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Mother, writer and daydreamer. Also chocoholic and chick-flick lover. But mainly mommy. To two boys, at that! When not escorting my Elder One (EO) to karate class, I'm trying to get in as many cuddles as possible from my Younger One (YO). And when not doing either, I'm hard-at-work trying to maintain a steady relationship with my laptop. And as for the Man I Married (MIM), well, let’s just put it this way – even though we share a bedroom, our most meaningful conversations are held over the cell-phone!

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Today was not...

...the EO's day. He wasn't allowed to have his tiffin (small break as well as big break) because he didn't finish his classwork. Add to that his Mamma's disappointment when she finds out and marches his tiny little butt back to class and quickly makes him copy down what on the board (i.e. she scribbles it hastily in the back of his book because she knows that left to him, they'd be there till the bell rang for school next morning!!). Add to that Mamma's frustration upon learning that he lost his eraser...the third so far...this week! Add to that his discovery that his diary had been taken home by the boy who sits nest to him in class.

All the way home, he encounters Mamma's stony silence.

He looks forward to his much-loved cricket class and gets ready with great enthu. Mamma and younger brother drop him off and come to pick him up, ten minutes early.

EO is mortified that they arrive just in time to see him being punished...standing on the side of the 'field' holding his ears while the other boys practise their bowling techniques.

Mamma, (having been informed by the Nephew that he was 'punished' in a similar manner during the last cricket class as well) is at first shocked and then angry. Angry that she is paying good money to have someone else punish her son when she is perfectly capable herself.

Then Mamma mellows. Her heart begins to melt as she sees the small figure of her little boy, standing there, pulling at his own ears, while trying to scratch a knee with foot as he's prime mosquito bait, standing there instead of running about.

So on the way back, Mamma decides to stop at the new patisserie to buy some sinfully delicious and rich chocolate Mud Slices to cheer them up. (let's not dwell on the fact that Mamma had been craving these herself ever since she came to know of their existence). When EO sees Mamma getting into the car with tell-tale box, his heart shines through in his smile.

By the time the pj's are on her EO, Mamma's heart has become a gooey replica of the warm centre of the Mud Slice. She decides to give EO a treat.

She takes out a hand-made paper notebook. Five years ago, Mamma had started writing stories about her EO and Nephew. It has gone the way of many of Mamma's literary aspirations and is lying incomplete in a drawer with many others of its kind.

Mamma decides to read out the first half of chapter one. She then kisses EO good-night and walks out of the room.

She is called back to the room by a sobbing EO, who grabs her and hugs her in a tight bear-hug and refuses to let her go.

My poor child. The whole day his heart was on the verge of breaking thanks to one thing going wrong after another. Who knew that he would be overwhelmed enough by an unfinished story that his Mamma wrote about him five years ago.

Maybe this blog is not being written in vain after all...I don't know, I can only hope and pray.

One thing I do know for sure is that there's this story that needs to be completed...

11 comments:

Mystic Margarita said...

Awwwwww....this is beautiful moment beautifully captured the way only you can.

R's Mom said...

Amazing post..made me feel all gooey inside myself :)

richajn said...

hugs to the EO.

all too often, in our crazy rush, we tend to forget that the little mites are also little people, with their own ideas and wants and feelings.

Monika said...

Awwww......M4, You write magically. When I cry at so many of your posts, including this one, EO is all heart & no wonder he cried.
(Hugs to EO)

Poppins said...

Ok I'm angry too - why was he not allowed to eat his food because he didn't finish classwork - exactly what was that supposed to teach him? How will that help his classwork?

And my husband runs a coaching class in Tennis for kids (typically boys) between 6-12 and he says it is hard to deal with their distraction etc. But you know what his 'punishment' is? Hitting 50-100 balls at the wall till they get the strokes right - basically more of what they come to learn in the first place. How will holding his ears improve his cricket?

Strange are the ways of the world.
My heart broke when he cried :(

Mama - Mia said...

awwwwwwwwww!!!! hugs to both of you!

and yeah! agree with Poppy. whats with not letting a kid eat? bah!

Mamma mia! Me a mamma? said...

@ Mystic: Thank you girl. Now where is that mail you promised?

@ R's mom: 'Gooey' is good :)

@ richajn: I agree...we really need to stop, look and listen.

@ Mon, Ansh: Thank you sweetheart. You know, his sensitivity really scares me at times...

@ Poppy: The EO's school was a famed, Anglo-Indian bastion of disciplne, where boys used to be caned (the MIM and BIL have quite a few tales to tell). At least that's stopped. And you know, they say deprivation is the best form of punishment for a child, so I'd rather it's this than him getting caned. I personally felt that not letting him eat both times round was harsh. And the best form of punishment? Don't let them go out during break! Make them sit and do the work then, right...
And your hubby's form of 'punishment' is perfect. I thought that was the norm in a sports class. Looks like I was wrong :-(
My heart broke too...

@ Namesake: Thank you for the hugs, sweetie. Much needed...

Sue said...

Poor kid. The cake was a good idea. It doesn't take much, does it, to turn a day around?

The Ketchup Girl said...

oh thats terrible m4...v v harsh. now this is really upsetting. the poor child! tell him kg mashi will get hom a big box of chocolates. poo poo child.

Unknown said...

The first half of the post could have been written for Krish. And the second half, no, this mean mommie doesnt get pastries or read out stories, she administers whacks and then sobs herself to sleep....And wipes the brat's sleeping face clean and plants a kiss on it.

Mamma mia! Me a mamma? said...

@ Sue: Absolutely...but I've usually found that a piece of good, gooey cake can always make the difference between a sad day and a good day.

@ KG: Ki aar bolbo? And by getting him a box of chocolates, you mean me, right? ;-p

@ Karmic: No, no. That's not you. You're Super Hottie Momma, mom to Super Brat, mommy whom I idolise... Nope. That's not you.