24 Hours - A Day from a Working Mom’s Diary (#BlogathonForMums)
- Working Women
- 14 Dec 2015
This entry is part of the Babyoye Blogathon for Mums.
Have you ever wondered how integral few tiny devices are in our lives? An alarm clock for instance? Yes an alarm clock.
Still snuggling under the sheets am wondering why the alarm clock hasn’t ticked yet. Is it being a little too considerate towards me today? Grin! Tringggggggggggggggggg... there it goes & off, I am on my toes.
Rubbing my eyes, I splash off the slightest trace of sleep to prepare myself for the impending hard day at field today. I rush towards the kitchen wondering what am I going to fill my little ones’ lunch boxes with? Having spent a good one hour in the kitchen I am done with the breakfast & lunch for the day. The eldest princess & the king of the house are packed off to school & office respectively.
It’s time to wake the little princess up. She is the toughest nut to crack. She wakes up to say it’s a 'happy day' today. (Read “happy day” as “holiday”) I struggle to convince her that the happy days are just 5 days away & now it’s time for her to get ready for school. I see her off as she waves back at me with a gloomy face.
My ordeal for the day has just begun. I take a deep breath & rush to freshen up. White or yellow?? How does it matter, the blue kurta has fewer creases & needs no ironing. I decide, ‘blue’ is the lucky color for the day. I lock the house with my mind doing its mathematical calculations: was the remaining milk put back into the freezer & the back door shut properly? Hope my wallet, cell phone & employee ID card are all in place! I hopped to catch a rick to office. The rick meanders through the potholed roads, maddening traffic, and the stench from the garbage heap lying unattended on every corner of the road. I finally reach the office after a bumpy, rollercoaster ride.
After the usual hi & hellos I begin my work for the day. A little chit-chats & gossip during coffee/ lunch breaks, and then back to the mundane work; this how an ideal day at work usually is. Suddenly, I notice my colleague’s unusual over animated gestures or rather hasta mudras, which I failed to notice during the earlier conversations. Not wasting a second, I acknowledge her well manicured hands, “Oh what a pretty nail paint!” she is quick to snap back “Oh the ring? It was presented by my hubby on my third anniversary!” I sigh back, “Congratulations, lucky gal!!”
I take a look at my hands; they seem to be screaming desperately for attention. They deserve some moisturizer at least, if not a manicure, for all the toil they do! I run my hands into my handbag digging for the moisturizer only to get them out messier. The open kohl pencil and the smudged lipstick tip have messed up my hands ever more. No prizes for guessing, the little princess was at her best again! Last evening I caught her digging for treasure in my hand bag.
I look at the clock & yippie its 6pm! Thank God! 30 mins to go & I can call it a day! Oh really? So what about the laundry & the kids home work? And the dinner that I need to cook, when I get back home? Can I really call it a day? No, not as early as I thought. By the way, why does it take soooooo long for the hands on the clock to reach their destination when we want them to reach? I’ve looked at the clock thrice & it feels as if these 30 mins were the longest wait everrrr.
It is 3 seconds past 6:30; I can leave the office now without the guilt of logging out early from office today. I rush towards the exit to catch a rick to head home. Going through the same maddening traffic, potholed roads, stench from the garbage heaps, I have a bumpy ride. At one of the traffic signals I find this cute couple on a motorcycle. The girl riding pillion cuddles on to the boy as he drives past and halts by the side of my rick. He balances his bike with one hand & clasps the girls hand securely with another. The girl whispers into the boys ears softly and they both giggle. I can’t take my eyes off them. They seem so much in love with each other. The thought of cooking bhindi or baingan for dinner tonight, brings me back abruptly.
I reach home and dump myself on the sofa. Both the princesses are giggling watching their favorite cartoon channel on the TV, unperturbed by my presence. The next 2 hours are spent juggling between chopping the veggies and ensuring that the kids are doing their homework’s promptly. The cursive “f” is done perfectly and simultaneously the bhindi is also crisply fried. Wow! What a feeling of achievement this is. Heavenly bliss!
The dinner is laid. The door bell rings. The king of the house managed to reach just in time. Both the princesses run towards him with stretched arms. ‘The meeting got stretched for a little longer than usual today’ he says, as he hands out the brown paper bag to me. Fish fingers, parceled from the club, all us know what’s in there. And no prices for guessing about the unofficial meeting that the king was occupied with. None the less, it’s a well spent evening with the family. All are well fed & the dishes are done.
Its quarter past eleven & finally, I can call it a day? No wait, the little one may call out to me at the oddest hour tonight and I am prepared for it. Stretching my back on my bed I stare at the white ceiling with my mind doing its calculations: will it be dosa or puri for tomorrow? The majestic snore of the king too could not stop me from drifting into a deep slumber and then trinnnnnnnnnnng the alarm clock goes off………………..
Sometimes, I wish I had a pair of extra hands, so I could finish my daily chores in half the time.
I wish I had cleared my DL Test, so that I could ride back and forth to the office avoiding long waits for the rick.
I wish each day had extra hours and that I could spend a little extra time with my kids.
I wish the alarm rang a few minutes later every morning so I could catch up a little more of my dear sleep.
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