These days, I return home around 8pm (which is rather early) compared to the 9pm entry I was making until last year. I leave a little late in the mornings, making sure that the kids get into their school van and then leaving for work. I eventually reach office around 10am or later. which means, that after 9 hours, I leave around 7pm or later. So 8pm it is, when the kids expect me back home.
The minute I enter, the kids rush up to me. No no, they don’t rush up for a hug or kiss. More likely, they’ve been fighting over something and I have to make a judgement RIGHT NOW! I hold them up for a while and politely ask them to give me a few minutes to at least freshen up. “Okay, aap paanch minute mein fresh ho jao”, Shobby magnanimously permits. So I quickly wash up and head to the kitchen, where the MIL (Bless her) keeps tea ready for me, everyday :).
“No no Mummy. No tea”, both the kids yell at me. “Why not?!” I’m appalled. My cup of tea is my savior…to get me through the rest of the evening.
“okay, tea piyo, but no reading paper”, he pouts.
“Alright”, I resign to my fate. At least I’m allowed to have my cuppa.
The kids continue their bickering and fighting for every piece of toy that lays strewn across the house. I don’t pay heed. The picking up can be done later. Once tea is over, I have to practically threaten the kids with dire consequences if they don’t have their dinner ASAP. Shobby obliges, Lui doesn’t 🙄 . Much running after, the kids are fed. We quickly get our school bags out and check for the day’s homework.
The one thing that I’ll eternally be grateful to Allah for, is that my kids love doing their homework. They love their number writing or coloring or sticking pictures. The only trouble I have is to restrict them to the page they have to fill. Left on their own, they would cover all the pages with their scribbles and proudly display them for our compliments.
Homework over, we have some time for playing, mock-wrestling or pillow-fights 🙂 . Around 10pm, I start prepping them for sleep time. Last visit to the toilet is followed by cups of milk, narrating stories and then goodnight prayers. The lights are turned off and I stop replying to their umpteen queries. The idea is, they should take the hint that their mom is asleep and they should drop off too. Usually, I’m the one who actually starts snoring and the kids start playing in the dark. Their father comes in around 10:30 pm and the kids are up and perky in seconds. What follows is some serious father-children bonding time where I don’t come into the picture at all (since I’m busy snoring).
The kids are hyperactive (MashaAllah) and minding them for a few minutes is a trying activity. Sometimes, they are in good behavior mode and don’t run around much. But there are other times, when I’m left gasping in their wake, unsure whether to catch Lui before she upturns the box of cornflakes on the floor or run after Shobby, who is perched precariously at the edge of the window sill. Obviously, both are at separate ends of the room :|.
And this is the reason why, when I get up each morning, I look at their sleeping forms and wonder, for the umpteenth time, what if I had them earlier??
I never thought I would feel this way, but as the days pass by and I feel more and more exhausted by the time I come back home, I wonder if it was wise to have kids so late in life? Frankly speaking, we had the kids as soon as possible after our marriage, but the point is, we married late. I’m least ambitious where career is concerned, so that was never a problem. Its just that favorable circumstances for marriage came our way pretty late. I know it isn’t late late, but its late enough for me to regret it. I’m not as active and healthy as I used to be. I want to run around with the kids in the park without resembling an asthma patient with a severe attack. I hate to give up midway in some of our games at home because I’m too tired for the action. I’m annoyed with myself because a pillow fight with hardly 2-3 hits from me makes me feel as though my arms cant take the pillow weight any more 😦
These are the twin’s beginning years….there are many more to go. I had planned on teaching them badminton and playing matches with them. It seems like a distant dream now. I wanted to be a part of every new sport or game that they learn, but lately, thoughts of pulling out seems very appealing.I never wanted to be a mother who sits on the side lines and watches her kids play. I always wanted to be the mom who was right there on the field with the kids, dunking a ball through the basket even as they tower over her 😐 .
The twins and I have a neat 30 year gap between us. It didn’t seem to matter much when I had them. But when I look back now, I wonder why I delayed so much 😦 . I have friends who got married early and had kids early. They are the same age as me, but don’t have to run after their children anymore. That phase was over for my friends when they were still in their early 20’s. Most of them have kids who are teenagers now! I think I can handle teenagers in my present age. To think of handling my kids 10 years down the line petrifies me 😐
The only thing that keeps me from toppling over the cliff of morosity is that, if I had kids before, they wouldn’t have been Lui and Shobbs. Though mine, they would have been any other children (I cant even imagine faces for them), but not my twins. And to think of a life without Lui and Shobbs is…is …impossible! I’m addicted to my kids and though my knees creak after a couple of minutes of playing horse-horse, I’d rather have this than prance around lithely with unknown children 😐
What can I say now? As usual, motherhood never comes easy….early or late 😐