A page from the mother's diary:
Good morning honey!! Coffee for you.
I got a coffee in bed. What day is it? Taking the steaming coffee mug from his hand, I walked past my husband to the living area. Nothing poked my feet, no Lego pieces, no crayons, no fluffy toys on my way.
The house looked clean, organized, and unbelievably peaceful.
What is happening? How come no doors slammed, feet stomped yet. I waited a while to hear a hostile sound piercing my ear drums “I hate you!" “He touched my toys." Instead, serenity and calmness welcomed me.
How strange! No one cried. No one hit. No one got hurt. How it is that possible? I rushed to my kids' room, holding my breath to survey the damage done, but there was none.
They were hugging, laughing, and playing together. What happened, how come they stopped hating each other?
“Good morning mama! I finished my breakfast and now I' m going to play. I will take a shower after a while and then study.” In a state of shock, I tried processing what my older one just said.
Anxiously, I walked to the dining area, where my husband was sitting with a book in one hand and a coffee in the other, while enjoying the breakfast. In an awe moment, I pulled the chair and finished my breakfast in one go.
No one had pulled my hands. I can’t believe, how I haven’t got the opportunity to be the referee and settle the fights yet. How come I get to finish my coffee in one go?
My head started rattling to grasp, what’s happening? My surroundings look surreal.
What world am I in? Is this any other world existing, where parents also get to do nice things? Can someone pinch me, am I dreaming?
"Hey! What happened, why are you sleeping on the floor?" I heard a voice pulling me out of this wonderland. What else could it be other than a dream.
And I came back to my reality.
After years of hard work, I came up to a point where I ticked most of the items on my checklist. Got my dream job (worked like crazy), dream house (offloaded a hefty amount), and a perfect partner (after kissing several frogs). Now I was all set to enjoy what I earned over the years.
Life was just right.
And then we saw this tiny heavenly cute creature wrapped up in a fluffy, soft towel on TV and suddenly we started seeing it everywhere. Friends, colleagues, relatives, and family, wherever we go have the same question, “when are you planning?"
Initially we ignored, laughed out loud, or rubbed off the topic, but slowly 'why not have a baby' idea started making its way in our head.
And there we are, with our three lovely kids. First, we had one and then another two, just to give company to the previous ones.
Now, I looked at my image in the mirror. I refused to recognize the disheveled, exhausted woman, wearing shabby, soiled clothes. Tangled hair flowing in all direction. Eye bag big enough to hold diapers in it.
And the credit goes to my bundle of joy, one of them who sleeps the whole day long, as long as I'm up in her service. But the moment she gets to know that I have put my rear down to rest, she gets restless. A mind-numbing screech slams my ear drums, taking away my hearing capability, thinking capability, or any capability I have.
And as the day goes by, all I hear is shouting, crying, earsplitting noise, and fights.
Indeed, a time comes when I want some sound coming. No sound coming, signifies danger!! and then I rush, rush to survey the damage done.
Last night nothing new happened, I got up when my elder one screamed because in his dream a monster took away his red car, and I had to calm him down for an hour. And then my youngest one decided to puke on my face after crying hard for a solid hour.
I walked like a zombie wiping up the mess and getting the taste of half-digested banana wiped in with my child's mucus out of my mouth. I rubbed myself under shower while my mind craved for a warm cozy bed, where I could sleep for few hours at a stretch.
The next thing I remember, is the banging door. It pulled me out to half of my senses. It’s six in the morning. My baby sitter must have given up on ringing the doorbell and before she gave up on waiting. I need to rush, or I have to end up begging and cajoling her to come back. I dragged myself out of bed, with my half-closed eyes, and a weeping toddler in one arm. I walked past my corridor to open that banging door to let my babysitter in.
I couldn't handover my howling baby to my dear husband because he worked late at night and he wanted to get some sleep to function properly. He could sleep, but the day, I decided to be a mom, I packed my sleep and courier it to another planet.
“Hey! I don’t need to sleep. I’ am a mommy now. I got cutie pies. I don’t need anything else."
Handing over my howling baby to the babysitter, I slumped to the ground. The floor seemed inviting enough to give me a warm embrace to sleep on and also offered a wonderful dreamland.
While on the evening walk in the real world, I, young lady said, “You have such a cute kid!!”
I replied, "Yes, it's no trouble, fits right in my bag."
"Do you want one?"