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I Want My Baby Back
by Moushumi Chakrabarty
Bringing up children is never easy!
Maybe you scoff at stories of alien invaders. I used to at one time. Now I think the theory that aliens can take control over your mind and you start being someone else, isn‘t balderdash. How so? Explain to me the sulk over the new jacket, the incident of the fast food restaurant and the accusation of ‘you're always shouting‘.
My daughter has always been an obedient child, definitely cheerful, friendly with the family and a good mimic. She used to fall in with my suggestions (regarding dress, free time, cartoons etc) with equanimity most of the time. Or even if she wanted to go another way, I generally gave in because those times were few and far between. Most evenings, we used to laugh ourselves silly over her imitations of some television personality or a French matron.
Spats with this almost-teen are becoming a regular feature in my life these days. I cannot imagine why this is happening. Between my husband and me, I have always read the most books on parenting, lectured him about how to bring up children and frequented websites on the topic with regularity. I knew I had it in me to raise my daughters in a manner calculated to arouse admiration from everyone. Even my mother-in-law. Often, in my spare time, I pictured the multitudes of envious women who would clap when I received the Most Successful Mother award.
Now all of a sudden, I'm in the midst of this sea of raging hormones with no star to guide me. Still a month away from her thirteenth birthday and I have this rebellious stranger setting up home within her body. She's developed an attitude and doesn't hesitate to state her point of view forcefully. Naturally any self-respecting mom like me, isn't going to take it lying down. I fight to retain control over my baby. When we are arguing over whether it is too cold to wear a jacket at three degrees centigrade, I do not see the little ‘toothless fairy' - my name for her when she was six months old.
I see this tall person with glasses, pimples and a belligerent expression, insisting that it is not cold enough to warrant a jacket. I am then accused of "shouting" at her all the time. Me, shouting? Why, my voice barely rises above a coo, ask my husband.
Can you blame me for subscribing to the alien theory?
Another example - last week, after the grocery shopping, I thought she deserved a treat - lunch at McDonald's. I knew she wasn't a big fan of my cooking. The treat would be my way of spending quality time together. I pictured the camaraderie of the fast food restaurant, the biting into the succulent burger, the jokes and laughter of a Sunday afternoon with the family. I thought we could start on a fresh footing. Just as the car turns into the restaurant, she pipes up, "I'd like your chicken stew with rolls at home."
Anybody got a number for the Anti-Alien Squad?
MOUSHUMI CHAKRABARTY
About the Author
Moushumi Chakrabarty has been writing for over ten years now and has been published in the print and electronic media. Her ebook, 'Positive Thoughts for Writers' is now available from www.echelonpress.com. She lives in Ontario, Canada and encourages those interested in get in touch with her on mou18ca@yahoo.com.
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