Life's Trivialities

Migrate

2010-07-31T16:47:00.000-07:00

I have finally caught the 'wordpress' bug. Not sure if it is going to make a whale of a difference but am willing to give it a shot. The new address is

http://sukanyabora.wordpress.com/

Still need to work out some kinks but do visit and leave a comment on the new look!

Different

2010-07-30T15:25:00.000-07:00

We know our true friends when we are in the dumps. In my case and for most of you, this was perhaps one of the many hard lessons we learned growing up.

Now that I am a mom, I can confidently add, we know our kids when we are unwell. But in a good, comforting way.

I had a health setback last night. With soreness coupled with excruciating pain and restricted movement, it wasn’t pretty. I did what I do best when I am indisposed. I groaned, moaned and whined! The kids, seeing their mother’s despair (read melodrama), went into action, in their own distinct ways.

A, my 3 year old got the sofa ready so I could rest my injured leg. She brought me cups of water and at some point even a cookie while constantly asking me, is you pain better now, mama?

On the other hand, D, her older brother, sat afar with a frowned forehead, observing me and his sister closely. Concerned he was going to bawl, I asked what’s the matter, sweetie? I don’t like to see you like this, was the reply I got. He sat away from all the activity until I proceeded to get in bed. He jumped right in with me, gave me a tight hug and said Mama, I love you. I am sorry you are in pain. Please get well soon. Hugging me tight, he laid next to me, the warmth and love of his embrace giving me the strength to fight the paralyzing pain.

Two little people with different modus operandi. One a pragmatic, ‘hands on’, commonsensical doer who scurried into action the minute something went awry. The other, laid back yet sensitive and emotional, contributed in a way he saw fit.

This uniqueness, no matter how often I witness, always amazes me. In some instances, it is very subtle but more often than not, the nuances are simply there in front of me, reminding me of the intricacies of human behavior.

PS: BTW, setback was a severe muscle pull while playing badminton. I brought it upon myself-didnt warm up enough before I plunged into the game. Much better now although the soreness continues to be there. Will take maybe another day or so to recover fully.

D's New Project

2010-07-25T18:58:00.000-07:00

My 6 year old has decided to keep a diary. He picked up a 'spongebob squarepants' (one of his many favorite characters) themed notebook this afternoon at the mall. Unsure of its usefulness to him, I had asked him to reconsider his choice and perhaps get something else. But he was adamant about this tiny notebook. When I asked him what he was going to do with it, he promptly said, I will write, mama.

He stayed up past his bedtime to pencil in his very first entry. The inspiration for it was the fun filled weekend he enjoyed with his cousin. Presenting you the very first write -up in 'D's Journey Book'. Yes, he decided to call it something special settling for the aforementioned name.

Do check out the "heart". Nothing short of PRECIOUS!

Pleased with his first entry, he informed me, mama, I will try and write every day, so when this book gets filled up, I can read my writings.
I hope I can help him sustain this new interest and get him to journal regularly. If we can keep this up, who knows, we may soon have another Bora blogger making the rounds in the blogosphere.

Closeness

2010-07-23T08:35:00.000-07:00

* They put on their costumes, pretend to be fairies, princesses and superheroes at the crack of dawn. If they had their way, they would stay awake all night long.

* They follow each other all over the house like little lost lambs, mostly the brother leading his two younger sisters, devising games, making plans only decipherable to them.

* No matter how different their cores are, they giggle, laugh, cry, whine, scream in unison making the rest of us admire their seamless, uncomplicated existence.

Yes, folks, kids fest is on at the Bora household. After much anticipation and waiting, cousin A is finally here and nothing can put a damper on their collective spirit, vigor and boundless energy. They don’t see each other often but when they do, it’s like they were never apart-such is the closeness they share. And I hope this closeness is able to withstand some of life’s inescapable twists and turns, becomes stronger, more meaningful over the years.

The Workings of a Toddler Mind

2010-07-21T16:15:00.000-07:00

Rice (Bhaat) is a staple in the Bora household. We call ourselves 'Khaati Axomiya'(pure assamese) - the ‘Bhotua’(Bhaat=Bhotua) types. Hubby Dear, especially, enjoys it thoroughly. He gets restless if he doesn’t get to eat rice for more than three days.

Then there is A. His sweet, adamant daughter. She hates rice, to the point that even when a morsel is placed in her mouth, she pretends to gag. They are lot of things she and Hubby dear have in common, down to the looks, but this one, clearly, is not one of them.

She falls apart the minute I say, we are going to have rice and dal tonight. Her usual retort is, oh no, mama, I don’t want dinner, with her tiny hand clamping her mouth. And believe me when I say its takes might to pry that hand off her.

For the past few weeks, she has been complaining of headaches. So much so that it got us concerned. Yesterday, Hubby dear took her to the doctor for an evaluation. The pediatrician couldn’t detect anything but told us to carefully observe her going forward. If she continues with her complaints, we'd have to consult a neurologist, which I hope, will not be necessary. Seriously.

She comes back home thrilled after a visit to her favorite place. Yes, she is still in the -oh-I –love-to go-to-the-doctors-I –get-stickers-and –lollipop phase. I decide to tell her how eating ‘good nutritious food’ is an ideal way to deal with the headaches.

You know sweetie, this is the very reason I tell you not to eat junk food. I say, sounding overly patronizing.

But I lurve junk food, mama. I love cheeps, cookies, carrots (thank God!), grape-ees,(thank god!) cereal, bread (thank God!), candy (Bah!) BUT I DON’T LIKE RICE! And you know what mama?

What?

The doctor told me yesterday that I should NOT eat rice. That it is the rice that is making my head hurt, mama!

What? Did she really say that? I ask, believing her.

Well, almost. Yes, my 3 year old trickster-in-the-making almost fools me into thinking that ‘rice’ is the culprit, the cause of the headaches. The sucker that I am. I am completely blown away at how her 3 year old mind works.

Til' September

2010-07-19T10:02:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday, Hubby Dear and I checked out Til’ September, a rock band at a local biker bar. They were a.w.e.s.o.m.e. After a seemingly long time, heard a local band of high caliber with a great vocalist and talented musicians. They played a couple of sets with a good mix of classic and contemporary rock and closed the night with the quintessential Doors classic-Roadhouse Blues with almost everyone on the dance floor.

Most of the band members with the exception of the keyboardist belonged to the armed forces lending to the band's uniqueness. The vocalist, Scott, an army major by the day is Hubby Dear’s colleague. The keyboardist, a stay-at-home dad graduated with a degree in music. And oh boy, did he rock? With his fingers flying on the keys and strong back-up vocals, he was a treat to watch. Some of the proceeds (donations and tips) were collected for “Freedom Alliance”, a support organization for kids who lost a parent or parents to the war.

Great music for a greater cause.

I could not stop my feet from tapping to their music and eventually got pulled on to dance by a spunky, carefree middle aged woman who was a fixture on the floor.
The bar was unlike others I have been to. This was a place right next to a highway, a joint we sometimes crossed and were suspicious of. The minute we stepped onto the entrance, we were partially greeted by 'smokers', stealing a few drags in between their drinks. Although the crowd on the night of the show is somewhat diverse, its patrons are mostly heavy duty bikers on Harleys and mean looking Bullets, dressed up in their leathery gears from boots to head bands. There was this woman dancing provocatively and flashing intermittently to the men around her and at the far end, was a group of old ladies, quietly sipping their alcohol and swaying themselves to the music. By old, I mean old. Really. The beauty of this dichotomy was that everything seemed normal, nothing was out of the ordinary, everyone was groovin’. I shuddered to think about the scene these exact circumstances would create in a place like Delhi.

It was a far cry from a high end bar, devoid of the bells and whistles but it wasn't sleazy. It had a simple lay out, regular tables and chairs filling up most of the area leaving a very tiny space for the band and its equipment. The actual bar took up most of its space and I have to admit, I was mighty pleased with their restrooms. They were surprisingly clean and well kept! They had a food menu which we didn’t try since we had filled ourselves up with a sumptuous sushi dinner before getting there. Hubby Dear was content with the big bottle of Kirin he polished at the Japanese restaurant. I wanted to drink some more though I was doubtful if this place would serve anything else other than beer and hard liquor. But the friendly server in somewhat shabby clothes surprised me with a glass of Shiraz.

With a solid band performing, interesting company (people watching can be so engrossing!), I’d be damned if I asked for more. All along while listening to Scott belt out some classics and alternative stuff, I couldn’t help but think of my brother and his band. His singing and range were quite similar to my brother’s and made me reminiscent of all the gigs my brother’s band performed at and how proud, almost snootily, I was to be the rocker's sister. I tell ya, those were the days!

The show ended a little after midnight satiating the hunger for good ole’ music in all of us. Hubby Dear and I congratulated Scott and came away feeling rather gratified but also wanting more. This is a band I would definitely listen to again. They rocked, to say the least.

PS: If you live in the Baltimore/Whitemarsh area, check them out. They seem to be in great demand and do shows mostly in that part of town.

Honor

2010-07-18T15:34:00.000-07:00

In just about 2 months, the 2010 Commonwealth Games begin in Delhi. The host city has been undergoing a complete overhaul for this most anticipated event but apparently its not quite there yet. Not quite to some may seem like an understatement, particularly to those who feel that the city is presently in shambles to be the proud host of one of the biggest sporting extravaganzas. Residents, locals and sports fans are unsure of Suresh Kalmadi's capacity to deliver on his promises as the chairman of the organising committee. Well, however slow the progress has been, I hope Delhi pulls through like it has in the past and dazzles everyone at these games.

On the other hand, the Queens Baton Relay, one of the greatest traditions of the Games is on its last leg traversing the capital cities, evoking spontaneous enthusiasm and support in sports lovers across the nation. It will reach Delhi for the opening ceremony on Oct 3. The Baton reaches Guwahati, my hometown, in a day and the city has gathered up some of its finest sportspersons to welcome and spread the excitement of this much anticipated event. Among them will be my father. Yes, my Bapi. The ardent lover of sports. The once famous footballer who was instrumental in putting his small state on the map with his skillful, stylish play and sportsmanship. He will be one of the privileged few who will carry the baton at the ceremony being put together by the state officials.

It is indeed a great honor, he says to me this morning on the phone. I will have to run and with my bad knee, not sure if I will be able to, he worries. He is 82 years old and yes, his knee is bad. The knee that forced him to quit playing tennis in his later years. But he is determined to be there - to represent his state and country with delight, dignity and a pride filled heart. Apparently, he has been showing off to my brother how he will run albiet only a short distance.

Bapi, words defy me for I cannot articulate how proud I am of you. You are an inspiration to one and all. I know I won't be there when you run with the famous baton but I will be there in spirit, cheering you on.

I am Lucky (in D's words)

2010-07-17T15:12:00.000-07:00

I told mama this morning that I am lucky. She asked me what I mean by that and I told her I am lucky because I have what I want. I have more than others and I sometimes get things 'double'.

By double I mean, I swim two times a week, I can watch two movies...like that.

Mama asked me to make a list of all the things I feel I am lucky for. She was going out to meet a friend for lunch in the afternoon. While she was out, I had to make this list. So I did and here it is:

Things I am lucky for:
Swimming
Movie time
2000 toys
Games
Outside toys- my bike, scooter, soccer balls
Candy
Birthday parties-where I can eat cake
School, so I dont have to stay at home all alone
Friends
My sister
My cousins
My room- so I dont have to sleep outside
The magnets on our fridge
Library books
Kitchen to make food
Food-green peppers, carrots, broccoli, lettuce, pizza, sausage
Plates and cups to use when we eat
Aita and Koka*- especially because they are not 'very' old.
Plants in our yard. We need to water them quite a bit though.

I think that's about it.

* D's grandparents

A's New Engagements

2010-07-15T14:00:00.000-07:00

She is taking on a new avatar-that of a house cleaner. Especially when we expect visitors. Her favorite cleaning activity is tidying up the shoe closet.

Ever since she stumbled upon my eye shadow kit a few days ago, she has been after my life to put some on her.....arm. Yes, you heard me right. Mama and daughter will spend a few hours this weekend exploring this new world of arm make-up. How exciting!

She is a bag diva. Loves to tote her bags along wherever she goes. She does need to work on color coordination though. Carrying a purple bag with a green outfit is not my kinda fashion. But she carries it so confidently, she makes a fashion statement. Well, almost.

I have said this before many times and here I go again. I love my baby girl’s zest, her spunk. If I feel rotten or low, the one thing that peps me quicker than a stiff drink is her. I just need to engage her in a conversation-her voice, the stuff that comes out of that tiny, edible mouth will blow the blues away in no time. This morning, as I hurriedly get dressed, she remarks, mama can you please move? I cannot see (the TV)–your 'beeg' butt is not letting me see.

'Mama'

2010-07-09T08:33:00.000-07:00

To some, it is just a word. To many, it makes a world of difference.

To me, it brings immeasurable joy. A simple word with a powerful meaning. It adds to my sense of being, my worth, makes me feel special, loved and important. It is sweet-sounding, almost poetic. It stirs up emotions I didn’t think I had in me. It intimidates me, making me shaky and unconfident, pushing me to question my capabilities. But this is who I am now. It is what defines me.

Pardon My Babble

2010-07-07T13:30:00.000-07:00

Getting out of the house on time is ridiculously tedious.

I am always running late, literally hauling the kids into the car to get to work on time. And for reasons beyond my comprehension, the kids know how to add to the stress. The more I need them to hasten, the slower they get. They stall, whine, drag their feet just to get my goat.

I wish I could record the morning scurry that takes place in the Bora household and play it like an old silent, B & W movie. Like a Chaplin movie. I am sure it will be comedic. I am chuckling as I am thinking about this morning. It was a riot. People who don’t know us will think we are crazy just within few minutes of watching us in action. We don’t do anything funny. There is nothing laughable about our rushed mornings. We are in each other’s hair, messing each other up but in retrospect, it makes for a good laugh. I can easily spend the next thirty minutes replaying it with a wide, foolish grin on my face.

I wish I could saunter into my office with every single hair in place, hormones under control, coolly and unstressed. But by the time I drop the kids or one of them off and get in, I am already looking harried and roughed up. At 8 o’ clock. Eight fucking a.m. Thus, my new motto in life - there is NO point ‘dressing up’ for work. I can’t recall the last time I put mascara or dabbed lip gloss on my non-existent lips. No memory what so ever. Not that it makes any difference. I look the same, dressed or not. Sad but true.

I know all this calls for better time management. Perhaps become a follower of Covey’s principles but I don’t see myself going down that path. Not in a million years. Why? I am plain lazy! I rather whine or blog about my distress than do anything about it. This has been my strategy all along and strangely enough it has worked in some instances. Not many, but some. But I am happy with the ‘some’. Some change is better than none, after all.

I am rambling, I know. Why am I writing about this and where am I heading with this post? I have no clue. I don’t even know why I am even blogging about something so inane and uninteresting.

This is what I call ‘mid-week’ crisis. I am writing about something because I have this need to write about something. I want to write but don’t quite know what to write about. I have been reading quite a few interesting articles off late but none inspire me to pen. They are all tightly ensconced in the crevices of my inactive brain, refusing to flow out mellifluously. Too many big words in one sentence. OK, now I am REALLY rambling.

Anyhow, coming back to time management issue- well, I think I can do a couple of things to manage my mornings better. I can:
1. Get ready the night before-prepare kids lunch, iron clothes to be worn etc.
2. Get up early-perhaps go for a walk-throw in the ‘fitness factor’.
Get an early start.
3. Sleep early to wake up fresh.

Well, honestly if I follow one of the three, I will make a huge difference and not stress about running late and blog about my situation. But, remember, I am LAZY. Hence, none of the above options really work for me. I am not a proactive person, so option # 1 to me is a waste of time when I can do something else instead, like laze around in bed, watch some crappy TV until wee hours of the morning. Since I am prone to doing just that, how the heck do I wake up early and get a head start? I simply cannot! The only thing I can do to deal with this innocuous nonsense is to write about it. So there!

A's Nightly Ritual

2010-07-06T19:11:00.000-07:00

A pint size story teller.....

animatedly narrating a story to a group of loyal listeners...

Sagely Advice

2010-07-06T16:22:00.000-07:00

A doesn't do well with losses. She hates it when she cannot win. And she makes it known to her opponents by whining and moping about it. No, its not a pretty sight. So much so that we don't quite enjoy playing games with her, particularly board games.

On a recent trip, she was gifted a 'Curious George' game and drawn by the novelty of it, we decided to try it out. As I read the instructions of the game, D looked at his sister who was suspiciously checking out the game. I think he anticipated the worse and decided to take preventive steps before all hell broke loose.

"A, listen to me OK. It's not about winning or losing. This (pointing to the game) is just a game, all right?", he said.

Yes, this is my 6 year old parting wisdom to his toddler sister. Didn't matter if his little sister got it or not. It was what he said and the way he said it. Priceless.

As for the game, guess who won? Bratty A! While she reveled in her win, I was grinning ear to ear for averting a mighty tantrum.

Mama Misses You

2010-06-30T06:32:00.000-07:00

My heart breaks when I see your pale face. I hold you close and I feel the fever burning up inside your delicate frame. You play with your brother despite your weakened body but I can tell he misses your spunk. Inactivity doesn’t suit you at all, sweetheart. I want the naughtiness in your eyes to come back for they look droopy and sad. I miss your hearty laugh and wisecracks. Yes, you heard me right-the ones for which you usually get zinged by me.

Well, what can I say- it sucks you are sick. I can’t wait for you to kick this damn infection!

It Has Happened

2010-06-27T14:07:00.000-07:00

...inevitably so.

The above little post-it signage was found on D's door this morning. It's official. He has stepped into the 'no-girls' phase and is mighty proud about it.

So the new rule is 'no girls in my room', except Mama (ahem!), A and cousin A. Yes, he did make some exceptions after giving it some thought.

As my first born traverses this new phase in his life, I will hide in my closet and agonize about how quickly he is growing.

Summer

2010-06-21T11:21:00.000-07:00

Sitting out on the deck, looking at the tree lined yard, it dawns on me how much I love summer in this country. For a long time, summer to me was scorching heat and humidity along with dust, incessant power cuts, cumbersome water coolers making loud, whirring noises, plenty of cold showers and drinking gallons of ice cold water. The heat made me languid, sweaty and easily restless for cooler temperatures.

Summer time in the US has been remarkably worthwhile. It is that time of the year when I am mostly outdoors, usually working in our yard- potting, watering plants, fertilizing the soil, getting rid of nasty weeds and watching everything bloom with a pride filled heart. The kids join in too with their own set of garden tools and their delightful company turns it into an endearing family activity.

The temperature drops as the evening sun colors the sky a beautiful red. As birds fly out on their last journey home signifying the end of another day, I make myself comfortable in a chair. Sipping a glass of my favorite Shiraz, I get lost in the beauty that surrounds me. It is green everywhere, lush and virile. The kids squeal riding their bikes, playing soccer, chasing bunnies and fireflies, high on adrenalin and making the most of the receding daylight. A cool breeze, tranquil sounds of the water fountain, the soft buzzing of a distant lawn mower and the sizzles and smells of a BBQ serve as soothers and transport me to a world of bliss.

Ah! How I love summer. It is glorious and refreshing, gently reminding me of its hold on me.

I blithely submit to its allure without a care in the world.

The Dad You Are

2010-06-20T07:18:00.000-07:00

Everything you do is subtle. You are intuitive specially when it comes to the kids. The sensitivity with which you interact with them is heartwarming and what can I say, I find immense comfort in knowing that you make a perfect father to them.

Please take D fishing, his drawing clearly indicates that he wants you to and I am positively certain that when you do, you will have a blast!

A, your pumpkin, your angel, is perhaps the only one who can get you to do things others can't with her charm and witchery.

They are unmistakably blessed. As for me, all I can say is that you make parenthood seem effortless!

Happy Father's Day!!

4.0.0.

2010-06-16T06:12:00.000-07:00

Dear Blog:

Is it really blog post # 403? Wow!

I started you in a lark, with a lot of skepticism, unsure of your longevity and use. I was surer of my neglect than my commitment towards you. But I have proven myself wrong in a positive, meaningful way.

I have more to offer to you now. I have so much to share and I know you will continue to be my trusted companion as I uncover the mysteries and miracles of life.
It’s been a beautiful journey and I thank you for nudging me to write my thoughts and experiences.I guess I can proudly and officially call myself a 'blogger'.

Forever indebted,

Monsters with Brains and Muscles

2010-06-13T18:27:00.001-07:00

Mama, I don't want to sleep in my room because monsters will come and get me.
They have muscles and a brain in their tummy. That's why they are strong and people can't fight them, says A, right before her bedtime.

Oh..so people don't have muscles?? I ask mainly to see where this is going.

No, they only have hands and fingernails.

Oh..so people are not strong because they only have hands and fingernails?

Yes, mama and monsters are strong because they eat beeg rice, beeg broccoli, octopus and tissues. People only eat macaroni and cheese, that's why they only have hands. No muscles. (note to self: stop feeding the kids mac and cheese!)

And when monsters get you, you become dead and then you have to go to the hospital and stay there for a long, long time. And you know what, mama? I am going to be a doctor and give people shots. They can then go home with stickers and get muscles and fight the monsters.

This is a 3 year old's imagination running amok. Together with her animated voice, expressive face and hand gestures, this conversation at the end of a long, tiring day makes it all worthwhile. Moments after she narrates this, she is in deep slumber, perhaps dreaming of acquiring a brainy tummy and muscles so she can fight those darn monsters!

Goodbye Kindergarten

2010-06-10T11:18:00.000-07:00

D ‘s last day before the summer break is fast approaching. This week has been packed with countless fun activities like bubble gum day, beach day, bubbles day, favorite book day to name a few. Lately, he’s been on a high, enjoying every moment of school. The idea of moving to first grade has finally dawned on him and one can easily discern the excitement in him about moving up. For him, it an indication that he is getting bigger and he ‘thinks’ he will get to do big boy stuff. Yep, he ‘thinks’. It's no secret-he is in a hurry to get “big”.

It has also dawned on him, to his chagrin and utter disappointment, that Ms. Smith may no longer be his class teacher. He adores his teacher. Try saying anything against her and his protective fangs come out. He listens to her more than he listens to us. Not sure if this is something we are thrilled about but I suppose it’s one of those battles that we can afford to not win. D is not alone in sharing this sentiment. His classmates too enjoy her and I am certain will be equally sad not to have her as the class teacher in their new grade.

Last night, he sat down to draw a card for his favorite teacher. He drew a pretty picture of a rainbow-bright, cheery and colorful and on the inside, he wrote a special message for her:

Dear Ms. Smith.
Thank you for being a great teacher. I will miss you a lot.
D

He neatly tucked his creation into his school folder among other things as he got his bag ready and said, You know mama, I think Ms. Smith will like this card and I think she will miss me too.

I couldn’t help but smile and marvel at my 6 year old’s compassion and confidence. Moments like this remind me how blessed I am that he is my son, my creation, an extension of me.

And just as he will miss his teacher, she will miss him too. Perhaps, even more.

Smitten

2010-06-07T08:51:00.000-07:00

A little boy has caught A’s attention.

We were at this boy’s birthday party yesterday afternoon. He, let’s call him M, is one of D’s close friends in his grade and is cute as a button. I totally get why A likes him. I would too if I was her age. He is kind, warm, loving and has a level of maturity not typically seen in kids of his age. He is strong despite his small built, has a sunny disposition. And to top it all, he is a great ‘sharer’.

A was completely taken in by his chivalry. Someone snatched a ball from her during the party and M brought it back to her, assertively announcing to the group of little tykes, this is her ball, she had it first so she gets to play with it, OK!
This, of course completely melted A’s heart. The girl who is usually haughty with a careless attitude suddenly turned into this bashful, demure little missy. M charmed her so much that for the rest of the party she had her eyes on him and followed him like a lost lamb. They looked adorable together- held hands, played ball, shared candy. M, protective, watching out for his damsel in distress and A, secure and safe in her knight’s presence.

As we were leaving, she shyly told me, Mama, M is my favorite. He is so cute. He gets to come to my birthday party!

By the way, her birthday is nowhere near. It is five months away but as you can tell, her planning has already begun and little man M heads her list of friends to be invited!

My Nemesis

2010-06-04T12:18:00.000-07:00

(Disclaimer: A overly dramatic post ahead. Don't tell me I didn't warn you!)

I haven’t read a book for a few weeks now and I feel like a fish out of water. I feel almost guilty for not keeping up, for breaking the continuity. But guess what, this post is not about books and the fact that I am behind with my reading. It is about my tormentor cum nemesis called WEIGHT.

The other night, I was trying on an outfit. A business dress I hadn’t worn for many years since I bought it, simply because the last time I had tried it on (a couple of years ago), I could fit TWO of me in it. Yes, I was in my best shape ever and although I couldn’t wear the dress despite my plan I came away giddily happy for the weight I lost. That night I hung up this dress with the thought of donating it just so someone 'bigger than me' could make good use of it. But the thought was never acted upon. So here I am a few days ago, pulling out the dress, absolutely confident that I will slip into it easily.

After all, I haven’t gained much have I? Just a few easily ‘sheddable’ pounds. Nothing to worry about. Really.

With this confidence I tried on the dress only to find that I couldn’t pull it up beyond my knees. My thighs, yep, the thundering thighs along with my well endowed but flattened backside a.k.a, 'ass', 'tikaa', 'bottom','buns', whatever you want to call it joined forces together to stop this dress from moving up any further. No matter how hard I pulled, yanked at it, it just wouldn’t budge. So here I was, half naked in my closet, dress stuck right below my bulging, layered torso, my eyes filled with disbelief, almost teary cursing the life out of everything, especially the dress. It was after all the dress that was inflicting all this sudden, unbearable pain I was experiencing. It’s not my oversized limbs or buttocks. No way!

Yes, it was the dress. It had to be, right, when in came my 3 year old. Her first reaction to my state (read pain) was a deep throttle laugh accompanied by ‘mama, you are lengta (naked)’. Hee, heee, hee, she chuckled. Then she came closer, inspected the dress (not me, mind you and my poor state) but my stupid dress and commented, “mama, this dress is stuck. You are TOO big for it!”

Did I ever mention how able my kids are at RUBBING IT IN??? Yes, if there is a prize, a medal for that, they will win it!

She then proceeded to call her older brother, who quite promptly arrived while I hurriedly and cumbersomely tried getting out of the dress and added, mama, what did you do to the dress? Are you sure it is yours? It looks like somebody else’s dress.....may be a little girl’s!

At this point I was ready to throw myself in a cup of water and end my life. And to add to this misery, hubby dear, my so called partner, my trustworthy friend watched this unfold from afar with a massive grin on his face.

Happy Birthday, Papa

2010-06-01T14:55:00.000-07:00

We are wishing you another year
Of laughter, joy and fun
Success, love and happiness,

We love the way you play with us,
For the fun things we do together
For the lessons you teach us
For making us feel special and loved

We hope you feel deep in your heart,
How very much you mean to us,
More than you can know.

We love you!

D & A

Marriage Plans & Other Justifications

2010-05-25T12:46:00.000-07:00

Mama, why are you married to Papa? A asks last night as we go looking for Hubby Dear’s birthday gift.
Because I love him.
Why? Who will you get married to? I ask, now curious.
I am not going to get married to anyone, replies my 3 year old haughtily.
No? Why not?
Because I will get married to me. I LIKE ME VELLY MUCH.

**********************************

Upon asking D why he enjoys watching TV so much, he says with a sneaky grin on his face, Mama, I watch TV because it gives me information about what’s going on all over the world. That’s why. Not for any other reason.
Guilt showing all over his face.

Sonny boy, I am not sure how much Tom and Jerry or Mr. SpongeBob can help you with global updates.

Screamer

2010-05-19T09:15:00.000-07:00

I scream at A for peeing in her pants despite being fully aware that it was just an accident. Well, what can I say-I have a short fuse. Something I still need to work on and take control of. I say still because I have been struggling with this for a while now. It is one of my greater flaws.

Later, feeling horribly guilty for exercising my wrath on my sweet little child, I humbly ask for her forgiveness.

Darling, I am so sorry for screaming at you a few minutes ago. I know it was an accident. Accidents happen and you are just 3 years old. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like I did. I am very, very sorry. I say.

She looks at me, gives me a big wide grin and says, It’s O.K, Mama. Don’t feel bad. You can scream at me but once in a while only…all right? Ah, did I ever tell you how much I adore my little girl?

Her comment obviously implies that I scream more than I should at my kids. And I do, I have to be honest. I love them as well as admonish them with equal intensity and depth. I am very passionate that way. But after this conversation, I am beginning to have dreadful visions of ending up with a ‘screamer’ reputation. No matter how many good deeds you do in your lifetime, it’s always the bad ones that people tend to remember. Such is life after all. Therefore if I don’t amend my ways, I am likely to be labeled as a high strung, inconsiderate and insane mom. ‘My mama used to holler all the time’ or ‘mama was a yeller’ is what I hear my kids saying about me in a few years!

I better get my act together before the damage is done and is irreparable. Jeez, I have so much to work on. As I go through this reflective moment, I remember the phrase my father used with me when I was a kid, you have a lot of growing up to do, my dear girl. Evidently, it applies to me even now as much as it did then.

Two Worlds Collide

2010-05-17T07:46:00.000-07:00

She drives up in a sedan to the gas station. She is dressed impeccably in a crisp business suit, a petite pearl necklace encasing her slender neck. Her hair is tied in a neat bun, the red stilettos signifying power and success.

She pushes the empty trash can across the parking lot. Her hair is tucked under a baseball hat, loose strands covering her weary face, unmanageable due to a strong gust of wind. One can tell she is an employee of the gas station from the logoed tee-shirt, once red but now faded. Her ill-fitting jeans smudged with oil and dirt is frayed at the ends showing well worn sneakers with untied laces. She picks up the big bag of trash, notices the lady filling up the gas tank.

Their eyes meet, faces show faint signs of recognition but they both look away unable to place each other.

Two women separated by class and stature, belonging to distinctly parallel worlds. Yet, there is a discernible but thin thread of commonality that binds them.

Their kids are in the same classroom at the local public school.

Beeg Butt

2010-05-16T18:02:00.000-07:00

A has gotten chunkier in the past few months and therefore is outgrowing many of her clothes including her underwear and when I inform her of this, she asks,
Mama, do I need new underwear because my butt is getting bigger?
Yes, sweetie.
Then comes the next one, as expected.
Will my butt grow as beeg as yours?
Yes, baby...it will.
To that, she says, no, mama...not as BEEG as yours!!!!!

I chuckle but in my mind I am thinking...yeah sweetheart, RUB IT IN!!!

10 & 10

2010-05-10T15:37:00.000-07:00

As a couple, we add a whole new meaning to “opposites attract” as we can’t possibly be any dissimilar than we are. I can see everyone we know nodding their heads in agreement.

He is quiet, I am boisterous.
He is practical, I am a dreamer.
He is systematic , I am methodically mad.
He is relaxed, I am passionate.
He is cautious, I am spontaneous......

We melded with unique dreams, aspirations to create something special, a union epitomizing honest, respectful companionship or the essence of it. This month, as we celebrate our tenth year of togetherness, we raise a toast to the awesome, adventurous journey we have had and to the exciting future ahead!

This year also marks my tenth year in the US. I arrived knowing little about this country, my new home. I was thrilled yet curiously skeptical, clueless of what’s to become.

Ten years isn’t long enough yet it feels like a lifetime. I have grown in many intangible ways. I have met scores of people, formed worthwhile alliances, both personal and professional. I have learned many incredible lessons, some hard, many invaluable. I have had countless rewarding, meaningful experiences, motherhood undeniably topping the list. And of course none of this would make any sense without the generous blessings and constant support of my family and friends.

It’s been one heck of a ride. Life is good.

Mother's Day

2010-05-09T05:47:00.000-07:00

Nothing is more heavenly than being woken up by my children with hugs, kisses and declarations of their love for me. It is not an uncommon scene at the Bora household and everyday I am thankful to be a mom to two beautiful, lively, affectionate and compassionate kids.

My kids define me. They complete me. They are my lucky charms. My raison d'etre.

On this Mothers Day, I wish all the fantatsic moms I know. Live it up, ladies. You are the best thing in your kid's life, the most precious of all. Sorry fathers, that's just the way it is:-)

Leaving you with a few photos of the gifts I recieved on this special day, made by D & A...

This, ofcourse got me all soppy and teary eyed!

The Kidless Weekend Getaway

2010-05-04T09:01:00.000-07:00

Do not be fooled by the word ‘getaway’. Although it may seem like a quick jaunt over the weekend, it was far from it with us flying almost eight hours cross-country to get to our destination-Viva Las Vegas!

We reach after a seemingly long and slightly eventful (turbulence and problematic landing) flight, tired but ready to rock and roll in the city with a tagline-"what happens here, stays here". A provocative way to attract travelers to taste its glamour and pizzazz.

Upon reaching the hotel, our hunger takes over tiredness and we find ourselves in the casino lobby fending for a horse to eat. Of course, there is none in sight save for some on a slot machine. We decide to settle for lamb chops instead with some seafood, beer and wine at the hotel’s high end steakhouse. The juicy, delectable chops with steamed asparagus shake us out from the lull (for once it isn’t the alcohol) and we venture out into the city’s bustling night life. We walk on Las Vegas Blvd (better known as the ‘Strip’) only to feel like two country bumpkins, fresh off the ship. Vegas feels like a different world, a crazy, upbeat, vibrant, ultra modern city. We like what we see but decide to head back to the hotel, sleep off our tired bones and start fresh next morning.

Breakfast at Mon Ami Gabi, a French restaurant on the Strip with a European flair includes freshly baked croissant, country sausage, thick slices of bacon, eggs, coffee and freshly squeezed orange juice. A great way to start an exploratory day of the city. We step into the Paris casino next door, a big expanse of slot machines, poker and blackjack tables, guests betting money and trying their luck at becoming rich. The casinos look the same, each boasting of more frills and wins than the other. The stroll through makeshift Paris with cafés, patisseries, quaint looking but expensive stores and Eiffel Tower transport us briefly to the ‘real’ place. One can tell by looking at the décor, street lamps, cobbled streets, the beautiful murals and statues that this attraction was painstakingly built to recreate the ‘Parisian’ ambience. The ladies room has beautiful hand painted sinks, a somewhat Victorian look and if one is keen on taking quick free lessons in French, Las Vegas style, you can easily come away learning a few handy dandy phrases like ‘you look hot today’ or ‘did I shave for this??’ or ‘your dress is hot and will look hotter on my bedroom floor’, imparted over a PA by a woman’s sultry voice.

As for me, I leave laughing heartily thinking about the brazenness of this city.

Las Vegas is undoubtedly a party place. With non-stop drinking, music, nightclubs, gambling, sex, lights and street action, it is a ‘mecca’ of fun. Mature somewhat tainted kind of fun. There is nothing modest about this town. Everything is big, done on a large scale. You can let go of your inhibitions, a place where you can let your hair down without the fear of being judged, labeled. The Strip comes alive at night with throngs of people filling it up, walking from one end to the other, most with drinks in hand, a skip in their step. There are street musicians, hawkers pawning off nightclubs and call girls, impersonators ranging from Michael Jackson to ‘man-whores’ dot the sidewalks with awed tourists lining up to take pictures with them for a dollar or two. Past midnight, the sidewalks are littered with pocket sized cards with nude girls, used by the hawkers, silently reminding us of the town’s debauchery.

Most casinos offer shows attracting some of the best talent in the country. We see a performance of the ‘Cirque du Soleil’ at the MGM Grand and it is spectacular. The acrobatic talent along with the beautiful background score, mind blowing effects and sets add to the fantastical artistry making it worthwhile and memorable. Considering these shows are not inexpensive, it is worth every penny and more.

The city makes us realize we are no longer young, less bold and energetic. But we don’t feel sad or discouraged either. We blend in but not quite. We are comfortable being the outsiders, observing the goings on from the periphery. The sidewalks seem like interminable fashion ramps, models showcasing their seemingly risqué attires. Despite my efforts to dress well and wear hip clothes, I feel conservative, overly dressed. But such is the beauty of this town- you enjoy it without being a part of it.

On day three, we drive 250 miles to Grand Canyon National Park in Arizona. The drive through the barren, desert like landscape is unlike many of the trips we have taken in the past. The vast arid expanse on either side of the road with a string of mountains on the horizon is somewhat daunting. We arrive at the guest information center only to be flurried upon. Yes, tiny flakes of snow welcome us as we park our car and reluctantly step out in the biting cold. We curse ourselves for not turning on the weather channel in the morning. Who’d expect snow in May?? We hastily run into the center looking for extra clothing only to find some long sleeved shirts which we promptly buy and change into before planning our next steps. Since our time is limited we decide to visit only a few viewpoints and we start first at Mather Point. Despite a rather freakish weather of intermittent sun and flurries, we are lucky for the most part of the visit.

Grand Canyon has been on our travel list for some time now. Many friends and relatives rave about the magnificence of this natural preserve and it is only now we know why they do so. The view of the canyon from the two points we visit leave us breathless. Words cannot describe the spectacular vastness that is in front of us. We feel small, dwarfed by its enormity. We are awed by the power and beauty of the layered rocks, different hues across the vast and eroded ruins. At one of the viewing rooms, we stumble upon these few lines which aptly describe what this natural phenomenon stands for – “The landscape looks like vast ruins, thoughtlessly sculpted. Yet a pattern exists to the apparent chaos, and geology helps us decipher it". Feeling rather fulfilled, we depart contemplating a trip again sometime in the near future.

We return to Las Vegas to revel in its sinfulness- gamble, window shop, eat, drink and retire early to get ready for the flight home next morning. We enjoy this trip, a much deserved break from the mundane and kids but both Hubby dear and I are ready to go back, snuggle up with our little ones, dive into our routines and into the hum-drum of our suburban life.

And what we did in sin city did not get left behind like many other stories. We brought them home with us for nostalgia and posterity.

The Power of Two

2010-04-28T12:25:00.000-07:00

They ‘stick together’ no matter what. Yes, they share a bond, indefinable yet tangibly special.

Nudity, Nose Digging and Such.....

2010-04-26T07:35:00.000-07:00

I go upstairs to change into something nicer for the evening’s dinner party. My close friends had already arrived with their teen son, who is D and A’s favorite ‘dada’.

As I close the bedroom door behind me, two little faces emerge quickly, looking at me inquisitively. Mama, what are you doing? Why are you closing the door? They ask in unison.

I am about to change, sweeties. Could you please close the door? Why don’t you go back to your room and continue playing with dada? I say in an effort to make them leave so I can get dressed and play hostess.

They turn around chuckling, rush back into the room where ‘dada’ is and chime....
You know what dada....mama is N-A- K- E- D! She is going to change, so she is N-A –K-E-D!

I swear if it had been any louder, the whole neighborhood would have known what was happening at the Bora household. Did someone just say 'privacy'? What’s that????

***********************************************************

A is a nose digger. Well, let’s call it her favorite pass time. She does it more when she has a cold so you can imagine how eeky it is when she pulls out the gunk and makes snotty balls! Quite happily, I must add. I know I could easily spare you the graphic details but there is no fun in doing so. Really.

Last night, she pulls her father’s finger and tries to shove it into her nose. Upon realizing that it isn’t working, she declares, papa, your finger is too beeg. It will not go into my nose.

She then pulls mine, holds it up and says, only mama’s and my’s gooz into my nose because we are girlz-ezz. O.K. mama? You can put your fingurrz in my nose.

As if this is something I have been eagerly waiting to do and have finally been granted permission by my little mite!

Sibling Talk.....Continues

2010-04-19T06:22:00.000-07:00

We came out of mama’s tummy, said D.

I don’t quite recall why this observation came up. I do remember we were all in the car heading out to Toys R Us, D & A’s favorite store, to collect their well deserved prizes. Prizes (read bribes!) for singing at the Bihu function the day before. Their first ever duet (they sang ‘Down by the Bay’) with me on the guitar. Playing the guitar at a public function was a first for ‘moi’ as well.

Yeah, we are very, very, very mall (small) but now we are beeg! Very beeg, concurred A.
And you know what mama? asked D.
Yes, sweetie…what?
We are going to be as big as Texas...
No, as big as Earth....
No actually, we will be very big…as big as Mars.....
Actually we will be as big as Pluto! Not Mars, Pluto......
D was on a roll, making these lofty comments without much of a pause.
No...no....no, he continued,we will be as big as the outer space. Then we will suit up, wear our astronaut outfits and we will fly all around space,mama! We will be that big!!! That will be so cool...right A? looked at his sister for approval, his sweet, boyish face sparkled with excitement.

His befuddled sister looked at him, shrugged her shoulders and said, Ha? What are you saying, D? What is Plootoo?

The Siblings Chit-Chatting....

2010-04-17T06:32:00.000-07:00

... with the younger one taking the lead.

The brother is trying to open a water bottle but is having difficulty doing so.
The younger brassy sister says, why can't you ooopen it? You are a beeg boyee and beeg boyees knowz how to.
The older one feeling a tad frustrated replies, but girls know too-so you should be able to open. You are a girl.
To that, the girl says, I am not a guurl...I am a baby!

Later, they were pretending that they were at the beach building sand castles (paper tissues were imaginary sand and you can figure the mess they had made to their mom's displeasure.)
The girl asked the brother, hey do you love me?
Yes I do.
Are you soor?
Yes, I love you very very much.
THEN WHY DON'T YOU GEEP ME A HUG??? GEEP ME ONE NOW! demanded the sister bossily while the brother perplexed had no option but to follow the command of his 3 year old impish sister.

At the breakfast table, the imp lets out a fart, silent but surely potent as it stinks up the whole kitchen. The brother goes...ewwww mama, this place smells. Cheeh A, you farted didnt you? he questions his sister who sits a few feet away from him.
No, I didn't! she answers indifferently and adds, yes, mama, this place stinks...ewwwww! covering her delicate nose with her tiny hands.

The 5ers

2010-04-16T13:21:00.000-07:00

OK, I have been tagged by Chints.

5 pathetically horrible movies you’ve seen:

Countless pathetic movies to easily lose count of but the ones that stand out for me are as follows:

Sweet November: Went to watch it because it starred Keanu Reeves ( no matter what people say about him, I happen to dig him) and Charlize Theron (the hottie!) but had the strongest urge to leave the theatre half way through. Interestingly, the highlight of this movie night was watching my brother snooze who brought the small theatre down with his loud snores! Luckily there were just a few of us and I bet the others were dozing too else wud have seriously gotten the boot!

Harold and Kumar: I don’t know how this one became such a hit but I found it utterly stupid and silly. I do have to say Kal Penn redeemed himself in “The Namesake”.

Khushi: this one toh mujhe ‘dukhi’ kar diya!

Aashroy: We used to watch a ton of Assamese movies growing up and enjoyed most of them. But this one will surely win the Razzie award for the worst picture ever made. I still remember the three of us (my brothers and I ) causing such a ruckus inside the theatre that our mom had no option but to drag us out into the car and drive home. Although she was enraged with us, the next day she agreed how painful the flick was.

The Ugly Truth: Starring Katherine Heigl and Gerard Butler, this movie was truthfully ugly.

5 people you’d love to hit anytime, anywhere:

This really is a no-brainer since I am known to be a 'basher'. Ask my close friends- they will tell you. I totally see them nodding their heads in agreement.

Liars

Road side lewds: Jerks who follow you, pounce on you, feel you up on crowded buses and streets, flashers, you name it, I have seen them all....thanks to my stay in "Apni Dilli".

Hypocrites

Meddlers- these folks really need to understand how irritating they are. Mind your own business, people!

People who lack basic etiquette and manners.

5 accessories you can create out of food:

Wow, you can make accessories out of food??? Really??? I’d be happy if I can churn out a basic dal. Perhaps I should take lessons from my dear friend who tagged me. Chints: are you up for it?

5 places where you don’t want to be seen dead at:

A restaurant gorging on food. I am such a food freak. The rate at which I eat scares me.

At a party-drinking as if there is no tomorrow.

On a plane: I'd probably die of claustrophobia.

At a zoo watching snakes-eewww...they creep me out!

A strip club- I went to one in Bangkok many years ago and I was lucky my heart was strong enough to bear the sight!

Done! Is there anyone else I can tag? Will see if I can get MM and TC to take this up-two other bloggers I follow religiously.

Activities This Past Week

2010-04-13T15:24:00.000-07:00

The kids are into drawing these days. I have to admit, this really is a great way to keep them occupied and because they love this activity so much, I don't have to put any effort to get them to draw. I just bring out the box of crayons and markers and I have two kids scrambling to put their hands on it.

Below are samples of their artwork:

A: These are peoples (pointing to the little red circles)who like iceeshcream. But they are not going to the iceeshcream store today.
Oh...why?
Because they are sick. They will go tomorrow.
The 'peoples' look rather cute in the picture.

A: I was in the ooruplane. I was walking home to the park. And I see everything. Toys R Us, the mall and the store. It is like a map.
So you walking to the park and you were on the plane??
Yes and I saw the mall.

BTW, the yellow lettering stands for HOUSE (she had help with a couple of letters). When I asked A why she wrote house. Her response was, that's where the mall is, mama!

D's interpretation of a monster. He has started using a lot of colors in his drawings thus making them quite interesting.

Finally, Beckham in the making? D started a soccer camp last week. There are about 12-13 kids in this camp-mostly his age but most are bigger and stronger than him. But he is loving it. It is a treat to watch them play-little people running across the field in their soccer gear trying to outdo their opponent.

Unexpected Behavior

2010-04-13T08:41:00.000-07:00

A worried mother called me last night reporting about D and his friend, M’s unfriendly behavior toward her kid. Up until last week, they were buddies. They hung out together. They were bus mates who shared the same seat to and fro from school.

This little boy, V, who feels excluded, is the tiniest of the lot. A cute little boy who calls D his best friend. M, the bigger, sturdier of the three, decided that V is no longer his friend since he didn’t attend M’s birthday party a few weeks ago. M, of course, didn’t know that his mom forgot to invite V to the party and used his own little boy interpretation to arrive at this decision. And in the process managed to convince D that he should be on his side and ignore V going forward.

D is someone who goes along with others to the extent that he can be taken advantage of. Assertiveness is not his strong suit-something we need to be watchful of. And in this situation, he did what he is comfortable doing-he went along at the behest of his friend. The fact that M is in his class and V is not could have influenced his decision to take M’s side in this matter.

Anyway, to make a long story short, both of them formed a clique to which V wasn’t allowed access. They did their own thing while little V wondered and worried why he was being treated this way. Since last Monday, he has been returning home from school sad and upset that his friends no longer see him as one of them. His mother hoped that things will go back to the way they were but every day V got sadder and sadder.

My heart went out to him when I was informed and a gazillion thoughts crisscrossed my mind trying to make sense of this whole situation- Why is D doing this? Is my sweet little boy really capable of being mean to someone? How could he? May be this is all a misunderstanding...it’s probably not D’s fault.

When we confronted D last night soon after we got the news, he had a hard time admitting to his mistake. He informed us that he doesn’t remember what exactly M said to V but did nod when we asked if he was mean to V. My heart sank because up until then I thought this was all a mistake. I almost lost it but thanks to Hubby dear whose calm demeanor kept me cool-headed. His logic was-at this age, stuff like this happens all the time -they are kids but we need to help him understand that this is unacceptable, reinforce what is good behavior and what’s not to avoid this in the future. Oh! Bless him!

Late last night, D called V and offered his sincere apology. We also made M’s mom aware and he did the same too. She was equally clueless as we were about this whole situation. Hubby dear made D draw a picture for V as a sign of friendship and he stayed up way past his bed time to do so. This morning, he tucked the picture is his school bag, ready for a fresh start, set to renew the friendship he almost lost because of his behavior.

I am not sure whether D comprehends the gravity of his actions and their impact on his friend but I do hope that this is one of the many experiences that positively shape him.

Edited to add: Looks like the intervention was a success. V apparently got off the bus grinning ear to ear and flaunted to his mother the two drawings his apologetic friends gifted him enroute to school.

Nonchalance

2010-04-09T08:07:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, D comes home from school carrying two things that made me swell with mother’s pride. One was an award certificate(which also included a coupon for a kid’s free meal at Chick-fil-A) announcing him as one of his school’s HERO-someone who displays responsibility, politeness, safety and respect consistently. The other is an 'Incredibles' comic book he won for completing the reading Olympics which took place a few weeks ago.

He is quick to show off the book he borrows from the school library every Thursday. This is the first thing he does when he gets back, routinely. Takes out the book promptly from his bag and flaunts it. Something I have begun to expect from him. Yesterday, being Thursday, he did exactly that but didn't mention or show the special prizes he won. Fortunately, I check his bag every evening. I pulled the items out, all fired up wanting to know more about them.

D, you got a certificate and the comic book? How??? Why??? This is awesome! I said, happily snapping away his latest achievements.

“Um....I got the certificate because I got four hero slips from my teacher this month. And....I got the book for completing the gold in reading...as a prize”, he replied, quite casually.

This is wonderful, sweetheart. Aren’t you thrilled? I asked sounding almost hysterical (that’s me- I am drama personified!).

I hugged and kissed him, told him how impressed I was with him.

Yup, mama..thanks, he said in his easygoing manner and then dashed off to play with his sister.

Evidently, my attempts to turn this into the highlight of the day, a WOW moment, failed miserably. My 6 year old, laid back and nonchalant as always has discernibly moved on.

Damn You! Infection

2010-04-08T08:00:00.000-07:00

It’s been approximately four months since the first bout of fever. A tugged at her ear, complained about the pain but was still cheerful despite a low grade fever and chest congestion. A doctor’s visit followed. The ears got examined, antibiotics were prescribed for the inflammation and she returned home with stickers for her brother and self. We have made several trips to the doctor’s office since. A trip that has become all too familiar. Unlike most kids, the doctor’s office is a fun place for her. She likes the feel of the stethoscope on her tiny chest, the playfulness of the consulting physicians, the attending nurses and the suckers she acquires on her way out.

She has been on three doses of antibiotics so far, each promising hope and good riddance to the infection. But this darn infection is stubborn, unyielding. It has happily housed itself in her tiny frame refusing to give her reprieve.

Last night, the fever came back making us uneasy and A, restless, fitful. She woke up tired but undeterred. Her face pale, reminding me how delicate she is. My precious, little daughter. I sit her down on the kitchen island as I prepare the lunch box for her older sibling. She watches me intently but I could tell she is distracted. I ask, how is my beautiful baby today?

My ear hurts, mama. Her frail voice breaking my heart into a million pieces.

Well, the bullheaded infection is back. Maybe it didn’t go away at all. It lurked around rearing its ugly head at us once more. Perhaps the antibiotics failed – even this strong one that was prescribed last time because the earlier doses didn’t work effectively. On the last visit, the doctor realistically explained the options available to us if the inflammation continued which included putting tubes in her ears by an ENT specialist. A common cure for repeat ear infections in toddlers. It is a minimally invasive procedure but to me, the paranoid mother that I am now, a surgery is a surgery is a surgery. One in which she will be under general anesthesia.

We have an appointment this afternoon to know what lies ahead. What could be done next? I am praying that it’s not the tubes. That there are other possible remedies.

As for my baby, she is excited about the visit to the doctor’s today. The glee on her face is obvious –‘Yayy, I go to the doctors,’ she quips. I have a feeling the end of this positive sentiment is not very far away.

The Storyteller

2010-04-06T06:06:00.000-07:00

I have to thank MM for making me write this post. She did a similar post about her son and I couldn’t help but write one on the story telling game D and I play. This usually happens right before bedtime after I have done my share of reading to him. Most nights he tries to push back his bed time and this is his way of stalling. One of us starts the story, we both fill in the gaps and build it as much as we can. My tired self reluctantly gives in only to come away with a smile, admiring his imagination and creativity. Below is one of his plots.

Once upon a time there was a boy named D and two girls A (cousin A) and A Jr. (sister). Besides him, his sister and cousin are always the protagonists in his narratives.

One day they were walking to the park when ………they saw a stranger. And the stranger was coming towards them. He looked scary. So D, A and A Jr. went up to him, offered him candy.

Candy? I thought they were scared of him?

They were but they wanted to trick him by giving him candy. You see, they were carrying a net behind them that the stranger didn’t know about.

Oh…OK…sounds interesting. Carry on. As you can tell, I stopped contributing to the story

And when the stranger saw the candy, he came forward, very close to them. And you know what D, A and A Jr. did? They threw the net over him and caught him. He was TRAPPED!!!!.

Wow….that was very brave of them.

And then you know what happened? They videotaped him.

Videotaped him?? Why??

So they can show the tape to the cops.

I see…so they let him go?

No.....they then walked home with him trapped in the net. They called 911. The cops came and took him away.Then D, A and A Jr. came back home. They felt very good. The END.

Nice...but, I still don’t understand why they videotaped him?

They did that so the cops can watch the tape and see what they did. The cops need to believe them right?

Backyard Views

2010-04-05T06:39:00.000-07:00

Spring is by far one of the best seasons for me. The transition from the dreariness and bitterly cold to the beautiful sunshiny days with azure skies, blooming trees and flowers remind me of new beginnings, the dawning of a new day. The beauty surrounding me is a stimulant making me alive and vital.

The Bradford Pears in full bloom.....

Below is the purple cherry tree. Love the color. Its branches have a deep wine color making it the prettiest tree in the yard.

Also, how can I leave out the tulips?

We planted them two years ago and they haven’t disappointed us. The deep red color stands out from afar perking me up as I head home after a long day at work.

And then there are my two most favorite people.......

The gorgeous weather beckons them. They have been spending a lot of time outside doing all kinds of things (drawing with chalk, waters guns, bubbles, planting, rabbit watching, flying paper planes, helping papa wash the cars) but their favorite activity has to be riding. A, recently acquired a second hand ‘girlie’ bicycle from her dearest cousin. She loves it and shows off the training wheels to one and all as if they are a novelty. D has been trying new tricks on his cycle, often times to our chagrin but it is hard to pin down a 6 year old who fancies his bicycle and scooter more than anything else.

I Love You, Mama

2010-04-01T07:32:00.000-07:00

I am utterly flattered by my son’s declaration of his love for me.

I love you, mama is a phrase he uses almost every day, in all earnest. This adoration is the subject of his artistic creations as well. Both kids love to color and D’s new fascination has been drawing his own creations. I have to admit (sadly) he doesn’t have an artistic bone in him but he gets full marks for his effort. He always creates two pieces-one revolving around superheroes (no surprises!) and the other for his friend, sibling, papa or mama. Often times, I am the one who is the recipient of his finished art work as evident in the drawings below.

I see them and I melt. I hold them and I get teary eyed. I feel blessed, loved but above all, these colorful yet simple affirmations are a testament to the solid, deep bond we share.

On another note, I am picky about misspellings-am conscious of them when I write and am quick to call them out in other people’s writings.

But I cherish them when I see them in D’s notes. They look deliciously cute to me. Not because he is my precious son. Maybe so. But there is something about the way kids write. The purity in their child like font is sublime, ineffable.

Spring

2010-03-28T16:09:00.000-07:00

The rain pounds heavily taking us through another wet, dreary and chilly day. I am restless, impatient of the gloom outside. A's use of vibrant colors makes me feel cheerful and sprightly.

D's art work puts my restlessness at ease as I am reminded of whats to come.

Proclaimation/Observation

2010-03-24T16:03:00.000-07:00

A: Mama, I love you.
Me: Awww….I love you too baby. Tell me, how much do you love me?
A: I love you three days.
Me: Oh, only three? You know how much I love you? I love you hundred days.
A: No, mama, I don’t love you hundred days. I love you three days.

Like I have said many times before on this blog-my girl knows what she feels and wants! I don’t think I can ever trump her.

****************************************************************

D, comes into the family room with a big frown on his small forehead.
Mama, I want to be a grown-up.
Why sweetie? I ask. Off late, he's been on a rush to grow.
How come grown ups get to do whatever they want and kids don't? I really want to be a grown up. Like you and Papa.

This observation came to light when Hubby dear insisted D wears a jacket when he goes cycling (despite his reluctance to wear one) while his father steps out with him wearing none.

What Does He Really Eat?

2010-03-22T08:44:00.000-07:00

D used to take a lunch box until when we gave in to his relentless demand of ‘buying’ lunch at school. His argument was –‘all my friends buy lunch except me’. And like poor suckers, feeling all pitiful for our child who felt exempted, left out, we conceded to his demand, only to realize that re-negotiation on this matter is in order. Thanks to this eye opening new series in which Jamie Oliver (the English Chef) is taking upon a mammoth challenge of changing the way kids eat at school cafeterias in America. It will be interesting to see how far he gets in bringing about a change- one that is much needed in this country where childhood obesity is a national epidemic.

Obesity is not the concern for my son. He is scrawny as a stick. No, he is not a poor eater. He eats as much as he can. Of course, if he ups his intake a bit more, he will have more energy but this is something I am not overly worried about.

What I am worried about now is what he eats when he eats. The menu of the café is quite unappealing to say the least. Chicken nuggets, pizza, mashed potatoes (which, again thanks to this show, I found out, is also processed/frozen). What can I say-my naiveté took the best of me. I thought the mashed potato, at least, will be fresh. I envisioned cooks at the school peeling potatoes first thing in the morning and preparing them with love and affection (note the sarcasm!)for the little kids who come to eat their food. Really. But no, this is only a figment of my imagination-far removed from reality. Breakfast is another issue all together. I don’t care about what they serve for breakfast simply because we make sure D eats a proper breakfast before he leaves for school. But what about kids who does and guess what most schools serve- pizza! Yes, unthinkable, right? I am sure there is a lot of red tapping going on, funds being retracted, other limitations that school administrations struggle with, but these are our children who are eating junk.

Sadly, a lot of parents, including us rely on school cafes to provide our kids nutritious, fresh foods but do we really know what they eat. Just as we pay attention to what we put on our kids’ plates at home, we should be mindful of what they eat in school as well-the place where they spend more time than anywhere else. Last night’s sneak preview forced me to rethink, refocus. Should we allow D to continue eating the crap they serve or should we enforce home-made lunch at the expense of him feeling left out, ridiculed by his friends, peers? A safe solution would be to limit the number of buying days and resort taking lunches from home on alternate days of the week.

I know this will involve patient negotiations with my 6 year old but if I know him well, he will agree. As for Jamie Oliver, I hope he manages to bring about this much needed food revolution not just for kids but for all. And as food gets more processed and refined, it behooves us to take care of ourselves and our health and one of the easiest ways to accomplish this is to pay close attention to what we put into our bodies.

She Calls the Shots-Always

2010-03-21T18:07:00.000-07:00

A talks nineteen to a dozen nowadays. She is animated, expressive and its a treat to hear her sing song voice. But she is selective about who she wants to engage with and for how long as she invariably pulls the conversation plug, like she did this evening.

Me: Hey, what do you want to be when you grow up?
A: First I want to tell you what I want for my birthday.
Me: Oh..OK
She comes and whispers in my ear...
A: I want a sleepy toy.
Me: OK..but tell me, what do you want to be when you grow up?
A:I want to be Dora.
Me: Dora...why?
A: Because she talks in Spanish...Hola...Hola!
Me: I see...so you want to be Dora because she speaks Spanish.
Anything else you want to be other than a Spanish speaking Dora?
A:You know what else I want for my birthday?
Me: OK..what?
A: I want a Mickey Mouse sleepy toy and a Dora sleepy toy.
Me: All right...so tell me, what else do you want to be when you grow up?
A: I don't want to talk anymore, Mama!
She trots away haughtily clearly indicating she is done chit-chatting with me.

Age of Shoes

2010-03-17T05:41:00.000-07:00

In an attempt to help his sister put her shoes on during this morning’s mad rush, D enquires, Papa, what is the age of A's shoes?
One shoe says 7 but the other one, I can't tell. Is it 7 or 8 years old?

Sacred Bond

2010-03-10T06:46:00.000-08:00

The teacher animatedly reads a story. Little faces look at her enraptured, perhaps transporting themselves to an imaginary world of fanciful characters and dreamy settings. The soft music playing in the background adds to the relaxed ambiance. The kids sit close to one another, some holding hands, others crossed legged, while a few inching their way slowly towards the story teller.

Away from this group, peripherally, sits a little girl. Her posture droopy, weary almost as if she will collapse momentarily. Her hair tussled, her eyes although fixed on the book, glassy and pale.

She doesn’t see the woman enter the room. Unusual for her to miss as she is always attentive, observant of anyone’s arrival. The second teacher smiles at the woman and fills her in. The woman listens intently, her worried eyes fixated on the girl. She politely thanks the teacher, walks across the room quietly to where the girl sits. She is inches away from her, yet she goes unnoticed. She taps the girl gently on her shoulder, she doesn’t respond. She bends down and gives her a hug. The girl flinches, takes a moment to register, then hugs her back limply. The girl feels warm, listless in her arms and when she tilts the girl’s head upwards to make eye contact, she notices tears streaming down the tiny, flushed face.

I don’t feel good, says the girl falteringly.

The woman picks her up and carries her out of the building towards the parked car. As she puts the girl gently in her seat, the girl gives her a kiss, her delicate face breaking into a smile. A faint, indiscernible smile but enough to cement the powerful, sacrosanct bond they share as a mother and a daughter.

Weekend Chit-Chat

2010-03-08T13:28:00.000-08:00

D gets a button with one of his birthday cards that says ‘cool kid’. He reads it aloud, likes the sound of it and decides to put it on his shirt.
As I help him do that, I ask, D, are you cool kid?
Yes, mama.
Do you know what ‘cool’ means?
Yeah…it means cool!
OK, but what is cool?
Oh, it means I am smart and fun.
OK, anything else?
And handsome, mama!

*************************************************

A day before his sixth birthday party, D is fantasizing about his celebratory party. Mama, you know, all my friends will come tomorrow and play with me because they like me. And I will stand in the middle of a big circle and say, I am the birthday boy. I am six today and I am a rock star!
Later that day, he made his Papa buy him a button (yes, another one) which lights up and has a picture of a guitar on it with the words "rock star' boldly printed over it. He wore it proudly on the day of his party, his face grinning from ear to ear.

*****************************************************

Mama, I want to marry you, quips my 3 year old daughter.
That’s nice sweetie, I reply flatteringly and out of curiosity, I ask, do you know what ‘marry’ means, sweetie?
Yes, mama. You kissie each other and then you eat cake.

Movie Time

2010-03-08T06:48:00.000-08:00

- He is a washed out pro-wrestler, unbeatable in his hey days. He is fiercely loyal to his sport- craves it simply because it is the only thing he knows how to crave for. Despite his many successes with it, he is poor and keeps himself afloat doing menial jobs. He has a child he loves immensely but abandons her for the rush he derives from his wins.

- She is a sexy stripper, a saucy one at that, a mother of a nine year old boy who is disgusted with her work but is helpless. She is someone with a tough exterior but with a soft heart struggling to find some normalcy in her life.

- She is a college going daughter living with her partner. Despite the anger at her absent, irresponsible father, she is still hopeful and longs for a lasting, loving relationship with him.

Three strong, disparate characters portrayed impressively in the movie, ‘Wrestler'. Different yet inseparable by their need for love and acceptance.
This movie indeed marked Mickey Rourke’s comeback. I didn’t care much for his overly botoxed face, quite a far cry from how he looked in 9 1/2 weeks but his performance as the beat up wrestler was gritty and remarkable, definitely award worthy. Marissa Tomei as the stripper was risque and her performance seemed effortless. (I’d kill to have a body like her! Seriously). Although the movie had its moments of predictability and cliches, it was worthwhile because it felt real, honest and rustic.

On another note, a big yay for Kathryn Bigelow’s Oscar nod last night. Her dominance in a predominately man’s world is liberating in many ways and she carves a path for many aspiring young women. Also, congratulations to Sandra Bullock. I love her - she has an outrageous sense of humor, somewhat self-deprecating, seems so down-to-earth, practical and totally unfazed by her celebrity status. I was rooting for her all throughout this Oscar season. And she won! What more can a loyal fan ask for?

Six

2010-03-04T06:53:00.001-08:00

DDD:

It was an uneventful pregnancy-peaceful and painless. I carried you effortlessly, dreamily with a perpetual glow on my face. I talked to you incessantly, I remember. I would wrap my arms tenderly around my growing belly, sway from one side to another. Just you and I, blissfully lost in the moment.

My love for you began the moment I saw the pink lines and grew deeper progressively. I couldn't wait to see you- your beautiful face, your smile, your twinkly eyes. I longed to hold you in my arms in a mother’s embrace, massage your tiny hands and toes, fill your ears with beautiful tunes. I contemplated about our future together and the promising journey we were embarking on.

That was 6 years ago. You arrived this day shrieking your lungs out, announcing your august presence, mesmerizing not just Papa and I but everyone with your purity and perfection. And perfect you are!

You are a parent’s dream. Uncomplicated just like when you were in my womb. Your laid back nature, easy going attitude, warmth and compassion are some of the gems that make you special.

You are a bright star in the night sky, the rays of the sunshine, the coolness of a breeze and as you celebrate your sixth year, please know that you are loved and that you make us immensely proud!

Happy Birthday Superhero!

Mama

Forty Eight Years

2010-03-03T06:28:00.001-08:00

She is an idealist, he is a realist.
She is ambitious, he is content.
She is sharp, he is industrious.
She is alluring, he is handsome.
She is a critic, he is a dreamer.
She is lofty, he is modest.
She is venturous, he is prudent.
She is creative, he is sporty.

They met four decades ago. It's been a meaningful relationship despite the usual ups and downs. Today they stand tall, proud of their accomplishments, their successes and as I, their daughter reflect upon their illustrious life, I am grateful for everything they have done for me.

Here's to you Maa and Bapi- Happy 48th Anniversary!

Tidbits

2010-02-28T17:06:00.000-08:00

The little sister is screaming her head off to have ice cream in her princess bowl. The older sibling, sitting along side, looks at me and says, Mama, this (his sister's tantrum) is a good show, you wanna watch with me?
Thank God for small mercies such as this one. It helped me curb my anger, simmer down and avert a meltdown!

*****************************************************

Mama, D say toopeed(stupid)! tattled his sister.
Ha? What did he say? I heard her clearly but her pronunciation with her devilish grin were too priceless not to be encored.
Toopeed Mama...toopeed!.

*****************************************************

When my 3 year old kisses me not once but numerous times on my face while declaring her love for me, there is no doubt in my mind that motherhood is the best thing that has happened to me.

*****************************************************

D is turning 6 next week. Yes he is. And just like any birthday boy, he is super excited about his special day and the party we have planned for me. But just like many moms out there, I don't want him to grow. He is my baby after all. My first born and I want him to remain a baby forever which I have verbalized many a times to him.
Why? Mama why don't you want me to turn six?
Of course, he is in a hurry to get older. He wants to turn 11 by next year. So in response, I told him to relax and not be in such a rush to turn in to a big boy.
Then, how small do you want me to be? Just like a baby in your stomach?
No, may be not a baby in the tummy but 2 years old, I replied.
Oh, mama, that's better. I think I can be two years old again but I don't want to be a baby in your stomach
Why not?
It's ewwwwww!!

Fears

2010-02-25T16:06:00.000-08:00

One thing I am paranoid about is dying alone in some decrepit, god forsaken nursing home that houses hundreds of other neglected, ignored old people, a sterile place where my only companions are the burly caretakers and stocky nurses who constantly curse under their breaths and wish I cross over soon so they have one less to take care of, a place that serves watery soup and insipid, boiled vegetables,a place that family members put their elderly away to severe all ties and unburden themselves of any worries and stress.

I seriously do! This is contrary to who I am as a person. It's unusual for me to think about something like this-things I have no control over-cuz I try not to and I often succeed to stay focused on the present and not worry about the future and what it holds.

But this thought does get the best of me at times.I try to quiz my kids about this occasionally-'Hey, will you take care of me when I get old and frail and rickety?' and they nod profusely putting a smile on my face but the other day when I posed this question again, D's retort was:
I will Mama. I will take care of you. But...but why do you always ask us?

Well, he has a point. Why do I? Am I the only one who thinks of such morbid thoughts or do you too? Just curious. I think one of notions some of us subconsciously subscribe to once we become parents is that our kids will look after us, take care of us when all our systems shut down, when we become useless to self and society.

Yes, I do worry about such things, not always, sometimes I do allow this hopelessness to overwhelmingly creep in but my son, my sweet son eased some of my worries away when he added,
Mama, dont worry, I will take care of you and Papa. You know why? Cuz I love you very much.
He may not at all comprehend my fears, understand where his mother is coming from but his innocent, ernest reply made me gooey with relief and joy. It was music to my ears, sweet sounding, drifting me to a secure comfortable place, away from my unfounded fears and apprehensions.

Awestricken

2010-02-22T07:29:00.000-08:00

As you lay asleep next to me, your tiny body curled up against mine, I can’t help but marvel how beautiful you are. My heart warms up. I swell with adoration as I realize you are my creation. I smile knowing that nothing can change the fact that you belong to me, that I am your mother, that you and I are intricately linked, that you and I share a language of love, fondness, respect and admiration only decipherable to us.

I always knew motherhood would be special. What I didn't know was how awe stricken I will be with it.

Another Terrific Read

2010-02-18T11:35:00.000-08:00

Just finished reading ‘The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks’ by Rebecca Skloot. I am very, very picky when it comes to reading non-fictions. This one captivated me so much that I ordered it on Amazon within minutes of reading an excerpt.

If you haven’t yet read it, go get it. It is a compelling read that will make you marvel at the mysteries and discoveries of medical science but will also compel you to question the ethical ramifications around research that includes human subjects.

What is amazing about the author is that this is her debut novel. She spent a decade researching the book’s central character, Henrietta Lacks-her illness, her family and of course her now famous cell line. It is a story of love, hope and friendship. It is a story about perseverance, of healing. It is a story that forces us to reflect upon the sacrifices made by individuals, both humans and animals that have allowed us to benefit so much from modern medicine.

I cried while reading some portions of the book, especially the element of racism, the inhuman, squalid, degrading conditions in which blacks (and in some cases, other minorities) were treated, the poverty surrounding it all but it was also uplifting, heart-rendering, full of compassion, even witty at times.

I tip my hat to Ms. Skloot for the awareness, for honoring the black woman behind the HeLa cells.

The Joys of Motherhood

2010-02-16T06:20:00.000-08:00

A, who is not as expressive as her older brother made me gush like a fountain last night with her heart-swelling declarations:

Mama, u r ‘coot’ (cute) mama in the whole wide werd!
U r the besht mama in the whole wide werd!
U r besht frend in the whole wide werd!
(Of course, my copious tears scared the crap out of her but that’s another post altogether!)

On another occasion, her brother, who is forever proclaiming his love for me, outdid himself by saying
Mama, I want to marry you!
Me???? You want to marry your mother?
Becuz you are the best mama and I love you sooooo much.

Well, what more can I ask for? I have two precious, beautiful kids who think the world of their mom! I am giddy in love….

A-Ism?

2010-02-11T07:14:00.001-08:00

A , please eat sweetie. Finish up your breakfast. Where will you get your energy from if you don't eat well?

I dont want to eat.I will pay money and buy energy.

Curfew

2010-02-08T09:24:00.000-08:00

We have been snow bound since Friday. The historic blizzard of 2010 started Friday afternoon, slowly and steadily first but then picked up pace and continued until Saturday evening.

We are covered now with huge mounds of snow all over us, thanks to the heavy shovelling. It's a beautiful day outside, with the sun shining in all its glory, the mounds glistening but venturing out is still not recommended.

The roads are slippery and treacherous. There have been many accidents and in short, its a mess out there.

We look at this curfew as a welcome break, spending time together as a family and its been fun and relaxing. This is the second blizzard for me since I moved to the US. The first one was in 2002 when we lived in Baltimore. Equally messy and treacherous. But it was just us (Hubby dear and I), no kids to worry about and keep occupied.

This time, however, things are different. With two kids, excited in the beginning but gradually becoming restless, its an entirely different story. They are pumped up more than ever and it is a challenge to channelize their boundless energies in a productive, useful way. We are trying and I think we have been successful to some extent.

So what are we doing to keep the kids happy and our sanity intact? We are-
- reading. Luckily I had borrowed a huge load of books from the library. So we are reading voraciously. This curfew is giving D ample opportunities to master his reading skills. He is doing a great job and I am so proud of him.
- watching movies. Thank God for Netflix and Red Box. Watching at least one movie everyday sometimes two. The kids too are enjoying a couple of their movies.
- cooking as a family and it is a riot. The kids helping out and now they have caught the 'cooking ' bug.
- Coloring. Not me, no. But the kids. They are making full use of their new marker set and activity books.
- snow activities-snow fights, sledding and a frail attempt at making a snow man. I say frail cuz the snow man looks puny and small. Nevertheless, we had fun making it.
- Story creation. Yep, the kids got involved in writing/ creating their own story books. They got excited, used their imaginations and the results were remarkable. D, especially got totally involved-he wanted to write a story for me, his Mama. His story was simple, straight forward just like him. It was earnestly written and with a lot of love. The final product was deliciously heartwarming! Leaving you with D's story and some pictures of his book.

The Storm
Once there was a mama
Then there was a storm
Then the storm stopped and then there was a rainbow
And then they lived happily ever after

Books I Read

2010-02-05T08:54:00.000-08:00

I have been wanting to do a post on books I have read in the last few months. Finding time to read is a struggle for me but I try to indulge myself whenever I can –late night, on the pot, during lunch breaks, while waiting at the doctor’s office. I am even known to read a few lines while filling up the car at the gas station. I did manage to read a few –some worth mentioning, some better forgotten. So here’s my list of worthwhile reads.

Open –Andre Agassi

Agassi begins the book by proclaiming his disdain for tennis-the game he owes everything to. He tells the story of his contradictory life with brutal honesty, gives a glimpse of how he thought of himself and his life, the difficult and challenging relationship he had with his father, his failed marriage with Brooke Shields, his descent into self-destruction, how he found love and hope in Steffi Graf, his victories not only on court but in life. It is a rare and touching look into the life of a tennis prodigy and star.

The Palace of Illusions (POI)– Chitra Divakaruni

I am not a fan of Divakaruni’s books. I couldn’t finish ‘Mistress of Spices’ and I didn’t like ‘Sister of My Heart’. But after reading MM’s effusive praise for this book and hearing my friend, Sonia speak with equal gusto, I had a change of heart. And this time, Divakaruni didn’t disappoint me at all. POI is beautifully written. I loved the way she retold the Mahabharata in the voice of Draupadi. I enjoyed the ending of the novel, as much as the beginning. I simply could not put the book down. In spite of all the violence and agonies that are inter-twined in the story, it left me with warmth in my heart at the end of the story.

Help –Kathryn Stockett

Set in 1960’s Mississippi, Kathryn Stockett’s debut novel is a compelling read about two black housekeepers and a young progressive white girl. It forced me to contemplate the divisive culture that existed back then (one that has faded away for the most part-thank goodness). The author tackled this sensitive topic with humor, warmth and honesty and brought the characters to life with her wonderful penmanship. Loved it!

As an aside, I would like to announce that I am done reading books on immigrants – their complexities, struggles living aboard, the duality they live in blah, blah, blah. Thanks to Manju Desai’s book called ‘The Immigrant’ (no surprises here!)I read while on my trip to India. I will not go into the details, I rather save my breadth. All I can say is that it was lame.

The Idol Effect

2010-02-04T05:56:00.001-08:00

Mama, when I am growned up, I will go to Hollywood, declared A.
OK. What will you do there? I asked to keep the conversation going.
I will go and sing the ABCD song. I will be a 'whock (rock) staaar'.

Yep, we have an American Idol zealot among us.

Reading Fest

2010-02-03T11:50:00.000-08:00

Reading Olympics has taken the Bora household by storm. After winning the bronze a few days ago, the boy is on a ‘reading’ rush. The quest for the silver has begun. Yesterday, the equally excited mother rushed to the local library during her lunch hour to get a handful of books. Upon seeing their new collection, the kids whooped! Excitement rushed out in a palpable wave thought their small limbs and bodies. They grabbed their individual sets and pored over them animatedly until dinnertime. Both mother and son managed to squeeze in 4 books before bedtime. The target for silver is 250 minutes of reading. They are now at 140. The boy is certain that he will meet his target by tomorrow. The mother is confident her son will.

The books read so far are:

Fly Guy, Fly High – Tedd Arnold
A Bad Case of Stripes – David Shannon
Cowgirl Kate and Cocoa: Horse in the House –Erica Silverman and Betsy Lewin
The Bones of Fred McFee – By Eve Bunting
Frog and Toad are Friends - Arnold Lobl
Harry in Trouble - Barbara Ann Porte
When Sophie gets Angry:Really, Really Angry - Molly Bang

Revolutionary Road

2010-02-01T09:32:00.000-08:00

Finally watched ‘Revolutionary Road’ by Sam Mendes this past weekend. What an artful masterpiece! Leo and Kate as the Wheelers sucked me into their struggles as a suburban married couple. They were simply brilliant! Their dynamic, intense portrayals undoubtedly took the movie to a whole new level.

photo courtsey: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Yates

Based on the book of the same name by Richard Yates, it captures a theme that is common yet so obscure among young married couples. This perceptive tale revolves around the trappings of a marriage, shattered dreams and hopes. The daily disappointments threaten to destroy what seems like a perfect marriage to the outside world. It is a story of two people who start to unravel the ties that bind them and question what they ever had in common in the first place. I am not a Sam Mendes fan but I think I have become one. His skillful direction added interest as well as depth to the storyline. It is engrossing and I came away feeling strongly about the movie, its characters and the fateful ending.

Little Known Facts

2010-01-29T12:18:00.000-08:00

I was at a leadership meeting a few days ago where we (the meeting members)had to introduce ourselves with a 'little known fact'. I thought up of an inane one for that exercise but it got me thinking - hmmm, what else? So, here are a few more.

1. I cannot stand body hair, particularly facial hair. I used to use hair removing cream on my face until one day I kept it on longer than I should have and ended up almost burning my face. So, bye-bye to cream, hello to bleach. Yes, it doesn’t remove the hair but makes it less visible and I am OK with it.
2.One of my favorite pastimes besides listening to music, watching movies and reading, is talking to myself. Especially when I am sitting on the pot. Oh, and I talk in my sleep too.
3.I have to have something sweet after my meals-be it a dessert, piece of candy, gum or meetha supaari.
4.I ate my own poop when I was 2 years old.
5.I was caught forging my dad’s signature in class 6. I failed a test and didn’t have the balls to get my father to sign my report card. So I signed it myself.
6.Once, I smoked beedi on the roadside with a local while camping in Saat Taal in the Kumaon Hills.
7.I still think I chose the wrong profession. I should have been an actor.
8.I was a professional Manipuri dancer for 5 years and performed at several local functions and contests. My teacher was schizophrenic.
9.I have physically assaulted people. In school, I slapped a boy in my class. On another occasion, my friend and I bashed up a guy in Defence Colony, New Delhi for pinching my boob and public masturbation.
10.I used to travel a lot on trains. On one such trip, my friend and I spent the entire journey in the toilet. We travelled for 7 hours and our other travel companions in that filthy, stinky restroom were a farmer and his three goats.

Books, Books, Books

2010-01-28T12:08:00.000-08:00

Reading Olympics is on at D’s school. It started two weeks ago. Last night he qualified for the bronze by reading a total of 125 minutes over the last few days. It took about 8 books to reach this milestone and there’s no stopping. D is elated, excited, enthused about his new found ability to read-yes, he read most of them. This morning he took the recording sheet to submit to his class teacher.

With a big smile and twinkle in his eyes, he told me, “Mama, I will tell Ms. Smith that I read most of the books. All BY MYSELF!! She will be SO proud of me.”

You bet, son…go toot your horn!!! Silver…watch out, here we come!

List of books read:
Jethro Byrd, Fairy Child- Bob Graham
The Blast Off Boy and Blorp: The Big Science Fair by Dan Yaccarino
The Giving Tree – Shel Silverstein
Spider Man Saves the Day- Action Figueroa
How Do Dinosaurs Learn Their Colors – Jan Yolen
Daddy’s Little Helper –Frank Endersby
Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland – Lewis Carroll and Helen Oxenbury
The Teacher from the Black Lagoon –Mike Thaler and Jared Lee

Oh Boy

2010-01-22T09:30:00.000-08:00

I sit on A’s bed to put my socks on. The territorial little tyke comments:
Why are you sitting on my bed?
Why not? I quiz her.
Because my bed is only for girls-ezz.(that’s her plural for 'girl')
Girls-ezz..well I am a girl, am I not?
No, you are a boy...just like dada, she says to me teasingly.
D, the dada is also putting on his socks right next to me atop the same bed.
I look at him and then I say to her,
I am not a boy like dada…but you know what, I don’t mind at all that you think I am one though.
D looks at me inquisitively and says,
Ha?? You are not a boy, mama.
Yep, I am not but I don’t mind being one...just like you. And you know why I say that don’t you? I ask my 5 year old son.
Yes, I know, he replies confidently.
You know? Ok, tell me why? Now I am the curious one.
Because I am handsome and you don’t mind looking like me.
Ahem!!!

Cuteness

2010-01-21T14:03:00.000-08:00

I yelled at A for spilling her milk. It’s a common blooper in the Bora household. I know spills are normal but when they average like they do (at least 3 per day), you are bound to lose it after a while. So I lost it and ended up screaming at her!

She skittered away…like a lost, scared, little bunny, her older protective brother in tow. Moments later, she came back and said:

Mama, you screamed at me ….I will go and get another mommy. Quite assertively, I must add.

Yes, my 3 year old threatened to disown me last night. But if she comes up with such entertaining one-liners every time we butt heads, I don't think I mind yelling at her at all cuz’ I love the way her cuteness comes out in such delicate moments. Yep, I intend to have fun at her expense.

The second I heard her precocious comment, my anger....whoosh, went flying out of the window. I cracked up. The kids, especially A, unsure of my reaction at first jumped right in.

Pagina

2010-01-20T09:13:00.000-08:00

A looks uncomfortable as she steps out of her bath.

What’s the matter sweetie? I ask concerned

My butt is hurting, pointing to her front.

I thought. Wow, this could be a great opportunity for me to engage my 3 year old in an anatomical lesson. So I say, That is called the vagina. It’s not the same as your butt. Yours is called a vagina and dada’s is called a penis.

A pagina? What is a pagina? penis + vagina= pagina????

It’s vagina, not pagina silly, quips her tickled brother. He then swiftly pulls his underwear down, points the index to his little wienie and says,
See, see..this is what I have...a penis. P-E-N-I-S!!!

A goes up to her brother, looks at his little organ intently, compares his with hers and then says,
Oh,I see. I have a pagina and you have a peenaas. Hmm..now I know.

*Anatomy lesson cum demonstration was a roaring success*

Forever Young

2010-01-13T07:12:00.000-08:00

Happy 83rd, Bapi!

Your joviality, optimism, zest for life and of course, handsomeness defy all conventions of aging and add a whole new meaning to it.

You are priceless - the best dad ever. Tonight, as you celebrate, have an extra shot of tequila for me as well!

Dedicating a few lines to you from one of my favorite songs of all time....

May your hands always be busy,
May your feet always be swift,
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift.
May your heart always be joyful,
May your song always be sung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.
-Bob Dylan

First Official Win

2010-01-07T14:07:00.000-08:00

D scored a 3rd place in a photography contest. His entry was a part of his elementary school’s program called ‘reflections’- a state wide program aimed at nurturing a child’s creativity and imagination. The theme of this year’s program was ‘beauty’ and participating kids had to share their own interpretation of beauty through artwork, photography, creative dance or film making. For D, photography was the natural option. He enjoys tinkering with our digital camera and has a knack for capturing things beautifully, having churned out quite a few creative pieces in the past year.

On one gorgeous fall day in October, we handed him the camera and ordered him to go out to the back yard and take pictures of things that caught his interest. He spent about 30 minutes, observing, clicking away intently and with passion. The photos he took were all good, some were excellent and we selected 4 as the entries (one was from his previous collection) for this contest.

The artist had to name his artwork so D decided to call his collection of frames, ‘amazing’. Upon asking why he chose this name, his answer was pretty straightforward… ‘cuz they are amazing, mama’. Of course!

He also had to add his own comment on ‘beauty’ and this is what he told me to write as part of his submission.
‘Beauty is everywhere. I love beautiful things because they make me smile’. Another no-brainer!

Hubby dear and I helped him get his pictures ready for the contest and his final product was submitted in early November. A few weeks later, we got a notice from school that the winners have been identified and the results of the contest will be announced on December 2nd.

On the day of the ceremony, all the entries were displayed. There were several entries for the handful of categories they had. Some of the entries by older kids were simply fantastic and upon seeing them, I had my doubts about D winning. But he did!!! His name was called out as the 3rd place winner in the Kindergarten-Grade 5 category. The 1st and the 2nd places went to kids from Grade 5.

D ran up to the front of the room and with a big smile and an air of confidence, accepted his certificate and his 3rd place ribbon. A, was there to cheer her beloved brother on and squealed, “Mama, dada won! dada won!.”

His entry has been submitted to the county level contest and if he wins there, it gets to be an official entry at the state wide competition.

It doesn’t really matter how far it goes. This FIRST official win has already catapult his esteem and confidence to the next level.

And as parents, we couldn’t be prouder of our little man!

The photos that made him a winner……

Blah!

2010-01-06T14:08:00.000-08:00

2010 for me, has started rather ruefully. I am restless, frustrated, unsure about my career. My professional life, the direction its taking. I feel hopeless, lost. I have been a victim of this cluelessness in the past but this time something’s different. Unsettingly different.

I have options –not many but most are unrealistic given where I am in my career and limitations set by priorities on the personal front. The promising ones ironically gnaw at my confidence, weaken my self-esteem. I am scared of failure, that I will recklessly move on to something else only to realize that I made a grave mistake.

This morning CNN announced that only 45% Americans are satisfied with their current jobs. Job satisfaction is at its lowest point in 20 years (www.conference-board.com). This makes me a part of the ‘other’ group – the dissatisfied lot. It feels good not to be the only one going through this rut but on the other hand, this slump in the satisfaction rate will narrow my options, limit my choices for a better job. Stiffer competition, tougher luck.

My mind is going crazy with a myriad of thoughts, options, some tangible, doable while others lofty. I know I need some figuring out to do- a whole lot of it. But I don’t know where and how to start. I feel like a loser-unsuccessful, insufficient, doing meaningless work.

Vanity is in Her Genes

2009-12-29T09:33:00.000-08:00

A, like most little girls, loves to wear dresses. But...she wants to wear a dress every time, all the time. It is butt cracking cold here and one needs to bundle up well to save oneself from the menacing winds. But our little princess just wants to romp around in her dresses. Why? Cuz,I look pretty in a dress, Mama. (What, mama, don’t you know that? You silly woman! The girl digs her dresses. So what if it is minus 20 degrees outside?)

In my absence the past two weeks, Hubby dear had a tussle with his precious daughter every morning as he got her ready to school. He wanted her covered up in jeans and sweaters, she wanted her dress. And her explanation was her teachers say she looks pretty only when she wears a dress. Hubby dear was so frustrated by the end of it all that he humbly requested her teachers to say she looks pretty when she is in her jeans too!

So the drama has been on for a while now. This morning as I got her ready, she picked out a longish shirt thinking it was a dress and I managed to get her to agree to wear a pair of jeans with it. She seemed quite satisfied with the overall look (yes, this little wannabe fashion diva) but she told me she will not talk to her father. Surprised I asked her why. And this was her response.

No mama. I will not talk to him because he will not say I look pretty. That’s why!

Sure enough, when he greeted her, she turned her face away. But he knew right away why she did that and as soon as he remarked how pretty she looked, she ran and gave her father the biggest hug ever.

It’s all cute and funny now but I am worried and you know very well why.

Post Travel Blues

2009-12-29T08:33:00.000-08:00

Christmas was a blur, mainly because I flew over the Atlantic the day before. Jet lag-I tell you. The older you get, the harder it is to shake it!

The kids were thrilled with all the presents Santa got for them. Too many if you ask me. Next year they each get one. Only one toy. And we plan to celebrate Christmas differently, by doing something noble like serving food at a homeless shelter or some such community service.

I applaud Hubby dear for holding the fort down for two whole weeks while I was away in aamchi desh. The onus of buying Christmas gifts and wrapping them fell entirely on him (besides taking care of the kids and the household) and he did a glorious job. I have to admit, I need to trust him more with his kid rearing abilities. I think I do now. My next sole trip will be longer for sure!

It’s been bittersweet for me to come back home. By the end of the trip, I began missing the kids terribly. So what could be better than having two squealing kids tightly hug me, plant gazillion sweet kisses and proclaiming how much they missed me. The bestest feeling ever! A, kept saying and she still does after almost a week, Mama, I missed you yesterday!

I am back to my life, my kids and hubby. But I miss the pampering, the good food, the closeness and proximity to my folks, siblings and friends. I miss chatting them up, having animated, deep conversations about the world in general. I miss the physical closeness , warmth and hospitality of the people, the smells, beautiful colors and hues, the aroma of a fresh cup of Assam tea, the scrumptious food – fried fish, murighonto, khaar, juicy rasgollas, spicy samosas, bhelpuris, appams, keema paranthas, fried Bombay Duck, idlis, momos and even basic dal and rice. For some reason, the dal cooked at home is always tastier than what I churn out here albeit using the same ratios and spices.

photo source: www.trekearth.com/assam

Delhi is an altered city. I don’t recognize it any more given the changes it’s going through. There is progress, hope, enthusiasm, power oozing out from all corners of the city. Guwahati, too has progressed in its own chaotic way. There is a method to its madness and the locals are embracing the changes the best way they know.

photo source: www.trekearth.com/delhi

Although short, the trip was exciting and needless to say, fun. I came back rejuvenated yet sad about being miles away from loved ones. This distance, the absence of togetherness nags me. But the kids, their antics, affability, cheerfulness and unconditional love make it easier on me.

To my family and friends in India- I MISS you. You are in my thoughts and prayers. . Thank you for yet another memorable stay. Wishing you a wonderful and magical new year! Muah...

'Tis The Season

2009-11-30T15:40:00.000-08:00

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire,
Jack Frost nipping on your nose,
Yuletide carols being sung by a choir,
And folks dressed up like Eskimos......

....They know that Santa's on his way;
He's loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh.
And every mother's child is going to spy,
To see if reindeer really know how to fly.

And so I'm offering this simple phrase,
To kids from one to ninety-two,
Although its been said many times, many ways,
A very Merry Christmas to you.

Well, Christmas has come to the Bora household a tad early. The decorations are up, the tree is all lit up and the kids are waiting for Santa's visit.

One of the centerpieces

Confluence of cultures-An Indian candle holder adds more color to the holiday decorations

Snowman sitting happily on the fireplace mantle-waiting excitedly to welcome Mr. Clause.

One of my favorite ornaments

Another centerpiece

Hallelujah!!!

2009-11-25T10:48:00.000-08:00

Our girl is potty trained. Finally.

She feels so incredibly good about it that she wants to sit on it even when she doesn't need to. 2500 times a day. Am I complaining? Noooooo. Will take this any day over diapers. Woo-hoo!

Now I can use the money we will save to buy more shoes. Shameful!

She Is MY Girl

2009-11-19T06:19:00.000-08:00

When she is sad or cries, she wants to cuddle up with mama.

When she eats, she wants mama to sit next to her.

When she wakes up in the morning or from her nap, the first word to come out of her tiny mouth is ‘Mama’

When she is in the stroller, she wants mama to push it.

When she is out on a walk, she wants to hold mama’s hand.

When she wants to hear a story, she wants mama to read it to her.

When she is coloring or working on a puzzle, she wants her mama’s help.

When she is sleepy, she wants mama to sing her a lullaby.

It's like she needs me ALL the time. No matter how overwhelming this may be at times, I love how my daughter is enamoured by me. She is my perfect piece of proceline, a rare treasure and just as she is nuts about me, I am about her. Totally.

Observation (As in "Observed")

2009-11-17T07:07:00.000-08:00

Last night, D was working on the word ‘observed’. He had to unscramble the word, write its meaning, draw a picture about it and also frame a sentence with it.

Hubby dear helped him unscramble, explained the meaning to him and left it to him to frame a sentence.

Hmmm, to look, to watch…he said.

How should I write a sentence? Hmmm, let’s see…...Oh Mama!! I got it. I have one.

I 'observed' a movie!

It really isn't hard at all to figure out D’s favoritest thing in life. For him, everything he does or is involved in ends with movies.

Weekend Potty Training Episodes

2009-11-16T12:33:00.000-08:00

- The girl pooped once and peed a countless times in her underwear yesterday. The family room carpet will soon have pee stains on it. God help us! The more I think about this, the more I want to rip off the carpets and replace them with wood.

- A couple of panties and some pants were discarded since they were damaged beyond repair. I am now looking for her brother’s old action hero underwears cuz’ I refuse to buy any new ones.

- The girl suppresses her urge to pee but the minute the diaper is put on during nap time and bed time, she unloads like as if there is no tomorrow. Her diapers are stinkier than ever! And yes, they weigh a ton!

- Reminders that there will be no more use of diapers after the weekend are being happily echoed by the little tyke. Yes, mama, no more diapers after the weekend, OK!

At this rate, forget weekends, I see her in diapers for the next 20 years. Oh…I need more patience to deal with this.

My Girl Loves Drawing

2009-11-06T13:47:00.000-08:00

She has created her own alphabet set-check out her name in this one.....

I love her stick figures-this one especially is my favorite.....'mama' seems to be a bit peeved about something-she ain't smiling!

Halloween 2009

2009-11-02T10:52:00.000-08:00

Optimus Prime and Bumble Bee (no, not the Autobot but the one that stings) had a blast of a time trick or treating with their friends, BuzzLight Year and Minnie Mouse on Halloween night.

The clouds worried us a little but the rain stayed away long enough for the kids to collect a gazillion candy. I sneakily gave away some to the other little goblins without their knowledge. They will never know given the loot they got. At least a dozen went straight into their tummies immediately after they got back home. They plonked themselves on the living room carpet, unloaded their treats, compared notes and merrily ate one after the other and would have continued if the grown-ups hadn’t intervened. Thanks to the sugar high, they stayed up till 1 am bringing the house down and almost pushing the neighbors to call 911.

Phew! What a night! Chaotic, fun but thoroughly memorable!

As we dragged our tired selves to bed in the wee hours of the morning, the kids still awake and alert, announced their costumes for next year’s Halloween party- D wants to be a pirate and A, a princess!

Let’s see how many times this decision changes until the next one comes along.

A Bleak Future

2009-10-26T12:54:00.000-07:00

My mother is showing early signs of dementia. She is acutely forgetful nowadays, sounds repetitive with her questions and observations.

She is 73 years old.

Dementia does not run in my mom’s family. It run in my dad’s. My paternal grandmother (Aita) eventually succumbed to Alzheimer’s, when she was 83 years old, almost 15 years ago. Alzheimer’s debilitated her. She regressed and suffered quietly. We all became strangers to her including the 8 kids she raised. It was a sad end to a vibrant life.

Is my mother on the same path as Aita? I don’t know, am not sure. But after yesterday’s conversation with her, I feel this enormous sense of hopelessness, fear of what the future holds for us. She sounded foggy and incoherent as I tried to wrap my head around her mental state.

It breaks my heart to see this once successful, brilliant, sharp woman losing herself to this illness. Granted, our memory becomes weak as we age but the rate at which hers is failing is rather scary. I worry for her tremendously and for my father, who has become her primary care giver. She also has diabetes which makes her situation even more complicated. She has been on insulin for almost a decade now. Her sugar level yo-yos just like my weight although dad has managed to keep it under control most of the time.

I have to admit, without dad’s constant care and diligence, I am not sure if mom would have survived this long. We all know that doctors make the worst patients-mom is a quintessential example of this notion. My dad is keeping her alive and for an 82 year old man, it’s not an easy feat.

I go home in a few weeks to be with them. No kids, no hubby accompanying me. This trip is just for my parents-to spend some quality time with them. I look forward to seeing them again but my trepidations get the best of me. My mom’s condition will obviously not progress so quickly but even the slightest change in her mental state will make it harder for me to accept the reality of it all. Why her? How much worse is it going to get? How will we take care of her? Is it going to be as difficult and painful as it was when Aita was struck with the disease? What changes do we need to make in order to accommodate this creeping disease?

Too many questions but no solid answers. I don’t know what’s to come but hopefully it will become clearer as we face the inevitable.

First Parent Teacher Conference

2009-10-15T17:17:00.000-07:00

After getting a disciplinary note from the teacher, I must admit, I wasn't too sure how the parent teacher conference would go.

I was unnecessarily worried.

He is a good kid, said his teacher earnestly and sincerely. The guidance at home is paying off as he is ahead of the curve. He has already met the year end standards in some of the subjects.

I am so proud of my little man. More surprised with his confidence. He had a hard time adjusting in the beginning but now he loves it. He looks forward to school, learning with his friends and teacher. He comes home excited and enthusiastically talks about the special activities he does at school. I couldn't be asking for more. Really. He is a happy kid, who is doing well and is getting along with his friends.

When I asked him what he thought his teacher would say about him before we met her, this was his response:

Mama, she will probably say that I am doing fabulous at school.

Well, the teacher was not as complimentary as he was but he definitely came quite close to predicting her verdict.

All I Need is Food

2009-10-12T16:21:00.000-07:00

I am foodie. A flaming one at that. Yep it's one thing I will make sure I have plenty of if I am stranded on an island. And I love good food..who doesn't after all? I believe I was sent to earth just to eat. Nope,I don't eat to live. I LIVE TO EAT.

This long weekend I did what I do best. I ate. Without any qualms for the extra calories, the fat that's getting deposited unevenly and uglily over my body. Do I care about the weight I am putting on? Of course I do. I lament about it every single day but when there is a platter of delicious, scrummy, yummy food in front of me, I happily and conveniently ignore my weight woes and focus on what's in front of me. Yes, my other motto in life is carpe diem! Something I follow religiously when it comes to food. On Saturday, my dear cousin invited me to an evening of exotic Assamese cuisine-duck curry, khaar ...dried fish chutney and mutton liver. It was a food mecca as far as I was concerned and did I seize the moment?

You bet I did.

My Beautiful Daughter

2009-10-05T13:51:00.000-07:00

A precious little flower
that is in constant bloom
It seems like only yesterday
that we shared a breath
but now it seems like tomorrow
you will leave and I'll be left.
A tiny little angel
that always is in flight
as soon as you came into my life
you brought me so much light.
Your beauty is so stunning
your smile makes me melt
I'm so proud to be your mommy
It's the best I've ever felt.
Oh perfect little princess
with you I'm so in love
every night before I dream
I thank the lord above.
How did I get so lucky
to have as sweet of a gift as you
If ever you should need me
there's nothing I wouldn't do.

-Anonymous

Happy 3rd sweet pea....

Prelude To A Birthday

2009-10-01T13:11:00.000-07:00

My spunky, free-spirited daughter’s birthday is next week. She turns three. Yes, three to my chagrin.

Anyway, so this morning on our way to her pre-school, singing, rhyming, talking just as we always do, I asked her…
Hey, it’s your birthday on Monday…how old are you going to be, sweetie?
She goes, Yayy, Mama! It is my birthday and I will be three thousand years old!

*I got to admit- she does sound like a 3000 years old imp sometimes!*

Applying What He's Learned

2009-09-25T09:14:00.000-07:00

Mama, I learned about bears hibernating today, quips D after he comes back from school.
Oh, really…hibernating ha? Do you know what it means?
No, not really...
It means you are resting, doing nothing.
Hmmm..
Later, he was in his room, quietly playing with his toys. This is somewhat rare since he is always playing, causing a rucus together with his sister, his usual and all time playmate.
Curious, I asked, hey D, what’s up? What are you doing and why are you so quite? Where is your sister?
Mama, I am hibernating….

A No-Nonsense Mite/ A Boy with Simple Dreams

2009-09-22T06:23:00.000-07:00

5 little ducklings went out for a walk
Over the hills and far away.....

A was singing the other day as we drove home from an engagement. I decided to sing along but she shushed me and said:
You have to be quiet, Mama.
I don’t pay attention to her and when she repeated the song, I sang along again. This time, she told me,
Mama, you have to be reeallllyyy reeaaaalllyy quiet OK? This song will not sound good.

*Snubbed, I busied myself with something else*

D’s favorite pastime is watching movies. I tell ya, if he had his way, he would happily watch movie marathons! Yesterday he tells me, Mama, when I grow up, I want to be a movie man.
A movie man, you mean an actor?
No mama, not an actor?
A director? Wow! D, go ahead, be a director when you grow up. You can make blockbusters and who knows, perhaps even win an Oscar, what do you say?
No, not a director, Mama. A movie guy...
OK...what does a movie guy do, D?
The movie guy is the one who gives out tickets at the movie theatre!

*I was clearly an overexcited mom*

First Disciplinary Note

2009-09-18T09:35:00.000-07:00

The note came yesterday duly signed by the teacher. I hoped that D will not get any but I guess I was wrong. Who was I kidding?

I am mighty proud of how I handled the situation given my short fuse. Instead of piling on to him, I tried to understand his perspective and it helped me keep my calm.

The note said that ‘D did not follow directions during centers’ and requested parents to talk to their ward about the importance of appropriate behavior.
My gentle, reserved, shy son defied his teacher by not forming a word and writing his name with magnetic letters during center time. When I questioned him, he said, someone else dumped all their letters on his pile and he couldn’t do what he was supposed to do. And that he put his head down for a few minutes because he wanted to which according to him was not approved by his teacher, Miss. Smith.

His story and actions made some sense to me and I am certain that he didn’t mean to not listen to his teacher. I think he just couldn’t articulate to his teacher why he couldn’t carry out the task and also it didn’t quite cross his mind to let his classmate know that what she did hampered his activity.

He was upset talking about this whole incident for he is one who doesn’t like it when someone calls out his mistakes. He will throw a fit, a tantrum refusing to accept blame and fault. He still has to understand that mistakes happen, all the time-that it is ok to makes errors, that we can learn a great deal from them, become better. I am not worried about this because they are people well into their adulthood who still dont get it. (Oh yeah- I have blood relatives who drive me nuts with their arrogance and supreme egos.) And he is just 5. I think comprehension will come from a whole load of reinforcement.

Hence, when I brought the note up last night, he was haughty in the beginning but after much explanation, he came around. I ended up telling him that listening to his teacher is his first and foremost duty and that he needs to share, communicate as best he can if he feels something or someone is hindering his abilities. That he also needs to bring it to his teacher’s attention. This is the problem with public schools. There are 21 kids in his class- a huge number for one teacher to manage and take care of. Given the size and composition of the class, it is impossible for the teacher to give her utmost attention to each kid and keep track of what each does every single minute. Hence a lot of it depends on the kid as well. I know it is hard to teach a 5 year old the importance of standing up and articulating his needs precisely, especially if the temperament of the kid in question is mild mannered but this is something both hubby dear and I have been telling him repeatedly. He needs to be told, he needs to understand that if he doesn’t, he will be taken advantage of and perhaps even bullied. Yes, the B word – it gives me nightmares when I think of my son.

With a heavy yet patient heart, I signed the note and placed it back in his folder. I told him that he needs to apologize to his teacher for not listening and inform her that he will be more attentive in the future. He was OK at the end of it all. I think he understood what happened yesterday at school is unacceptable and not appreciated not just by his teacher but his parents as well. Well, we will have to wait and see - after all, it was a mistake on his part and there is a lesson to be learned from it. Until then, I will keep my fingers crossed and pray that I do not see another note in his folder.

Note: While I am getting all het up and blogging about this dreaded 'note', guess what hubby dear's reaction is. He says, "well, he is not the only one to get a note, you know. I am sure most kids do." Although he doesn't dismiss it entirely and that there is a whole lot of truth in what he says, I just can't get how relaxed he can be about it. I guess it is a man thing. However, the more I think about it, the more I realize that it was not really a serious offence on D's part. At least I didn't get a note that said my child bit, spit or made fun of someone in class. I better not...and if I do..well, will deal with it then!

Potty Training Woes

2009-09-17T10:48:00.000-07:00

We have been trying to potty train A for the past few days. Someone once told me that this transition can be smoother if you entice the child with underwear of their favorite characters. They supposedly get excited about wearing them thus making the process of diaper weaning easier. Taking this advice seriously, I bought A a couple of princess undies (was actually looking for Dora ones but couldn’t find her size) and tried potty training her last night.

She readily agreed to wear her new princessey underwear but only for a few seconds. I guess the feeling of cotton (around her tiny, cute butt) made her a bit uncomfortable so she insisted on wearing a diaper too. When I refused, she informed me that she had to poop and wanted to sit on the potty. Excited, I rushed her to the potty, sat her down- 5 ..10..12 minutes went by and there was no poop whatsoever. I looked at her questioningly and she quickly told me that she was done. She didn’t have to poop anymore.
We went on like this for at least an hour- back and forth. Hubby dear or I desperately telling her to keep the pantie on without the diaper and she pretending to sit on the potty to poop. At one time, after she sat happily on the potty for about 7 minutes, no poop or pee in sight, A calmly got off the toilet, pulled her pantie off and handed it back to me and said,

Here Mama, keep the princess pantie. You can potty train me later OK? You can potty train me tomorrow. I am done!

This was one of the few sincere, dedicated attempts to potty train our toddler. The way it turned out last night, I am seriously doubtful. I am already having dreadful visions of her going to college in one of those darn papery things. And from last night’s results, it’s very clear who is calling the shots with this one.

Keep It Simple, Will Ya?

2009-09-14T12:08:00.000-07:00

I had a long winded talk with my school going son that covered some of the following points:
* Go to school smiling
* Come back home smiling
* Make new friends
* Drink ample water and pee when you need to
* Eat your lunch
* Listen to the teacher
* Stand tall
* Be kind/considerate to your friends

But the basic gist / essence of what I conveyed was this-remember to have FUN and stay HAPPY.

Feeling supremely confident in my parenting abilities, I decided to revisit the conversation before he left for school this morning.

So, what is the most important thing you will do today at school, D?

I will pee, mama , replied sonny boy, with a satisfied grin on his face.

The 'Serena' Debacle

2009-09-13T11:44:00.000-07:00

What a fantastic women's semis it was until the controversial ending. Serena defaulted, got two point penalties (one for racket abuse and the other for threatening the line referee) and was asked to withdraw from the match, leaving everyone including her opponent bewildered.

It is a shame given Serena's incredible talent and glorious track record. Controlling ones' emotions during a crucial match like this one is tough particularly when one is fighting to stay in the game but given the arena, give one's stature in the sports world, it is important one maintains a cool head. It's easier said and done, of course but what transpired last night between the world no. 2 and her unseeded opponent in front of 25, 000 people at Arthur Ashe is something that Serena as well as her fans will take time to recover from. It is one of those terrible, should-not-have-happened moments. The damage deep, the reputation substantially tarnished. I am sure Serena will come back with more vigor and confidence next year but yesterday's controversy will certainly be one of her greatest regrets. I was sad to see this iconic American being booed off by the crowd as she hurriedly walked off the court. Booed away by fellow Americans on American soil.

Kim, her opponent, on the other hand, showed utmost grace and dignity. What a comeback for this mother of a toddler who almost got written off with her early retirement. Amazing story, incredible sportsmanship. I wouldn't be surprised if she goes home with the coveted championship trophy. In my book, she is already a winner!

Edited to add: I watched the post match news conference and my respect for Serena has diminished. She claims that she didnt mean to threaten the line referee...but what she said to that poor lady will give anyone nightmares. She owes an apology to her, something I am sure she hasnt considered at all. It's a pity. Really.

9/11

2009-09-11T11:29:00.000-07:00

“Some plane crashed into the World Trade Tower”, remarked my boss, rather nonchalantly when the first piece of news broke on that beautiful September morning. Soon this nonchalance turned into fear, anxiety and anger as we watched glued to the TV screens the terrifying plight of New Yorkers running for safety, fearing for their lives, calling loved ones frantically as they experienced the terror as it unveiled.

I vegetated the next few weeks in our living room couch watching news after news, stories after stories of this inhuman, insane act of terror. I still shudder thinking about those helpless people in the towers and those on the target planes. What were their last thoughts racing through their mind? Did they have time to react? Were they still hopeful? It was a moment of sheer desperation and fear- something I still feel and sense when I watch documentaries and reports on the events of that fateful day.

It was my second year in this country and this tragic event simply shook my core, made me question my decision to move, made me unsure of the future ahead. It’s been 8years all right but the fear and shock that was instilled that day is still there, tucked away, somewhere in the physical and mental crevices waiting for just one setback, one misstep to take head. Today I go about my life. Just like any other day. There are memorial services being held in different corners of the country but the loss suffered by loved ones is irreplaceable, irreparable. For many the void is becoming darker and deeper with each passing year. They are still seeking justice. They are still seeking answers. Answers that are hard to come by. Answers that may never be found.

Another One Crosses Over

2009-09-10T08:56:00.000-07:00

Just got word that Niru Jethai (maa’s older sister) passed away. She was in her late 70’s- a poet, an author, a teacher , once beautiful and charming who lost hope and optimism, the zest to live after her son died mysteriously about 10 years ago. He was her youngest, the apple of her eye who got taken away from her tragically, unexpectedly. As a mother, she suffered her loss silently and in this pain, she gave up on herself. She let life’s worries , troubles, complexities pull her into this dark, debilitating emotional abyss that no one could save her from.

I don’t want to remember the way she was or what became of her in her time of death. I want to celebrate her for who she was for most of her life. She was a gorgeous woman with flawless skin, beautiful long tresses, who sang like an angel, who had a smile that could easily light up a room. She persevered, she labored, she raised two sons. She was their rock, their beacon especially after they lost their father to a heart attack. Yes, Jethai became a young widow but the hard times did not deter her from fulfilling her dreams both as a mom and as a professional.

RIP Niru Jethai. You will be missed, dearly.

Striking The Balance

2009-09-09T14:11:00.000-07:00

What’s in a school lunch box can really spark a myriad of thoughts. One can build stories around the lunch box contents- who prepared it-the mom, dad or someone else? Was it home-cooked with a lot of TLC or store bought and thrown in to the box in a jiffy?

I remember my tiffin at school. I wasn’t particularly fond of what I took to school- what was put in that tiny red and white square box. In fact, there were times when I was ashamed of the contents. It often used to be a bread and jam sandwich with maybe some biscuits or sweets thrown in for an after lunch snack. Nobody wanted me to share my tiffin with them. I didn’t have a warm chicken sandwich to offer or fried rice or roti with yummy paneer curry and mango pickle. None of that. My lunch was boring, insipid in a plain looking container. On rare occasions, when I had something delectable or yummy, I flaunted and offered it generously to everyone around me.

I blamed my mother for this. Not because she didn’t come up with a better menu for my lunch box but because she was a working mom and just didn’t have time to fix my lunch box in the morning. She used to leave for work before I left for school delegating this task to one of the maids. And often, she didn’t even have the time to properly train the help in the house. I remember secretly admiring many of my friends stay at home mom’s- the traditional homemakers who waited for them with warm milk and cookies as they returned from school, who made fabulous mutton curry and fried rice, who knitted sweaters and woolly scarves, and sowed clothes for them. I wished and prayed my mom was like any other moms I knew.

And the truth of the matter is I still wish she was a stay at home instead of this successful, independent, ambitious person she is. She is in her 70’s now and is still working. I admire her commitment , determination and her need for success, to be ‘numero uno’ in everything she does. She has had a tremendous track record as a no nonsense lady who will fight tooth and nail for the less fortunate, for someone who she felt was compromised or shortchanged. She is honesty personified. I am extremely proud of her but despite her successes and indomitable presence, I feel I lost out a lot growing up. She mothered her career not her kids.

I often wonder if my mom struggled as much as I do in finding the right balance between work and home life. She committed herself wholeheartedly to her job and it definitely paid off no doubt but at what costs? At the cost of losing her identity as a mom to her kids? At the cost of her child wishing that she stayed at home and not work?

Why am I bringing this up now? Well, I have two kids of my own now and being their mother has helped me realize and understand the power of motherhood. It is powerful, daunting yet so fulfilling. I work too. I have a flourishing career but nothing I do at work is more satisfying and important than my duty as a mom to my children. Whether I am helping them get ready, or reading a story at bedtime or screaming at them for not listening, it is worth every single moment. It is all about them, who they are and what I hope for them to become. I would rather get to work late than do a shoddy job with the lunch box. I want my kid to eat well and stay focused at school. I want him to know that I care what he eats at school as much as I do at home. I want him to flaunt his tiffin contents proudly.

The debate between SAHM and working moms is never ending and quite an interesting one at that. For a long time, I would favor working moms and wonder how a person can just bide away her time staying at home. How much can one do with the kids? Don’t they get bored? Don’t they want to do something worthwhile, constructive instead of whiling away time at home? But of course, there was this tremendous shift in perspective when I had my babies. Now I often contemplate quitting and spending more time with my kids but I know that it is probably the worst decision I could ever make. I was talking to a dear friend last night who just informed me that she quit her job and is planning not to return to work for at least a few years until her daughter starts school. It is commendable that she is able to make such a decision. She sees this as an opportune time to take this step, be the mother she wants to be to her child. I wish her all the luck. I know that as much as I wish I stayed at home, I will start missing work as soon as I do so. So it really is a Catch 22 for me. But I know that no matter how much I enjoy being financially independent and acquiring new skills with a progressive career, I would give up my job in a heartbeat if I feel it is the right thing to do.

Sibling Love

2009-09-09T06:20:00.000-07:00

Mama, A is a cutie pie, isn’t she? asks D as I am getting them ready for school.

Yes she is.

She really is! and goes and gives his little sister a peck on her cheek.

To kick this sibling lurve up a notch I say,

You know D, you are lucky to have A as your cutie pie sister and she is lucky to have you as her cutie pie brother. Don’t you think?

No, mama, I am NOT a cutie pie…I am handsome.

A Glimmer Of Hope a.k.a Ved

2009-09-03T07:23:00.000-07:00

There has been a slight improvement in D since yesterday. The reason - he met someone on the bus! Someone who made him very comfortable. Another Indian boy named Ved. They have already become fast friends with Ved inviting D over for a play date. Yes, already!

I am so happy that he has struck up a friendship with someone. He has been taking names of his new classmates since day one but am not sure the types of alliances he has developed so far. But with Ved, it seems different. This morning, he looked forward to waiting for the bus with Ved and sharing the seat with him. No tantrum, no tears, no sadness. He kept mentioning how this new found friend lives in the same community as my in laws and how easy it will be for them to hook up.

Due to odd transportation hours, I have yet to drop D at the bus stop. I dropped him at school the first week but since past Monday, he has been taking the bus. The stop being close to my in-laws house. (Thank God! Thank God!) Hence, they have been escorting D to and fro from the stop. But with this new development, new friendship, I am thinking of reorganizing my work hours to be able to drop him off at least one day next week. Just to meet Ved, the friendly boy. I want to meet this sweet child who has made my boy’s life less stressful, who has brought a smile to his face and perhaps even changed his outlook toward school. Let’s hope I meet his parents too and who knows may be even organize a play date with this little angel in disguise.

Note to self: I just read what I wrote yesterday. This overnight transformation is just fantastic.I just hope it sustains! I hope there are more kids like Ved who make D's school experience an enjoyable one. I must meet Ved next week!

Mighty Tantrum

2009-09-02T12:48:00.000-07:00

Over two consecutive days. Phew!!!

I need child relief! Anyone??

D has terrible separation anxiety. He is not enjoying school at all. He wants to stay at home, with his grandparents. The only thing he likes is when he gets on a bus to come home. But when he goes over his day with me, he sounds excited about the things he accomplished at school. So far, his school reports have come back with glowing remarks from his teacher. I look at his work and I see a child who is diligent and sincere. Yet, he looks sad, anxious.

I am lost, confused, clueless.

My heart aches for him. He is such a gentle soul, somebody who needs time to acclimate to all the newness around him. His excitement was short lived and I am losing an ouch of hope every morning as I struggle to get him ready for school.
I keep telling myself,give him time..he will be fine. I know he will be as this is what we went through when he started pre-school and summer camp as well but for reasons unknown, I am prematurely losing all my patience and tolerance. I have doubts about everything- his ability to come through, my ability as his mom, the school...all of it.

I am truly at a loss.

After School Conversations

2009-08-28T14:41:00.000-07:00

What did you like best about school today?
There was a lot of fun and I liked the fun.

What did you not like about school today?
It rained. We couldnt go out and play.

Did you meet your friends?
Yes, I meeted them. It was fun.

Do you like your new teacher?
Yes, I like her very much.

Is she as good as Ms. Dee? (pre school teacher)
She is more good than Ms. Dee.

And Off He Went

2009-08-26T15:58:00.000-07:00

Excited, thrilled, proud yet ambivalent and apprehensive. A confident boy with an over sized school bag yet nervous of what the day will unravel.

He returned HAPPY! Phew!!

During our evening recap, I asked him what he liked best about his first day at the big school? "When we were looking for clues in the hallway", he replied. One of the games he played that got him super thrilled. When I asked him what he did not like about his first day at the big school, he shyly responded,
"I didn’t finish my lunch". Yes, he only had a piece of string cheese for lunch. Rest all came back untouched. Had this been another day, I would have thrown a fit but I let go. His comfortable, uneventful transition was more important today than what he ate. Not for long though....

Not Ready/ Bad Mom

2009-08-24T08:05:00.000-07:00

We took D for his kindergarten open house last Friday. He wasn’t all that thrilled to meet his new teacher. She also wasn’t particularly warm. At least that’s how I felt. Perhaps she was too busy greeting and answering parents concerns. But someone told me later that she is one of the best the school has. Hence will cut her some slack.

I am very skeptical about this kindergarten business. I know I am not ready at all to send my baby boy to school. But it’s too late now. Registrations done, open house attended. He is starting school tomorrow.

This morning I tried pumping him up, asked him if he was ready for school. I love my lunch box is the reply I get. He got himself a pretty neat looking Spiderman lunch box and that is ALL he is excited about. And also the fact that he gets to come home at 3 p.m. Early, mama! Yiyyee!!!

So what am I to think about his first day at school? I am scared, apprehensive and nervous. I drop him off at 8:30 am and I envision a clingy, sad, teary eyed D refusing to let go off me. God Help me!

I plan to dedicate a few more minutes this evening talking to him about what he should and should not expect from school. Hopefully this and all the talk that we have been having the past few weeks will make this transition an easy one for him. Maybe I should lure him by mentioning the school library one more time, something he loved spending time in on the day of the open house. Who knows, will see. GOD, IF YOU ARE REALLY LISTENING, PLEASE DO HELP ME!

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The Case of the Discarded Cookie

Speaking of God helping me tomorrow, the chances of me getting any support from him are pretty slim. Simply because I sinned yesterday. Now He knows that I have sinned many a times in my life- sins that I am completely ashamed of even now. But yesterday’s sin is graver than any since I committed it as a mother.

This is what happened.

A, my little imp begged for a chocolate chip cookie to snack on. This is after she munched on a boatload of junk throughout the day. Another cookie??? I was so tired of negotiating with her that I gave in. What the heck…go for it, just eat away. And just as expected, she didn’t finish it. She ate half of it and left the rest on the kitchen counter. A little later, I picked it up and threw the half eaten cookie into the trash. Something I am very good at. Anything half eaten is trash for me unless of course it is something that appeals to my taste buds. Then I happily holler- DO NOT WASTE FOOD and quickly polish off the leftovers. Another reason for my expanding girth.

Now I don’t fancy chocolate chip cookies. Not at all. I find them rather sweet and too chocolatey for my liking unlike Hubby Dear, who can live on them. Just like an apple keeps the doctor away, a chocolate chip cookie or cookies will keep Hubby dear utterly happy. Sometimes I feel his loyalty towards this damn snack is more than it is towards me. Sigh! Anyway, so back to the case of the discarded cookie.

Hubby dear decided to empty the trash and as he was doing so, he noticed the sad looking cookie on top of the pile. His immediate reaction was WHO THREW THIS COOKIE?

Before I could answer, D said, “Papa, it was A. She was eating but she didn’t finish it. And she threw it.” Tattletaling on his sister for no rhyme or reason. Now this is where I could have intervened, corrected D for concocting a story and owned up. BUT I DIDN'T. I let Hubby dear believe that the culprit is our little innocent daughter. Hubby dear took off on this rant of how precious food is and sternly told A how she should have given the half eaten cookie to him instead of throwing it away. I COULD HAVE FINISHED IT – YOU THREW AN EDIBLE COOKIE INTO THE TRASH…FOR NO REASON AT ALL..SUCH A WASTE, sounding all very serious and disappointed. Of course, this led to A tearing up. Poor thing, she didn’t know any better and ended up apologizing to her dad for something she hadn’t done.

And what did I do while all this was going on? NOTHING! I busied myself with something else and pretended not to hear what transpired. So much for being this nice mother that I think I am. For redemptive measures, I tried hugging my little daughter extra tight last night but it didn’t work. I am still riding on guilt waves.

Tsk, tsk...I am a mean, conniving mom! It will be long before I recover from this one.