Mother Disorder
After more than an year of having shelved all my books, I really felt the need to read something today. The kids were in bed, the kitchen wrapped up and still some time at hand before my regular sleep time. It seemed like the perfect setting to indulge in some reading. I warmed a cup of milk and leisurely selected a book to read. Since both kids were sleeping in my room, I decided not to disturb them by switching on the light there. I gingerely closed their door, and walked into Toynas room to relax myself on her bed. The moment I switched on the light, I was greeted with her Taekewondo dress on the floor. She obviously just dropped it after returning from class, on the way to bath. I rested the book on the bed and the cup on the shelf and picked up the dress to drop it in the laundry basket. As I was dropping the dress, I noticed her bathroom light was on. I went till the bathroom to switch off the light and noticed the buckets in disarray and the soap loitering on the floor. I organised the buckets and the soap, turned off the light, locked the bathroom door and came back till the bed. As I sat on bed, I realised there was someone already resting in bed. It was Toynas favourite Barbie covered under a white school hanky. I had little choice but to put the Barbie in the toy box, and fold the hanky back with the school uniform. Now that I was in her cupboard, I decided to organise her dresses and uniforms a little. …..
I guess you get the idea. By the time I was done with cleaning and organising her room, my milk was cold and my book long forgotten. I gulped my milk and got back into my bed to join her in her dream world.
I don’t feel bad for the cold milk or the lost book. I was also not angry withToyna for the mess in her room. After all, kids are supposed to be kids. I had a choice to ignore the mess, push away the Barbie into a corner and settle myself on the bed. Of course the Barbie would have been willing to share Toynas bed with me. The problem was not the Taekewondo dress or the bathroom light or the Barbie. The problem was what I can call the “Mother Disorder”. As mothers we just cannot rest in peace till we have a messy room around us. We can even make Yamraj wait for us, till we finish our cleaning and organising. What is a little book with a glass of milk compared to that.
To all Mothers out there, who are still cleaning up after the tornadoes of the day, I propose a toast of cold milk, “Cheers to us!! Keep the good work on and remember that you are not alone. There are many more paranoid mothers just like you trying to make a difference. Keep at it till the day your children are old, married and have children of their own. God willing, maybe then, you will outgrow this Mother Disorder.”