BLAH

Not going through the best of times…have so much to write and then again, when I sit to put thought to paper, I always fear.

Manu is being his difficult worst. Asserting independence does not have to necessarily be this difficult for him or me, right? A complete negation of the simplest requests, rolling on the floor, diversionary tactics to avoid being extricated from play…it is becoming increasingly difficult for me to be patient and not give him any kind of attention, good or bad! Oh trust me, right now I am not even entertaining thoughts of good attention. What I would love to do is give him a sound thrashing he will remember all his life. But that’s not done, neither is yelling ok. So through this all, not only am I supposed to coolly ignore, I am expected to praise him and compliment him when he does eventually give in after hours of contest. The pressure of it all is beginning to tell on me and I cannot let him know that either…so lots of time spent crying in the bathroom and returning with bloodshot eyes to his innocent comments on them! If only I wasn’t so concerned about making a good man out of him….

And of course as always, support is minimal. Whenever I complain about anything, Aniruddh promptly pipes in his own. Even if it is a simple thing like I didn’t sleep well last night, his lack of sleep always has to be more serious and worthy of attention. Sometimes I feel he fears that if my grievance is valid he might not get the attention he is so used to.

I wonder why grandparents are so blind to their grandchild’s problems. Why does it always have to be him with a reason and me being unreasonable? My mother’s answer to any tough time in my life is always PMS. My mother-in-law’s response will always be a sympathetic poor thing. Not for me, for the others, in this case Manu. Think of it, anybody who has to endure me is indeed in a pitiable state.

And at the end of it all, I am supposed to ignore everybody’s tantrums! God forbid I should have one of my own. Watch the world around me swoop down on me as would eagles on their prey.

Tantrums, I realized, much to my consternation, are not restricted to two-year-olds. Some adults have driven me up the wall with their craziness too. Obsession with trivialities, a need to glorify and be deified, using irrelevant excuses as crutches for bad behaviour, tiresome details, always good, always admirable, excessive self praise and an overbearing sense of self-worth. Me, me, me, I, I, I…it never stops!

But through it all shines a tiny sliver of hope. Much like a ray of light making its way through a crack in a door in a dark room. New acquaintances, some genuinely delightful, some wonderfully sensible, some endearingly supportive, some thankfully appreciative.

I should open that door some time soon.