Togetherness

Tomato and onion dhal

So a very different post today. I need to keep it real for myself, and right now, that looks like being…well, vulnerable. And all that accompanies being vulnerable.

Two weeks ago, the kids went back online. My littles are 9 and 5, in grades 4 and 1 respectively. Today (Sunday the 30th of January as I wrote this part of the post), the uni my husband and I work at went back online.  So once again, every room in the house is a classroom. And my husband and I are part-time elementary school teachers when we’re not teaching our own classes. A whole lot of back and forth. The older little is absolutely self-reliant – already helps me with my tech issues, always slightly incredulously. The younger…well, can’t expect a 5-year old to manage by herself.

So it feels an awful lot like two years ago. Except it isn’t. It’s two years later.

The past two years have seen a whole hell of a lot of guilt from me. And I know I am not alone in this feeling. Guilt for not doing enough, either for home, or for work. Guilt in not doing enough for the kids – after all, they are the ones who are suffering more, right? Right? Guilt for the almost constant fatigue. Even after a good night’s sleep. And guilt over having the luxury to feel guilty: we are SO incredibly fortunate. And for me, guilt over wanting time for myself. Even a little.  This is a hard one for me.

And what are the sources of guilt? Well first and foremost, the togetherness. I am tired of so much togetherness; it is relentless. And bloody hell, even admitting it makes me feel shitty. I wanted children, always have. But in 2009, I was 37, single, with significant problems with my uterus. Didn’t exactly bode well for the potential for offspring. At that time, I pretty much made peace with the fact that I wasn’t and wouldn’t be a mother. The universe clearly thought otherwise. Little number one came when I was 40, and little two made her arrival when I was 44.

And to say they are the joy of my life would truly be an understatement. I won’t wax eloquent over that anymore – no need. I began my first post for this project almost six months ago, describing myself, first and foremost, as a mum. And I am.

And there have been times over the past couple of years when I have felt really good as a mum; the younger little’s teacher emailing parents a list of possible non-screen activities, and realizing I’d done them all, and many, many more. That made me feel pretty good. To have both kids, absolutely unprompted, tell me time and time again that they love me; the older little peeping his head out of the book he is totally engrossed in suddenly to say I love you; the younger looking up from whatever art project she is working on, again, totally engrossed, and always covered in glitter or glue or both; ma, I love you, ma, I love you. And the entire house always looks like one giant art project. And that is so fantastic.

But there have been more times when I have felt…well, less good. Times I have yelled at the bewildered kids about simply needing a minute. Yeah, there have been plenty of those. And somehow needing a minute to myself, in my head, negates my love for them. The story I tell myself. And I know I’m not alone in telling or living that story.

And that is the main source of guilt: A mother shouldn’t need space for herself. This is a luxury, one that a woman relinquishes when she becomes a mum. This feeling, belief, partly stems, I think, from being a woman and how women are socialized. Irrespective of culture. But it also does stem from my culture, my upbringing. What the heck do I need time to myself for? Or, how can I possibly justify having time for myself? Get real, how many mums do you know who have the luxury to even think about time says the voice in my head. Mums simply don’t have the luxury of time to themselves. That’s entirely self-indulgent. And how can I not be grateful for all the togetherness - it doesn’t last long. Oh, I know there’s a good bit of martyrdom in there (which I can laugh at, sometimes), the sources of which are both familial and cultural – I’d love to explore the cultural aspect of that someday. Maybe another post.

And over the past two years (way longer, actually, but they’ve come to the forefront in the past two) numerous articles about the importance of self-care or self-help have come down the pike – usually on some newsfeed. And I have typically experienced the entire gamut of emotions in reaction to these – self-pity, envy, longing, incredulity, dismissiveness, but most of all, anger: don’t you think I don’t know the importance of self-care? Despite my cultural upbringing? But who the hell has the time for it? And yes, there’s that martyrdom rearing its head again.

And somewhere along the way, I have actually been able to somewhat internalize the message in some of the self-help articles, the message that I am best for my kids when I do take care of myself, even a little bit. And I have tried to do something about it. I have tried painting. For the first time in my life. Quite proud, I am, of my efforts. I am now trying sketching.

And then….there’s this project. This project is a result of my needing time for myself. Because it does, above all, give me the space to “change rooms in my mind” (from a poem by Hafiz, and a line (even if it isn’t for a day) that has resonated with me on more than one occasion). Through the project, I allow myself space, I am realizing, most often just mental space, away from my usual thoughts, most of which center around my children’s needs; space – even if it is mere moments - eked out during the course of a busy day – I do a whole lot of thinking before I put pen to paper.

Funny. Given that I began this project by my describing myself as a mother, first and foremost, I have, over the past six months, often wondered why I haven’t focused any of my posts on my children specifically. And this week, as I cried about the once again greatly increased togetherness, I realized that, even outside of work, I do need to be more than a mother and wife. And, it doesn’t have to be all or nothing.

And this is what keeping it real for myself this week looks like. And taking other small steps. Like stealing away for a few minutes during our camping trip last weekend – even if it was to take a picture of the kids from afar. Or tuning out, for a moment, from what the children or husband are saying for just a moment to think about one sentence for this piece of writing.

And not judging myself for not being a sociolinguist in this post.

And maybe even the writing of this is self-indulgent. But I keep it real.

Our camping trip last weekend, in the stunning mountains of Oman

And given that the kids are central to this week’s ruminations, the recipe for this week is one that they particularly like – one that I have modified to suit their palates. A recipe for a very simple Indian dhal, dhal with tomatoes and onions.

Now ordinarily, I wouldn’t puree the cooked tomato and onion mixture, allowing for a more chunky dhal. But when I make it for my littles, I do puree it – makes the veg much more palatable, and makes the whininess, well, non-existent. Which is everything.

So here’s a simple tomato and onion dhal, a very simple tadka dhal.

Tomato and Onion Dhal

Ingredients (serves 3-4); vegan, vegetarian, gluten-free

1.     ½ cup toor dhal (yellow lentils) or 3/4 cup of masoor dhal (orange lentils)

2.     1.5-2 cups of water

3.     ½ tsp ground turmeric

4.     2/3  cup finely diced onion

5.     1 cup finely diced tomatoes or 3/4 cup of crushed tomatoes.

6.     ½ cup water

7.     1 green chili, diced (or more or less, to taste)

8.     3 tbsp vegetable or sunflower oil

9.     1 tsp cumin seeds

10.  1.5 tsp salt

11.  ½ cup chopped coriander (optional)

Method:

1.     Rinse the toor dhal a couple of times and then soak it in 2 cups of boiling water. Let it soak for 30 minutes. If you are using masoor dhal, go straight to step 2 and boil the dhal in two cups of water after rinsing it.

2.     Boil the dhal. Add ½ tsp of turmeric to the soaked dhal (or rinsed masoor dhal) and boil it on a medium flame with a lid partly on. This prevents the water from boiling over. And if it does boil over, oh well. Get used to it. Happens all too often! Sigh, and clean the stove when you are done. Cooking the dhal should take about 15 minutes for masoor dhal, and about 30 minutes for the soaked toor dhal. Make sure the dhal doesn’t run out of water as it is cooking - add more if you need it. For Indian dhals, the lentils should be completely boiled – and have no bite.

3.     Heat oil in a skillet and when it is hot, add the cumin seeds. They should splutter. If they don’t, wait till they do. Now add the onions and chili and sauté on a low-medium heat for about 6 minutes, stirring a couple of times. The onions should turn translucent but not brown. While cooking the onions, make sure somebody comments on how good the house smells – then you know you’re doing it right! You’ll notice that there is garlic in the picture of the ingredients - feel free to use a couple of cloves and put them in (chopped) at the same time as the onions. I decided for this version, to keep it absolutely simple.

4.     Add the tomatoes to the sauteed onions. Add the salt and ½ cup water. Put a lid on an allow to stew on low-medium for about 10 minutes, again, stirring a couple of times. You’re looking for the tomatoes to be completely soft and mushy. Now here is where I puree the veg mixture for my kids - using an immersion blender. If you don’t have fussy kids, skip the pureeing.

5.     Now add the stewed tomatoes and onions to the cooked dhal and cook together for about 5-7 minutes. The final consistency should be a slightly thick stew. If it is too thin, continue cooking to thicken a bit. If it is too thick, add a bit of water and cook for a couple of minutes.

6.     Add the chopped coriander and serve with bread or rice. Or eat as a soup. I served mine this week with rice and a side of South Indian green beans - which is a recipe for a future post.

Note: My final product in the picture below is reddish, redder than it usually is. This is because of the incredibly red fresh tomatoes I used from our garden. If your final product is more yellow, don’t worry; the color depends on the quality of your tomatoes.