Blog :Mothering Multiples.........
Date: 6/19/2012 8:01:45 AM
Imagine this –
You have a cookery competition at work. You’ve done everything you possibly could have and tentatively wait for the judges to arrive. They finally come to your table, which, incidentally is the LAST one in the row. The judges are already stuffed to the gills and you have this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that far from delivering a just verdict on your dishes, the judges are barely capable of inserting another morsel of food in their mouths.
The judges stand there, peering at your plates and then give you a glare. It is immensely difficult to fathom what goes on behind those beady eyes and flushed cheeks. One of them tentatively picks up one item and brings it to his mouth. You can see the hesitation, the reluctance, the sheer effort to control the surge of nausea as they have to perform their duty. You know, even before they are capable of taking that bite that things are not working in your favour. Your team-mates look just as glum. You stand there with your head bowed, praying for them to just leave, before any one of them indeed throws up! It’s a scary thought, but you really don’t want any projectiles landing on the fruits of your labour
Somehow, the seconds seems to drag endlessly. Then you see another chubby arm reaching out for another bite. Then another. And another.
Your head whips up in time to see the most satisfied look on the judges face. If souls could preen, yours did exactly that. Though stuffed, the judges cannot seem to get enough of your dishes. You hand them more. They gulp in delight, like little children lost in Candy land. Your team mates shake hands and thump you in the back. They’ve been green with worry throughout the day. It is clear that the judges LOVED your dishes. You patiently wait for them to finish, letting them take their own sweet time to demolish whatever you’ve made. Its an effort well spent.
The others send envious looks your way. You don’t care. It is obvious whom the judges favour . It is no longer a secret. You stand there patiently, waiting for the verdict, which you already know by now. One of the judges extends his hand for a bite, alas, the plate is empty. You look down at it disappointed and then meet eyes with the judge. You send a smile in apology. The judge isn’t buying it. It is a tad late for you to react, but frankly, that punch that landed on your face just wasn’t expected, was it??
You gasp in shock, fear and pain. Your nose hurts a lot more than you ever expected. Unexpected tears trickle down your eyes. You shake your head to clear the haze. The lights have disappeared. It is dark. You wonder if you’ve lost your sight along with your nose. A curtain ruffles in the breeze. The haze clears.
You are in your bed. You daughter has just delivered a well-aimed kick at your nose. Her foot resides just inches from your face, ready to cause pain if she bothers to turn in her sleep. You crawl out of bed, only to find that you landed on the floor even before you could crawl two steps. The haze is definitely clearer now. You stand up to survey the damage. The nose, thankfully, is intact. No bleeding diagnosed.
You turn to the wardrobe mirror and laugh stupidly. Some crazy dream, that.
You make some space on the bed, shift your son and daughter into a better position and then cuddle down with them.
You can’t sleep.
The competition is still on tomorrow and you dread the judges once more
And that is how, I spent last night and got up this morning!!
Hope you guys had a better start to the day