Men are from Mars

It is written in to our genes, I am sure of it. Worrying from dawn to dusk about our children must be an obsessive compulsive behavior that is pre-determined in mothers by genetic factors. How else can I explain biting my cuticles off when my child got on the bike without training wheels for the first time and wobbled her way around the cul-de-sac while my husband stood on the curb cheering for her?

I cannot speak for others but worrying is almost a hobby for me. Some folks knit, read, putter around the garden, write blogs or cook for fun. I worry. If the President ever gives me an executive order to stop worrying for one day, I would be completely lost. What, in all that is holy, am I supposed to do with myself if I can’t worry?

I worry if my kid will miss the school bus when she wakes up 5 minutes later than usual; I worry if she brushes her teeth for 2 minutes like the dentist says; I worry if she gets enough protein when she chooses to not have eggs for breakfast; I worry if she will lose weight when she refuses cookies and sits down with a glass of juice after school; I worry if she will gain weight when she indulges in a candy still left over from last year’s Halloween; I worry if she has trouble making friends when she opts to stay by my side at a party; I worry if she has studied enough for the test next day when she goes to bed at 9.00 pm; I worry if she will get dark circles under her eyes when she stays up to finish a project one night. It is simply exhausting to worry so much.

My husband, on the other hand, is a fatalist and believes that the French “Que sera sera” is the right motto for child rearing. “The child will do what she is supposed to do and what she does do will shape who she will become” and “Let the children make their own mistakes and learn from them” are his favorite responses to my heart-wrenching laments of worry. “Stop worrying” he says as if it is a valve I can shut off at any time. Have you ever heard of anything more illogical? No wonder they say “Men are from Mars.”

Mother's Day reflections

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day.

In honor of this day, it is customary to write and reflect about a Mother’s love, her selfless sacrifices, and the countless little chores she does that almost always go unnoticed and unappreciated. This is the time to draw attention to the innumerable things that a Mother does without any expectation of remuneration.

I do not want to do that. Instead, I want to explore the idea of a perfect Mother through a child's eyes.

Every child deserves and wants:

A mother who can soothe a scratched knee without first yelling ‘Why didn’t you watch where you were going?’

A mother who understands that the child is a separate entity and that he/she doesn’t have to sign up for ballet or vocal lessons to make up for her unrealized childhood dreams.

A mother who understands that it is within the rights of a child to demand to use the Port-a-potty on the way to the grocery store, even though she reminded him/her to use the nice, clean potty at home before leaving for the store.

A mother who can say a little more than ‘Good job. Now why aren't you studying for the next test?’ when the child comes home brimming with excitement and declares that she got a 102% in the latest Math test.

A mother who limits her lectures to under 2 minutes at a time and resists the urge to step up to the pulpit and start preaching at every opportunity.

A mother who understands that a hug and a kiss on a Sunday night can quiet the Monday morning nerves much better than asking “What is there to be worried about? Monday comes and Monday goes.”

I hope I can be everything my kids need me to be, at least for tomorrow.

My mother, I am proud to say, has been so much more than that all her life. Without doubt, she is the best. If I have never said it before, here it goes. Mom, I love you very much.

My mother loves to quote

To make a relevant point in a context, all of us have quoted an expert at some point in our lives. It is generally considered essential, not to say, fashionable to quote on a subject over which you want to claim autonomous authority. The more quotes you can pull out of your arsenal, the more scholarly you look.

Friends, I would like to introduce you to my Mom, the consummate scholar. My sisters and I were raised on quotes. A typical day in our childhood saw astounding quotes like these:

• Eating a spoonful of squished neem leaves with yogurt every morning will cure all of your stomach ailments. If you don't believe me, check last week's 'Kalaimagal' (a homemaker's magazine).
• On a hot sunny day like today, you should be sure to have a lot of yogurt to cool your body....our next door neighbor told me today so you see?
• Massaging warm gingily oil on the scalp twice a week will promote hair growth....your Aunt from Alwarpet told me over the phone yesterday......you should listen to her.
• Soaking your colors and whites separately for 15 minutes before washing is good for the clothes...I heard it from the man on the street corner ironing the clothes..

This is simply a sample of the million quotes she used every day to guide us in the right path of life. If it is not the weekly magazine, neighbor or a distant relative, she would have heard it from the daily TV newsperson, my uncle's maidservant, my aunt's sister-in-law or the dear old lady she met on the bus to the temple. Her ability to quote from a variety of sources is unparalleled.

Not to take away any credit from my father's erudition, he did occasionally quote but his knowledge was very limited to literary works such as Shakespeare and Thomas Gray. Even though he could recite Anthony's speech in Shakespeare's Julius Caesar from heart (during when I stared open-mouthed at him in awe) and quote famous poets, he simply could not compete with my mother's ability to quote on a wide range of issues.

The other day, I found myself telling my daughter "If you don't apply oil and braid your hair every day, you are not going to have any hair left. If you don't believe me, check with your grandmother." I have come full circle, don't you think?

-Meena Sankaran