleeping all day and everybody would advice sleep when the baby sleeps.. easier said than done. There was constant inflow of guests, and just when I felt asleep , the baby would wake up for feed or a diaper change. There was advice pouring in from all directions. Filtering good advice from the useless ones was the most difficult part. I now feel guilty that there were a few times in that week, when I wanted to run away from everything, everyone.. rewind everything and go back to my old life. I lost interest in everything, everyone. I don't even want to now recollect the most horrible week of my life till date. Quite different from what I expected. The week my baby arrived, by my expectations I should've been the happiest, on cloud 9 but I was fighting depression, sulking most of the time when the breakthrough came on day 5 of the week. My baby's first smile!! I couldn't believe she did that! The most beautiful smile I ever saw and life started looking brighter!
Week 2 was lot lot better. I felt better health wise, and started slowly bouncing back to normal. By now I had gained some experience in feeding, cleaning and changing diapers and rocking the baby to sleep. The awkwardness while holding the baby slowly disappeared and I was lot more confident in holding her.
Week 3.. I got used to the late nights and looked forward to playing with the baby at 2:30 am :).
Week 4 was the best. My husband finally managed to get leave from work and we finally got together. All 3 of us. One happy family. The happiness I would cherish forever.
This one is for all the mother's.. God created Mothers coz he felt he couldn't be present everywhere! So True!
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