Wrong but feels right…

Off late I have been doing things that are not right but don’t feel wrong. And this fight between the wrong and the right often leaves me confused. Most of it is to do with me being a mommy and to do or not to do is sometimes really not in my hands. Yes, I let my kids blackmail me into doing things I don’t want to and shouldn’t be doing but find it hard to put my foot down. There, I said it!!

Can’t say I am proud in this admittance but am not ashamed either! Yes, I spoil them, let them take advantage of the fact that I love them and occasionally, turn a blind eye to their blunders and on not so rare instances, I also let them escape a punishment well deserved.

Some of my misdeeds need a special mention as they smell of a strong disapproval from the “parenting authorities”!!! Like what?

Like when my toddler refuses to be fed and her six year old sister begs for the same. The solution – I let the toddler dirty herself and the dining table and eat whatever she can while I hand feed (or spoon feed, depending on what’s in the plate) her elder sister who is not embarrassed to be seen gulping down food at the hands of her mother.

Like when my kids fight. They love each other to death but on any given day they can be heard screaming, biting, hitting and running for their dear life to save themselves from the other about a million times. I interfere or let them figure it out themselves depending on how occupied I am at that moment. If I am talking on the phone I conveniently go deaf to ear piercing fake screams of “Heeeeellllllpppp” and if I am doing nothing, I call for an instant silence and quickly pronounce a “time-out” for the guilty party.

Like how I usually encourage my kids to ask questions and patiently try and answer all of them ranging from stupid (why can’t I drive your car?) to downright irritating (why is the blood running in our body?). BUT if they find a visibly wrong day to ask all the questions one after the other in quick succession, a day I happen to be pissed about something or not happy about my life, they get the “No more Whys” look and a curt answer that signals an end to that conversation, not that they are good at taking hints!

Like when it comes to discipline and things that kids are and are not allowed to do, me and the Dad are always in unison and on the same page. “Always”…if you don’t count this afternoon when I ignored the squeals of delight as the girls jumped on the living room couch, a feat strictly forbidden otherwise by their Daddy.  

Like the time and effort me and my husband took to ensure the kids slept in their own rooms after they turned three. It took about 4 months with the first child to accomplish that and with the second baby, the process just began. And yet, they are both in our room, on our bed on Fridays nights, spring break, their birthdays, our birthdays and anniversaries, sick days, first day of school, last day of school, Christmas, Diwali, New year and well, I am already losing count.

I should be mad, considering how many sleepless nights went into establishing this one routine of sleeping in different rooms. But instead, when they come, with their pillow pets and pink blankets, there is somehow enough room on one queen bed to accommodate all of us together and I sleep more soundly than the kiddos, snuggling up to their soft touch and tender breaths.