This time around, a younger woman with feathers ruffled. Ha! What an understatement! I feel like one of those fighter cocks with their plumes looking as though someone planted a bomb in them. It's just one of those days, when even if you don't have PMS, everyone around looks sympathetically at you thinking,"Must be PMS!"
If you have ever seen "The Shark Tale", you will know what I mean, when I say that I feel kind of like Sykes, the puffer fish character in the movie. One minute, you are like this:
And the next, "BOOM!" and you are like this:
The person behind the puffer fish is what my husband Shrikant looks like when my spines are sticking out!
Just last night, I was reveling in motherhood, thinking how great it is. All my love was directed to the two apples of my eye. Shrikant was the best husband in the whole world. Then the night passed, somehow, with fits of sleep, making do with whatever little space was available on the bed, since everyone decided to crawl onto it like a Churchgate-Virar local, and amazed that inspite of the crying, the lights turned on and everything, everyone slept so sound! Look at me, Sayalee just has to shift in her seat and I am up like a rooster!
It is 2.00 a.m., and I am done feeding, burping, rocking, washing, sterilizing, and scooping the poopy. Ah! Done. Blessed sleep. Barely have I adjusted my bottom to ache a little less on the bed, and once again it's time to feed, burp, rock, wash, sterilize and scoop up some more poopy! Come morning and I am up in arms against just about everyone saying anything to me. Suddenly the children are annoying, the husband is annoying and others... let's not mention it.
This phase doesn't last though. Especially now, since I have started cooking again. I had forgotten how therapeutic cooking can be. It allows you to take your mind off the mundane things and focus, for a little while on something else. I am going to bargain for some two hours on Monday. I am planning to go for a movie. Alone. I might watch English Vinglish. Hopefully, it will give me some space and some inspiration. And save my sanity a little.
If you have ever seen "The Shark Tale", you will know what I mean, when I say that I feel kind of like Sykes, the puffer fish character in the movie. One minute, you are like this:
And the next, "BOOM!" and you are like this:
The person behind the puffer fish is what my husband Shrikant looks like when my spines are sticking out!
Just last night, I was reveling in motherhood, thinking how great it is. All my love was directed to the two apples of my eye. Shrikant was the best husband in the whole world. Then the night passed, somehow, with fits of sleep, making do with whatever little space was available on the bed, since everyone decided to crawl onto it like a Churchgate-Virar local, and amazed that inspite of the crying, the lights turned on and everything, everyone slept so sound! Look at me, Sayalee just has to shift in her seat and I am up like a rooster!
It is 2.00 a.m., and I am done feeding, burping, rocking, washing, sterilizing, and scooping the poopy. Ah! Done. Blessed sleep. Barely have I adjusted my bottom to ache a little less on the bed, and once again it's time to feed, burp, rock, wash, sterilize and scoop up some more poopy! Come morning and I am up in arms against just about everyone saying anything to me. Suddenly the children are annoying, the husband is annoying and others... let's not mention it.
This phase doesn't last though. Especially now, since I have started cooking again. I had forgotten how therapeutic cooking can be. It allows you to take your mind off the mundane things and focus, for a little while on something else. I am going to bargain for some two hours on Monday. I am planning to go for a movie. Alone. I might watch English Vinglish. Hopefully, it will give me some space and some inspiration. And save my sanity a little.
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