in the beginning

Being Dips – On a Sunday
By Deepanjolie Sonya Figg

Being Dips is being a fulltime freelance writer-editor and deciding to keep weekends non-working (writing-wise) but ending up raising the bar, so we can add to savings.

Being Dips on a Sunday means only considering to take on assignments on a Sunday, but ending up going through the whole rigmarole of answering mails, queries, sending quotations, feeling torn between being fulltime Mommy instead of just ‘piece-meal’ (like I am on weekdays. Though Donovan’s too small to know any difference, thankfully, and doesn’t have much interaction with other kids who have stay-at-home mommies that do not hold down another career apart from Home Manager, so I’m safe for now, methinks).

Yes, I did break my own rule today about not thinking of business and ended up spending half the day working out which enquiries were worth a follow-up and a trial run. What can I say? – Old habits die hard; old workaholics just work harder at them.

So, now Being Dips on a Sunday and just Being Dips is only different in activities that are done: between a tight writing schedule and chewing pencils, endless cuppas’ tea - to keep the creative juices flowing and myself from turning bleary-eyed - I can be banked upon to spontaneously ramble off on for a hike, impromptu camping trip, find out where that enchanted floral-pebbled mountain trail leads to (the one right above the spring-water source near the government school), look wistfully at the rustic getaway plan I have folded and creased over 297times, and that’s just this year - and I did all this today besides embroidering - for all of 10 minutes - that bed and bath linen project incomplete from so long ago, besides sewing those half-done sundry gifts for friends and family and seeking out some old and new friends and acquiring books in the same manner!

Being Dips on a Sunday translates into there being more time for tuning into Country music from an online radio station (we don’t have TV), going through our frugal collection of CD music-to-lounge by, like instrumental-guitars, piano and panpipes; also catching the odd animated movie coz Being Dips on a Sunday brings me in that festive, familial and warm, ‘cozy-cot’ feel (my pal, Mansi’s, connotation to a lazy, comfy and incredibly snuggle-bug emotion) that makes a slow day seem like a bare-foot waltz in the clouds – and somehow cartoons are best viewed with little companions, of which I have one, who laughs out loud, with nary a fear, at the silliest scenes possible that it’s impossible not to give in to the carefree-ness of the moment – and giggle childishly along too.

Being Dips on a Sunday is of course mostly remembering to do things that a little 4-yr old likes to do: (I just draw the line at picking earthworms (‘kitaulas’ in native-speak Kumaoni-talk, I’m told by the imp – he’s been learning from the house help apparently) with a toothpick and wriggling my toes in puddles) keeping his joy constant by indulging him in that one story-time tale that develops into ‘one more, please,’ and then another and yet another – and before I know it, I’ve lost count of how many favorites were re-told and new ones made up coz our minds wandered off along the path of “what if this didn’t happen and something else did…” ..

Being Dips on a Sunday is also trying to keep my temper off the boil just coz my little man is discovering the joys of 'How does this work' and 'What is that' in between learning to skate on really hot wheels (cool shoes that have hidden roller wheels on them – when I was a kid, we had those klunky metal skates that sometimes even the plentiful screws couldn’t keep in proper alignment! Not fair…I want a re-fund on my childhood!!).

The blessing dawns slowly on to me: that I have to do it all with him, without being a grumpy grown-up and wanting some ‘Me-time’ all the time – and that the little chap considers it a privilege to share that ‘little person time’ with me, a full-fledged grown-up – at least his praise-awaiting eyes seem to say so!

Being Dips on a Sunday is counting more than one my blessings, including a son that questions so much and completely drains me out and then makes me a newspaper necklace that he calls ‘a blessing’ (to keep me safe – guess he remembered that from the holy charm I was trying to put on him last week since he was falling sick so often) and makes funny, squiggly motions with his fingers over my head:

“Whazzat??” I ask, without looking up from typing off a thought.

“It’s love – from my heart – sometimes you look so sad.”

And he’s indeed pinching somewhere around his lungs to get me a fistful of it too: I can’t help but laugh, “I’m not sad,” I explain; “I’m tired.”

“What’s that?” he asks, all round-eyed and focused on doing something about it, like taking me for a spin around the lake on his skates!

“What’s that, really?!” I wonder myself.

It’s just the feeling that comes before you know someone really loves you –even when you mess up your make-up, surf the net and say you’re working so don’t disturb, insist on cleaning the bed of crumbs when you know he’s having so much fun building blocks, scattering toys and spreading children’s books all over your linen…

And feeling tired is what goes away when you find (together) that “Happy Place” to eat biscuits and roll in the grass in, and take along the newspaper to have a slow read on a lazy afternoon and find that better than any expensive roller-coaster ride, is origami-ing it up to make paper sail-boats!!

Being Dips on a Sunday is learning how to love…Just Sunday-ing, too!

This page last updated on 01 September 2008