Mom’s quandary: A question I don’t have an answer to

 

Birthday girl ready for school

Okay. So this is me. As in, me, myself, because I do not have answers to [read hate to address] some questions.

I celebrated 12 years of motherhood yesterday.

It was wonderful. I woke up, got into my slippers, switched on the heater, washed my face, brushed… did all the rest like anyone else’s all other days... then plonked on the sofa and my man gave me my undoable cup of hot tea. I gave him company before waking up our excited girl.

The dad handed over the gifts and I cheered. Unbelievable excitement followed and I ran to grab the camera to capture her wide eyes popping out wider as she unwrapped the first one. By the second one, I heard a voice in me ‘you idiot don’t lose the moment’, so I handed over the camera in reliable hands.

Being a special day, I didn’t have to pack breakfast. Gave the birthday girl some cash to enjoy with her friends. Used that time to scrub my feet and posed beside my beautiful girl, who by then had helped herself into her B’day gear.

Then set about to execute The Mom’s duty.

Drove her to school… as in sat along with her in the car… and again walked along rubbing her waist. At the steps, I did the honours of taking each item from the dad and stringing it up on her. First strapped the bag on her back, then adjusted her pull-over and set her hair. Then handed over the chocolate box, and finally, precariously placed the box of cake on her other forearm and kissed her a good day.

Meanwhile, my dear friend had volunteered to bake cakes to celebrate the birthday. I being me myself, I said, “yes, please. Drop in at your convenience and I’ll have the things ready.”

She was on the dot. And the oven was in the pack. Had to be installed. Did the only thing I do in times of emergencies. Dialled my man’s number. Assured it’ll be done, I asked her to get, set, start.

That’s when my friend asked for ingredients. So very kind of her, I happily agreed when she volunteered to buy the same for me.

My lil girl’s excitement knew no bounds and she already smelled cupcakes. She recited the list of  how many she’ll give her best friend the next day and how many she’ll save for the weekend party and how unbelievable it is and…I couldn’t ask her to shut up as it was her day!

“Get the moulds ready.”

“For what”, I asked busy clearing the dishes.   

“Oh mama!. Where are you lost”! sighed my girl.

“But…aa..moulds..”

“You didn’t buy Mo..o..u..lll..dds!!!! Wwhhoaat!!! And you set out to bake!!!! Mammmaa!

I had taken a day off from work, to make the day special for my girl!

PS: At night when she kissed me goodnight, I said, “We’ll do the baking next week darling. So your birthday celebration will last that much longer, too. Isn’t that exciting!”

“Yeeaah! How cool no!” She hopped off, with a zillion springs in her steps at that wee hour. At the door, she turned to ask, “But mama, why do you hate cooking so much?”