Tempests, Tantrums and Terrorists

I'm going to come right out and say it. No siree, I will not sugar coat this, not even with fat-free sprinkles. A child at the age of two has the power and ability, I might add, to completely and utterly eviscerate a mother. They have no pity. They take no prisoners. Come to think of it, a two year old toddler is very much like the atom bomb that went off in Hiroshima; small and lethal!

One minute, we're all plodding along, Mr.Sunshine beaming down on us, rainbows in the sky when suddenly, boom, out of nowhere the bomb hits! A ginormous mushroom cloud blocks out the sun and the rainbows cease to exist. The rest, a you well know, is history.

Shabd has an uncanny ability, I tend to think it comes from the musical gene he inherited from his father's side of the family, to hit just the right note. Now this is not a lovely, tra la la - Sound of Music -  note. No. It's a high pitched, the world might as well have come to an end note. The type of note that can incite any well meaning and mostly patient mother to pull her hair out in sheer desperation.

Now, there are two things that are in rather short supply in my home at the moment. The first is hair and the second patience during those high note poor me wolf howling's. The end result I'm afraid is TWO toddlers in the room screaming! And by two, I reluctantly refer to the aforementioned well meaning and mostly patient mother.

Fear not though, for help is at hand, in the form of well-meaning advice from the Lunch Mommies. "Ag man, we all lose our temper. He's just testing his boundaries. Don't worry. Don't be so hard on yourself man! Relax. Now the first step is to breathe!" And what follows is a flurry of tit bits of experience and advice. Followed by the all so famous disclaimer all mothers are guilty of employing (yours truly included); each child is different!

I've come home with some easy strategies that I can adopt immediately. And some introspection that is being asked of me. Sometimes, we need to accept that the child is just the child. And an age old spiritual adage comes to mind; "I am that I am."

Shabd, like all children (cancel universal disclaimer here) has an innate predisposition to be happy and joyful and full of giggles and smiles. He will act up. He will display his frustration and anger and annoyance. He might not have the full communication repertoire required to ensure these emotions come across in a manner that is neat and tidy, but tell me this, have you met many adults that can?

And we've come full circle to that introspection bit that I've circumvented almost this whole blog and incidentally most of my conversation with the Lunch Mummies. How to be less toddler-tempest-like and more mummy-gentle-summer-breeze-like in the face of a full blown cyclone.

I have the ability to centre myself. I have the power to create sunshine and rainbows and calm Shabd down. I also have the endurance to last out a storm, God knows I've had plenty of experience in that department. Only I can do this. Only I can choose to act more mummy and less toddler. And at the risk of sounding all Maya Angelou, the choice lies with me.

Being the realist that I am, I've also formulated plan B. So just in case I do am not so good at exercising my will to remain calm and collected in the face of a toddler tantrum, like all muscles I expect this will take some practice, "Who you gonna call? The Lunch Mommies!" cue Ghostbusters theme song here!

Shabd Turns 2!

Papa and I had decided to follow in the footsteps of my parents and ensure a Birthday was truly a memorable and special day for our child. So we went out and bought that ONE BIG GIFT and the new clothes and ordered the birthday cake and sent out the birthday invitation and packed the bags ready to celebrate.

I'm not sure if Shabd or Papa was more excited over Shabd's birthday present, both being music lovers. Both their eyes danced as their hands lightly fingered the keys of the keyboard Shabd received as his birthday present.

The day was off to a TIGGERIFFIC start, whoo hoo hoo hoo!

La Vanille Crocodile Park was the venue for Shabd's 2nd birthday celebrations. His best friend in the whole wide world came along to celebrate with him. The two of them went tearing down the pathways, screaming at the tops of their voices, "Nayshaaaaaaad! Shaaaaaaabd! Waow!"

We marveled at the crocodiles...some more than others!

We were entertained by the monkeys, the furry brown ones that is!

We learnt about fossils and ammonites and dinosaur bones! Thank you chacha Ravi.

We visited the Insectarium and saw weird and wonderful creepy crawlies.

We saw hundreds of colourful butterflies of all sizes and shapes. And imagined they were alive and we were in a field of flowers surrounded by them.


We saw American alligators. And Malagasy crocodiles.

We learnt that turtles and crocodiles can be friends too. And Koi come in a kaleidoscope of colours.

We met Seychellois GIANT tortoises. Shabd was terribly polite, leaned over and said "Good morning Fabrice. How are you?" Well it's only logical that a Seychellois tortoise would have a French name. And being his mothers son, Shabd tried to move Fabrice along!

The restaurant created our own little celebration corner and the boys loved it! They especially enjoyed eating the stars on the cake!

 

And if all this was not enough, we met donkeys and goats and sheep on our way out! Everyone, sing with me, "Baa baa black sheep have you any wool? Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full. One for my master and one for my dame and one for little Shabd who lives on Palma Lane!"

"Thank you for coming to my appity to you" says Shabd!

Lunch Mummies

We almost always meet for lunch, that's why we call ourselves the Lunch Mummies. It's that simple.

I have a small set of friends, mummies themselves, and we meet regularly for lunch to chat, share, complain, cry, laugh, advise and support each other on this journey of motherhood. It's like belonging to a fraternity where we air out all our highs and lows, there are no judgments nor comparisons. There is plenty of encouragement, camaraderie, understanding and have I mentioned no judgments already?

When one sits down at that lunch table, you already have an "A" in motherhood. An "A" for being vulnerable, for being willing to say it like it is, an "A" for showing up, warts and all. And who doesn't want an "A"?

A date with Lunch Mummies is like going to group therapy, with wine! You're reminded that you're not meant to get it all right the first time round. Sometimes, it takes three tries. You're encouraged to have a good ole cry if you need it. You're cautioned to not set up camp on down days and you learn to accept that sometimes you need to ride the dragon. You're reminded that no matter what path you've chosen, you count, you are special!

And there is laughter, lots of it. Laughter at the blonde moments, the oversights, the oopsies and the milking it with the kids and husbands. There is fashion advice, sale notice reminders, patient bedside visits and crafting tips.

Over a milkshake, we talk of our hopes and dreams for ourselves and our children. We share our troubles, our regrets and our misgivings. We talk and talk and talk, jumping from headaches to office politics to potty training to the turquoise purses at Mango.

Having lunch with the Lunch Mummies is like going for a swim in the ocean. The water is warm and welcoming, and one feels refreshed and calm after having had the sea wash away all ones troubles.

Tamatave 2013