So, another year begins at school. D is now 5 going on 15. He has learnt to do most things by himself: that includes daily ablutions, eating three square meals, jumping up to the switchboard and flicking on the light, ringing the doorbell, going off to sleep and running upstairs to mommy’s friend’s house when there has to be a give and take between her and mommy.
He is now a little person himself with decisions and opinions and quips and reprimands and tantrums. These days, I have often found myself switching roles with him. Like last night, when I was lying in bed with a bad migraine, he ruffled my hair and told me, “You sleep. I am right here. I am not going anywhere till you sleep.”
On nights when my husband’s travelling and it’s just D and me in bed, I have found myself cuddling up to D like he’s my dragon slayer. And there have been umpteen times when I have told him to sing me to sleep and he has promptly done so, albeit, a couple of times I have had to fall asleep to Lungi Dance.
D has also started showing an uncanny love for the kitchen. On most days, when he’s playing with his clay, you’d find him profoundly mouthing a recipe. I used to think he’s probably got that from the myriad cookery shows I have made him watch with me. But now, he comes to the kitchen and insists on ‘helping me out.’
So since the past few days, he has started fixing his own breakfast. He has learnt to beat the egg, pour it onto the pan, flip the omelette and then put it onto his plate. Today, wearing my apron, he proudly declared, “I am the Masterchef. You are my helper Mama.” I thought I’d give myself a fancy name too. So I said. “I am your sous-chef.” He was exuberant. He didn't care who a sous-chef was, but he was happy with his lofty title.
So that’s one more thing he has learnt to do on his own.
Sometimes, I wonder to myself: five years down the line, there will be many more chores that have been added to his list of achievements and ‘can do on his own’ tasks. I have friends who are in a quagmire thinking about how once their children become independent what would become of them?
I have never really thought that way. Yes, five years down the line, D may need me much lesser than he needs me now. But does that mean my role has been obliterated? Can we say that about our parents? Probably not.
Ever since D came into my life I have learnt to live in the here and the now: whether it has been quitting a job or going back to work, deciding to work on professional commitments from home or not taking them up at all, staying in a joint family or moving into a house of my own, cutting down on expenses or deciding to indulge. And yes, most of the decisions have centred around D and they always will.
But I have also learnt that the ‘needing’ part between parents and children is mutual. He needs me as much as I need him. So we’d probably leave the decision of what I’d do with my life when he doesn’t need me, to a later time.
As of now, I am busy playing the sous-chef and dreaming about the day (probably five years down the line) when I get to lounge on the sofa on a Sunday morning waiting to be served by the Masterchef...
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He is now a little person himself with decisions and opinions and quips and reprimands and tantrums. These days, I have often found myself switching roles with him. Like last night, when I was lying in bed with a bad migraine, he ruffled my hair and told me, “You sleep. I am right here. I am not going anywhere till you sleep.”
On nights when my husband’s travelling and it’s just D and me in bed, I have found myself cuddling up to D like he’s my dragon slayer. And there have been umpteen times when I have told him to sing me to sleep and he has promptly done so, albeit, a couple of times I have had to fall asleep to Lungi Dance.
D has also started showing an uncanny love for the kitchen. On most days, when he’s playing with his clay, you’d find him profoundly mouthing a recipe. I used to think he’s probably got that from the myriad cookery shows I have made him watch with me. But now, he comes to the kitchen and insists on ‘helping me out.’
So since the past few days, he has started fixing his own breakfast. He has learnt to beat the egg, pour it onto the pan, flip the omelette and then put it onto his plate. Today, wearing my apron, he proudly declared, “I am the Masterchef. You are my helper Mama.” I thought I’d give myself a fancy name too. So I said. “I am your sous-chef.” He was exuberant. He didn't care who a sous-chef was, but he was happy with his lofty title.
So that’s one more thing he has learnt to do on his own.
Sometimes, I wonder to myself: five years down the line, there will be many more chores that have been added to his list of achievements and ‘can do on his own’ tasks. I have friends who are in a quagmire thinking about how once their children become independent what would become of them?
I have never really thought that way. Yes, five years down the line, D may need me much lesser than he needs me now. But does that mean my role has been obliterated? Can we say that about our parents? Probably not.
Ever since D came into my life I have learnt to live in the here and the now: whether it has been quitting a job or going back to work, deciding to work on professional commitments from home or not taking them up at all, staying in a joint family or moving into a house of my own, cutting down on expenses or deciding to indulge. And yes, most of the decisions have centred around D and they always will.
But I have also learnt that the ‘needing’ part between parents and children is mutual. He needs me as much as I need him. So we’d probably leave the decision of what I’d do with my life when he doesn’t need me, to a later time.
As of now, I am busy playing the sous-chef and dreaming about the day (probably five years down the line) when I get to lounge on the sofa on a Sunday morning waiting to be served by the Masterchef...
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