the weekend

was an average one. Im am now digging average weekends. As in mundane, I've seen this before kind of days. The family came over for lunch, I played outside with the kids, yelled at, made up with kids and am looking fwd to next weekend when my mom will be here for the first time. Wonder what changes that will bring. This will be the first time my in-laws will be seeing me with my mom, living a daily life. Strange right? I know.

In other news - I was about to write a post for the longest time called - Marriage the Great Leveller. Then I ran out of steam...or ADD struck I dont know.

Did you ever get the feeling that before you get married, the competition, the yardsticks to measure your success are very different from what they are once you're married? Once you're hitched, its like you've reached a halo-worthy stand or position of sorts. Once you have children many of the people who messed with your head and feelings just fall by the wayside and stop picking on you. Just why is marriage such a leveller? Or having kids? Isnt a person with neither of those adages to their rostrum of achievements not worthy of being an achiever in their own right? Why is marriage and having children such an achievement anyway? Its the easiest thing I think. Its another thing that the marriage itself and raising those children is anything but simple and people will choose to look the other way as long as you show you're trying to make the most of it. As long as you're hitched and procreating, you're left alone for the most part.

I had an uncle who would lie while introducing me to others saying I had done my MBA like was making me feel my choice of deciding what I wanted to do with my life studywise wasnt good enough for him or his friends. Now though, Im talked about quite proudly bcos I happen to be here, in a reasonably decent marriage and kids to show for it. Seems quite stupid to me.

I could go on but I'll spare you.

In other news - I was at the kids' playground 2 days ago and four 7-th or 8th graders at the most started circling back and forth on their bikes around me and the kids saying things like you !@#$ Indians, Go back to India etc etc. I was stupefied mainly for two reasons. The area we live in has a sizeable population of Indians, in the best of positions and fields. It is a an area where you have well-to-do people, professionals and educated at the least. The school itself has a high number of Indian students and there's no way I am the minority here. I felt that this was a game to needle me and get me to retort or react in some way. I didnt mainly because I had the children with me.

The next day though as I went to pick them up from camp, the same thing happened but this time I gave it back. Its an understatement to say they were shocked at my replying back, were taken aback and it took them a while to come up with something else. Within minutes though, I threatened to call the cops and between yelling whatever they could and me flipping the bird and whatever else, I called R who was anyway upset with what happened the night before and insisted on coming home from work. He insisted on us wanting to report to the school and filing a complaint with the cops.

The school - closed for Friday, it being sumer hols and all anyway, we called the cops. The cops listened me out and said there was nothing they could do bcos 'unfortunately' in this country, you can say what you want, you have the freedom of speech and it only becomes a reason to complain when I feel like there's a threat to my life. (Like 4 boys cycling back and forth around me and my 4 and 6 yr olds is not threatening enough) . People can say what they want, if they took up every complaint that people made about hating someone else or racist, demeaning things were said, there'd be time only for that. He apologised, felt bad for what had happened but we didnt have a case.

I understand. What I dont understand is, is it ok to spread a feeling of hatred and fear and label it as freedom of speech? Is it ok to let teenagers get away with this kind of behaviour and then be sorry later for having shoot-outs in schools, gyms and what have you? I'd understand them feeling insecure, or threatened, jealousy or whatever, I dont understand them voicing it and thinking its ok to get away with it. I dont understand why they can sit in a place as public and supposedly safe like a school playground and have no one hold you accountable.

I am too tired to actually write everything that went on in my head and by way of discussing this with other parents and family. We thrashed the whole thing back and forth and the only thing we could come up with is that in a situaiton like this, you forget youre an adult, you stand up for yourself and give it back good and proper. One parent even advised me to make sure I teach my children comebacks and retorts to make them stand up for themselves. I was feeling shocked, angry and ridiculous at the same time. Teach elementary school kids to reply back to racist remarks? If this goes on in good areas, whats it like in not so good places?

I'm aware that this is not the norm. In the 7 years that Ive been here, this has been my first run-in with an incident of this kind, that too with juveniles and not mature adults. Still it left an impression on me and I'm wary on one side and cherish the friends of other cultures that I have so much more on the other.

Peace out.

For you my future Daughter-in-law

One of the things I usually think about is how my kids will measure up as spouses or partners and friends. A big giggle goes up inside me when Reh talks about the kind of Dad or husband he thinks he will be. Right up there with I'll buy my kids ice-cream everyday without them having to ever ask me is being a surfing, hamming, tickling, will let my kids sit on the front seat of the car dad. I thought I'd help the future daughter-in-law along by doing my bit too. Something tells me this is going to be a series of posts :) :0 HAHAHAH!

1) The obvious - Girl Im going to make him LOVE to shop. Errr...if not love then at least tolerate it. Well. All you have to do is promise him food at the end of it all. 

2) I am going to teach him the difference between mauve, lilac, plum, fuschia, cerise, lavender, salmon, magenta, carmine, carnation and cherry blossom pink. Yes I am . So you can have a detailed soul-filling discussion about that dress you saw and whether its day number or a night dress or is it photogenic or does it go with your highlights. All of it without him looking pained or looking at his 'purpleberry' for the umpteenth time.

You might have to learn to juggle between his needs of working at the four jobs he loves though which right now are farmer, rockstar, zoo-keeper and businessman. You'll find a way to make it work I hope. 

Your car might be a limo because he wants 7 kids. Six boys and a girl. He's ready to put his dreams of a Lamborghini on the backburner for now.

3) I'm training him to love leftovers. You just have to learn to disguise them well though. Hopefully 'again??' is not something you'll have to hear at your dining table. Like I said though, the key is masterful disguise. Call it gourmet cooking, frugal living, zen minimalism, scrapbook cooking, cut paste cooking. 

4)I am also teaching him the fine art of answering the question "Do I look fat in this"? or Do I look fat period. Some of the answers he has down pat are 

a) Fat? Where?

b)Absolutely not, no way!

c)You look mummalicious. (Pls note - these answers are age-appropriate for now) and thats also my fav one. Hopefully he'll make the necessary substitutions as he grows - the premise was to get him to understand the idea.)

5)He's slowly but very surely learning to put-up with the cookery and home decor channels. He doesnt tolerate them well now but I'm hoping a little later on when he can really help me in the kitchen and I can down his salads or other creations enthusiastically, he will be more interested. 

6)He's usually spot-on with home decor qs, and I go by his instinct sometimes. Dont know what that sez for my home decor but I like his style so far. He's already into looking through Pottery Barn Teen catalogues while we wait in the car. Yea those are my zen moments.

Right now though, the teenagers who have the coolest rooms and gizmos are his picks but its a start. Something to build on. 

7)This was something he was born with - he always compliments you when you dress well and he really means it. He suggested I buy peep-toe wedges because "they looked good on Lisa". I am usually thrilled with the suggestions but follow it up with excuses.  He still hasnt learnt the difference between saree and dupatta and such. Recently for a party, he complimented his grandmother's saree by saying ''nice dupatta nana''.

His fav compliment is "you look byoodeephool nosh".

My Chiclet

How time's been flying. My chiclet had zilch hair on her head for eight months after her first 'balding' ceremony. Back then we didnt know that she'd been blessed with her nanima's straight hair which took ages to grow in thickness because of it's fineness. We used to go crazy with little clips, pins and anything sparkly, glittery and preferably with its own hanging on for dear life capablities. She hates having her hair tied, pulled, generally does nothing to it but let it hang like a curtain. Lately though after school started, I see her trying to do things to it herself, parting it this way and that, pinning it up this way and that and usually the efforts are commendable simply bcos its nice to see the whole face and not just an eye peeking out from under hair somewhere. Of course hair bands were the order of the day. (saved me)

When time flies I meant, it's a milestone I think when ur daughter starts to dress herself up to make herself look prettier, more presentable, adds her own touches. The relationship with the mirror. Especially since I'm a tomboy mom raising a tomboy daughter. Or so I thought.

she was telling me she thinks she should get bangs

Also capturing those pearlies. They should be wiggling anytime soon! sniff!

Nosh tales

Not all kids who want attention do it by getting in your face. I realised that much now with my daughter. She is demanding in her own way but not rude enough to get in your face and demand it. Thats why I see we've been going off track for a bit. And it didnt occur to me sooner.

The kid is gets antsy when there's nothing to do. Like all out irritated and Lost. Scattered and you can almost see it in a halo around her body. Scattered energy, frustration and grrrrrrs. They had Free Choice (as in do what you want like Free time) at school last week and the kid was one frustrated bundle by the end of it. Geez. Remember those days when a teacher was absent or we had 'Games' period and we lived for that half n hr? You didnt? Well I did and I came alive. 

It was just before school ended for the day and when I picked her up I could see she wanted to bite someone's head off. Little Nosh - you're growing into a very 'O C'MON! Dont waste my time woman'. Yes, the off-shoot of that would be that you would think you'r mom's life is a wasted exercise. Go with the flow being my mantra and all that. Of course you got it from your Dad - 'he who cant go to a mall unless there's something you need to buy from there'.

I tried to reason with her and all I could get was more Grrrrs and some dramatic rolling and thumping on the bed. 

I thought she might have been rejected or hurt by one of the kids, y'know those I wont be your friend or whatever games. No. That was'nt it. 

Did you fall? No. 

Did you lose something? No.

Did you forget something? No.

Did you eat? Yes.

What did you eat? A bagel. 

A bagel? Why? didnt they have anything halfway more decent than that? 

No. I just felt like having a bagel. 

Ok. 

So thats why you're so out of it. You're hungry. No.

Then what is it? 

They had Free Choice and I was so bored!

Alarms go off in my head. 

So anyway, we got around that and Nosh was happy again but I was left wondering whatever happened to 'yay! Free choice!'? Lets hope that was not all it was. But more than one incident like this has happened and I know for sure Nosh is not the kind who likes time without a purpose to it. And I thought she was a Piscean. There goes that theory. 

More than once I've heard the "But there's nothing to do mom! with a highly impatient and irritated strain to it. So nowadays if you hear "Let's throw a ball around" these parts more often than usual you know why. Or "Nosh you wanna do the dishes?" 

They're way past the stage where my doodles or their doodles left them fascinated. Cartoons dont do it anymore. Chores do believe it or not. Im pretty sure once Reh starts school this September full time its gonna be the same with him too. They dont want to come back and loll in front of the TV. They want to catch up and do things together. Never a dull moment around these parts these days. For me. ie.

Anyone got any tips for things to do while hanging out with your daughter? We have the get a slice of pizza and buy something she likes down pat. Throwing a ball too. Bit of the Wii too. Reading, crafts and all that happen as it is. Dun suggest baking anyone. To get all those kadhais and stuff out of the storage place my oven is and bake and then eat that cake by myself is no fun i tell you. It's asking for a guilt trip. 

Yes, other than that, I'm open to suggestions. While you're at it, throw me some ideas for the Spring Break starting tommorrow and lasting 10 days too. Cmon now. 

Goleman here I come

You know - I never thought it was going to be this hard. I never thought I was going to think yea my parents handled me the best they could. I always thought I was going to sit on my high-horse and say nope, they never understood me. But guess what. What goes around went and came back to bit me in the proverbial butt. I was gifted a child with my own temperament and to make it a little more interesting in case I get bored, with an extra X chromosome to boot.

So add to the tempestousness of living-in-the-moment, there is the aggression, the lack of accessories like language (boys are less detail oriented than girls as far as language goes I think - at least in my case) and oh boy - throw in the calm and angelic sister and I can't for the life of me understand how or where to begin to make Reh understand the world doesnt exist for him. Then there's the insult to injury. I cant keep up with all the cool things his Dad stands for. Boy things. The person in me wants to turn arround and harrumph. The mom in me obviously cant. Of course for all the nitty-gritties of life I'm indispensible but. Of course.
Try not to be jealous ok?

I remember what it was like for me as a kid. I had the best of intentions but strict parents. So there were all these things I wanted to do and oh my! with the immediacy of now - it has to be Now!! Lets sign up for Bharatanatyam now daddy, now - mom! tell dad while all the while they knew this was a phase, I was doing it bcos everyone else around me was doing it (No, but I really wish I had learnt, I do love the dance) and so on and so forth it went, everything had a do or die feel to it, if I didnt get the pencil box I wanted, my grades would be dismal, if I didnt go for that party I would end up gawaar and so out of the loop, if I didnt get that friend, life was hopeless. Why am I still alive?!! That was who I was.
Now I see the same thing in my son where his eyes and every pore in his body screams for gratification, instantly and I internally somersault between how do I make him understand and the frustration of the daily drama.

Case in point - We were walking down the block today, to go pick Nosh and a stray cat comes over to get petted and Reh went ballistic. Mom can we take it home, mom this pet was sent for me (I kid you not), mom I'm not coming, you go pick Nosh. I thought he was kidding and I hid a little further down to make him feel I was serious about leaving him there if he didnt buck up. But no, to my shock, he stayed with the cat till the cat decided Reh had nothing for her and she better take her flirty self somewhere else if she wanted lunch. Then and only then does he look up to search for me and makes a beeline for the bend in the road where he thought I'd disappeared off to. Of course I'm zapped.
Did I mention Reh knows no regular fears that toddlers normally do and we as parents use to our advantage? Bogeyman, police, darkness, being lost, none of that. So all those options are out for me. Getting him in line for me is a physical task. No but this post isnt about that.

Then as we waited at the school, a friend from his school who has a sibling in this school turns up. They meet like long-lost brothers in the park and while his mom looks at me pleasantly surprised (playdate option?!!) I groan inwardly knowing now it was going to be a battle of mythic proportions to get him out of the school park to to his sisters school when the bell rang. Luckily the other mom got her son out of there first but for those three minutes of us cajoling and threatening our sons to come on out, I felt already like I was gearing up for a showdown.
And then of course I see the hurt in his eyes about the loss of a good time he was anticipating. The crestfallen face and furrowed brows. I understand, I feel bad and I remember. How as a child we felt disappointment with our entire beings.

The fear I have is that like me he will give up. I know its never going to happen in so many odd years and I hope and pray none of those circumstances in my life repeat themselves in his for him to get that tired but the fear laughs menacingly at me.

This post was about me knowing whats in his mind because I was there and feeling perfectly helpless about jumping the fence. I was tired of listening to you cant do this and you cant do that. I was also tired of listening to 'because I say so'. From my own parents. That much I try to give him. Explanations - but where I was willing to understand whether I wanted to or not, he has his eyes on the goal. Nothing will stop him. He's a sweet, protective, kid but if he wants/needs to do something, its a battle. This time it's a pet. This morning it was a Nintendo. Last night it was to sleep with him and not his sis. Everything has this baby aggression tied to it that I do not want building up or staying undealt with, in him. I tried explaining allergies, lets wait till you're older, nintendos -you need to know how to read, I'll lay down with you till you fall asleep, but no all I can see is the breathless anticipation and excitedness and remember my own enthusiasm once upon a time. And I'm torn.

Can you believe that halfway through the night he wakes up (every night) and comes stomping/hurt and running to jump into my bed grumbling about why I left him there? and promptly falls asleep once he's in between me and R. He still remembers why he cried every morning while going to school last year. I didnt know but now he tells me it was because I used to send him off on a bus and not pick or drop him like I used to earlier. He said it in a resigned understanding oh well way. You could have knocked me out with a feather. Maybe he used to say it then, I was in a hurry to let it register but I'm surprised he still remembers. And I dont want him to!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Oh and thats something he got from me too grrrrrr...)

What he needs is a P.G. Wodehouse kinda mom. Oh and y'know - oh cut the crap already kinda.
Whump! That was my head flopping face-down on the keyboard.

One more piece that fit the puzzle

I read this article in the July Issue of Real Simple magazine. (that's another weird thing about me - I love reading old issues more than the current ones). It fixed some old hurt, filled some void, brought me back on track from some detour I had taken sometime while growing up.
I wish I could just add it as a link but cant because I cant locate it anywhere on the online version of the magazine. I loved it so much though that I'm going to type it all out here. Maybe you guys might like it too. Lemme know if you do. And then next hopefully the library will have her books...

It's called 'unforgettable, that's what you are' and its by Erica Wagner.
Here goes:


THE SUMMER I WAS SEVEN, my parents and I drove from our New York City home to the small town of Quechee, Vermont, to visit friends. Mush of that trip has left me with indelible memories. I remember the sticky red vinyl seats in my Dad's Volkswagen Beetle; the cool, green swimming pond in our friends backyard; and their milk-shake machine - a real one, a Hamilton Beach. It was idyllic, that house and the land and the ancient trees. What I remember most, however? One particular tuna-fish sandwich, which evolved in my memory into an icon and embodiment of childhood bliss.

I encountered the world's best tuna-fish sandwich by accident. My parents had taken me off to explore the countryside, and after a morning of adventuring (visiting a glass-blowing factory, skipping stones on a creek), we needed lunch. We looked for a place to stop but found nothing. I grew hungry and then hungrier. Hours passed, or so it seemed. My parents, frustrated, burst into giddy laughter as time wore on and we still could find nowhere to stop and eat. And then, around the bend in the road,my dad spotted a white clapboard building with a neat sign hanging from the eaves, proclaiming it to be a diner. I did'nt think so-diners are streamlined and silver, not quaint little houses but never mind. We parked and went in, where were welcomed by a middle-aged lady with a lilting accent. She and her husband (the owners) were Swedish and to this day we refer to them as Mr. and Mrs. Swedish.

They sat us down and I ordered a tuna-fish sandwich. I liked tuna then. I like it now, though these days I might eat it seared or raw out of a pretty Italian jar with extra-virgin olive oil. But back then when I was a kid, the tuna sandwich was my default. And that day I needed something fast and reliable, something that wouldnt disappoint.

Talk about an understatement. The sandwich was the most delicious thing I've ever eaten: perfection on white toast, bound with mayonnaise.. I remember the smiling Swedishes refilling my parents' coffee cups and the sunlight through their yellow curtains. (Maybe even then I had an inkling that the sandwich alone was'nt the whole story, that the snack was somehow a signifier of transcendence.) How much mayo in the mix? How much celery? Was the tuna from a can packed with oil or water? I have no idea.

But I do know this: For the past 30 years, I've searched for a comparable sandwich. The search is often subconscious; I'll buy a tuna-fish sandwich without thinking much about it and eat it while reading the newspaper at my desk, and halfway through, the miraculous sandwich of my childhood springs to mind, and the invariably disappointing one I'm eating turns to dust in my mouth. Then suddenly (and predictably) I'll crave that sandwich.

Now and then, Ive actually looked for it. I live in England, and over here they put sweet corn in tuna salad. (My son, born and raised in England, thinks there's nothing wrong with sweet corn in tuna, but I love him anyway.) Since no tuna salad made with sweet corn can be considered in the Miracle Tuna Stakes, my searches for a restaurant that will replicate the Swedishes' achievement have been mostly confined to periodic Stateside trips. (Despite the nationality of the owners, I've never searched in Scandinavia. That sandwich was the very definition of All-American.) When I'm Stateside I'm indefatigable. I'm not looking for some fancy bistro. That place in Vermont was the opposite of fancy. In fact, I might find myself, one day peering through the doorway of a hole in the wall with a neon sign in the window flashing, COLD BEER, and think, Hey this might be it!

It never is - even if I wait until I'm as starving as I was that long-lost day. The lettuce is limp; the bread, stale. The tuna is too salty or too gummy-tuna that would be happier still in it's can. Or, at one of those New York downtown joints that pretend to be a diner but never really are (macchiato in a diner? I think not), the tuna might be tricked up, laced with paprika, sprinkled with sesame seeds, served on a brioche when I'd hoped for the stalwart comfort of plain white toast. Even on the rare occasion that sandwich is fine, it's just that-fine.

At this point, I usually turn back to my own kitchen, thinking Surely I can do better myself. I'm a reasonably confident cook, after all, and just how hard can a tuna sandwich be? Plenty hard it turns out, if you are after perfection, chasing a dream.

Sometimes I abandon the search completely, loading my own tuna salads with capers, olives, thinly sliced roasted red peppers, homemade mayo laced with lime, scatterings of fresh coriander leaves. But then I remember what I'm supposed to be doing, and I'm seduced again into trying to replicate the mythic lunch of my youth.

I've decided that both proportion and texture are critical. So to start, I choose tuna packed in oil-none of this slenderizing water nonsense, which leads to tuna that is dryish and tastes like nothing. For Mayo I stick to Hellman's and I think celery is a must-add, though not too much and you do have to destring the pesky stuff. A little salt, a little pepper and maybe a wee squeeze of lemon.

I've come close with this version, but never close enough. Once frustrated, I even threw everything in the food processor, thinking that a few judicious pulses would do the trick. The result was gloop. I've mashed with a fork, I've crumbled with my fingers, I've diced celery so fine you could pass it through a sieve. I've cut the mayo with a spoonful of sour cream. (neat idea no?) and yet.....No matter what I do, the perfect tuna sandwich continues to elude me. The other day I actually considered giving up, though not out of a sense of defeat. I was making a tuna sandwich for my son, standing at the counter pouring, yes, sweet corn kernels into a bowl. I was hungry, but I was'nt sure what for. I thought of my father who died last year. I thought, once again, of the tuna-salad sandwich I ate that day in Vermont, and then of the Volkswagen Beetle, and my parents laughing up front and me rattling around in the back, not wearing a seat belt because no one did it back then. I remember the trees blurred and bending as my Dad took the curves, and the diner appearing like an oasis, and the hollowness in my belly as I waited, at seven years old for my lunch. That day, the place, the drive, my love for my parents, and the feeling, perhaps for the first time in my life, of absolute hunger followed by absolute satiety.

Hunger, of course, never really goes away. The hunger for tuna fish, the hunger for love. And especially a hunger for the perfect moment you wish you could resurrect as easily as you can make a sandwich. But maybe savoring a memory does'nt have to mean reconstructing it. Maybe, in fact, that constant attempt at reconstruction keeps you from relishing what's happening now--now , and next week and next year. So that day, standing in my kitchen, I resolved: I would continue to revel in my most delicious of memories but try to be hungry for, and satisfied by, my life-and even my lunch today-today.

You listening?

Confession: I didnt fast this Ramzan. For the first time in my whole life. I went through this month which is almost coming to an end having survived just one fast. You have to know me to understand the meaning behind this. I was the one who never left one day of fasting despite international travel, pregnancies, being away from home, no hope of good food (hostel years) et al. This year, I just didnt have the strength or the inclination. I had the best intentions before the month started. When it did though, I just felt a multitude of feelings that overwhelmed me AND made me sit up straight. I was mix of rebellion and just tired. Plain tired.
Tired physically yea, but thats not it. I was tired of thinking of everything I used to be doing in religion as a way of showing my love and faithfulness for God. Prove it to me, prove it to me....that bit I was tired of. Maybe it's not the norm for it to be thought of that way but in my head, thats how I've been letting religion run my life.
Before anyone mistakes me, I am not a fanatic, I love my religion, havent given up on it or anything, my faith runs stronger today than ever before. I'm not a fundu either.
In this country far away from home, I grew used to having RBC Radio on all the time, not just when I want to listen to songs. It was my only link to listening to Hindi, brought up memories, made me happy, sad, excited, angry, whatever in only a way that something you grew up with can. Music does that right? So I have it on all through the night too. God knows I've had only the radio for company through rocking babies to sleep a hundred times through the night, through RSV and puking and sickness and health. Thanks to that, I get up in the morning and am greeted by bhajans. Initially I used to switch it off, like a scared reaction, like I might listen to something I might end up liking. Slowly through rushed mornings it was'nt switched off and some of them I liked listening to, grew accustomed to hearing. I also knew it reminded me of my own faith bcos all said and done, it's a feeling. To acknowledge the Creator and give thanks, ask for help.

Likewise, I know I wouldnt be wrong in saying Islam has a way of running religion based on fear. I know it could be the interpretations of generations that worked but as soon as I was old enough to think, I realised it didnt work for me. I obeyed and I felt a blind love but the minute I discovered the Christian way of looking at things, I adopted the attitude. I brought that attitude into my own faith and since then my life is just one big conversation with Allah. I have never felt better or more mired or convinced of my own faith.
All this to explain Iam not a fundu.
So why didnt I fast? Like I said, I was tired of proving myself, my love or my leanings. I know those are not the requirements or reasons for fasting. Thats just why I took a break this year. After my fathers death and a couple more hard knocks, I am way too tired to take on any more hardship and definitely not hunger lol!
I know now what a man must feel like to keep having to bring flowers or dig out luscious bits of poetry or innovative ways of romancing to show his feelings or keep the love alive. I mean surely it has its place and advantages but sometimes it should be enough to believe that he does love you. And I do love my Lord. I just hope and pray he forgives my weakness as of this year and my refusal to obey this one time. Or maybe there'll be more. I dont know. I just hope my entry into heaven is not going to be barred bcos I couldnt pass up a few meals. You know what I've been upto all my life God...so cut me some slack ok? ;)

Noshkoshbgosh updates!

So we started school today. I say 'we' because anyone knows it's a momentous journey and exciting a trip of a lifetime for the whole family. We've been anticipating and looking forward to this day forever, ever since tales of best friends and being able to read books for yourself and math being fun were fed to hungry minds.

Yesterday we went, Reh, Nosh and me to drop over a few of the forms we were supposed to submit before D-day. Luckily we bumped into Nosh's teacher who happened to be coming out of a meeting. She knew we were kindergartners probably from the delirious looks on our faces. I mean we were in the haloed corridors of the school we moved to this neighbourhood for, the school we pass everyday on our way to anywhere, always wondering whats going on inside there. She asked Nosh who she was and immediately completed her name by remembering and saying the last name herself. I was mighty impressed. I mean for her to take that effort after all these years of teaching (she has 10 kids of her own!!) and asked if we would like to see the class. We couldn't believe our ears! wow!! Would we?? Lead the way lady!

Nosh was bubbling over with happiness and when we entered the room it was like a private introduction and it was great to walk around the whole room, Nosh and Reh both touched everything they could, Nosh couldnt believe the amount of things she had at her disposal to cram into her day. If she was a teeny bit apprehensive before, it was all a thing of the past now with the love she felt for her teacher and her class. We got our instructions and left with hugs and byes.

Today, we went there, Nosh located her seat and when I was leaving, there were still more kids to come, hardly four or so had made it in by then. (And I was worried about being late!) Nosh couldnt wait to start, I could see she was raring to go and kept saying - Mom I love my school, mom I'm so happy to go! Music to my ears!!
Letter to Nosh
Dear Nosh,

I know you always laugh at your corny, soppy mom but hey, we're bound to each other for life so get used to it! Everytime you reach a milestone, I dissolve into tears and now I've gotten used to you rolling your eyes at me. And I dont have to pretend something got into my eyes anymore.

I am SO thrilled you've finally started school. I know you've been waiting for this day forever and now here we are. Doubly happy that you love your class, your teacher and your life! as you put it. I know you're going to have so much fun that we're never going to run out of things to talk anymore. I loved my school days so believe me when I tell you, I know what we're in for and I'm going to make sure I do my best to make this time of your life the best it can be.
I pray you excel at everything you want to and more. I hope you learn about friendships and your strengths and weaknesses and how to capitalise and minimise on them respectively. I hope your teachers take over where I leave off and you have the best relationships with them. I hope you can learn boys can make great friends and you have the best of both boys and girls as friends. I hope you come back everyday with interesting stories for me, dad and reh. I hope you'll have enough stories for Sha and Shabu didi too. I miss you and seeing your little form in bed and your coming to check on what I'm doing. I miss seeing you going about doing your thing. I know Reh misses you too. Next year when he joins you, I know you'll be the know-it-all sis!
I think we should thank your Dad for having worked so hard to make sure we made it to this neighbourhood and the best school.

I can't imagine where the time went. Five years went by in a blink. I remember bringing you back from the hospital the first time, and imagining happily reading you little fuzzy board books. Lying next to each other every afternoon and reading for all we were worth. I remember scheduling your pre-school years such that you went on alternate days and were home with me at least four days out of the seven days in a week. Despite your dad trying everything to to get me to get you to go everyday. And now here you are reading by yourself and laying your clothes out by yourself, and knowing exactly what you want for snacks and how to pack them! Now we're going to do this everyday! No more stealing you for a few days for myself. I don't know whether I should be happy or sad!
I hope the little we see of each other now will mean quality time and more fun, less get-off-my-back!
I love you sunnima, Happy 3rd September 2008!


A good bye and all the best hug from Reh


Found my name tag ma!


20 odd years of this - here we go!

walking to school this morning

dun miss reh trying to sneak off to the playground

happy smiles - off we go!

The making of a mom

oh forget it. the making of a mum my foot. either the ingredients are just not right or the measurements are all wrong. whats going on you ask me. oh nothing much i'll say. i feel like am vegetating, like moss over a pond. just floating, thas it.
it's getting to me. gets me almost always but it's getting to me for the past coupla days and im not sure my whining is going to help. i need to get out there and sweat some, i realise i am a physical person and i miss gymming. am antsy and inert if you can make sense of that.
cleaning helps - i have never been so in love with dishwashing liquid or windex before. what is it? instant gratification? see a mess, spray, wipe, clean?
my sis recently told me not diluting dishwashing liquid is the way to go. it made dishwashing fun. i love the intensity of the fragrance, the way a whole sinkful can be washed with just enough dips into the liquid that you can count on one hand, the foam that cant get enough of itself.
yea, im losing it.
or maybe i'm finally getting the hang of this housewifely thing. its a nice feeling to be happy in your spot. not wondering whether you should be doing something else. who am i kidding....those feelings are always around. waiting to get me the minute i feel ive screwed up with the kids or whatever.
i dont like feeling like ive let them down and still my naturally brooding, 'thinking too much' state doesnt leave much room for lets roll in the grass moments. i think im not taking enough. i'd do it if i knew what to take. is that possible? you dont know what to take but you're very good at knowing what to give? sounds so stupidly soppy, i feel nauseous. but i know its not working for me. i feel i must be doing something on my own, only that doesnt feel right either. its not like i can drop the kids somewhere and go gallivanting. i dont want to either. im not looking to get away from them. i just want to do something - something that doesnt mean being a wife or mom. or did i just veto that the second i got married and had kids? or maybe i'm not thinking? which is probably right. I almost felt a bulb go on.
on a completely different note - i'd love to walk in for once and be the one asking "Whats for dinner?"
i dont want to lose myself, i dont i dont i dont.....

This is how we do it

If I'd only figured it out earlier....it would have saved me a lot of confusion and grief. I just realised that boys and girls have different ways to deal with their frustrations or just think things through too. At least my boy and girl anyway. And I'm sure it's the same for many more.
I see that Reh comes around more easily if there's a physical activity involved in letting him find his way around in his thinking or understanding something. If I'd had him before Nosh, maybe I would have figured it out earlier too. As it stands now, I used to try to make him understand things the way I used to with Nosh. Which is talk or read a similiar - situation'ed' story or just cuddle. With Reh I see it has to be that he has to be on his feet, doing something or just being physical to avoid meltdowns or just frustration. If I find something for us to do, or take his cue and follow him it's seconds before he falls back on track again and feels better about whatever it was that was bothering him. The simplest is to let him run free. Ride his scooter or jeep and he's a much more pleasant and agreeable person.
At the same time, if I do what I do with Nosh which is quiet time - even as far as physical activity is concerned she loves to be pushed on a swing or play games that dont require so much exertion that you end up hurting yourself, he's still a bundle of energy waiting to let it rip.
The understanding of that has let me get my sleep back. I hate having irritated, frustrated kids on my hands and the moment I understood what he needs and this oh so simple way of handling him, it's been peaceful. That's not to say that he doesn't like to be cuddled or doesn't love his share of reading and quiet time talking over pushing his cars and back forth. He loves it, I love the way his little legs run to get books when it's time to read. I love the way he smiles shyly when I join him in his games. But for him to retain his sanity, he needs to let it drain from his body -whatever's frustrating him.
Even though he's not shy, for a few months now, he feels a little wary about entering his grandma's house where everyone greets him with smiley loud "heys!" or "Reh!" Immediately his index finger goes in his mouth and he dashes to the kid's room for cover. Lately though he needs to play outside a bit before he makes his way in. Such a bundle of contradictions.

Nosh on the other hand though - I've started letting her watch those Disney shows like Hannah Montana (I know I know!!) and Wizards...Place etc. The kid's theatrical talents have been awakened. She dances more confidently, she can imitate accents and generally I guess a part of her has come alive. Just lost her for a bit though when she went around talking like the said Hannah. **shudder** That was painful to watch. Again - I guess everything has its phase and she's back.
Add to that the camp she's in this time has all her favourite activities -theatre, arts n crafts and Gymnastics. The kid loves to use her body in a graceful manner (you wont get her to huddle or scrape knees on a regular basis) and so this particular camp has her excited and raring to go. There's a recital at the end of the camp and I'm thrilled to be going to see it! They make the props, costumes and everything related to the show as part of their arts and crafts, they practice for the show and the gym where they cartwheel and somersault and let loose on the trampoline is her dream come true. No roasting in the sun throwing balls and swinging bats for her. Although I hope she changes her mind about that - I'd love for her to be on a sports team. Other than gymnastics too!

Parenting means learning to work as a team....

It helps to think of your husband as anyone but your husband when certain issues arise in your marriage. I find I'm infinitely patient and not snarling when I think of him as a friend in our gang of friends or the neighbour next door when I'm trying to explain something that sounds very basic to me but is obviously not to him as far as rearing the kids goes.

Otherwise I just think - how come he doesnt get that??? How? WHY?? Surely I dont need to explain why nosh needs to be handled like this and why reh did what he did?

But the moment I imagine he's a stranger and not the other person sitting in my head who should be reading my brain, it gets more civil around here. We actually manage to achieve a memorandum of understanding in how to handle our kids. As opposed to rolling eyes and saying dubious things on the lines of 'I'll just do it myself' or 'you just screwed up three days of my work in making Reh a little bit like me and not so much like you'. Y'know what I mean. Lol.

Infinitely exciting

Hey Mom! listen to this!


You tell her . No! You tell her!


So ermm...yada, blabbidy blada...

Errrr....I dont. think. she got it.

I regularly hear nosh n reh giggling or chuckling together or by themselves downstairs. Initially I used to go downstairs to see what they were upto and used to be surprised to see they were laughing at some joke on TV. Must be some silly joke on their kiddie programmes I used to think.

Now though, it's exciting to me to see them laughing at jokes and punchlines. For me its just the same as them learning to walk or talk....their sense of humour is a delight to experience! Funny thing is how different even their sense of humour is from each other. Reh's is very slapstick, funny noises, funny moves kind of stuff that sends him roaring. Nosh - its witty one-liners and irritating one-ups. Having the last say kind of thing.

Whatver it is though, it cracks me up - watching them following a program and laughing where they should and sometimes where I'm surprised they did! They got that? I wonder...they really understood the joke behind that? wow. It's like seeing your kids come of age to a certain extent...holding a conversation, keeping it going, adding jokes and inventing banter on car-rides....it's really delightful to me. Long were those days when you looked in the rearview mirror and made inhuman noises to get a reaction from the kids in the backseat who looked equally surprised at this mime. Now, it's high energy conversations and of course - fighting for who spots the most Mercs (hey!! why are you looking at the ones outside MY window?) who spots Nandeenie's (Nandini) (say nan like a gora would say nan as in tandoori naan) house first even though poor Nandini probably gets a spate of horrible hiccups everyday since we're always passing by her house, who gets to pick which song to play etc and then there are those days when conversation flows smoothly. CONVERSATION! I will never get used to it or become less grateful for it.

I used to Hate those days - the first 15-16 months before the kids start talking. My God were they long. I'm not a talker so its nice when they babble and I can listen or referee. Bliss!

So simple and elementary but..

You know there are those times when you're still reeling and trying to make sense of your relationship with your mother? Things she said, she did, she didnt do, she didnt say that you feel you could have been happier without/not knowing/benefited/learnt from?

Honestly those are things that are always on my mind. I'm always stuck with the 'why's? and why did this have to happen this way, wish I could have handled it better, wish i knew then what I know now plane. Like a running commentary in the back of my head, especially now that I am a mom and I hear her words coming out of my mouth, when I find myself running a few things in my life the way she did, it never fails to amaze me that your mother is always on your mind. Not your Dad, not your anyone else as much as this person is. Well yea Dad too but 'd put that at a 90% and 60% deal.

So the next thing is that you wonder if she's so much on your mind, what will my kids be thinking when they're far away from me? Does everything I say and everything I do just stamp itself on their psyche like mine is? I mean we dont talk about our moms all through school and college? They're there, the odd tiffs and good times are talked about with your closest friends but now as a mom, that relationship just charges itself to the front of my foremost thoughts.
The object of this post was - I'm always wondering whether my children will forgive me for the silly mistakes I make. And these are stupid things mind you (not for me though)- ignoring them while I'm on the phone, promises not kept like tonight I will read that book or tommorow I will take you to the park and sometimes they dont happen. I hate those times, I feel like a failure then. Those times when you're brusque or rude and just not there. Emotionally.

Yesterday I noticed Nosh had set her bedside table in a really pretty manner, there was a placemat (which she herself had picked and shopped for in India), she had managed to find a matching envelope holder that I had chucked away in the same colours as the placemat but it had flowers on it. She put a beady, hanging trinkets kind of hair elastic band around a pen holder and her shoebox of sleeping baby dolls on top of the placemat. Apparently she had been literally dangling from my hand to show me the arrangement while I was on a really important phonecall so I locked myself in the bathroom instead. I saw it the next day as I was dressing her up for school and I'm not one of those 'your scribbles look great, lets have a party kind of moms', I'll give it the rating it deserves acc to age. So this was such a nice arrangement that I couldnt help but marvel at her creativity, the fact that a five year old was decorating her bedside table and how nicely at that. So it obviously showed on my face and in my words and she was pleased. Then she mentioned how it had been done yesterday and she had been trying to show me. Aarghghgh.

The first thing that went through my mind was that I had no recollection whatsoever. Secondly that I remember as kids how so in the moment we are and enjoying what we do and how thrilled we are to have our parents see and appreciate what we did and this kid just happily postponed her 'I'll get my mom to see it and tell me what she thinks of it later' so maturely. If I was in her place, I would have been mighty miffed and probably would have taken it all apart out of sheer aaaa who cares attitude.
So I apologised so sure that no, she was going to make me feel bad, really bad about this, I dont even deserve to be forgiven (keep in mind that in my head its a series of such situations and not a one-time thing) but she did. She's tall enough now that when she's standing on the bed my head would be on her chest. So I hugged her and said I was sorry and she very matter of factly said its ok mamma and in a lets move on way, asked me "so - you really like it?"
It was over for her.
Set me thinking - why am I holding on to all these grudges and that too silly things, one point in a moment of time that might have had a hundred things going on for my mom or dad and here I am till today, carrying the memory or the pain and wondering why did it have to happen this way. My five year old is more mature than Iam.

I still am, who Iam despite the good times and the bad and I didnt turn out too bad. So congrats mom and dad, I think you did a great job (if I may say so myself) in raising the four of us, personally feel you got better with each kid lol.

About time I put those things that made me angry/sad/host of other feelings on that level aside. High time. Thanks Nosh.

Spring break - part 1

Cool, green, burst of colours and waking up from hibernation. Thats what the past few weeks have been about. Nosh n Reh were home and I just love that. No rushed mornings - except where I had to rush them to the gym - my god that was excruciating) and just enjoying the weather.

The pink cherry blossom tree outside our home...it actually threw pink light on the walls.


brother and sister talk, laugh, argue and complain

daydream, play, imagine and be

freeze framed my hunny

i love the afternoon/asr time light in our home

pink bounty

squirrel pranayamas early morning with this lovely tiny white flowering tree outside which is one of the first ones to bloom every spring.

Toy Story

Wow. I just had a first-hand experience of how easy it is to explain a situation, a feeling to my kids with the help of toys. I mean yes, there were always puppets, other toys and the odd sock but yesterday, I went to do some toy-shopping and bought Nosh a toy crib and changing table set. She'd been asking me for one for a while and I'm the kind who prefers that she uses things around the house to make cribs for the dolls and just basically imagine and re-use things to suit her fancy. So I watched her diligently place her dolls in shoe boxes lined with tissues and make bottles and powder tins out of lego blocks. I've heard bemusedly many conversations she's had with her 'kids' and been an audience to many imaginative goings-on.
So when I gave her the toys to play with and she brought her brother into the picture (Reh mama? lol!) there was a lot of excitement and an incident where Reh complained that the baby scratched him. Nosh immediately reprimanded her baby and I heard a lot of "bad girl" "no"! and all that. I just stepped in with the referee role lol saying she's a baby and she doesnt know what she's doing and all that. Reh felt very bad and started kissing the doll saying its ok its ok etc etc. Nosh covered the baby in a giant hug and all was well. I'd tried explaining that so many times with real people before, littler cousins but it didnt go down as easily as this did and it just showed me a new and maybe easier way of making them understand things. All it took was for them to be proactive in choosing someone to be theirs and forming a relationship with them. The ease with which it went down and was understood was an eye-opener to me, a relief. Exciting too because I see endless possibilities in explaining lots of things to them, maybe learning more. Oh I can't wait to play.
I used to hate that game - 'mummy mummy', or 'house', whatever you call it as a kid. Now it seems extremely helpful!



Nosh with her brother's baby Sophie (hyuk hyuk!)


She was saying it's time to cut her nails....


Proud mom/aunt?

All's well when the baby's so happily asleep!

where's my core?

I've been going for Bikram Yoga for the past week. I must have attended about four 90 minute sessions so far. It's been great.
The thing that's been niggling at me since I started going is how not-easy it is anymore to just focus in the moment. I used to think shavasana meant I could daydream and just let my mind wander. This yoga teacher says you need to focus on your intent, realign those and just concentrate on why and wherefores of the reason behind you doing yoga today and what it's doing to your body, what you need from it to do to your body etc etc.
I also was amazed by how restless I was. My body was tired and welcoming the few seconds of breaks between the asanas but I just could not chill for want of a better word. Lol bcos Bikram yoga is done in a heated room to make you sweat. So you get what I mean. Any second that I got my mind was ticking off things to do, things I did, even something as silly as will the kids enjoy the lunch I packed today for them. The thought comes in unbidden and some other part of my brain is telling me incredulously- 'are you serious'? You're actually concerned about things you know for sure you needn't be?' It was like becoming a mother or just being at this juncture in my life didnt affford me the luxury of aimless floating. I wondered - why? and is that true for all moms?
I mean I know we worry but when you know you're not needed, the kids are in school, the husband's at work, the house is locked, yes you checked and double checked the burners were off and the iron box was off and all the windows were shut then what was that niggling sense of something must have bypassed my notice and am I gonna find the the police, ambulance, firefighters all surrounding my house? Maybe someone from the school called and I cant use my phone while class is in session and its an emergency? What just happened here?
I don't like it. Does it come with being a mother package and does that mean I'm never going to be able to be carefree again? eeks! no no no!
The funny thing is - when I'm at the gym, it doesnt bother me. It's only those quiet moments when nothing and no one else needs my attention. It really surprises me. I might have been like this for a while but being forced to be quiet and sit still at someone else's prompting caused me to notice it.

Noshi-ma.

My sister was wondering why there are these odes to Reh on the blog and hardly anything on Nosh. Thing is when I started the blog, I was just starting to tune in to Reh in a different way. He was talking nineteen to the dozen and it was much easier to understand and enjoy him. By then, Nosh was in her element, a full-fledged, little person who I knew very well. The way Reh was spouting different things every other day for us to see and understand him, Nosh had been through that earlier and she was very interesting too, except, I hadn't been blogging then. Wish I had though, never knew anything about it. I have lots of scraps of papers and diaries scribbled with things she said and did though.
To describe her now...let's see.

One thing that I'm always appreciating her for is that she's such a sport. She's ready for anything (except waking up early morning) no matter what it is at what time of the day/night and she just jumps right in with you to do whatever you suggest. She's always been great with her brother and despite him taking away a lot of time due to her when he came along, she just loved having him around. Of course there are those days when she wishes no one else was around but her but they are very rare. It's reached a stage now where if one is sleeping, the other is restless and rudderless lol.

The flip side of that which I regret is that she's SO mature for her age sometimes that you forget she's a baby too or that if she regresses into being one, she has every right to it and all it will take is a little babying for her to feel loved and attended to before she's back to being Miss Nosh. I still remember the times she used to come looking for me when I shut the door to Reh's room to put him to sleep. Always used to make sure she was with her Dad though, never alone outside. She learnt to open the door without making any noise and she'd look quietly questioningly at when he'd finally nod off and then I'd be with her. When we finally jumped into bed together me and her, she'd be one thrilled kid.

She cant get enough of being read to. I could go through all her books and be croaking hoarse but she'd love to sit and listen to more. She still loves to go to sleep holding/snuggling next to me.

She's very good with her body, she can dance like a free spirit. She's been asking me to put her in one of those Little Gym kind of classes where they teach you to somersault and jump through hoops and God knows what else. There's one around the corner and I just might do that this summer vacation. She loves doing puzzles and is quite good at spatial skills. I never sat her down to it, its something she showed me herself and I'm thrilled at her ability. Art, cooking, drama, she loves these things.

She loves to go shopping and has a really good eye for picking out clothes and things for the house. A month ago, we went to a store and I saw this jacket which looked really nice, except it had all these belts and buckles. I guess it was inspired by the military look or whatever. I tried it on, it fit, the price was OK for one of those days you need to throw something on and rush. So sure and full of confidence, I tried it on and turned around with a flourish to ask Nosh what she thought. "You look like a man" she said very matter-of-factly and tutted, thth ththed her very practical, 'but of course' line at me. I almost fell to the floor laughing. Both at her comment and her bang-on lifestyle editor style. Thats how much fun she is to take shopping.

Putting her clothes together too. I have a very basic, tried and tested sense of style. I'll pull out more or less the same combos of t-shirts that go with pants or skirts or whatever and put them on her. She, with the same wardrobe will manage to pull out something that adds new life to the same outfit after 3 years. Some new combination of colours, this jacket with that skirt, that tshirt-with this pant and you have to stand back and admire. I mostly am delighted.

I wasnt too crazy about sending her to bday parties simply bcos I'm not familiar with the parents and in our day you dropped the kids and picked them later. Here I saw how the moms hang around for the party too. Anyway, she went for her first one 2 weeks ago and was very thrilled to win a prize and was busy doing the cha cha with the rented-for-2-hours Snow White, when I went back to pick her up. I couldnt believe it! My girl? You had to revive me after I considerably wilted, backed into a corner and fainted after being asked to dance at bday parties when I was a kid. Here was my own flesh and blood, shaking everything she had and then some.

Before she left, the previous day , she was busy putting her outfit together, she found the perfect clutch (one which I gave her to add to her pretend/dress-up toys) and actually asked me for a cell-phone. Mine. Huh? I asked her why? She said in case she wanted to come back from the party, she wasnt feeling good or too nervous, she could call and ask me to pick her up. I told her she doesnt even know how to dial. (I was wondering where we were going with this) She said she had our number on a piece of paper and in her clutch. Then I remembered how she asked me to write down our number on a piece of paper to practice calling home, the day before. She said she had the paper and she would just ask the bday girl's mom to call me.

We settled the matter with me telling her, if she wanted to call me, the bday girl's mom had my number anyway and she could just ask her and she would immediately call me. She was'nt very happy with the arrangement but she realised there was no other way around it. So thats my super-planned, ahead-thinking daughter for you.
Shaboo I know you're loving this.
There's more much more to my little girl and I'll keep it coming. :)

My 2 nickels

All that discussion after MM's angst over her sons admission had me wondering. Isn't it really about -

One - that however privileged one is, it's never a protection blanket from the vagaries of life. Maybe they're not everyday vagaries and problems that the less privileged go through but nevertheless, they will temper our kids, one way or the other. As a human, you'll never be free of the tensions of fights with friends/siblings, family, wanting something and not getting it (there'll always be something you want and at some point, something you know you cant get - whether it's a girl or the latest gizmo) sickness, losing loved ones, broken dreams, money comes and goes, people come and go, wanting to prove yourself etc etc. Those things no matter how rich or not one is, will point us in the direction of looking for whats important. Searching for the answers to the eternal question of - Why am I here and What is going on? or Whats important to me? I dont think rich people are exempt from that.

Secondly - didnt our parents come from a just became independent India generation where everything was an adventure, life was one new path to be forged, their youth was more or less during the iconic 70s where a hundred new lifestyles and theories of living it were tried and tested? They just wanted for us to have the freedom of financial security, the confidence of being good at what you do, the maximum use of your potential and values that took you through your life with respect. So if they pushed us to get that first rank or focus more on the chemistry text than the stamp collection or writing poetry, they were just imprinting on us that it's a nutty world out there and if you're financially sound, or at least capable of it, you'll have things a tad/really easy for you. That's all! That kind of security has its limitations I think, its not a cocoon that'll keep you safe from every knock of life but it's a useful one!
That was the intention of most well-intentioned parents I think, I'm not talking about the ones who used their kids as their trophies signifying their superiority.
Of course now because we're not fighting to survive or keep our heads above water, things have changed. Media, exposure to lifestyles all over the world and a larger, richer upper-middle class has made it easier to accept different forms of making a living and hobbies as acceptable and even worth admiring. You know what I'm talking about.

However rich you are, however privileged you are, I think as a parent, if we really want to, we can raise level-headed, compassionate kids or at least try to if IF we really want it. If we're busy trying to show the world my kid looks just as good as yours in Levi's and we own a vacation home too just because everybody else owns one, make MBA's out of our kids bcos thats what everyone else is studying too, matching every step with every other 'privileged' parent without drawing the line somewhere, without being clear about our own priorities as a family then yea, maybe the lesson will be lost.

Thirdly, I'm hoping it just boils down to what one can do to 'help' shape that little person. You can work with what you've got, you cant create and entire being to your liking! You cant create a perfect world outside your home, you can only listen to your child and expose them to more than what their privileged world lets them see otherwise. Even if we as parents dont, I believe life has its way of doing that. One way or the other. We could lead by example and we can both learn from our mistakes...

There's always going to be someone better off and someone worse off than you. No matter how rich you are or privileged your parents are, you're never immune to heartbreak, sadness, loss and fear. No one has lived a life of sheer bliss that didnt come to end at some point or have some breaks in the blissfest.

It's between us, their genetics and time really. What we do with them, what happens to them when they're away from us and how they're wired. A little bit of destino? Between all of that, if we have their respect and love, we just might succeed in having kids we're proud of and respect!
This is what I work with anyway.

Symbiosis

Reh's been making it very clear that it would help if I used precisely exact and correct words in dealing with him. Every conversation now is peppered and stopped at starting, midway and in the end with "wassat mean?"
"Mom what did you mean by the word annoying?" ..... ........ ........ ,,..........
Fill in the blanks with any everyday word which even if he knows the meaning to, wants it explained in words. "Mom what did you just say?" (God forbid I swore under my breath) and basically every sentence has a ton of questions for him to deduce more from.


Mom why do we have noses? Mom why do we have butts? Mom why do I have hair? (What kind of an answer can you give to that question?) to Mom whats that on your chest? How come I don't have those? I was prepared for the birds and the bees talk but I'm not prepared for questions related to anatomical differences. Why did I assume that those questions would only come when they were older? Much older? I'm not averse to explaining but explaining to a three year old who gets a kick out of seeing my face turn serious and probably fumbling for answers in my head, it's not easy. The first part of this post was typed up 3 days ago.
Coupla minutes ago I tried turning the tables on him. Asked him why he had hair. Today. Now. 2 mins ago. You know what he tells me? Bcos he likes it (like he had a choice). And thats what combs are for. Asked him again and he gave me another set of answers. All silly.

Why didnt I figure that it would be ok to give silly answers? Why was I fantasising about investing in Why's and Encyclopaedia Britannica's right about now? In fact I was eyeing the wonderful collections they have for kids at the library yesterday. See now thats why I fret about not being chilled out enough. Everything is a do or die situation for me. I need to relax and enjoy this time with the kids. It's never going to be as innocent or simple in the future. Or is it?
My kids, my teachers. Who needs self-help books? Bah.

yegads

nosh is turning into a diva and i stand by looking on horrified.

I'm a low-profile, womanly baritoned (!!), quietish person. High-drama immobilises me and after a couple of experiences with drama-prone people, I steer clear of the likes. And then the inevitable happens.

My daughter starts turning into one. Conversations with her now make me feel uncool, so not-wit(h)-it and hyper-boring.

Her hands are flying and her eyelids are fluttering nineteen to the dozen times and hair-a-flipping, she's got the whole diva routine down pat and it makes me cringe. Either she's got theater in her and she's aping London from The Suite Life or she got it from her aunts. The dad's side lol!