What is it about the word "Mother" or "Parent" which just makes us sit up and shiver? Why is it such a "loaded" word? When was the exact time that changed, what was a very natural phenomenon, into such a task, so as to say?
My experience as a mother has been, well, a natural one. I am still on the learning curve although it is more than 15 years since I became one. Looking back, I can truthfully say that all in all it has been (as yet) a very fulfilling and fun filled journey. Yes, the long nights of colic induced howls, those periods of energetic burst which were always peaked after
When I see the new age moms of today, I feel I belonged to another era or maybe another planet for all you know. They are equipped with the latest gizmos of beepers and trackers and baby monitors and what have you. All that a baby needs is secure feeling of your loving arm around him. Your strong heartbeat next to his tiny one will instill such a feeling of security that even the best of the "How to Be A Perfectionist Mother" types of books will be unable to ever explain.
What gets my goat is this new concept of "structured playtime". How can anything as fun as "play" be structured? Where have all the playgrounds filled with dirty, disheveled but joyful kids gone? Are those days of rolling in the mud and doing cartwheels on the lawns a thing of the past? Will kids have to plan their "play dates" so as to experience what it is to play? When I read about this new age playschool that had special sessions for “mother-child” playtime, I was astounded! I mean, if you have to TEACH a mother to play with her own child, then I think we need to brace ourselves to hear about “How to breathe” classes or maybe “how to grow from a girl to a woman” classes or maybe even “how to walk to the bus stop” classes!
I think we all are taking parenting too seriously! My parents never freaked out when they saw bleeding elbows, broken teeth or dislocated shoulders. Everything was taken in their stride and “Bai’s home remedies” (we addressed our paternal grandmom as Bai) were called for. Very rarely was the doctor ever needed. In no time, we would be fit and fine for another disaster. My parents had the same approach to our results. Full scores and red lines were met with the same yogic equilibrium. No exhilarated whoopies on bagging the first rank and no suicide attempts on failing the exams. When I see the parents of today at PTA meetings, chewing the teacher’s brains for “that half mark you wrongly cut” I pity them. This is not the way to live or teach your child to live. How much will that half mark matter when you are in the sunset of your life and reminiscing about your life’s journey?
I hope I can leave my son a legacy of love, a treasure trove of happiness and a hoarding of cherished memories, which he can draw upon when he faces the ups and downs of his life. I hope I can instill in him the ability to embrace gracefully whatever life throws at him and the strength to carry on happily, irrespective of the setbacks.
