Mango ice lollies (popsicles)...and working mothers

My capable assistant and me, ready for a day's work!
©Sacred Cow Media Ltd 2012

So much to share! I'm taking a few moments out from working this week to blog. Life has been on warp speed lately with the challenge of keeping two little mites occupied, when it's 113℉ outside!

Mostly we go swimming every afternoon. (Fortunately we have access to a pool.) This week, we also have cratefuls of delicious, ripe mangoes to gorge on! India and mangos feature in some of my fondest childhood memories. I remember, age 4, I spent a year living with my cousins in Jammu. On summer weekends, the entire extended family would picnic on the grassy banks of a canal. Mangos would be tied in a mesh bag and lowered into the frigid, fast-moving water to cool them before slicing the soft, tart, treacly orange flesh. When I'm dead, I'll probably still crave the sensation of scooping out sweet, sticky mango pulp from the tough skin with my teeth!

Yum yum yum.

Yesterday, my 3-year-old, who is now addicted to 'ice lollies' (that's the British equivalent of 'popsicles')... demanded a fourth one after lunch. I've been freezing a little apple juice mixed with water for him and he just sucks and crunches them relentlessly in this heat.

Then I had a brainwave -- mix chopped up mangos with some thick cream and sugar! (Ok, not a brainwave exactly, though I felt pretty clever when I thought of it). So hey, presto, today, he's slurping down homemade mango kulfi-sicles!

(Hang on, he's down for his nap, now's my chance to nab one! Sound of freezer door opening... 'crunch crunch crunch!' Mmmmm... note to self: infuse a little cardamom in the cream before freezing!)

Otherwise on the home front, I'm back to taking on freelance journalism assignments. Mostly, I go off to do interviews while my 3-year-old is at school between 10 and 12 every morning. The little one has only just turned 6 months and is still breast-feeding, so she has to come along. I've strapped her on and taken her into a warren of lanes in Old Delhi to interview the Love Commandos ... rocked her with my feet under the table at a coffee shop while talking to Americans living in India... or left her in the car with the nanny, a/c running full blast while I spoke to man who investigates the thousands of children going missing here every year.

It's a big juggling act. And like most working mothers, I get all kinds of reactions. Mostly, people are incredibly taken with her, and very gracious. For most Indians, children are a completely natural and pleasurable part of everyday life. Hip young men with gelled hair and earrings will go completely cuddly and gooey around a young child. Most probably already have one of their own at home, or if not, then certainly nieces and nephews.
But occasionally, very occasionally, I'm reminded of how unnatural children are for some people.

Yesterday, a rather pompous young man I met at a coffee shop for a quick interview, told me curtly, "You can pick up your baby if you need to." Translation: "Why did you bring your kid with you. I'm finding her presence extremely annoying."

A couple of weeks ago, while corresponding with a new editor for some freelance work, I got this rather terse email:

"Any progress on some story ideas? **** was asking about you and saying you were dependable and professional."

My first inclination was to send back a virtual middle finger. Had the editor been standing in front of me, I think I might have given him a bloody nose. Breathe. Breathe. Ok, he doesn't know me, or my situation (which makes writing such a shitty message even more of a schmucky thing to do).

So I read with huge interest Anne Marie Slaughter's article in the Atlantic Monthly: Why Women Still Can't Have It All (as well as this rejoinder from a widower with two young girls.

Her point about parenting not being as respected as being committed to religion, or sport is pertinent. As is the squeamishness of highlighting family commitments at work. Her comment about a work colleague asking her not to talk about her kids all the time struck a chord, as did her insistence that anyone introducing her ought to mention her two children along with her academic and professional qualifications.

My husband and I were talking about all this... and he pointed out that we've both made very conscious decisions not to have jobs where we are constantly having to choose between work and family. He's right... but it doesn't necessarily make me feel settled. I'm hyper-aware that as a journalist, my profession - while championing parent's working rights and equality in the workplace - is also one of the poorest at implementing these rights. And as a result, I'm now freelancing, rather than working full-time.

Then again, part of the problem here is our obsession with 'having it all'... and how all-encompassing that 'all' has become!

So with that, I'm off to the freezer again, for another homemade mango popsicle!

 

 

Comments

[Alana]

Being a full-time working mother in the US, I completely empathize with your dilemma of trying to accomplish "it all", professionally and personally. The demands on women these days are unrealistic and insurmountable. Though gender equality in the professional arena has brought greatness to our ranks, unfortunately, we are still expected to be supermoms and superwives, and in the end, the one person who gets missed when trying to please everyone, is ourselves. How does one separate worklife and motherhood? You can't. They are not mutually exclusive and others such as employers, clients, customers (and even relatives) can be quite insensitive to that fact. It is a hard struggle every day. There's no way to honey-coat it. Working mothers have it HARD. By the way, your children are so beautiful!

[Anu Anand Hall]

Why golly, thank you! My hats off to you for being a full-time working mother, especially in the US, where you might have better infrastructure, but in some ways that makes your life even harder! Seriously, I don't know how any woman can juggle work and children without full-time domestic help and a lot of time off. (Well, I do, but you're right, there's no way to honey-coat it, it is damn tough!)

I think about it everyday... I do think Anne-Marie Slaughter has a point in that we woman have it drilled into us that if we're 'committed' enough, we will achieve things people tell us are worth achieving -- mostly in the career category. That I have happy, well-adjusted children and am looking after myself -- as well as working! -- is not something I feel I'm allowed to trumpet to prospective employers... and that is a shame, because it's valuable experience.

Keep on truckin' sister! And thanks for leaving a comment! Good to know someone's actually reading this thing!!

[Alana]

I discovered Sacred Cows through your hubby's Vish Puri site (great fan, btw). And now, I love your blog! Oh yes, I agree with your sentiment that it is unfortunate that our skills as ultimate multi-taskers is not more lauded and résumé-worthy!

[Anu Anand Hall]

Thank you Alana!! I'm afraid I can't offer much in the way of literary stimulation, but glad you're enjoying my random musings!

[Laxmi N. Gupta]

Delighted to read your blog. Just happened to borrow The Case of deadly Butter Chicken. Started researching the author and found your blog. Read your post on the heart warming story of Rajiv and Madhuri. Several years ago my wife's niece married a Thakur. We happen to be Banias. There was opposition but was overcome. As both families lived near Delhi and were well-educated, things turned out OK.

Laxmi N. Gupta

[Anu Anand Hall]

Dear Laxmi, thanks! And glad to hear there wasn't too much opposition. Tarquin and I had to overcome some pretty bitter family opinions too so I can relate. And glad you enjoyed Rajvir and Madhuri's story-- a very brave and lovely couple!