Beginnings and endings

It's shaping up to be a strange, strange weekend.

I'm not a parent. I don't foresee becoming a parent anytime soon, and contrary to the beliefs of everyone around me who likes to tell me I don't really mean this, I'm totally and absolutely okay with that. Because God forbid I should know how I feel about parenthood.

Two weeks ago, I got to work, parked the car, and checked my email. I usually have my phone mounted on the dashboard, and glance at messages as they come in during my drive to work; that day, for some reason that I can't recall, I had chosen not to. So I checked my email as I was getting out of my car, and I see a note from my manager that my team mate's son had died the previous night.

Today was his memorial service. And as I sat there, surrounded by my coworkers, including my manager and VP, mothers all, hearing them weep silently as the priest spoke of the loss of a child, something I've always believed was reinforced even more - I may not be a parent, but I don't think there can be nothing tougher than having to deal with the death of your child.

Tomorrow, I'm hosting a baby shower for a friend. I'm the only unmarried woman in my current social circle, but somehow I've ended up being in charge of this shower. Organizing this shower has created a good deal of stress over the past couple of weeks, because despite having studied and worked in women-only environments for close to a decade, I've never quite got used to just how utterly bitchy women can be. And some of the women who are helping and attending the shower tomorrow have been stark reminders.

But my friend is having a son in a few months, and that needs to be celebrated, even as my team mate mourns the loss of his. And so it's shaping up to be a strange, strange weekend.

Self-justification

A long, very long time ago, I used to say that if I'm not married by 30, I'll adopt a daughter. And people would laugh and say, "oh, you want to be like Sushmita Sen." And I would roll my eyes and say, "no, you moron, there are other women in the world who've done this, I didn't even know she was planning to when I decided this."

Well, maybe I wasn't quite as rude, but you get the gist.

Anyway. Then I grew up a little and realised this wasn't a very good plan because see, kids annoy me. They do. They annoy and terrify me. Especially babies. They terrify me, and they're like dogs because they sense my fear and therefore start crying when I come anywhere near them. Which terrifies me even more.

Although I probably get even more terrified by those strange babies who don't start crying when they see me. Who just stare at me or chuckle at me as if I'm supposed to say something very intelligent or noteworthy and I have no idea whether I'm supposed to stare back or look away, or how long I need to stare back before I can politely look away, because dammit, there are no rules for this sort of thing.

And then these babies grow into kids, who range from being cute to little monsters who think they're SO much smarter than you. My aunt, whose three kids are all at least a decade younger to me, thinks I'm very good with kids. Statements like this are designed to make me simultaneously burst out laughing and have palpitations. And more than an hour in the presence of any kids makes me supremely uncomfortable.

So anyway, while marriage doesn't seem to be anywhere on the cards in the next few years, it is fairly certain that neither is that adoption, because I'm not stupid and I wouldn't to me or that poor kid.

But. Some time ago I suddenly started following all these blogs and people on twitter who talked about their kids all the time. Very beautifully, at that. So beautifully that the occasional "what-if" thoughts started creeping into my head. And then a few months ago, I was at a professor's home for dinner, and I don't know who would do such a stupid thing, but his two-month old daughter was put in my arms. And I froze and stayed absolutely still till someone took pity on both of us and called the kid's mother to take her away from me.

See, here's the thing. The only time any maternal feelings arise in me is when I think of my princess. People whip out their phones to show off photos of their tiny tots' antics, I whip mine out to show off the gorgeous creature that Kyra is. I am somewhat known for having ticked off a lot of people who have been telling me about their kids or nieces or nephews by exclaiming, "oh, how cute, my dog does that too!" Because she does, dammit, and I don't see why people have to get so offended by the comparison.

I also may or may not have cried a teeny-weeny bit a week ago when the mother showed me on Skype to the princess, who yawned, got up and walked off.

I've also learned over time, the hard way, that you really never should say never. So maybe kids will happen someday. If for no other reason but that I have these really awesome names I want to give them even if everyone else says those names are stupid.

But for now, I'm going to read those blog posts, sigh wistfully for just a second, and then move on to the next outrage-provoking piece of news that makes me wonder why anyone would want to bring kids into this utterly stupid world.

After all, that, if nothing else, is definitely a good reason to ignore any biological clock that tries to start ticking.

Gandhi my father

Well. I've never been particularly fond of Mahatma Gandhi, and after seeing Gandhi my father, I like him even less. Extremely well-made movie though, with brilliant performances from the main protagonists.

I've always thought it's very unfair to the kids of parents who've done well in life to have such standards to live up to. I mean, I'm not just talking about the Harilal Gandhis of this world. But come on, think about it, having a father who's an IIM product doesn't exactly make life easy on the kids, especially if they can't live up to those standards. It's like Ron tells Harry, if you don't do well, you're compared unfavourably, and even if you do well, it's no big deal because it's been done before.

Gandhi had funny ears though.

It's all about the quality...

A/N: I'm no parent, just a regular person who's too fond of whiling away time by thinking up thoughts which others unfortunately get to read. So these aren't the opinions of an expert, but then, as one of my favourite quotes goes: you don't have to be an authority on a subject to express your opinion.

One of the most clichéd terms we hear today is "quality time." It refers to the time a working parent spends with his/her child, who is otherwise neglected. The phrase originated in the United States of America in the 1980s, and according to a spot of research I did, it came from the notion that parents can 'have it all', i.e. a successful career and happy home life.
I remember hearing of this phrase all the time as a child - parents would proudly claim they spend "quality time" with their children. With the passage of time, the phrase started being viewed with some degree of cynicism. There came about an attitude of thinking, "Oh, that person completely ignores his/her children, and then thinks (s)he can make up for it by spending a few minutes or buying expensive gifts," etc.
In today's world, most families do have both parents working, which isn't that bad a thing. Yes, it is sad to see parents leave their children with nannies even as infants - I think you need to stay with your child for at least some time till (s)he is somewhat old enough. But after a point, it gets necessary to leave them (however heartwrenching it may be) and go out to do your job. And that's when quality time kicks in.
Quite frankly, I don't see why quality time is such a bad thing. If you get to spend less time with your child, it makes sense to make those few moments matter. You've only got to look at families where there is a stay-at-home parent, but the child is still completely spoilt to know it's not always quantity that matters. On the other hand, if in the time that you have together, you manage to have conversations with your child over things that matter, you'll probably do a better job at instilling values than a harried mother who ends up pleading with her children (ineffectively, at that) to behave.
Of course, it also depends what exactly you take quality time to be. I would say talking, playing games, or doing anything together would count. Giving the kid an expensive toy, and then just sitting in the same room with a bunch of files probably wouldn't have the same effect.
Quality time isn't just restricted to parent-child relationships either. If you have a friend who you don't get to meet too often, then the occasions when you do meet need to matter, and you need to think of ways to stay connected despite not meeting too often. A lot of relationships fade away because not enough effort is made by either one or both parties to keep it going strong. And it's up to you to decide which are the relationships that deserve to be kept going, and which ones you can let fade away.