Saturday, March 23, 2013

A regular Saturday afternoon.

I make the couch comfortable and snuggle in with a book in my hand. It is a nice, peaceful Saturday afternoon; a great day for reading. I am reading 'Brisingr'.

Ri is playing with his lego blocks. Building; creativity flowing; it’s nice. I like being the mom who gives her child space and independence for his development.

I start reading - 'Eragon places his right hand over Roran's scar and starts working on healing it.' This is one interesting book. Unputdownable!.

Suddenly Ri comes to me and says, "Mama, dekho microwave." I smile at him. He has made a nice little something with the blocks. I reply with a lot of glee, "WOW Ri! That's awesome!" He is happy. He grins back. I feel good about it.

"Yay, I am that super mom who is appreciative of the child. I acknowledge and encourage the child like the parenting sites have told me to do. I can sail through any parenting test and pass through flying colours", I say to myself.

I pat myself on the back and get back to my reading - 'Eragon places his right hand over Roran's scar and starts working on healing it...' Rihu comes again. "Mama, eat!" He puts his hand in my mouth. ‘Oh, my Ri! He is now cooking imaginary food for me. He must be really fond of me’, I happily say to myself. The cool mother that I am, I start chomping and make 'yummy food' noises. Noises good enough put the tasters of any cook show to shame. "Thanks Ri”, I say earnestly, “that was super yummy." He laughs and goes away.

Feeling proud of myself I get back to 'Brisngr' - 'Eragon places his right hand over Roran's scar and starts working on healing it.'

Ri approaches me again. He is loving this game. I know what this means. If he loves it, it can go on for hours. "Mama, eat!" I repeat all the actions again. This continues for a while and I haven’t made any progress on my reading.

The fifth or must be fiftieth time that Ri comes up to me and says, “Mama, eat!” This time I don't look at him. I continue reading but I open my mouth and make the yummy sounds.

But no, this isn't done. It is not allowed. This isn't how the game is supposed to be. He is not happy. He is still standing there next to me.  After a moment he says "Mama, five! Yay!" He wants me to give him a five now; with both hands. So I keep the book down and give him a five; with a smile. (I am a super mom, remember. Patience is a virtue I try to practice)

Well, so 'Eragon places his right hand over Roran's scar and starts working on healing it...' And yes, Ri walks up to me again, "Mama eat." I open my mouth. "Mama, book raakho", he says with authority. This time I lose endurance. "Ri, Roran needs to get healed", I say...erm... quite sternly looking straight into his eyes.

Ri is now upset; really upset. He gives me the look. I know that look. The look of 'you are the most terrible mom ever'. The look of 'you suck as a parent'. The look of 'you told me that was a chocolate cake and made me eat boiled carrots instead'

And hence begins the war between supermom and guilt. Supermom starts fighting with weapons like me time compromise and just one afternoon. All in vain. Guilt starts gaining power. It slowly draws its sword and slashes supermom right across the face with the swiftness of an elf thereby ending the duel.

I sigh; I give up. Roran can get healed later. I keep the book aside and say with all the excitement and energy that I can muster up, "alright Ri, let's make some cheese pasta in your microwave." Ri smiles.

We start playing and spend the rest of the afternoon baking lego cheese pasta. Ri is super happy; I am... well happy; Eragon isn't; Roran isn't. But that's okay I guess. The unhappy ones can wait till tonight. (Hoping that Ri sleeps early; he normally is his energetic best on nights when I have reading plans).

PS. To all those people who call me a slow reader; it's really not my fault. :(


This post has been crossposted here.


  1. Ask him to build something really complicated. Those figurines that come on the sheet with the Lego boxes are really helpful.

  2. Ah ha! The duties of and the guilt pangs and the spaces of a Supermomhood. Believe me it does not end with school finals or their marriages. Wonderfully written.Brief and to the point. You've got style Mom.

  3. one of my favouritest posts of yours...


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