Mother’s day

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Well, it’s not really mother’s day…got that done with a few days ago. my kids have ni clue what it is and honestly it isn’t really that much of a hype here in mumbai for the most part. Between 3 unwell babies, a nanny on leave and being bang in the middle of shifting apartments, the day came and went like any other. My boys wishes me …or rather, they repeated what dad asked them to say “happy mother’s day aai!” It was cute but honestly i was too tired to think about it.

Yesterday, by late afternoon, i was dead tired. I had spent the last two nights staying awake with the 3 babies ..changing sheets and clothes, tepid sponging, holding them as they threw up, hugging them through bad tempers and chills and cough attacks. Post lunch and cleaning up i was beat. The Ibugesic had worked on the twins and with their fever down they were so full of mischief that i wanted to say ‘no’ for every single thing they did…powder on the floor, pouring water on the floor, markers on their tshirts (so what if they are washable…someone still has to wash them!), fighting for the same toys, trying to open all the medicine bottles…and i wasw so super tired that my temper was slowly going up. Finally, when one of the twins dropped a really sticky antibiotic syrup onto a pile of toys, i snapped. I yelled at the boys and lifted them both up and put them on the bed. I wagged my finger at them, put on my sternest face and asked them to “STOP IT RIGHT NOW”. There was stunned silence. i lay down on the bed and said, ‘aai just got very very mad. You are really asking for trouble because you are doing everything you should not be doing. I am sorry if i yelled.” I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths.

Next thing i know both the boys came and snuggled upto me and gave me kisses..”sorry, it’s ok?” Sid came and cuddled, “love you” he said. Nish ran his fingers gently through my hair. “better?” he asked.

Yes my love, much much better. And this was my special mother’s day.

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About myfourboysandme

Mom - a word that defines me... I smell of oats, johnson's and home baked cookies I am pink, purple, green and orange and so is the floor my kids color on. Flour on my clothes and a brush in my pocket, my glasses bent out of shape and smudged with tiny fingerprints. I can't remember the date but i know almost 40 pictures books by heart. I wake up humming 'wheels on the bus'and i talk with my fingers and eyes and mouth. My bag carries band aids, napkins, wipes, crayons, papers, candy and sometimes my wallet. I know all the parks and very few of the restaurants in my neighborhood. Most of my shopping is diapers, books and paints My phd certificate lies in a roll, the frame now contains an abstract work of art by two year olds and i am prouder of that piece of paper. mom - a word that defines me!

One response »

  1. Its strange how these really tiny gestures of saying sorry or kissing or just blowing raspberries on you can calm the fiercest tempers and pour cold water over worst moods. Looks like p has caught on to this ace and now uses it just like that to make ‘amma feeeel goood’!

    By the way you are shifting? where to?

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