I wanna grow up once again...!

They say that the hand that rocks the cradle, rules the world. Forget the cliched version. I say: the hand that changes the channels on the TV remote control rules the house. Difficult job considering that the tiny people from the cradle outgrow us in height, decibels, outlook, dramatic dialogues and what not! It is impossible to argue with them about which program to watch considering that we have decided to stick to having only one TV in the house. I know the entire schedule of all the animated programs on any given day of the week.

While my munchkins were still growing up, I would find myself humming nursery rhymes even when they were not around. It was an overwhelming phase. Especially in a nuclear family, where your support system is your lifeline, I would hope that they grow up soon. I was like, ‘God, when would the diaper phase go away?!’

The irony is that whenever we would cross a milestone and move on to the next phase, the earlier phase would look like a piece of cake. What I would give today to go back to ‘rocking them to sleep’ phase. Don’t get me wrong here: each phase has its pros and cons. How I would wait for them to start talking. I actually had a list of words that my first-born would adapt on a daily basis. And now, I want them to like ‘zip it’ for a few moments so that I can hear my own voice, or the irritating ‘tick-tock’ of the clock, for that matter, or (to sound poetic) the chirping of birds!

I used to scatter crayons all around the house for the older one to discover them and to unleash her creativity on the walls, as she had no exposure unlike the younger sibling. My husband used to think that I had lost my mind completely!

We have the older one’s scrap book filled up neatly. The younger one’s scrap book was bought after he turned two years old, out of guilt. It remains brand new, till date. No favouritism. Just that having one child makes you a parent; while having two makes you a very busy referee.

It is extremely rewarding to see them try to take charge of their own little worlds in their own little ways. I feel very proud of them when they take their own decisions, which they may or may not stick to. Having said that I badly miss their baby days now. They would ask me, ‘Mamma, it’s time tooooo....?? ‘ And I would say, ‘It is time to eat your snacks.’ And they would go and eat their snacks. Now, they have wrist watches with alarms. They decide when they want to come back home depending on how much school work they are yet to finish.

Not to declare it as a finality, but it is emotional to find myself getting obsolete slowly. I know they will still need me around, just like I need my mother even today, in my happy moments and sad. What I would give away for my mum to take care of me and I would just follow her instructions on what to wear and what to eat and when to sleep and when to get up. No worries and not a care. My biggest issue would have been ‘I have to get up early to catch up the Sunday morning TV marathon.’

This is my side of the story. The grass is always greener on the other side. Children can’t wait to grow up and grown ups are ready to give everything they can to get their childhood back. Only thing I am truly glad about is: we are adults in the current times. I pity the children of today, as in, the exposure of the electronics is so distracting. Thank God, I grew up before Facebook and WhatsApp and Instagram and Snapchat. Not to sound ancient, but the landline phone had its own charm.

It is a sentimental phase. I know the worse is yet to come. But it is totally worth it. I want them to stay children and they can’t wait to become adults.

Happy Children’s Day to all the want-to-be-adults and all the want-to-be-children.

I miss the tiny fingers and tiny toes,

Getting late for playtime were their biggest woes.

The toothless grins and the messy chins.

Getting to sleep near Mamma were their biggest wins.

The broken words and the rewarding hugs,

Are slowly turning into eye-rolls and shrugs.

It is overwhelming albeit the pain,

Mamma, I wanna grow up once again.