The case I present to you today is a simple one.
How did you prepare for motherhood? By wearing bangles, eating healthy and being pampered.
What did you think that motherhood was about? Cuddles and smiles, right?
(And if you are like me your thoughts whirled around in an obsessive way to figure out how to get into labor before the doctor decides to cut you up like a someone from Grey’s Anatomy).
But, don’t you think to-be mothers deserve a glimpse, an iota of enlightenment before they are dropped down, headfirst, to free fall into the Amazon wild, with nothing to survive on but a 1950’s tape recorder spewing bad advice?
I say, put them in some prisoner camps. Then, they would know how to have patience when their life is controlled by one who thinks their appeals to be set free is gibberish or just downright funny!
What about some SWAT training with a delicate porcelain vase to balance on their heads? That way they’d be able to hit the ground running even at 3 in the morning.
Atleast, hire the guy from Oceans 11 to teach them some contortionist moves to get through crisscrossing laser beams without tripping the alarm? That might be of some help on those days when they need to get out of the room without waking the baby who wails and flails at the slightest creak of the floorboard or sometimes even without that and then would have to be back to rocking him to sleep for the 10th time in the same hour!
And I am yet to figure out what sort of training is required to combat the neverending sleepless nights, and especially the mornings that inevitably follow them. Unbuttoned shirts, engorged body parts, warm greetings accompanied by a giggle and a sticky palm, the aroma of fresh poop wafting up and spiraling through the room and the welcoming sight of an oozing fuming septic ball doubled or if luck is on their side, tripled in size. Can anything prepare them from going into malfunction overdrive and confessing all their sins of this and previous lifetimes?
So you see, we immediately need to start a petition on Change.org(cause that’s where all petitions go) to “I don’t know who” to provide some training to women intending to embark on this ‘beautiful’ journey called motherhood because in the current scenario, it is like having to run a Marathon in the desert for the first time, alternating between a sprint and a dash for the entire 42.195 kilometres with no shoes on, a couple of bottles of water, and never having done so much as a stretch in your life!
Sign your name below if you support my cause.
(I also recommend changing the cassette in the tape recorder to repeat “It’s just a phase. This too shall pass” on loop. They might be fooled for a while).
This post is written for BAR-A-Thon Day 2.