A friend walked in, to have coffee, her house also is empty by 8 and so is mine. So sometimes, we catch up for our little tete-a-tete over coffee. Talking about coffee, I have turned the American way, I now prefer black coffee to white. Well, the first cuppa is with milk.
Her mum is an amazing baker; she had sent some homemade peanut butter cookies. So, my neighbor was generous enough to get some for me.

I made the famous South Indian filter coffee, and we plonked ourselves on the couch. She seemed a little disturbed, so after a lot of prodding, she finally asked me if I thought she was obsessive about being perfect. So I instantly said “Yes!”

And she was shocked, she said how could I have known that about her, as I have known her only for few months. So I laughingly pointed out at certain incidents and told her that I have a penchant for observing people and their mannerisms, and I can’t help it. We laughed, then she asked, but what’s wrong in doing things perfectly? I told her nothing, it’s just that in the process of doing everything ‘perfectly’, we become paranoid. I said I love certain things in a particular manner, for instance, keeping things in its right place, no wet towels on the bed blah blah……But, I have a 9 year old kid in my house, and a husband, who are always in a hurry – All the time!

Earlier I used to fret, fight with my husband, for leaving the kitchen dirty after his stint there to cook something,

forgetting to put the towel on the rack, leaving the socks sometimes in the shoes, etc. etc. But, then, thanks to a friend, who happens to know me since class 8^th, pointed out what I was doing. I was basically ruining the harmony of my house, the fun, the laughter, everything. On one hand, I had always dreamt of father and kid bonding over cooking, or playtime in the house, and when I was finally living that dream, I cribbed about things which were not worth fighting for. When I pulled myself back, I noticed how both of them had started cleaning up the place after their activity. Maybe all these days, they didn’t do it because I used to intervene and make life miserable.I wanted my kiddo to be independent, choose his clothes, wear it on his own, but when he did, instead of appreciating, I chided him for spoiling the arrangement in the cupboard, without realizing that he is a kid after all.

I just didn’t look or appreciate the efforts of others in my house, and became a nag. I always used to wonder, why would a parent keep a cookie jar out of a child’s reach and later complain that he broke it. Unknowingly, I was doing the same; it was not a ‘cookie jar’ per say, but metaphorically, lot of other stuff. After an evening with friends and kids, I would insist that my son cleans up the room, before he retires for the night, no matter how tired he was, grudgingly, the li’l fellow would do it. And I would give him ‘gyaan’ on how to do things happily.

My friend pointed out saying, how will there be a happy feeling to it if he is not given his space and freedom to do it? She said, don’t let him get away with the mess, but, at the same time, give him the night if he is asking for it. Tell him, that he should do it the next day, and then watch him do it happily. Surprisingly, it WORKED, when I faced a similar situation.

She asked me to just sit and reflect, what is it that I really wanted? Who is it that I want to prove a point to? For whom am I doing everything? For myself or for others? I sat with a notepad, and jotted down everything. When I did, I noticed, how the list was full of my wants, it didn’t have space for the other two important members in my house. I felt miserable, while pacing my house with my head full of guilt, I walked up to my book shelf, and noticed the “Don’t sweat the small stuff” book. I remembered reading it once. With guilt in my head, and tears in my eyes, I looked at the list, struck off everything, and under “What I want” I wrote – happiness and harmony.

That day, before I picked up my child, I bought the pizza base, and cheese, and fulfilled his dream of baking a pizza on his own, without bothering about the mess because at the time of cleaning up, my son was the first to bring the cleaning sponge, that too willingly and happily.

I know quite a few friends, who don’t like to entertain people, as they don’t want to mess up their house, who taunt the other mums, when their kids play with the host’s kids and mess up the toy room. I know people, who can’t retire for the night, without washing the vessels, while cursing the friends who came over, and had a nice time. It took me a while to understand that somewhere I was heading in the same direction.

Now, I don’t worry about anything. I do my job, only because it makes me happy. On weekends, I do not dust. I give myself a break, I enjoy the breakfast, cooked by my big and little chef, put my feet up and relax. I involved people in my chores, life became easy.

It’s not worth it. Every nook and corner will sparkle in your house, except the eyes of your kids. I do not fret over anything now. I realized people who pass judgment on others houses, are very unhappy and frustrated people. They have nothing to look forward to in their lives, and they make others lives miserable by passing on their negativity.

After sharing these instances and more with my friend, I felt better and so did she. I said, I am ‘perfectly’ happy being ‘flawed’, I still have a clean house, clean bed, clean kitchen and now when the cupboard gets messed up, I genuinely notice the combination my son has picked up instead of the drawers or shelves, and he on his part, takes everything out slowly. I now don’t grumble for a wet towel on the bed, or crumbs on the floor.

I take it easy now. And there is a sparkle in the eyes also. 

(Sketch by Roshni Tharian, Illustrator at OoWomaniya.com)