Archive for March 1st, 2010

Yes indeed. Pray tell me, how does one divide love?

What makes people come upto a mother and say that her love gets divided between her children?

We had a new nanny who came yesterday (she’s the third one since last week. Don’t even ask me what’s going on with the nanny problem. Will write a separate post on it someday!!) and the first thing she said after finding out about the twins, was , “Oh good. No need for another pregnancy. Its easier to divide love between two children now”.

Had me stumped. Absolutely. Actually, this wasn’t the first time I’ve heard this phrase. Many people used to wonder how my mom could divide her love between four children and it always used to amuse me then.

Not so now.

I want to know, seriously, how does “love” get divided?

Is there a fixed quota of love that everyone owns? Say ‘X’ amount.

So, if you have 2 kids, you give them both ‘X/2’ amount of love. If you have 3, then its ‘X/3’ and so on.

What if a woman’s quota of love is equal to the number of kids she has? In that case, it would be ‘X/X’, or ‘1’. What is this ‘1’ ? What measure is it?? How do you define it?

Time, I agree , can be divided between kids. Even attention. But not love. A woman loves all her kids the same. I will not use the word ‘equally’ here, because then it would again mean quantifying it, and in turn diminishing its value. A woman loves one child just as much as the next and her love multiplies with the number of children she has, not the other way round!!

On the same note, how can anyone, anyone ever ask a mother which child she loves the most? Which is her favourite!  Does one have a favourite among one’s eyes, or ears? Do you like your left arm better than the right?

I feel like being rude like a knife and slash out at people who ask me blatantly which one of the twins is my favourite!! Its worse when other women, who have kids of their own, say this!! I can only shudder in disbelief and pity those poor souls who are not the recipients of the ‘favourite’ tag.

I’ve been getting new insights into the motherhood scene everyday now!! Some clichés make me wince, some make me laugh. And some make me boil with rage.

And once again, I reiterate, its not easy being a mom!!

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Of time well spent……..

The BF’s been suffering a sore throat for the last few days. It is so bad that he can barely talk. Which isn’t much of a difference in my routine, because he hardly speaks much anyway (and then I have to cover up for him and then get  branded a blabber-mouth) !!

Apart from guzzling warm water the whole day (warmed by your’s truly, else he’d rather suffer dehydration than warm a little water for himself) and mooning around the house a bit for the last 2 days, there hasn’t been much activity from his side.

And that’s what galvanized him to finally get some work done yesterday. So he bought a large rickety iron shelf (the kinds found in book stores and libraries) from a kind neighbour, bought some sandpaper, a can of paint and brush and set himself busy scraping the old paint off. Tough work indeed. And since the benign wife so loves painting, she volunteered to help him paint that thing (What?? you expect me to put up a picture of that monstrosity?? No way!!)

Anyhow, we worked in companionable silence throughout, not uttering anything other than the occasional, “pass me the thinner” or “does this look ok?”

And I realized, that after a very long time, we were spending time together doing something totally mundane and useless, yet enjoying it for the time it gave us . The shelf is an eye-sore, I agree, but it was fun doing it. Fun standing by and appreciating each other’s art, criticizing the missed niches , reprimanding for spilled paint and generally trying to achieve one-upmanship over the other. The shelf needs a second coat and he’ll be doing the honours  today (He’s taken an off coz he’s ill. And I don’t have an off for Holi 😦  ).

Oh well, I miss it already. Sitting here in office, I can’t help but feel that I’d be much happier back home, standing next to him, wielding that brush and inflicting my master strokes on that white elephant while the BF looks on indulgently.


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