Diary of a Stay-at-home Mother-of-Two Little Women

Dr. Elsa Lycias Joel

One day I decided to keep aside so many things that mattered a lot to me. This is no small step for me, a free-spirited woman. Somehow I was made to believe that I’m ‘Born Free’ because it was from Joy Adamson’s that my father picked my name. Playing TT with senior boys, handful of extracurricular activities, NCC camps, rough and tough cousins, stint with a National daily- all these and more convinced me I was self made to go far and wide. Two little girls changed my course of life. Today I’m a humble stay-at-home mother. Turning back the clock I remember…

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My little girl was not into sharing, a zealous guardian of her toys and games, stuffed animals and lots more, which of course she never played with. But when another child showed an interest, my darling snatched it away. I used to wonder if I should browbeat her into civility. Very often, I did not. But I worriedly visualized her as a selfish little one. Deep inside I felt she should be sent to a Christian school, though I believe secularism, tolerance and virtues of all religions. Call me a hypocrite! Finally I sent her to a play school because I liked the name of the school ‘sun shine’. And of course Lauren loved it there for the toys and snack hour. I filled her snack box with healthy stuff she hated and forced her into giving and taking thereby mutating genes. Or a fixation of a selfless gene!  Today, I’m so proud to know that she is called the kindest in her class, a just and selfless human in her play group and a rascal among bullies.

Lauren, then 5, was no shrinking violet. I remember that evening at the park I let her handle things for herself. As I pretended to ignore her she just pushed away the brat who always gave her a tough time. I called out to her when that brat fell down. With a cherubic smile she poked him with her toe just to let him know what was on her mind. I shuddered. But in this world where the powerful and crooked love to bang into people and knock their molars loose, my little one learnt to strike back if not stay away. And I didn’t intimidate her.

During story time Lauren did all the talking. An occasional low murmur is all she expected from me. When I tried reading out children’s stories to her, she interrupted saying,” I know this story. Animals and trees never talk. They can’t”. This certainly interested me and I thanked God for this merry little soul who was and is a natural raconteur always good for a couple of laughs. Making up new stories everyday was tough but today I’m an author. ‘Perfect Endings’ for children was a result of Lauren’s complaint “I know this story”.

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However what I believe is this: if she tells a story, she is the best storyteller. If she paints, she is a painter. No gallery or critic needs to sanction her.

Few years down the line, another ‘bundle of love’ arrived and Lauren adored her little sister Barbara. Though my responsibilities doubled and I lost sleep over two tiny tots, I saw Lauren evolving to act mommy.

‘Food time’ that always seemed to be a ‘not so good’ tussle turned into a fun cand playing. So, just to make the little sister eat, Lauren tuned herself to eat all that I called healthy. Over years, my daughters’ taste buds not only got used to my recipes but the fact that nothing satisfies their hunger as much as my food does make me proud.

When both of them were in the right mood, I coerced them into believing that love can change almost anything for good. They believed that love is a boomerang and took it in their own style just right for their age. So beautiful was their transformation, from toddlers to girls with ideas taking different shapes on strong foundations I laid. To them, as of now, love is peace. My girls are becoming known as the best peacemakers in their small circle.

I hate liars especially ones who know the art better than I do. For so long I thought my girls never knew what a ‘lie’ was. If I have brought up two benevolent liars, then this world would definitely be a better place for them. Benevolent lies can also be ‘channels of peace’.

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Remember, the mutation and fixation mentioned in the second paragraph. My children are still hell bent on convincing me that if we love someone they should be made happy even if our happiness is or isn’t closely tied to theirs. When they played games, they were willing to lose to benefit their friends, to avoid a quarrel or make them happy. Trying to figure out if this attribute would help them in the future I still chew down my nails.

Much alike other kinds, my girls loved to shop. Not just for them but for their playmates too. Then, with a shallow pocket, it was really tough to fight back my urge to take up a job.

Just as my mother points out the trees I had climbed and the hedgerows where I had gathered wild flowers as a child, I remind my girls of their favorite places, people and things. When they respond appropriately, I know I’m playing the role of a mother very well. 

Whenever we went for stroll, I yearned for the Venti- Boreas, Notos, Eurus and Zephyr. The winds ballooning their frocks out and whipping their hair into tangles was a wonderful sight I loved to watch with equal joy. 

And as my angels make new friends, I take it on me to remind them of their first friendship and cherish old friends and memories. An indulgent mom! I’ll do it knowing that someday, somewhere my girls would learn to make time for friends, trust and rely on them and as grey haired women gather with all their friends and stockpiled memories.   

As the years go by, my daughters might get busy with teen-age concerns I wish and pray they prefer outings, reading and writing, music and dance and yoga and meditation to cocktail parties, dating, boyfriends and dance floors. Just as dance floors collapse and pubs burn down, life and family too will, if we parents appreciate the western influence, which I view as a cultural shock, a tragedy and a comedy. Should we let go our dearest sons and daughters knowing well the repercussions?

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As a three year old Barbara used to go around the house searching for her dad. The idea that papa is out to make money to feed and clothe them doesn’t go well with them. In the process of letting them know the reason behind papa’s unavailability I learnt my valuable lesson that for a company or a firm, I’m just a worker but to them I’m an idol, sometimes god. I promised myself that my prime job should be to pay attention to every little detail of theirs and be available till they spread their wings and fly away.

It’s not long ago when my girls believed that kiss helped wounds heal faster. I’ve got something most other working women miss out as parents. If I wish to, I know I can make money. If I don’t get to visit another country in the next ten years, I hope there is always another chance. But these few precious years will swiftly go by. No titles can replace the times when my daughters hugged me to say, “I love you”. No money can replace the times when they leaned their head on my chest and fell asleep. And I also know that no costly car will boost my ego when they prefer playing Table tennis with me over the coach.

My intuition that I’m not their best keyboard or dance teacher is always right but my children consider me their most special teacher because they enjoy learning with me than with anybody else.

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Lauren was a very protective sister too, exactly the way I wanted her to be. For instance, one small boy hassled Barbara quite often in the play area. Lauren was always an angry spectator not sure of how she was supposed to react. One day I asked Lauren, “Can you take him?” she smiled. The very next evening Lauren gave him an idea of how protective she was as a sister. These days, the sisters complement each other.