When do you stop being a ‘new parent’? Is it when your child gets yet another bout of flu and you don’t even consider going to the pediatrician? Is it when your heart doesn’t race when the child is upside down on the monkey bar? Is it when you shout and stress out and then make up and cuddle and so often that it’s just as routine as brush, bath, breakfast? Is it when you don’t bat an eyelid when the child bit your new gel soap, but just grab it from her and proceed to take your bath?
After four whole years, I probably cannot call myself a newbie mom. I’ve been through some unarguably serious adult experiences like being the parent in the parent-teacher meeting, becoming a seasoned ‘park mom’ who knows the best spot to sit for a strategic view of afore-mentioned monkey bar while also being far enough to not be called upon constantly.
I’m quite a pro at packing the paediatric travel- medicine kit in a jiffy and knowing how to maximise my suitcase space for a 3 day trip by stuffing at least pairs of tiny clothes, toys, books, snacks, spoons and emergency wet bags. Then there’s the planning birthday parties, attending birthday parties, and rotating gifts from birthday parties, attending annual days and sports days and cheering wildly to see elated pre-schoolers take to the stage with confidence and charm ( and sometimes, tears).
It no longer feels unnatural to talk about school admissions and educational boards over dinner at a fancy restaurant, or to play the Frozen soundtrack on loop until its as much your music as your child’s. (I can’t decide if my favourite is When I am older or For the first time in forever!- What’s yours?) Your handbag is always equipped with water and a change of clothes and random knick-knacks and toys, and your car seat pocket has several combs, hairbands and extra school socks. You may be going to a wedding reception with an exhaustive 20-item menu, but you know the idly batter is waiting in the fridge at home just in case the child doesn’t want to eat. And even if no batter, you aren’t so stressed if the child skips dinner one night.
I don’t know when the transition happens, but it happens gradually and does so firmly enough that you can’t picture what life was like before. What was life like when things could be much more spontaneous? What did we do with all those weekends? And week evenings? Did we plan whatever we wanted without worrying about babysitting arrangements? Did I sleep in late all the time?
Planning around a child’s schedule is difficult. But, there is also a greater sense of achievement when you squeeze in a plan that was earlier simple. A movie date with a cousin and making it back just in time for bedtime, a sudden dessert outing with a friend on a weeknight after the child is snoring away peacefully, a breakfast date with the spouse during a one-off Saturday school session, because what is more guilt-free than to chill when the child is at school and you don’t have office?
Travelling with a child is also exhausting, but fulfilling in a way you can’t fully explain. It’s probably the amazement of seeing a little baby who could only cry to express herself confidently asking the waiter to bring her an appam for breakfast, to see her enjoying out a new flavour of ice cream sitting by a beach, to see her experience the wonders of new geographies, new languages and old buildings. And when you travel with a small child, you also are now experiencing the place in a whole new light that you probably only did decades back — before you became ‘too cool’ to do things like going to the zoo or riding a toy train.
There’s of course always more to learn even after you stop being a ‘newbie’ parent, and many more things you have to eliminate from your life that you are not confident enough to attempt. A 10-day trip in Ladakh with remote homestays and zero cellphone network is something I’d forgo for a while. I know that long drives through scenic routes may be more stressful than relaxing, I always know that the chances of getting the luxury of a lazy morning after a late night is quite slim.
And there are so many more unknown experiences to come with their own learning — the pressures of school and academics, the rebellions and fights, the choices and uncertainties. There are always new fears and new hurdles to overcome.
But it does feel momentous to be past the stage of raw fear that you don’t even know how to feed your baby, are terrified that you are holding them the wrong way, are second guessing every little thing you do (Oh no she coughed, did I do something wrong? Am I feeding her enough milk? Should I have massaged her more vigilantly? Did I not try hard enough to ensure the correct length of the nap?)
If anything, as I see more more parents over the years, see many different methods and approaches, various kinds of personalities in both the parents and children, I am more relaxed about the fact that there is no one right way to do this. We’re all learning, we’re all getting better at it, and we’re not doing so badly!
We’re not just the scared new parents on the block. And that right there is progress.
