SEEKING PERFECTION IN THE IMPERFECT PILES
As my kids are ushered into their bedroom, half an hour before the routine time, I sit in the living room with my forehead supported by my palms.
They fall fast asleep in a few minutes but I've lost my sleep.
"Did I once speak to my munchkins in a loving tone today?" I ask myself.
My head wishes to move in a standing line(my perpendicular and horizontal lines are standing and sleeping since my firstborn was in the playway) but my heart doesn't let it lie.
"From the first sentence you spoke to them in the morning to the last one before putting them to sleep, instructions and reprimands are all they got from you," my heart complains.
"I agree, but didn't they insinuate that I do the same?" I counter-question. "I can't see a corner in our house that can be termed neat. How many times have I arranged the books systematically? Smaller ones on a side, bigger ones piled in sleeping lines and the storybooks stacked separately with their bound side looking outwards so that we can read the name. The scheme is maintained for a day or two and on the third day, I see ten sleeping books lying inconveniently over a pocket dictionary. The moment I touch them, they lose their balance and come crashing to the ground. A few books are stuck between the rack and the wall because my kids don't care to check if the book they casually inserted at the far end of the stack reached its rightful place or traveled farther down. I'm frustrated and pearls never drop from the mouth of an infuriated mother."
My heart smiles at me. "You have a huge collection of books that are read and appreciated by your kids. Isn't it a rare quality in the present generation? Have any of your friends ever shared that their kids love books? I know the answer. 'Rarely!' If the books are read and are not replaced in ascending or descending order, as per your fancy, is it a bad bargain?"
I'm speechless.
But I don't want to lose the debate.
"They don't maintain their cupboards perfectly. I can see a heap of clothes whenever I open it. There's no classification of shirts, lowers, frocks or shorts. And when it's time to go to the park, either of the two is complaining that they can't find this or that."
My heart flutters in irritation, "You stopped maintaining their cupboard when your workload increased many folds during the pandemic. Why do you look back? Neat or messy, it's their cupboard. Turn deaf when they can't find an item. The discomfort they face is the punishment for their indiscipline. Sooner or later, they will learn the importance of a well-arranged cupboard."
"Well said," I answer my heart, in my heart.
"And the toys scattered here and there? None of the tables, sofa, couch, bed or floor is spared. I keep shouting to clear the mess before mealtimes and bedtime. I feel jealous how my friends' houses look spic and span whenever I visit them whereas I slog the whole day to give my nest a bare decent appearance."
My heart raises its brows, "And I heard someone say that she never compares herself with others! Was it you?"
I hang my head in shame.
"Either your friends have grown up kids or they have a helper at home. In both cases, their houses are bound to be presentable. Your kids are preteens who've spent the last one and a half years at home(online classes), away from their friends and school. They spend hours in front of screens and toys are the best way to divert their attention and energy. It's a matter of another two or three years and all these toys will find their way out of your house. If you are irritated at the misplaced toys, be stern with your kids and make them pick the toys without losing your cool. I'm sure they will listen to you better when you politely ask them rather than screaming your lungs out."
Well, that's right. I've observed that I'm able to convey and reap better results if I keep my cool. The only thing is that I lose it and later repent.
"Keep your hand on your heart(yes, I mean, on me) and tell me if your kids are precious or not? Tell me if you're proud of them or not? Are they loved and appreciated by your friends or not? If they are popular among the kids for being generous, friendly and adjusting or not?" my heart hit the nail on the right spot and with the right force.
I take a deep breath and head towards my kids' bedroom. Planting kisses on their cheeks, I promise them that tomorrow they'll wake up to a better mom. A mom, who'll smile a little more and yell a little less. Who'll try to inhale her anger and exhale patience at the sight of loitering books, toys and clothes?
Once my kids grow up, they'll be gone leaving my nest in the perfect shape. Then, there'll be no toys, neither arranged nor scattered. Their cupboard will bear a neat yet deserted look. Only the leftover clothes will be placed in segregated piles. The favorite ones will be gone to the hostels. The books will no longer leave their designated places. Sleeping lines, standing lines, piles, stacks; all will be left as I decide.
"Good night, Surbhi," I tell myself. "Let tomorrow be a new beginning. Learn to smile through your imperfectly perfect day. See the perfections in the imperfect piles and stacks. Live and let live."
****************************
If this write-up felt worthwhile, please encourage me by dropping a word or two.
God bless you!
