On feeling old

So what just happened was Zack returning back from his evening walk and playing the songs on his phone on speaker when he was inside the home. I was cooking and Moo was doing some craft work.

Me: Wow, you are playing early 90s Hindi songs. Cant believe it.

Him: I dont understand the songs, the music is good and the app only plays Hindi

Me: Which app is that? You can add languages if you want

Him: I have seperate apps for that

Me: < Insert whaaaatayyy emoticon>

Song being played is a chartbuster *

Me: This song was very famous when it was released

Him: Yeah, I like it too. Who is the singer? What are his recent songs

Me: He sang this 30 years ago. Does not sing any more.

Him: Oh my god, you are right.

Me: Yeah, we should stop thinking 90s are 20 years back. Its 30.

<Sigh>

 

 

Slow – 2

….continued from here

It was less of a rush and more of a clockwork timetable during the initial days of working in Sydney. I remember keeping alarms in my phone such as “Wake up Moo“, “Leave home” and “5 min to train“. We all used to leave home together, while Moo would be dropped off to the daycare by her dad, I would be on the way to station to catch the train to work. I have this thing fixed in mind that come what may, I should not be late to work. So on the days I missed my usual train because I got delayed by some reason in the morning, I would walk double my pace to reach office earlier, after getting off the train – invariably leaving me huffing and puffing by the time I reach my desk.

It continued even after I changed jobs when a better opportunity came along. Now I had to take two trains to reach my office. We decided I would do the drop in the morning and Zack would pick up Moo, since train delays were common in the evening rush hour. The daycare charged late fees if we would be even 5 minutes late. Morning rush took a new meaning altogether. Prepare our lunches, wake up Moo, give her a bath, get her ready, breakfast for her, packing up and leaving home at sharp 8, dropping her by 8:15, running to the station to catch the train in ten minutes – this was the schedule for all weekdays for close to 1.5 years. There had been so many days where I forgot to carry my lunch bag while leaving home 🙂

Evenings would be no different. I reached home at 7 and dinner would have to be ready by 8 so that Moo is fed and done and put to sleep by 9. I could never have a clean home or an empty laundry basket. Because I valued my rest over the household chores. Sudden visitors to our house on weekdays would meet with toys all around the living room, dining table filled with all kinds of edible and non edible stuff, the sofa would be dumped with crayons, sheets, papers, what not. Laundry would be done twice a week and all the clothes would be folded and ironed on Sunday evenings.

The day I realised that I am not letting Moo have a peaceful breakfast and a slow, relished, normal walk to the daycare is the day I still remember. I felt sorry for her actually. I am making her rush so much! It was not like I woke her up late, but she would be up and would want me to cuddle her for a long time. Then when it was bath time she would want me to pretend play or have me listen to her story. She would want to pick up her clothes by herself and wear it – slowly. I would be yelling it is getting late while she would be leisurely looking at the mirror asking how does she look 🙂 I realised what she actually wanted was to spend time with me – because in the daily schedule, we would hardly get two hours to be with each other. The realisation hit hard and I decided I need to put a stop to the rush.

The one person who benefitted more than me when I quit was of course the darling daughter. I continued sending her to daycare because she loved being with her teachers and friends there and honestly I felt I could do with the spare time just for myself. It took lots of decision making to put down the papers because financially we had to know if it was for good or worse. But as it always happens with me, my gut feeling won over the logic. We decided money will be second, time will be first.

Moo would still wake up at the same time, but we would talk and lot and do all the things she wanted at her leisure. The gift of time was surreal. It still is. For a month it was all about catching up lots of YouTube videos, movies, books, lounging, napping, organising and cooking. We walked at our own pace talking about how trains work and why cars have red lights. I picked her up in the evenings and we baked together! It was glorious seven weeks that I spent with the kid doing all things she wanted and all things I enjoyed.

We left for our vacation just before Christmas fully relaxed and ready to hop, shop and travel. Moo started kindergarten two days after we came back from our trip. The school here starts at 9 and finishes at 3. I am thankful its not rushed mornings – yet. We have a leisure cuddle filled mornings, long breakfast and a 15 min walk to school. We also meet a cat on our way daily whom we have named Timmy.

And I wish to continue the same – slow, relaxed, happy mornings. Hopefully I land a job which allows me to 🙂

Slow

I have been taking things slow since half a year. This also coincides with me turning 30 since half a year. Have I turned wiser? Probably not. But I have slowed down for sure.

Throughout my journey in the corporate world, it has been a rush. Rushed mornings, rushed deadlines, rushed evenings and as a result no time to stand and stare ( but of course). Before I moved to Bangalore, I worked for an IT firm for 18 months. I had rushed mornings then because I used to sleep late reading books. I would wolf down the breakfast and dash to my office, which was a 15 minute walk from home. Evenings were a bit relaxed then, in the sense I would eagerly want to go back home to dinner at 8 and plonk myself in my room with my book again.

As I shifted to Bangalore, I spent about two weeks being jobless before finding a job because somehow the chaos within and outside the house was comforting. I rushed again to catch the early morning bus to avoid long traffic, rushed to get work done because I was eager to prove myself, rushed to get the seat in the bus back to home and rushed to make dinner because growling tummy you see. The only time to sit back and enjoy the dust tinted views would have to be inside the bus. If you got the seat. Such competition for the place to rest your bum for 90 minutes 🙂

When I became a mum, the rush would be around getting things done so that I spend enough time with the baby. Always on the move, on the go. Eating, cleaning, cooking, folding laundry – all in a rush. I would finish everything just so that Moo could have my full attention. Hardly could achieve that, but I wont beat myself for it, I tried my best 🙂

I started working full time again when Moo turned a year and 3 months old. Of course I had to rush for everything as usual. Making sure she is bathed and fed before leaving for office. Packing the lunch boxes for us. Finish up everything in the evening and rush back home in the mad traffic. Cook, feed, burp, put to sleep and the works. It was a timetable on wheels which I could not stop.

When we told the family about moving to Sydney my sisters-in-law commented about the abundance of time I would have. “Work life balance would be great, enjoy, enjoy”. Little did I know how wrong it would be..

 

(to be continued)

(unable to finish this post because I have to make lunch now and hungry should remain hungry not become hangry, right? right? )