It’s that time of the year again.
“When is Mother’s Day again?”
“What do you want for Mother’s Day?”
“Where would you like to go for Mother’s Day?”
“What do you want to eat for Mother’s Day?”
There’s a couple of other variations that pop out ever so often and the stores have been roaring with ‘Mother’s Day specials’ for about a month now, right down to 30% off toenail clippers. Which no mother wants! I’m speaking for all mothers.
This will be my 22nd year celebrating this event. If you have more than 1 child, I think the ages of both children must be combined to give a true reflection of how many years you have actually been a mother. When have you ever heard any mother say, “All my kids are exactly the same!”
My logic is you have to re-invent yourself, adapt, learn, research, develop and find new ways in which to be a good mother with every child you have. Thus – the ages of all your children combined equals the number of years you have mothered.
Happy 39th to me. I’m 1 month short of 40.
You never stop parenting. No matter how old you get, no matter how old your kid/s get, there’s some aspect of their lives that require you to put on your parent hat!
I consulted with Molly Ma (my friend’s mum in KZN) who has had 7 daughters. She agrees with my theory. Which makes her a mother for 386 years. Give that lady a carat! Not the one you grate to make salad to go with biryani.
She says, and I’m sure you will agree, “You parent each child differently.”
My roots as a mother run deep into Phoenix, growing up with a single mother and many other Indian aunties parenting you whether your own mother was there or not. If you grew up in any sort of township you know that it was a special kind of place.
You also know what’s coming next. You didn’t have to wait for your own mother to discipline you if you misbehaved. There was every likelihood the neighbour aunty would klap you over the head for misbehaving. She would calmly proceed to feed you roti and beans curry to make up for it. If the uncle of the house happened to be home early, he would join you at the table and shake his head in utter disbelief as the aunty proceeded to tell him every painstaking detail about your failure to behave as expected. Later, when your mother returned from work, said aunty would lean over the back wall to relate in graphic detail what you did and round 2 of the discipline would start.
You learned to cook at a young age out of necessity. Very few mothers had the privilege of staying at home to take care of the family. Taking care meant earning an income which contributed to the household. The female children got assigned kitchen duties. The male children got gardening and fix it up duties.
You learned to clean your own house because very few people in that township could afford a ‘helper’. I say maid. Not helper. That is a recognized profession in most countries and the maid has a job. She is not helping out of the goodness of her heart voluntarily. She gets paid a salary. You can disagree. And you would be wrong.
You learned to problem solve. If the geyser conked out, you better make a plan to boil some water on the stove and get it up to the bathroom and be bathed and changed before your mother got home because a bust geyser was no excuse for uncleanliness.You washed and ironed your own clothes. Yes. HAND WASHED, all your clothes because most people in the township could not afford a washing machine.
You learned to walk or take public transport to where you needed to be. You knew how to shop for groceries, buy UP TO DATE potatoes (or else) and which were the correct tomatoes to make a proper chutney (jam tomatoes of course). Pffffft, no real Indian makes chutney with salad tomatoe.
You wore hand me down clothes and it didn’t come from an Intsagrammble or TikTok activity like “thrifting.” Religious organisations, in my case, the church, was always coming round with a bag of clothes that someone else was getting rid of and you got to shop out of that black garbage bag for things that suited your underdeveloped fashion sense.
You had no pocket money, but you had to find a way to give people gifts for special occasions. Like Mother’s Day! You soon learned to be thrifty and wise and squirrel away a few rands so you would not be the one the neighbourhood was talking about who didn’t even give their mother anything for Mother’s Day.
You were respectful and had manners. You knew how to offer guests something to drink or eat if they popped in when your parents were not home yet.
You knew how to manage a household before you were 12 years old.
If you had more than one sibling, you also got to parent your siblings whether you were older or not. Because if one of you stepped out of line, you were all going to get it. By get it, I mean a proper dealing with a belt across your butt or a random shoe taken off a foot and used as a tool of discipline.
It’s hard to escape those roots. I carry traces of it with me to this day. I became that Indian aunty who we all dreaded growing up.
I am not shy to discipline someone else’s child if I see them going off track. Yes. If you’re in my circle, your mother gonna be told when you post idiotic things on socials and you will have to take it down. Your mother gonna get a call if I see you hanging around with an unsavory boy. Your mother gonna be told, “That so and so is a bad influence you better not let your one hang out with it.”
I expect the same from my friends. They have carte blanche in dealing with my children if they spot nonsense going on.
I am the one packing bags of clothes to give away. At the time I hated it, but now realise how giving can impact someone else’s life. My fashion sense has improved a lot!
I cook for others. I STILL go hunting for UTD potatoes, because as the old folk will say, “Who told her move to a white area where you can’t find one up to date potatoe?”
Don’t be making a chops chutney with salad tomatoes and expecting me not to know those were not jam tomatoes. I WILL KNOW.
These days when the geyser conks out, wellllll I can shower at the gym BUT, there have been a few episodes where Roland has had to heat water on the stove and the girls had to ‘bucket bath’ instead of shower.
One of them tried to convince us she was ok not showering for a day. It did not work.
I handwash my mats, knitwear and my shoes that are washable. Although, I do log a call to the laundry service to do some people’s ironing (I won’t mention names) Me? I still iron or steam my own clothes.
I am THAT Indian aunty.
Looking back, it’s weird that I remember all these shenanigans fondly. At the time, all I wanted to do was grow up, earn some money and get out. Sitting here writing this, I wish I could misbehave so someone would shout at me, sit me at their table and feed me a meal, so I don’t have to cook!
My children’s lives have been completely different. They have had the benefit of having both parents present. They have a father who gives them love, attention and stability, They have also been spoiled rotten.
Yes, the guilty party is me. Roland too!
In our haste to not have them ‘suffer’ through what we did growing up, we have twisted ourselves into unrecognizable shapes just to give them a ‘better’ life.
We are not alone in this phenomenon. You have done it too.
We want them to escape the hardships we had so we solve all their problems for them. I have failed to teach them to be money-wise. They don’t know how to run a household. They might go missing if I let them take public transport for more than one day. If you came to my home and I wasn’t there, they might offer you filtered water to drink but don’t think you will get samoosas fried for you and a cup of steaming coffee to go with it. You will hold your breath forever. They might also mix up mashing potaotes with chipping potatoes in a mutton curry and if I asked them to go out and buy UTD potatoes, they will phone me to tell me there is no such thing at the shops.
I am expecting a gift from one child because I chose it and she paid for it. The other one? Hmmmmm maybe a chocolate? As usual, Roland solved their problems for them and I have my gifts already.
It’s ok. I got a lifetime of mothering to do! I might be able to salvage and fix some stuff as I go along. Fortunately, my circle has some Indian aunties too.
Where I fail, you can rest assured they will step in and take over. It’s a win-win and you will hear no complaints from this Indian aunty.
- We remember Jean and Mavis. Tough cookies who produced even tougher children. *