Why do we compare? Who do we compare with? What are the standards? Who set those standards?

No, there's so definite definition to being a mother. If there is any, that's being the best mother. Because all mothers are the best. None can be any less. We all fight for our children and love them to bits.

Can love be measured? No. 
Can our struggles be less than someone else's? No.

Each one loves. Each one fights.

Then why put yourself up against standards that don't exist? Why think that what you've done may not be enough? You're doing the best you can. And only you know the best for your child.

So, sit back. Take a break from judging yourself. Look at the awesome marvels you've created. Aren't they just perfect? Yes. Because you created them. Because you're the best. The best mother for your children.

Scene 1

Day - This Monday
Time - around noon

Prabir, now almost 2.5 years old, broke the remote back cover and started throwing everything off the bed, which included my novel and his toys.

I reacted pretty harshly and demanded that he pick the book from the floor right away. To which, I was met with an utter stubborn behaviour coupled with screaming and wailing at the top of his lungs. I stood my ground and refused to budge. He, being my blood and soul, stood his ground and refused to budge too. And this ensued over half an hour of screaming, wailing, coaxing etc etc. I did try to negotiate and make the situation a little more favourable to him as my temper cooled. However, he did not relent. Finally,  after about 45 minutes that seemed like forever, I had to pick him off the floor as well as the book. Phew!

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Scene 2

Day- Today (Wednesday)
Time- around 11 am

A househelp needed a medicine for which I took out the medicine box. In no time, all the medicines were all over the bed, some being torn apart or in the process of being rigged out of their seal. The moment I reacted asking Prabir what he was up to, he threw the box off the bed.

I asked him to pick it up and yes, he refused again. So, I closed my eyes and pleaded a little birdie to come and help Prabir pick up the box so that we could play a new 'aim' game. The box was on the bed within seconds and then we both aimed all the medicines (tablets only) inside the box and kept it away.

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Would seem just another day to anyone. However, to a full time, stay-at-home mother, any such incident is good enough to trigger an outburst (which was what happened on Monday). It might seem trivial, but not when you're required to keep your calm every second of the day.

With your patience and perseverance levels tested every minute, it's hard to just smile and go through your day. In fact, at such times, I really need to remind myself why I am following gentle parenting and why not resort to a little spanking to set things straight. Thankfully, the better part of my brain and heart knows, even in those bleak moments, that spanking will not help and only make it all even more traumatizing for both of us.

The fact is that I know the workaround. I even know, well most of the times, what will help and what won't. Yet, I let my temper take over. Who benefits? Neither mumma nor the baby. It all boils down to endless tears and cursing myself.

So, yes, we mothers aren't perfect. While you may see us handling our little ones pretty well and think we have it all sorted, the fact is we don't. We too have those moments when we want to hide somewhere, away from the constant wailing and endless tantrums. We too have serious meltdowns and we can cry for hours for seemingly no reason. When we go down the guilt trip after behaving a little strictly with our little ones, we'd love someone to tell us that it's okay and that it's absolutely normal.

I write this after almost 20 minutes of dancing and rocking my son for his afternoon nap.... preceded by 20 minutes of running after him all over the house... preceded by 30 minutes of lunch in which he only wanted to eat watermelon seeds.....

I'm tired and we're not even half past the day. And that's me, almost every day. Whoever said motherhood is easy! But again, we always have a choice as to how to react to a situation and handle it.

I think a cup of coffee might help now :)

I have a small group of mothers around me and we regularly discuss things about our respective children and seek advice from each other. Topics range from breastfeeding to food, vaccinations, outings, medicines, illness, home remedies. Basically, anything and everything.

While there's so much to learn yet, there's one thing other mothers always ask me - How do I remain so patient with my son all the time? Do I never get the urge to pick the rod?

If I have to confess, then to say that I have the composure of a saint would be the biggest lie. I snap often, I get angry quickly and I don't forgive easily.

But when it comes to my son, I hold back that impulsive emotion. I tell myself that I need to work out the situation some other way that's amicable to both of us.

He's a toddler and he'll have his tantrums. To give in to them or not is my prerogative as the parent. However, when the head banging, hitting and biting starts, all the saner thoughts fly to a distant land.

Handling the terrible twos is definitely a bigger and lengthier test I've ever taken. And the downside is that there's no textbook to go by. Just one thumb rule - Be gentle and loving, no matter how big the tantrum or bad the situation.

The first thing I do, at such times, is to stand back for a while. Away from him, and observe him. Then, as he begins his rolling-on-the-floor phase, I go and cuddle him and then starts the mammoth task of distracting him or talking it out. Most of the times, this works.

At other times, when I'm clearly not in a very safe mood myself, I keep away for longer and let someone else, usually my husband, take the front seat.

So, these days, we're always running late for everything. The reasons are pretty simple. My son may not like the clothes I pick for him and would prefer to put on something absolutely weird. Or he'd want to try all the shoes and slippers and sandals before deciding that he'll wear one each from two different pairs. Or he'd simply refuse for a diaper change as we run out of time.

The reasons are endless. And trust me, there's a lot of cajoling, negotiating and bargaining that goes on here, day in and out. The objective, however, is the same - a happy toddler.

So, yes. I usually run out of my reservoir of patience, more than a few times every day. I get firm and even upset and angry. But I don't let these emotions get the better of me. For my son is just being the baby that he is. He's entitled to his tantrums and the dramas. My only goal in those moments is to make him feel loved and understood, and reassure him every time that mumma has his back, always and all the time :)