Skip to main content

Back to school

My kids are finally back in school after their summer break. Well, my daughter has been in preschool all along and just switched from her Summer- complete timepass schedule to “Academic” timepass schedule. She’s 4 and therefore legally allowed to have all the fun in the world.

My son went back to school today as well. 3rd grade and all that cool gangsta life. He was anxious, excited, worried, hyper excited, sleepless, sleepy, OMGexcited about his first day back. We’ve been up since dawn, choosing outfits and eating the world’s slowest breakfast.


So finally the kids are inside their classrooms and I drive home in a dreamlike state. Feeling light as a feather, eyes full of stars and house devoid of kids. For someone who’s always either had a child attached to my hip/boob or following me all the time for the past 8 years, this is such a pleasant change. I’m feeling adventurous. Damn, do I actually get to sit down and drink coffee like a human being rather than chase kids and reheat the mug a few dozen times? Wow, I’m living the life aren’t I?


I spend a lazy morning, pottering around - cooking, singing (badly), writing. I rediscover the joys of having a full five minutes in the bathroom without small hands banging on the door. I even put on a shiny dress, knowing fully well, I’ll regret it come laundry day. The AC is on, Siri is belting out some sweet tunes and the smell of Paneer Butter Masala is making me feel positively giddy.

I sit down to eat a nice, quiet lunch by myself - I even read a few pages of the new Stephen King novel. The house has settled nicely after making its usual comforting creaking noises. It's peaceful and quiet. Mmmm.

Quiet.

So quiet.

SO QUIET!


TOO quiet!

Radio silence from Siri because my phone has run out of charge. The house is silent too, possibly taking a much-deserved nap. My plate has been licked clean (shut up), I’ve already consumed an extra glass of juice and feeling slightly bloated I change into yoga pants and do some laundry.

A busy 10 minutes later, the washing machine is humming, the dishwasher is gurgling and I’m fighting a fresh wave of loneliness. I try to write and the words don’t sound good. I try to dictate notes and my voice sounds like I have a head cold. I click around on Facebook but it looks like everyone else is asleep.

Then I suddenly get this bizarre urge to watch Peppa Pig on repeat.

So I do that. Watch Peppa for a whole hour. ONE WHOLE HOUR!

Then my phone alarm buzzes. I get this happy lilt in my heart as I get up. I brush my hair and put on some lipstick. Change into my pretty dress again.

And as I rush to school to pick up the kids, I try to stop this big, stupid smile from spreading all over my face. I come across a fellow mom in the school parking lot.

“Wow, Pavi, first day, huh! I had so much free time suddenly. I missed this re! Thank God, school started right?”

And I nodded eagerly, fingers crossed behind my back.

Thank God indeed.





Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Do Mice wear shoes?

The woman hitched up her skirt and continued kneading the dough. Her kids ran around, chasing each other in a quiet pantomime of the real game. They knew too well about bruises and broken bones - presents from their father if they were too loud. The woman cast a sour glance at her husband, asleep in the corner of their shack, his skinny chicken legs peeking out from under his discolored Long Johns.   Outside, the snowstorm raged on, driving the sky to an ugly gray color.   Rather like one of my bruises, the woman thought, with a little flash of anger. She rubbed the small of her   back (which still hadn’t recovered from the “rearrangement” her husband had done two winters ago).   “Mama Mama”, a little voice squeaked next to her.   “Da, my little p rintsessa ?” “Do mice wear shoes?”   The woman didn’t know what to make of that. Mice? In this Russian winter? Her first thought was the beating her husband would give her if he noticed any holes in his sweaters. Ivan di

Girls and Boys and all that noise!

In a curious case of reverse gender inequality, someone asked this question recently. Why is it considered acceptable to say “we want a baby girl”, or even “gender doesn’t matter”. If one wants a baby boy, is it still taboo to express that?

Sssssh!

I have always been a wuss around creepy crawlies. Insects of all manner and snakes. Big problem for me. In fact, as a teenager in Mumbai, I often walked past snake charmers and their kind - mostly on Railway bridges and near temples. I took a wide detour every time I spotted a scaly head bobbing outside that wicker basket. To overcome my fear, I befriended a few of the snake charmers and much to my dismay, one of them invited me to touch her snake. I didn’t want to seem stupid. One shaky finger on the reptile and I promptly regretted everything. From then on, I have been a vocal opponent of all things slithering and I have often been accused of being rather a bore on the subject. The other night, I had finished watching a rather gory episode of the Walking Dead. Gut and brains everywhere and much bashing of zombie heads. Usually I sleep like a fat baby after my nightly zombie dose, but that night I had this intense nightmare. (You know how dreams are trippy? One minute you’re fli