B'coz mom says so...

Should I feel guilty about this long silence? My last post was more than a month ago. It's no sin, especially since I had vowed that I wouldn't be blogging just to keep up the 'a-post-a-day' promise. Will write only when I feel like it. Read a few interesting posts in the past few days, and maybe somewhere it inspired me to write. This may not exactly have a theme or a topic, just some thoughts.

Today, as a mother, I often surprise myself with my words and actions. Many things that I tell my little boy make me pause and think: "hey haven't I heard that somewhere before!". Soon, I realise that it's just what my mom had told me during my younger days. I swear it's not intentional, but some things are so etched in our minds that we end up repeating it, without quite realising it.I can clearly remember how terrified my mom was whenever she saw kids being fed while they're lying down. I sense the same fear in my mind when I see kids do it. Amma never fancied little boys wearing shirts or cute little girls paraded in salwar kurtis. She always found t-shirts cuter, and always liked girls to be dressed in tiny frocks and skirts. I feel just the same. I shrug at the many shirts gifted to my son: some (like a friend aptly described) are so stiff that it can stand on it own, some that come with pokey pokey glitters all over that will promptly cling on to your face or hands the minute you try it on. I have so many memories of my mother screaming and making a huge fuss when she saw me or any other kid play with tiny things (tiny here is defined as anything that could possible be downed their throats with a little effort from the kids). I always thought she was over-reacting and being overly fussy. She still freaks out when my little boy plays with broken pieces of toys, or paper or worse rubber bands or balloon bits. But I no longer frown at her, not after my son almost swallowed a magnet! (Let's not get into that....whew!).

It's not just kids' matters...their preferences in a lot of other things too have impacted me. My father disliked the colour 'yellow' (for reasons best known to him) and my mom had a strong dislike for navy blue.Until recently my wardrobe had no traces of yellow or navy blue. Must confess that yellow has now found place in my 'favourite colours' list: vibrant, bright, sunny, floral, fruity...so many emotions and moods that I associate with yellow. Navy blue, though, hasn't yet charmed me.
Once I started cooking, I once againd found my decisions being influenced a lot by my mother's methods and habits. It may seem funny but I insist on using the Prestige pressure cooker. I have nothing against Hawkins or any other brand, but my mom's used Prestige for as long as I can remember and it in some way makes me more confident about my cooking! (well...you may see no logic in it). Of course, I have fallen for the tempting looks of the Futura brand and own one too...but in the past five years have never once used it. Am not sure it's something to be proud of, it's only my superstition that 'my cooking tastes best when done mom's way'.
The way I stir food, the way I make my dough, roll it, the way I clean or chop certain vegetables, the pattern I follow in adding ingredients...have all been influenced my mother's methods.

 Funny, but whenever I look at the number plate of a vehicle, I automatically find myself adding up the numbers. Blame it on my mom for I've seen her doing it for years! It could be an autorickshaw or a BMW; we sometimes play a game of it too. The way I (try to) sing certain songs have been influenced by mom. [While dad's humming has helped us learn how not to sing a song!]. My tastes in music, movies, flowers, fragrances...have a lot to do with my mother's interests. Beads, bangles, chains...she introduced me to the bright, funky world of jewellery.
What's best is that we both share almost similar taste in men! Most often we end up going 'wow' at the same person; just that my 'wow' has a more 'how-I wish-I-could-befriend-him' tone while amma's is strictly 'appreciating a thing of beauty' wow. I must add here that she turns to a typical over-concerned mom when her daughter grows too fond of the boy/man. She was far from approving of many of my choices!
There are many more things in my life--some serious, some funny, some strange--that turned out the way it did because somewhere my parents' choices/preferences have impacted me.

PS: And yes, she loved my tattoo!!!