Weekends. Like bookends, meant to keep order in things. A break from the insanity of the week gone by and the week to come. An oasis of calm between manic Monday and freaky Friday. Like bookends, weekends can also be interesting or just plain old blocks of wood.
Ever since I got back to full time work, weekends have a new meaning. They are the precious 48 hours I have within which I should fill my every plan. Friday evenings are the best! It has the feel that ‘anything and everything’ can be accomplished! So much time to do all the things planned! Friday nights are even better, the knowing that there is no crazy wake up schedule to keep up, kids to drop off, organize meals, get the washing done – all in the half hour before I grab my bag and lap top and rush to work, already running behind schedule!
Saturdays mornings dawn, smelling of fresh new surprises, of cuddling in bed with Dhruv and Diya. Of making plans, new inventions. Time to just sit with my morning tea and read the newspaper from the front page all the way till the end – yup sports section also happens on a weekend. Time for old handwritten recipes to come out. Time to read a book. Or just flip through the zillion channels on TV and find that one movie that can transport you back in time! Watch a cartoon with the kids. Garden. Dream.
This is my perfect weekend. Very often the reverse happens. Very often Saturdays turn to be the most chaotic day of the week. No time for tea. Newspapers?Huh?What’s that? Run,run,run. Most often to school. For a Parent Teacher Meeting. Where we just wait,wait,wait. Meet other bleary eyed parents. Sit.Stare.Smile. Make inane conversation. Subtly compare grades. Feel good or decide, nah, I don’t want to put my kid under such pressure. I don’t believe in the whole grading system anyway! Outcome depends on whether I met the mom of a top grader or not. Which in turn will set the mood for the weekend, because although I hate those competitive parents, when their son/daughter can read and my 5 year old daughter still occasionally trips through ‘hen’, ‘pan’ and’ fun’, I wonder if I am being too casual in my attitude of ‘they will learn when it’s their time’. If I should take matters into my hands, sit down and teach! This is when I see the smiling face of a perfect weekend fly out the balcony doors!
At other times, it’s my need to make sure that my kids have the best weekend ever (the guilt of being a working mom!)that makes it more hectic than it should. But it’s worth it if my son says ‘AWESOME day mom’. He’s at that age where ‘awesome’ means all things great,good,wonderful. Or when Diya cuddles up next to me and says ‘I love you 10 million, hundred thousand 4 hundred 25 dollars, mom!’ She doesn’t believe in thousands it has to be millions and for some obscure reason there’s a dollar at the end of it. Whatever. It makes me happy.
But this weekend, I can hope, will be my perfect weekend. No PTM. Just me and my 48 hours to do magic with!
This sounds like you wrote for me or of me! add a dog to all this and that's my life!! Keep writing!
ReplyDeleteThanks Nandi. I can just imagine life with a dog added to the mix!hehe. Let the fun times roll, eh Nandi! ;)
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