It’s Happy Birthday to us !!
It’s Happy Birthday to us !!
It was love at first sight; Continue reading
If not today, then maybe I never will tell you, that,
You’re My SuperHero!!
I have never told you so,
But then, My untold thoughts you always knew;
With each second that passes by,
I fall in love with the twinkle in your eye;
Once, I was busy chasing dreams,
Until one fine morning you fell in my arms like a dream;
If not for that morning,
I would have still been lying in the Ocean of Blues, chasing;
Here lay a Baby Boy in my lap,
Where once empty prayers and desperate cries lived;
I lost myself the moment I touched you,
I lost myself to you;
You were the newborn Superman,
Who gave birth to lovely mother in me;
I was just existing,
The moment you cried into my soul, I started living;
That little angel rolled up in a white cloth,
Is my dear Son, saying i beamed with pride;
As I held you close and got the heavenly glimpse of those glorious eyes,
I felt the stinging love, the love that makes pain a pleasure;
The world at my feet,
For I have the Tiny Gentleman’s strength in my Heart;
Then I gently shed that precious tear,
When I knew i was the most blessed Mother;
This is the best memory of my life,
second best to, kissing my Dad at death;
Each morning, I promise to kiss you,
A million heartfelt, I LOVE Yous;
Each night, I will close my eyes with you by my side,
For What-if tomorrow, I don’t make it to forever with you;
A Little Boy’s Amma.
It all boiled down to that moment, that discussion with that person.
Who gladly was a self proclaimed judge in his own terms and was furious of my ‘selfish’ act of wanting to enrol Baby Ved in a Daycare.
He also uninvitingly reminded me on how blessed I should be to become a mother and unpleasantly advised me on Parenting my Son, whom I gave birth to.
He also intimidatingly cautioned me to value my ‘Job’ less than my ‘Son’. Meaning ‘quit’ the Job.
Seriously, you think, the heights of you’re love towards your children is not measured on the date & time you put them in Daycare houses.
How many of us have parents who are ill and old and unable to manage a hyperactive toddler.
Every mother that I have spoken to at work have given me immense faith and hope and confidence in raising up my child the way I want, which is without a doubt the best way.
We have shared opinions, thoughts, inspired each other, encouraged each other, motivated each other and some days I feel those working moms were the only reason that I did not give up on my career.
Those fragile but brave single moms, whose support systems have all gone for a toss, they are the heroes for me. The battles they face, having to do the balancing act is beyond me.
Not the one, who easily gives me an option to quit.
When I decided to leave my Son at Daycare (Yes I decided. Baby Ved’s dad left that toughest task gracefully to me) I did it with a lot of planning.
Not once did I feel guilty throughout the process. Not Once. Not one single time.
If guilt, of all is said to be an emotion for leaving your child alone, then I had that damn guilt from the day I started working after my maternity leave. when Baby Ved was all of just 5.5 months tiny baby.
Coming from a family of Woman, who worked their way out to make a living, who not just stood by their own legs, but thoughts and opinions, I did not feel the ‘Odd one out’ syndrome when I continued work after maternity leave.
After all that’s what every humble family does throughout the world.
That’s what every dad prays for his daughter, when he provided education.
that’s what every mother hopes for her daughter, that she will show the world her greatness.
Sending your child to day care is not a crime, and much more below are few of the wonderful confessions of some of the beautiful working Moms:
Finally, don’t forget yet~ you know what is good for your child, after all it was you who took all the pain.
One day, not very far, your child will walk up to you and thank you for the kind of trust you had in her/him to let go and kiss your hardworking hands in gratitude for all that you provided.
A little boy’s Amma.
Of late, I’ve been asked quite a few times by colleagues and friends alike, on, how much money I make by writing.
Also a few suggestions on how to improve my ‘presence’ in the internet.
On how to grab the attention of potential readers who will visit my page and thereby I can earn a handful.
On how to convert my writing to money.
I was excited in the beginning and thought I should go for it.
but when I give a honest reflection to it, I think I will pay myself only Sweet Nothings;
I don’t even think any one will ever read my blog more than once. Because i don’t write to perfection. I will blame it on my incompetency.
When I dint even knew, I could write articles or blogs, there were 2 situations that helped me discover this;
The death of my Father and the birth of my Son. Which happened back to back, like WW2 Bombings.
I have had quiet a few revelations after the birth of my Son. One of them being writing, followed very closely by insanity 🙂
One day, when Baby Ved reads through this blog, I want him to know that, I wrote this for him. this humble attempt to swim through words and make a record of things happening in his life, are all for him.
One day he will read this to know, there lived a Momma who loved him like she has never loved any one before. A momma with humble beginnings, a Momma with gentle emotions for her little boy.
A momma who wrote for him, A momma who wrote about him, all of her genuine thoughts, for him to believe that, he can be anyone in this world, but for her, He is the world.
Perhaps, if I write for money, I would focus more on the spell checks and grammar and not on the content.
I would be more disturbed by the misplaced nouns and pronouns (whatever they are).
I would lose my sleep over social media bashing on my ignorance on when to use “your and You’re”.
And by giving importance to all this, I would have missed the very essence of setting up this blog ~ ‘my son’.
I don’t want to spend my all so genuine emotions in frantically trying to find the appropriate words to describe them. My simple language is what my baby understands, he has been hearing it from the time he was as small as a mustard seed.
You can never be me. Utterly Shy and pathetic when it comes to the language called English. But then its about writing, it can be any language.
I intend to write more, I urge every mother to write more. Not for making money, but Memories.
The power of writing is with the writer. its not in the grammar, its not in the language, its not with the literature experts. If at all you should have the urge to start something for your Child /Children, then please don’t put away that golden thought.
The call is for the mothers. You never know, who is going to be inspired by the love you have for your kids.
Write for yourself, write for your kids.
They will be grateful to you for those written words of love !!
A little boy’s Amma.