Just a Mimi

In the world of promotions, EMIs, and day care centers, I'm a rare species; the unemployed, stay-at-home mom. A few years ago, I'd have vehementally denied the possibility of ending up as "just" someone's mimi. I was ambitious, and the jobs I jumped were proof of that. I was reasonably good at my job, or atleast that's what my bosses led me to believe. My marksheet from college held proof of a rank I got for Feminist Literature. I definitely wasn't going to give up a job, for a household and a baby. I lived in a world of equals.

Fortunately for me, I married someone who saw me as an equal. However, as chance would have it, my priorities changed. My son was born, and I knew I didn't want to leave him even for a second. I took refuge in the horror stories that I read about careless nannies renting out babies to beggars. I couldn't possibly take that risk with my baby. I attempted working from home, but that was just as difficult. I was more annoyed at the nanny who'd sincerely taken charge. She changed his diaper, fed him his meals, and sang him to sleep. She was taking on a role that was only mine. Also, how could I churn out storyboard after storyboard, when I was more apprehensive about whether the fruit was washed properly, and if the nanny was taking Adiv to the kitchen to gossip with the other maid. After a month, I found I had little time with him. So I indulged in some internal debating, and politely sent her off. Then I resigned.

Life has been wonderful ever since, though not the easiest. I knew I couldn't juggle several roles tirelessly and do them all well. I knew I couldn't spend quality time with Adiv, and meet deadlines, and ensure I had a clean, nicelooking home, and cook for a family potluck dinner, and read a page a day of my current book, and write.....! So I had to quit. Ofcourse I was fortunate enough to be able to afford it (Thank you Ro).

Now I only had to deal with friends and family who threw well-meaning yet condescending comments my way.

"I never had the time to notice my baby's responses to music. I was working."

"What? After playing journo, you're now sitting at home? Do you atleast wander the streets of Bangalore to find stories that you can send to newspapers?"

"You're so lucky. You can sleep if you want to." (Huh? Like housewives spend their mornings sleeping.)

Like many women before me, this post is an attempt to answer those questions. Life isn't easier now. I don't work because I chose not to (the empowered woman speaks). I'm up by 7 and I plan the menu for the day, put out the ingredients for the cook, make sure Adiv's breakfast is ready, and then wake him up. Feeding him takes a lot of patience. I climb the window grill, attempt new steps from MTV, make stories about the green turtle, read books, show videos on youtube, and play hide-and-seek before Adiv finishes his breakfast. Then there is lunch and dinner. Luckily, the Mass Communication classes helped hon my creative skills for this day. In addition to feeding, there's bath time, ABC time, and time(all day long) to make sure he doesn't do the forbidden. Despite keeping one eye on him at all times, he still continues to give me a fright from time to time (like when he drank up a bottle of cough syrup, or atleast led me to believe he had). Covering himself in peanut butter and later poop, also require special mention. Otherwise, we've managed pretty well. I bake him banana bread and cookies, and teach him about the world he lives in. I also read to him about Dada bear, Mimi bear, Adi bear, and Goldilocks, and encourage every little sign of talent. I clap the loudest when he dances, and tell the world when he speaks a new word. I punish him when he is naughty, but I never run short of those bear hugs and kisses.
Even this long monologue is met with incredulous looks of disbelief. You quit so you can have fun with Adiv? Perhaps if I had to cook and clean as well, I'd have received more sympathy.

"Don't you miss making your own money?"

"Don't you miss doing something for yourself?"

"Don't you miss working outside the house?"

I respond with my ready answers. I'd miss making my own money, if Ro didn't buy me my books and movies. I have no aspirations of owning that dream house with a fountain and spacious garden. Luckily my needs are simple, and since I have no green fingers, the thought of having a garden doesn't arise (except for a few pots in the balcony perhaps)!

I don't miss doing anything specific, because I make the time to do it all. I read, I write, I listen to music, I watch movies, and most importantly, I'm there for my child. I'm never too tired or too preoccupied. I'm there to plan his birthday parties and bake his cakes. I'm there to drive him to school and the play area. I'm even around when he wakes up crying because he has just dreamt about an angry doggie.

However, despite all of this, I do miss working outside the house. I miss meeting an impractical deadline, attending a pretentious meeting in a conference room, and gossiping over a cup of coffee in the pantry. Most importantly, I miss the thrill of receiving appreciation in the form of a good word or a promotion. Before you empathize, I haven't given up on those aspirations atall. I've merely postponed them for later.

For now, I'm happily just Adiv's Mimi. We fight when he fusses over a meal, we dance to "Wake up Sid", we sing every song on Sesame street, we color newspaper and our hands with non toxic paint, we play pretend games with his cars and action figures, we sing our ABCs and 123s, we make paper boats with forgotten newspapers, we dress up and go on drives, we share bars of chocolate, we read together;our thoughtful heads together on a pillow, we cream our faces at the end of a day....

I'm not apologetic about being a stay-at-home mom. I'm one, because I chose to be one, and I love it. Having said all this, I mean no disrespect to those mommies who juggle both roles with ease. But then, this post isn't about you. It is about me!