Single word story!

I was feeding KG her lunch a couple of days back when KB was quietly doing something in the family room. I thought he was packing a gift for someone - a new fad he has going now. A few minutes later, he brought his doodle pro to me and asked me to pronounce the word he had written. I said "PCOFT" and pronounced it as "Pick koft". He said to me, "Mamma, that is a story I wrote". I said, "how is that a story?". He proceeded to enlighten me.

"Mamma, this is the story about a little boy named Pick". One day, he started coughing a lot. (He added in Tamil, "Gollu Gollu'nu cough pannithu, mamma". Then his mom took him to the doctor. He had bronchitis. So his mom went to "Reftan" (his own imaginary pharmacy) pharmacy and gave them a prescription for "Prednisone". Mamma, Reftan pharmacy has both squiggly balloon and medicines. The little boy took Prednisone - he took two teaspoons a day and then he was better. That is the story Mamma!

Wow - all that in one word "PCOFT
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Today he wrote another word "TFGCH" on his doodle pro.

He said to me "This is the story of a little boy named Tiff. He is four years old. He has a little sister named "Gich". She is two years old. And they are still friends".

That's it. That's the story behind "TFGCH". :)
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Since the time I wrote this post in my drafts section, he has written down many such random words and come up with little stories around these random letter words. Some very detailed, some very short ones. I guess it is the age of twittering, so why not one word stories! :)

When the baby bird learns to fly!

I just read this post by Mniamma. I especially enjoyed reading this line about her 8 month old daughter.

She also crossed over the main door threshold to wave ‘bye’ to M and N and I promptly made payasam to celebrate the occasion.

When KB was a few months old, may be three months old, I don't remember what milestone it was - but when I told my MIL about it, she asked me if I made some sweet to celebrate it. Somehow that was the first time I became aware of that tradition or rather paid attention to it. I am sure I had heard of it before but somehow I had not thought about it. I just love that tradition of making a sweet to celebrate little milestones like a baby's rolling over or crawling or taking the first step.

By that count, I feel almost like making some sweet myself and celebrating what to me is a huge milestone - if not for KB, for me as his mother! KB has been a rather stubborn, strong willed, sensitive child. The tamil phrase "Amma Kondu" is made for him. As the director of the first preschool he went to said to me, he clearly knows what he wants, he is not afraid or shy, he is mad at you for leaving him and going home, he is very articulate, he knows his mind and cannot be distracted. Now with a child like that, it has been hard to just leave him with any one or at drop off programs. He got used to one school last year and I stuck to that school all of last year because he was used to that place and I did want to traumatize him with changes. This year I started him off in a new school beginning of this month and after a minute of crying, he just calmed down and has been enjoying himself. But I had prepped him for it by taking him to that school three times and staying there with him for an hour.

Anyway - back to why I want to make payasam today! I enrolled him in an art class and this class meets every Tuesday for two hours. It is a drop off class and parent participation is not required. I casually asked KB last night if I can just drop him off and come back home with KG and pick him up at 12.00 pm. He too casually said, "Yeah".
"Yeah?" I said.

"Yeah yeah yeah", KB said confidently.

I thought to myself, well, he is just saying it. Am sure when I get there, he will probably start crying. Although a part of me felt that he was sounding quite sure of it. This morning, I drove him to class and filled out the emergency contact information. While I was filling it out, he was already in his spot in the class and he said to me, "Nee po Mamma" (you go mamma). I told him I would leave after filling out the form and wondered if he would cry if he saw me leave. I went and gave him a hug to make sure he knew I was leaving and I told him to be good and that I would see him at 12.00 pm. He said O.K but he continued to focus on the stencil he was working with then. I left the place along with KG.

I kept checking my cell phone to see if the teacher was calling me saying he was crying. I visited a friend for half an hour and came back and hung out by the lake behind the classroom. I could not believe it - KB did not cry at all and was having a good time. This is a class room he has never been to, it looked pretty serious (not so kiddish) - with tables and chairs and kids silently working on their art work without too much noise...the teacher was new and I just left him there and drove out of the place. And he was still fine! For those of you who know KB, I am sure you can feel my joy. Even his going to the new school was not as eventful as this one was to me. My little baby boy who has such a hard time being away from me other than at his preschool managed to stay in a new place on his own and enjoyed himself! KNOCK ON WOOD!
Mniamma, if I don't make payasam this week, you should send me a e-kick! :)

Kutti boy a big boy!

I have had so many little posts in my head but did not sit down to write any of them. I suppose like marriage you first are so excited when you start a blog...you think of what to write, feverishly read those scant comments that are left for your post, you get excited, disappointed, you then reposition yourself and settle more comfortably in that space...make new blog pals and get so comfortable with them that you don't really keep in touch with them...and the excitement of those initial posts is replaced by this feeling of familiarity and liberty. Counting on those few loyal blog pals to read you even if you post infrequently!

Am digressing. I figured I should write a short post at least because recently in my email exchange with Tara, I realized I had not even clearly written about how KB has healed after his cast was removed on Apr.20.09 after nearly seven weeks of his left arm being in one. It was not a pleasant time for me to see him that way but I also found it to be a different kind of experience in parenting. Where you learn to cope with the hardest part of it - that of bearing your child's pain with grace. He was not in pain but to see this child know his own limits as to what he can or cannot do, to know that he cannot go to the park unless he was just going to walk around...it was heart breaking if I paused to think about it. What carried me through was the only thought that it was a finite time and I should be mighty grateful for that - many people have it much much worse. And I pray to God that even if he were to put me (us) through difficult situations, it should be ones I can come out of and move on with life.

So much has happened in the last three months. KB's arm seems to have healed well, thank god. I still feel nervous when I see him run very fast on concrete areas in the park or jump from raised structures - but I try hard to not focus on it. We moved to a single level home with a nice yard and the kids are loving it. Just as I thought to myself, oh what a nice feeling to see the kids playing happily in the yard at the back hours on end, a friend told me a few days back that her house was burgled. That has left me nervous since she lives a couple of miles from my place. And this is supposed to be one of the safest places in the nation. Prayers again.

KG turned two in June and KB turned four in Aug. I can hardly believe it when I see the two kids sitting very close to each other, sometimes with KB leaning on KB while they watch "Free Willy". I need to write a separate post on their developing personalities. Polar opposites many ways. We had a party for them in a reserved picnic shelter at a beautiful park earlier in the month and it was a lot of fun. We had a puppet show for the kids which was a super hit. They all played ball and ran around on the field after the cake cutting. A couple of friends who I really hoped would come could not make it - other than that it was satisfying for me. The best part was that my mother was here with us the last two months and so she was there for the party. The kids just lovvved having Patti around. She taught them old tamil rhymes like "Maangai thalai murugan" which are utterly charming and cute. She left just two days back and I am sorely missing her presence at home. She was so good with the kids that I really feel bad for them.

KB started pre-K in a new school since the beginning of August. He got into another school close to my place after having been in their wait list for a long time. But KB chose to go to this other school instead. So I decided to go with his wishes. I am so glad we chose this current school. The teachers are absolutely wonderful and nurturing. They give the kids so much space to play and run and be kids and yet manage to also teach them things. It was one of the few schools that let me bring KB for three classes before enrolling there just so he can get used to the place with me around. The first day KB cried a little but calmed down soon after I left apparently. When I went to pick him up, he was leaning very comfortably on the bean bag and talking to his teacher and his classmates! So far so good. Praying that the teachers should continue here the whole year and KB should have a positive experience overall.

I leave you with a couple of pictures of gentle KB who is turning into a "Rettai val" (mischievous)as he turned four and that of free spirited KG who we call "Ragalai".

Feel good day!

Some days are just feel good days. Well, I know tomorrow I will probably be crying over some random thing or the other - hope the spirits don't hear me say this - but today has been a feel good day. KB has started swim lessons and this morning he was really enjoying the class. I felt happy about that.

Finally I actually got to meet a blogger face to face! And it was such a nice meeting. Met with Kodi's mom at my place for a few hours. Best part was seeing how well the kids especially KB and Kodi got along. They were both so amused with their own silly number jokes and seemed to really get each other and laugh over nothing! Kodi has such a sweet, down to earth temperament and she was so warm and pleasant - it was really nice seeing them all at our place. Every time she actually called Kodi "kuttimeow", I couldn't believe that I was actually physically seeing him. KB calls him his "new friend" and after got home from the park he said, " I wish Kodi Aunty would move here, so I can play silly number games with my friend every day". Plane papa has the most adorable eyes and soft chubby cheeks. All that was missing between him and Kodi's mom was super glue! He would not let her go out of sight. KB was just that way when he was one year old! I didn't have much time to think about our meeting before it happened - but when ever I did think about it - I was wondering how it would feel to actually meet a blogger in person. And wondered if my blog image will seem so different to them when they see me in person etc etc...But with Kodi's mom, it was so easy to settle into conversation and feel at ease. My mother too got to meet her and in her typical style she said later, "Romba nalla madhiriya irukkale andha ponnu" (she seems like a nice type!). So that was feel good #2.

Feel good #3 - KB has been on the brink of reading books on his own. He keeps asking me for spellings of words and I would just get him started and he would continue on with the sounds and spell it on his own with some help from me for words like "light" but totally on his own for simple words like "car". I don't know why - but I have sort of been waiting for this moment - more than I did even for his first steps. To be there when he reads a little book all on his own. We had decided this morning that after dinner we would go to his play room and he would read a book from the "Bob books" collection on his own. And he did! It was such an exciting feeling for me. And I could see it in the tone of his voice that he too felt so good that he could read it all by himself. I would have felt this good even if he had read a book on his own a year later. But it was that feeling of a huge world opening up for him that made me feel so good. God please keep him safe and healthy! The day KB fell down and fractured his elbow (on Feb.24.09), I had taken him to a home based montessori and KB seemed to like it - so Idecided to give it a shot. And when I talked to my sister that night, I told her that I was feeling so giddy with excitement about KB joining a new school. And that very night, he fell and fractured his elbow and couldn't go to any school, not even the one he was going to then for two weeks. Since then, I can't help but feel this knot in my stomach even when I get excited about anything regarding him.

KB turns four on Aug.3.09 and I am planning to have a party for both KB and KG together. I am planning to surprise him by inviting his teacher from a dance and music class that he took last year. She will organize some games/dance etc at the party. Even while I wrote to this teacher about timings for the party, I was feeling so excited at the thought of KB feeling happy and excited when he sees her. And I go through that same knot in the tummy kind of feeling that am being happy and what if it gets jinxed and KB gets hurts etc. Anyway it was overall a nice day!

Fantasy world!

I had written long time back about how KB and I have this tradition of coming up with story titles, taking turns each night. Either me or his dad have to then come up with some made up story based on that title. The next morning KB usually tells me the story.

In the process we realized how fantastic children's imagination at this stage (he will be four in Aug) can be. The kinds of names KB comes up with for the characters in his stories! These are either animal stories or people stories. Some of the names he comes up with makes me think he has been secretly reading Tolkein or C.S.Lewis. Before I fall asleep on the keyboard I will quickly write down some of the names he gives to characters (it always involves a boy and his little sister or just two brothers) stories. He comes up with these names as we start telling the story. Funnily enough, he also tells me how old they are and the little girl is always two but the boy's age varies between 4 and 8.

I usually start off saying, "Once there was a little boy and his name was" and then KB says, "let me think" and in a couple of seconds comes up with some random name. Only in the last one week I have remembered to actually write them down. I felt really guilty that he has been coming up with these really exotic names for his story characters and I don't remember any of them. So I wrote down some of them. Here are some for your amusement!

The cricket story :
Vrittan - age 7
Gernik - age 2

The little girl who was mischievous:
Vurukerak - age 7
Juveliar - age 2

The little boy who wants to be an orthopedist:
Aver - age 6
Dr.Rake

The little boy who tells time correctly:
Joar - age 5
Ribi - age 2

The little girl gets a time out: (I think this was the title)
Kittrank - age6
Keedle - age 2
Velk - Mom
Zon - Dad
Ms.Dank - teacher

The blue whale and the sea turtle:
Kraker - age 5
Halle - age 2

The frog and the goat:
Daquiri - age 5
Lavel - age 2
Relaver - Uncle

As is this wasn't enough for him every day, he has told my mom that he is going to give her 100,000 names. He doesn't know what that number really means - but every now and then he walks by paati and says "Paati, your name is Zeel". And my mom will say to him "Seal". He then says, "Seal ille paati, Zeel...Z - Zebra'le varume". And then she has to correct herself and say "Zeel".

We went to Seaworld last weekend and bought him a little dolphin and KG a little whale. As soon as we got home he went on to name the dolphin and KG's whale as
"Wuruke" and "Zam" respectively.

I better stop - I am falling asleep on the computer!

Moved and mostly settled in...

We moved houses on Sunday, May.31.09. The kind of stuff that you only want to think back on and not want to go through again in the near future. Painful as it is, somehow I find moves very refreshing once I finish moving and settling in. There is something fundamentally different when you actually live in a different house and it feels as if there is something to look forward to in getting used to the new place, new neighborhood etc. I went through the usual feeling of "I wish I didn't have to move from a place that I am so used to now". I had that fear or discomfort of the unknown...even in something as simple as going for a walk and not knowing who you will see or feeling unfamiliar even with the names of the streets. It is June 20 now and I can't believe it has already been twenty days since we moved in. I feel happy to be here more than I thought I would be.

In a strange way, I went through (as most people probably do during moves) a introspective experience during the process of packing and unpacking. A feeling of suffocation and disgust at the amount of things we accumulate...wanting to just dump everything and live in such a way that I would know exactly what we have in every box and not have anything that I don't use every day. But after we finished moving to the new place and I started unpacking, it was a warm feeling of contentment in putting things in place and turning the bare rooms into a home. Putting up pictures, little paintings by KB, magnets from places we have been to...The opposing feelings that you go through in the process of opening boxes you had not looked at in years...like when I see old letters and wonder why I save them when in fact I only look at them during moves. But it is those few minutes when you discover unexpected things that you go through the nostalgia of days gone by...it feels good. And yet I wish I could throw some of those away because it feels like a life lived in some other birth. Friends who I have lost touch with, friends who I only want to remember fondly but don't want to really get in touch with - because deep down I feel we have drifted in our paths in life...it brings with it a certain sadness as well.

An example. I opened a wedding invitation from an old friend from the time I was working. I was staying in a dorm room at that time and I just bumped into him at the lounge when I went in to check out the piano there. He was an American who happened to play a hindi song on the violin at that time. And that's how we got talking. We became very good friends. Now we have completely lost touch for no real reason. He is now a successful physician, married (he used to talk about his dates with her when they first got to know each other) with two kids, and I am a sahm. We have shared so much as friends and yet I really don't feel like it would mean much to even get back in touch. We have laughed so much and discussed so much about different topics - it brings back such good memories. It's all Maya - B likes to tease me when I worry about some things. In some ways looking at some of these old letters from friends somehow made me think of that - Maya. It all seems so ephemeral and fleeting. However, there is the slow reality to contend with. Duties to be performed no matter how fleeting everything is in the big picture. I look at my aging mother now and I think to myself that this is who raised me and toiled with me when I refused to eat, who trained me to eat, sleep, go to school. Now this is her reality - a life without my father, her pace slowing down and her belongings that can fit into suitcases while she travels around to spend time with each of us. She too lived in a large home with a million things - large Godrej bureau, furniture, bedding, couches, kitchen utensils, jewellery, car, books, "golu" bommais, and million other things that made up her home. The cycle of life. As I build our home, even if it is a rental home, it is still a wonderful feeling to have a place to call home. But I am afraid sometimes to even pause on that thought...what if...we are all so dependent on each other that without the four of us there is no home now. I immediately pray for every one to be healthy and safe. A friend recently lost her brother in a swimming accident and soon after that I read this news. As I hear my friend talk about how she saw her brother physically healthy just a few minutes before he drowned and passed away, I wonder how one ever comes to terms with something like that. My heart feels full in the quietness of the night as I hear the soft music playing in our room where B and the kids are asleep...and yet I realize I am merely going through the motions of life that my mother too went through even if not in exactly the same ways and my children will soon grow up and the cycle of life will continue and one has to be ready for its idiosyncrasies and one never knows what life will throw at you at any point...

That was a long "stream of consciousness" kind of post! If you manage to get to the end of this post, do let me know (or better still write a post about it) about your experiences and feelings while moving.

BTW - KG turned two on June 17, we had a little cake thing for her at home. Plan to have a party for her along with KB's in August. Will post a couple of pics later.

Get me to write!

Oh God - please someone make me write again! I so badly want to - but every night I am either too tired or too lazy to log in and write a new post! I so badly want to write stuff so I remember at least a few snippets later.

Is any one still reading me? I know, Aryan you are, since your comment is new! Good to see you back!

Sorry folks - for those who bothered to check - for not writing any new posts! So much happening. Not that that is an excuse!

Let me give a quick update.

- KB's cast is off (was removed on Apr 14). We went on a trip to my brother's place for four days - soon after got back from that trip, the cast was off. He seems to have healed well based on the X-ray and the range of movement - thank heavens. Knock on wood. Anti jinx etc etc! :) KB who was crying school and had me really worried that he was regressing just magically stopped the day his cast was off. I felt really bad for even trying to get him to go to school when he probably felt insecure deep down because his hand was in a cast.

- KG is wild as ever - loves to jump even while walking. Just jumps and hops instead of walking even at home. And the stairs are her favorite. Well, after KB's fall, I became more paranoid and could not handle the stress of the two kids chasing each other up and down the stairs inside the house. I knew that once my mother or my FIL come to stay with us, I would have to cook a lot more and I was afraid I would let the oil burn if I heard one of the kids fall! So I decided that we should move to a single level rental home.

- I have been busy house hunting. Finally found a place, carpeted, with a nice backyard and fairly spacious as well. But it is older than the house we are in - so takes some getting used to - older looking fixtures in terms of style. Although newly painted and in a neighborhood with a good elementary school (KB should be joining KG in 2010 unless I decide to hold him back a year before he goes to KG).

- We move this coming Sunday. In the meanwhile, KB has been sick since Sunday. He went to our neighborhood park to fly a kite with his dad while KG and I ran all over the field. That evening both kids are all healthy, happy running all over the place. Next morning, they wake up dull with a fever! Damn these viruses! Since Tuesday KB has been coughing non stop - I felt like heart would literally break. I took him and KG to the doctor on Tuesday morning. After chest exam and nebulizer treatment, they said his chest was clear. No need for antibiotics. We get home - but he continues to cough. He could not eat any solid food. Any liquids he drank also, he could not keep it in because of the cough. Wednesday morning, again I took both kids (B was very busy at work those two days) to the doctor by myself. Again the same thing. Just a bad virus they said. But Wed evening, the cough was unberable for me. I told B to come home asap and take KB to urgent care. There, the doctor prescribed "Prednisone". Finally after a second dose of Prednisone this morning followed by a nap early afternoon, KB woke up without the terrifying cough. I would dread mornings and night times because especially after lying down, he would just cough so unbearably. Again, he has been so patient through all this the last three days. In fact he consoled me so many times that slowly, if he kept drinking water, he would "defeat" the virus! :) He keeps listening to my conversation with the doctor, with my sister who is a pediatrician and to my conversations with B - so he picks up all these things and talks like he is a doctor himself. This morning, when I told him ina frustrated tone, "I don't know what to do KB...I have taken you to the doctor thrice and given you medicines...the cough is just not going away. It is going to take some time". He tells me "But they have not done a chest X-ray for me!". (To rule out bacterial infection!). His getting better has been the best birthday gift for me. It was really killing me to see him suffer like this and not eat anything for three days in a row. God please keep these kids healthy. In the meanwhile, KG has been constipated and is also congested. But she became cranky etc only after KB got better - so at least I could manage them both one sick kid at a time! Thank heavens for small mercies!

So that's the update! My mother is going to visit us soon after we move to our new place. KB is excited that his "Patti" will be here soon. Am looking forward to seeing them interact with my mother. Hopefully after we settle down, I will be able to write a little more frequently!

Hope you are all doing well!

Red it is!

Posting again - for some reason the last part of my post did not get posted...
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The orthopedic surgeon had told us to come in for a check up a week after the surgery to add one more layer to the cast since he had left room for swelling. So we went to his clinic again and KB very happily sat on the bed and waited for the surgeon. When the doctor walked in and asked KB how he was feeling and if he was feeling any pain, KB casually said, "No, I don't feel any pain". And again said, "Why didn't you give me a red cast?". The surgeon said, "Ahh...yeah. Even my daughter (who looked about six) asked me why I didn't give KB a red cast?" (She happened to walk with him during his rounds the day after KB's surgery). He told KB, "OK, we will give you red today". And when they were really ready to put on the next layer, the doctor playfully asked KB, "You want orange?", to which KB surely replied, "Red"! The surgeon smiled and said to him, "Just making sure!". KB looked satisfied with his new cast. I felt quite bad to think that we still had five more weeks to go but I tried hard to tell myself that time will go by fast.

A few days later, I took KB and KG to "Party city", since KB wanted some "worm balloons". After I got that and other such junk in my cart, I walked to the check out line. And I could not believe the coincidence in the conversation I had with two people at the line. The guy behind me asked me "What happened to his arm?" and I told him. He said, "The moment I saw him, I knew...because my son went through the exact same fall - just two feet high - fell awkwardly and had a surgery soon after and was in a cast for six weeks!". Same hospital even. And the woman in front of us heard him talking and said, "My daughter had it even worse...she was only two and she broke her collar bone when she climbed on the kitchen table and fell down...and they could not do any surgery or anything...it just had to heal on its own!".

Can you believe the coincidence - this has never happened to me - I rarely even talk to people while standing at the check out line, especially at party city! And all three of us had gone through the same kind of thing...I could not believe it. I felt as if it happened to make me feel better and to reassure me that KB will be back to normal soon. The other guy said his son is totally back to normal...and even the little kid with the collar bone fracture eventually started using her arm. All is well that ends well!

KB now walks around with his bright red cast. I tell the story of how he fell and what happened to his arm like a broken record since the bright red cast attracts the attention of so many people!
KB just runs around and his sister seems oblivious to any of this. The other day I came out of the bathroom quickly only to see KG happily playing with her brother except that in the process she was literally sitting on him on the couch! I have to guard his arm and make sure it doesn't get rammed into or it doesn't get wet. Each time I feel sorry, I control myself and think about Baby S and how he has now had his one eye removed (His mom emailed me saying the surgery went well) and that I should take this in stride...kids fall, period. They run around and things happen. I am trying hard not to walk on egg shells all the time worrying when either KB or KG will fall from something.

I will end this post with some nice words from Baby S's strong and courageous mother (the baby who had tumors in his one eye). "I cannot wait until he is well, it seems to be such a simple thing considering there are so many children who are just normal and healthy, but I know to be able to raise a normal and healthy child is both a miracle and blessing. I wish you all the strength and blessings that Baby S has taught me to take care of your son and daughter. We will keep your family in our prayers." Her son, all of sixteen months old had taught her to be strong and in turn she is giving me strength. And I pass it on to all of you.

The bright red cast...

My brother and I waited in the family area talking to the other mom (T) about her baby S. I just stepped out after about half an hour when I saw an OR nurse wheeling out the stroller in which they took KB inside. I asked him how much longer the surgery would take and he said it was already done and they are now putting the cast on him. I was very surprised and relieved to know it was over already. I had expected to wait for an hour and a half. But we had to wait another half an hour for them to allow us into the recovery room. B had to stay with KG in the family area while I went in to see KB. They had a little crib kind of bed made of steel, I guess to prevent kids from falling out etc. KB was still fast asleep under the effect of the anesthesia. The IV needles were still connected and he did not have his shirt on. Just a pillow on top of his chest. He still had his pants and shoes on him. My first instinct was that he would be cold and I asked the nurse about it. She said he wasn't cold since they keep the room temperature warm and he had a pillow on his chest. He looked suddenly so much more grown up in the kind of expression his sleeping face had. It is so hard to put into words.

I went out to the family area and let B in to see KB. While B was waiting there, the nurse tried to wake him up just so they could make sure he was able to recognize us, was able to speak clearly etc before transferring him to the main hospital (out of the surgery unit) for the night.
When KB woke up, he started crying immediately asking for "Mammma". So B told me to rush in and I came running to see KB. As soon as I held his fingers, he was calm. Half awake but clearly recognizing us all. I asked him if he wanted me to sing "Mudakaratha modakam" a song he has heard me sing nearly every day. He said yes. I sang softly into his ears. The nurse was passing by and I asked her how long before we get transferred to the hospital. KB even in his half asleep state was following my singing. He got upset that I was not continuing. So I quickly started singing again. He fell asleep again while I waited there. A few minutes later, he woke up again and looked up and said "Hey, anga paaru, sea horse!" (Look there, a sea horse), pointing a picture above him. After sometime the nurse told us which room we would be moving to at the hospital for an over night stay before being discharged. They wheeled KB as it is in the crib bed and we (myself, B, KG and my brother) followed the nurse to the next building.

The day before the surgery, at the doctor's office, they had asked KB what color cast he would like to get on his fractured elbow. He looked at the spectrum of colors on display and picked "red" instantly. B blames it on my influence. He says I don't even realize how much I gravitate towards red when it comes to clothes. When I saw KB in the recovery room, I was disappointed to see him in a blue cast because they had specifically asked KB what color he wanted but gave him the wrong color. To a child, these things matter. When KB was moved to a bed at the main hospital, he noticed his cast and immediately said, "hey, why didn't they give me red?!". I told him some random reason but KB did not buy it. It was close to 7.00 p.m. already, KG had to be fed. So they left and I was alone with KB. I told the nurse around 8.00 pm that KB had not peed since 2.00 pm. She said that I could give him juice and then if he tolerated it well, we could then coax him to pee. She said it he did not pee even after four more hours, they would then use a catheter. I was again afraid of one more procedure on him, so my immediate goal was to get him to pee after drinking his juice. Thankfully that all went OK and the nurse gave him stickers even for that! KB had a field day because I gave him juice when ever he asked for it. And different flavors each time! Because he hadn't eaten anything all day. We sat and watched some baby Einstein programme on TV and then I read some books and told him stories. He complained of the cast feeling too tight, so they had given him morphine. He was not sleepy at all and said that he would only sleep at home. I somehow convinced him that we could only go home the next morning. Finally around 11.40 pm, he fell asleep. I slept right next to him in his bed itself. I hardly got some two or three hours of sleep that night. But KB slept well for the most part except when he had to get up to go to the bathroom.

The next morning when the surgeon came on rounds, KB answered his questions about how he was feeling etc and immediately said to him, "WHY didn't you give me red?!". The surgeon was really sweet about it and said that he knew at the back of his mind that he had messed up. He then apologized and said one week later, when he put on another layer, he would give KB a red cast. I really appreciated the kindness with which the doctor talked to KB and really understood that these little things matter to the child.

BTW - I am writing all this so I don't forget about it all - I don't mean to bore you all with fine details. I am assuming people will skip over to read the gist if they do read this post! I want to write about the other two moms and the coincidental meeting with two other parents at Party city...but I am too sleepy now to continue. Hope to write about that in the next post.

The little soldier...

I wanted to write about this whole experience for different reasons. One, writing helps me feel a tiny bit lighter. Two, I wanted to remember how KB reacted to this whole thing and how he amazed me with this mental fortitude in just accepting things as is and truly going forward instead of looking back and moping about how and why he has to go through all this. The kind of resilience you always knew kids had but when seeing it first hand, it really amazes you. Three, I wanted to remember the strength of the other two moms I met there and wanted to write about it for me and all of us to be inspired by and draw strength from to face our own little problems.

Back to the "brave young man" and "little soldier", titles KB truly earned from the nurse who treated him in the ER and also in the recovery room after the surgery. When they took him to take some "pictures" of his hand, KB told me "Amma, X-ray yedukka poraa maa" and the nurse was taken aback by how cool he was about it. He was fascinated by all that was happening around him in the ER. He did not cry while she took the X-rays, he just wanted me next to him, that's all. And while we waited for the doctor he told me, "Amma, I am looking at why every one here is wearing glasses" and then we spent some time looking at who were or were not wearing glasses. The nurse told him "You were so brave, how many stickers do you want?". Very innocently, he replied "Two". She said, "Only two? No. You were so brave, I want to give you five stickers". KB was thrilled and it was touching to see how he was still such a baby.

Before the surgery, they gave him "Versed" a medication used to reduce anxiety and also reduce their short term memory so they wouldn't remember exactly what happened at that instance. The nurse said he would act drunk almost 10 min after he drank it. But KB was fully alert even half an hour after they gave him the medication. I was very nervous because it was now 3.00 p.m. and I had to wheel him into the OR and hand him over to the surgeon. Thankfully he was in the stroller and I just wheeled him there and the nurse took over without him realizing it. It was heart breaking to hand him over and see him disappear behind the double doors. The nurse reassured me "We will take good care of him. We will put a mask on as soon as we go in and he will be asleep". I just prayed that he should be OK and everything should go smoothly. The surgeon had said it would take about an hour and half for the surgery. B immediately went back home to pick up KG and come back with her to the hospital.

My brother and I were waiting in the family room when I bumped into the other mom waiting there. Her older son was the same age as KB and was playing there. Her younger son, 16m old was in the OR while she was waiting there. I asked her what the problem was with her child. Very calmly she said to me "He keeps getting tumors in his eye orbit". My heart sank even hearing those words. Her strength just shook me. Here I was completely falling apart at the thought of KB undergoing surgery for a fractured elbow and here she was like a rock facing such horrors. I asked her, "How do you manage to be so strong?". She said, "Because I faced the worst when they made the diagnosis. But now I am strong because he has no one else. I have to be strong for him. We have been here so many times and each time after surgery, he bounces right back and starts playing his older brother. We are coming back here next week. They are going to take his eye out because if not they said he won't make it". It sent shivers down my spine to hear those words even. I felt as if God sent me to her in that family room to remind me that kids are strong and that I need to be strong for KB too. I felt so badly for that mom, I just wanted to hug her tight. I couldn't find words to describe how inspired I was by her calm strength and courage as a mother.

While driving to the ER, I was telling B that truly it was these moments when we are really parenting. Rest of the times, you feed the kids, they grow up. You sort of just coast along and go with the flow. It is during the moments of extreme highs and lows that you as a parent have to be the fulcrum and hold the child in place and give them the strength to be calm. And in the moments of lows like this one, you are truly tested. You have to bear the pain of seeing your child in pain, of not being in control of their destiny. Some of you wrote about the guilt I might feel. But strangely that is one thing I did not feel much of. Because I truly could not have prevented this unless I kept him in front of my eyes 24/7 without ever doing any other work. He was just sitting in his high chair after dinner chatitng with me while I was loading the dishwasher. As I bent down to load some dishes, I heard him scream in pain. He was getting down when he just slipped and fell awkwardly. From a height of may be 2 feet. It is like an adult tripping while walking. I just had no control over it. I did have very negative thoughts like, "It is my bad karma that is affecting him" etc etc. Truly speaking, I still have those kind of ridiculous thoughts , but what can I do about it. I have to accept that I cannot control every aspect of his destiny. This was the first stark reminder for me that I do no have control over my children's life beyond a certain point. Life just happens and my role is to be there for them no matter what. That is all I can do. And meeting that other mom and hearing her calm words, I realized what a responsibility that was. To be strong when your child is in pain. I have been fighting myself each time I feel pity for KB to see him do things with only one hand. I tell myself, if he is being strong and taking it in stride, it is quite ridiculous of me to feel sorry for him. Why me, why him...yes, I do feel that way. But I tell myself, there is much worse out there. At least God has granted me the mercy of a finite time of six weeks when his hand has to be in a cast and the hope of things being back to normal. Something so many others don't have. I am afraid to even dwell on that thought. I move on quickly to the mundane of every day life so I don't focus on any of this too much.

Will continue...

Things change in a split second

I never expected to start writing again. But when your heart feels heavy, you need to pour out. You want to question the unknown and rebuke destiny for how merciless it can be. And that sort of absurdness can only happen in your own space - your diary or in this case your own blog.

My dear little KB (who is now 3.5) fell off his high chair step on Tuesday (Feb 24) night around 9.00 p.m. He uses it just like a chair - it is more convenient for him to sit in it and reach up to the table to read his books while I give him dinner. He climbs in and out of it all the time quite comfortably. But that night he just slipped by chance and fell awkwardly and landed on his elbow. Because we have tiled hard floors in the dining area, the impact resulted in a fractured elbow. I could tell from the way he held his arm that it was serious. So immediately we rushed him to ER. He was so brave and so calm in the ER when they took X-rays and put his hand in a cast. The ER doctor made us wait for over an hour (at 12.00 a.m) while he waited to hear back from the orthopedist. Finally at 1.15 a.m or so he talked to us and said that the orthopedist was insistent that we take KB to a surgeon right the next morning. He said that KB might need surgery to put pins in his elbow to hold the displaced bones in place to make sure he does not suffer arthritis as a young adult. The moment the ER doctor uttered the word "surgery", I literally was fainting. I could not stand, just had to go and sit in the chair. I somehow gathered myself after a few seconds to continue the conversation.

B took Wednesday off and I spent all morning trying to get a referral and an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon. I hardly slept because I kept worrying and praying that the surgeon should not look at the x-rays and say that he needs surgery. But sadly that is what happened. He said KB needs to have surgery on Friday (Feb 27) at 3.00 p.m. By then I had cried so much at night etc when KB wasn't seeing me that I was mentally prepared for it. The thought of general anesthesia scared me to no end but I had no choice but to face it. The surgeon was kind enough to squeeze in KB's surgery at a short notice but then he could only do it at 3.00 p.m. Because it had to be done under general anesthesia, I was not allowed to give him any solids from 7.00 a.m. And not even water after 1.00 p.m. I was worried sick as to how I could refuse breakfast and lunch and hold on till 3.00 p.m. But sometimes even in bad times a few crumbs of good luck get thrown your way. KB being the angel that he is, also helped me out so much. His perception of my emotions stuns me at times. Very unusually on Thursday, he woke up from his nap three times and said "Mamma, I love you". And that night he said to me just when he was about to fall asleep "Mamma, I love you the most". I made him take his afternoon nap late and made him go to bed only at 11.30 p.m. My brother flew in to be of moral support to me and I waited him to come before taking KB to bed.

The next morning, I gave KB 8oz of pediasure at 6.30 a.m and then made him go back to bed. Strangely he woke up only at 9.00 a.m. though he usually wakes up by 7.00 a.m. every morning. KG on the other hand woke up very early so I took her to my neighbor's place and made her take her afternoon nap there while we took KB to the hospital. After KB woke up, I gave him a bath very carefully without getting his cast wet. I had to cut a long sleeve shirt to be able to put his sleeve through the cast. Around 10.30 a.m. I gave him 4oz of Motts' juice. The surgeon had told me to keep even the clear liquids to a minimum. I was so paranoid that he should not have a reflux reaction to the anesthesia so I tried to be very strict about keeping the clear fluids also to a minimum. KB was so calm and so mature, not once he asked me for his morning milk or cereal or even for water. I had prepped him the previous night as to what I would give him and he somehow accepted it and did not give me a hard time. We got into the car around 12.30 pm in order to check in at the hospital at 1.00 p.m. The patient interview etc lasted for an hour. We then went into the short stay unit (SSU 4) and there they checked his weight/pulse etc. KB has been playing a lot with his doctor kit so he was quite enjoying the whole scene there. He wore his plastic doctor's glasses while we went into the hospital. A surgeon who was passing by as we entered said to KB, "Those glasses look cool man! Do you want to see my glasses?" and he had a cool magnetic pair that would come apart in the middle and hang around his neck which he showed to KB. KB immediately turned to me and said "I want magnetic glasses too Mamma"!".

To be continued...

Happy new year!! And goodbye for a while!

Wishing you all a very happy new year! I hope the coming year is filled with many happy moments, lots of laughter, cozy times with family and good health most of all!

I have been wanting to take a blogging break partly because of time issues. But I never could get myself to do it - because what started as a whim became so much a part of my life - I got so involved in the lives of the people I read about. I think about them often and if I did't read any posts from them, I wondered about what was happening at their end. Blogging felt like a life line on some days when the mundane things in life piled on so much that you felt weighed down by it all. Reading about a child's achievement, a travel escapade, a school play, a funny incident, a monthly update all served to cheer me up on those days. And on days I did post, it was exciting to look to see if any one had read it and commented on it. It all became an addiction. I have gotten to know some wonderful people through these blogs and felt a sense of community despite having very little time to meet people and socialize in a group locally. I will miss it all terribly which is why I want to safely call this a blogging break - because I would like to come back to it some day when I feel like it. And hopefully have a few people still visit my site and leave comments and make some connection. I thank very sincerely the people who have read my posts and left me comments and also established a more personal connection through email. I will of course still be accessible on email. I don't want to make this too dramatic for I don't know really if any one will even notice - but for the few who do, I wanted to say a proper good bye before taking a break! Hope the year 2009 is a wonderful one for you and your family!

Impulse

Shweta walked passed the vanity sink to get her red sequined Sari from the walk-in closet. She started draping it around her and threw the pallu over her shoulder. For a second she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She wondered for a second if it was really her. She had taken a month off from her graduate studies for her wedding in Delhi. Just six months back she had been toiling in her computer laboratory working late hours and having no thoughts of a wedding. Rajesh walked into her life and changed all of that. She had plenty of talent, had excellent education and sharp features too. Yet she had never felt comfortable in social settings and would retreat to a corner. She never felt that she had the smoothness of conversation that her friend Vidya did. She had envied Vidya for her cool demeanor around her male friends. So many of them had fallen for Vidya while Shweta had always been the friend, the confidante to the men who sought out her friend. They would befriend her to gain access to Vidya.

When Rajesh approached her and asked her out for dinner, she was sure this was about playing messenger to Vidya. She never felt animosity towards her for that but could not help feeling disappointed at the thought when it came to Rajesh. He was the mate she had in her mind. The intelligent look in his eyes, the accessible demeanor, passion for music, being able to converse well in Tamil, he even wore thin rimmed glasses just like the image she had in mind. And to see this guy falling for her friend. Why couldn't this one person have liked her and not Vidya? She cursed herself for her bad luck and bit her lip and tried to conceal her emotions as they sat down to eat.

The rest of the evening and the months that followed still felt like a dream. Rajesh had very simply told her that he liked her and would like to marry her. Straight. No dating, no mind games. To the extent she wondered if there was a catch. If there was something she was missing here. Things fell in place so smoothly that she lost track of time and of herself. For someone who had never dated anyone, to be accepted and desired so sincerely by the man of her dreams made it hard for her keep her feet on the ground. She felt like she really understood what cloud nine meant during those months.

She put the sindoor on her forehead and admired herself. She had started wearing eye liner and lip gloss ever since she got engaged. She had suddenly felt a desire to look beautiful, not just pleasing. She started wearing bright clothes and bold earrings. She stood in front of the vanity mirror and thought of her good luck. She now had a wonderful husband and not just that. She had a mother-in-law who was beyond belief. She treated Shweta like a queen. She gave them space and let them have their time together. She never expected her to cook and praised her singing when Rajesh asked her to sing at family gatherings.

Rajesh and Shweta got into the car and left for Bangalore. Mrs.Govind as she was known to many of her students put her feet up and let herself absorb the vacant feeling in the house. The house guests had finally left that morning and after three weeks of frenzied activity, she had two days to herself. Even her husband had gone out of town on work. She thought of her daughter-in-law. The focus of her son's attention now. Mrs.Govind had raised him well and given him all that she could as a mother. And now her job was done. She felt good but it was bitter sweet. She had been a school principal and had an air of sophistication about her that her daughter-in-law did not. They were wealthy in comparison and had more refined tastes in her opinion. As a daughter-in-law, she felt Shweta was no match for her. She did not speak English with a crisp accent. She looked good but dressed simply. She never wore high heels or sleeveless blouses. They lived in a large bungalow in Delhi but Shweta grew up in a two bedroom flat in Madurai. She does have brains though, Mrs.Govind thought to herself. And she seems to be more at peace with herself than I am at this point, she muttered silently.

She went upstairs to rest up and sort out her muddled thoughts. What is it she wanted out of her daughter-in-law? She was lucky to have Shweta in her life. She knew that. But she felt a feeling of hatred wash over her when she was alone at home. Yes, she was alone. In more than one sense of the word. She had prepared for this mentally and yet she found herself unprepared. As she walked up to her room, she passed by Rajesh's room. Not his room anymore, their room she thought to herself. She walked past the room and suddenly turned back and gave into impulse. She opened the door and walked in to catch a glimpse of Shweta's personal life. Curiosity took over the best of her. The crisp accented, power wielding, bold, wealthy, well dressed Mrs.Govind found herself peering into her new daughter-in-laws suitcase. She felt sick even as she walked in. She opened it gingerly and found jeans and sweaters, couple of books, salwars and Saris tossed in carelessly. Nothing interesting she thought to herself. She got up to leave before she puked at her own behavior completely lacking in culture. Her eyes fell on the little music box on the side pouch. Feeling disgusted with herself, she still pulled it out and opened it. "To my only love" the personal inscription read. She hurriedly put it back unable to stand any of it. She quickly put it back in place and rushed out of her room. She put her head back on the pillow and felt tears rushing down. She turned on her favorite ghazals on the CD player by her bedside and turned around and closed her eyes.

P.S. Fictional, based on hearsay and imagined characters!

KB's preschool update II

I wrote this post on Sep.29.08 - nearly three months back. Funny how you worry your brains out about something and then three months later (well much sooner in this case but I am writing about it only now) you have forgotten about the tension you went through then. At that time, I had been wondering what to do about KB's preschool situation. I had chosen that school thinking it was a good fit for KB and I liked the play atmosphere in the school. But then KB cried so much that after a month of trying, the director told me to take a month off and bring him back. I had been quite upset that they called me each time he cried thus not giving him a chance to just cry it out for a few days and eventually get used to school. Well, things just work out in the way they are meant to work out.

I had written about this preschool program that I started taking KB to since early October. For the first three weeks, I used to drop him in the classroom, but I would be walking in the park outside the classroom. KB knew I was in the vicinity. In the beginning of November, when my cousin and her family visited me, she dropped him in school and the whole gang went later to pick him up. My cousin, her husband and two children, my mami - all of them! That was the first day he was dropped off and I was not there in the vicinity. From that point on, either me and B drop him off at school and then I go to pick him up. He looks really happy there. He does some craft every day and he proudly shows it to me. The kids who come there are all between ages three and five - so he gets to interact with younger and older kids and he seems quite comfortable with it.

It reamains to be seen how well he will adjust when he goes to a proper school with longer hours. But for now I am most happy that this is exactly what I wanted out of preschool for KB at age three - one that will make him happy and one where he will do some stuff and have fun doing it. He plays different games each day - duck and goose game or kids soccer etc. They trace one page of some alphabet each day. Just simple tracing games like match the letter to the picture and then trace the letter type stuff. And they read two or three books to them each day while the kids are eating snack. Even after I go to pick him up, he continues playing there for another fifteen minutes! Knock on wood.

Last year, I searched all over the place for a preschool for KB. I might never have picked this place because it wasn't what I was looking for. But the way things turned out, KB made his choice and somehow it seems like the best thing that could have happened for now. Am hoping the next school he goes to for age four (he turns four in Aug 09), the transition goes smoothly. I decided not to move him to another school in Jan itself but to wait till July of 09. I don't know if he is missing out on serious learning but I don't feel like rocking the boat now. KB is enjoying himself, so I just want to let it be! Well, the little man seems to make his own choices anyway!

Award

These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers! Deliver this award to more bloggers who must choose more and include this text into the body of their award.

Thanks to CA and to Mammamia for this award. They truly deserve this award. I would have passed it on to them had not received this award already!

I pass it on to these people who also are truly deserving of this award. They are warm, down to earth and always make you feel like you can drop them a line even if you don't know them and you have this feeling that they will respond with warmth. Even if you don't actually write to them, you get that kind of feeling from their writing.

Ranjani

SS

Kodi's mom

Collection of stars (who has stopped blogging for a while!)

Bangalore mom

Dipali

Neera

MNamma

Once a parent, always a parent...

I think back to the days when I was a student. I had this image of finishing school, getting a job, getting married, having kids etc. I have older siblings so I saw them go through it all even as I was a young girl in middle school. I had spent good amount of time playing with and cuddling and enjoying my nieces and nephews. I remember how my first nephew used to cry his guts out on some days when he was left alone with us (when his parents went out) and we would pray that his then nanny should be still in the neighborhood so we could go get her to calm him down. Which she could really do like magic. Or how my sister used to sound out words to my niece when she was a preschooler - like "sss ah t" (for sat) etc while giving her dinner. And how my other sister told her husband they would just have to cancel their trip to India because they forgot to put my nephew's "Nebulizer" in the van (he was asthmatic) on the way to the airport stopping at my brother's place on the way. My brother made calls to local pharmacies and managed to find one that would sell them one right away. I remember my second brother concealing his anxiety and praying to God standing in his pooja room while my nephew went through a temporary but severe phase of alopecia. And I think back on those little and big moments now and see it more clearly - what it means to be a parent. How you can't help but celebrate your children's every acheivement and how their every little pain is yours to bear as well.

I read this post by Mad Momma and I could feel her joy. And really felt pride at the little boy's accomplishment on getting potty trained and being able to carry on this basic function independently. I read this post by Tharini just now (and these somewhat prompted me to write this post) and I felt like physically reaching out and patting Winkie on his back for such a commendable job. On what? On being able to go through the tedious process of wearing the whole set of winter gear patiently and correctly. And to actually not take up his mom on the offer of getting dropped off in school. What more reward does a parent want than knowing the child is learning to fly on his own? These posts might have seemed like posts on trivial every day things from a giddy mom before I became a mom myself. I don't know - just wondering if I would have appreciated as much what each of these things mean to a parent before I became one myself. It is indeed a giddy feeling when your child is able to do the simplest of things on his own. From latching on perfectly as an infant to nurse, being able to look at your eyes and smile, to roll over, to roll a ball, to saying mamma, to look at the birds in awe, to point to the moon on a summer night...every moment, a celebration. Deep within. That is only shared in equal magnitude by the other parent. In the look they give each other and knowing that the other person too feels like jumping in delight. And in that feeling deep within when you feel like you are blessed infinitely - that your child is able to do every simple thing that we take for granted. But as a parent, you do feel pride when you read about children who you get to know through blogs - in some sense you watch them grow - in a different way - through the written word. You imagine their personalities and you marvel at the little things they do. I still remember some of Winkie's art work, Ayaan's arrangement of flowers, Beanie talking clear words at a very early age, Sooraj's lovely gift for his mother...so many little things like that. These are children I have not met but only read about them through the mommy blogs. I relate to the pride the mother's feel when they write about them because that is what being a parent does to you. And it makes you realize what an important task you have at hand. That of raising children. Precious little ones that are moulded to a large extent by how much nurturing the parents are able to provide them.

I read this recently and agreed with No 1 on the list. To be able to provide your child with abundant love and to make the child feel secure in his/her early childhood years is an important task at hand. You know you love the child, but to make the child know that and to make him feel secure as a person is much harder than teaching academic concepts in my opinion. It sometimes fills me with anxiety when B remarks jokingly to me as to how much KB is influenced by my every action. While I sometimes loose my temper and yell at B in the middle of an argument, I see KB absorbing all my tones and inflections. And it later shows up in his own actions in some other instance. It is hard to become a saint as a parent. I console myself that KB has to know me as me and not as some saint that I am not in reality. Anger is as much as part of me as love is. I have to try to be good as much as I tell KB to be good. It is the trying that is even more important than winning or losing. I have to first convince myself of it before I teach KB that. But in all of the trials I go through in raising my children to the best of my ability, I realize how much I am growing in the spirit of the word as a person. They have enriched my life like nothing else has in the past and I pray that I have the courage and will to accept them as they are when they grow up and not set rigid expectations as to who they should become. I feel a sense of gratitude towards destiny for allowing me the privilege of being a parent. It takes being one to know what it means in the truest sense of the word.

The jet lands on...

Australia!

That's our new continents game. I got a "Do it yourself kit" for KB where they have pre cut pieces to assemble a jet plane, race car, bird house etc. It is a lot of fun because he gets to smooth out the wood with sand paper and then paint it and then glue the pieces together to make a jet or race car.

We made the jet yesterday - he had a lot of fun painting it and was quite amused when he mixed (they only had five colors in the kit) blue and yellow and found that it turned green. He woke up this morning and told me about it with the tone of "Did you know, Mamma?".

After KG went to bed, KB and I were playing around with his newly created jet plane. I pretended like it took off and was high up in the air and I turned around and asked him which continent it was going to land on. He said, "North America"! I pretended that the couch was North America and I landed his jet plane on it. But I remembered his continents table mat he had and brought it out. KB really got into the game once I brought this out and then he took over the jet plane. I would say, "Oh, the jet plane is landing in Australia" and he would land the plane there. Then he took a piece of paper and pretended that it was the key to open the jet plane and he then let the people out. He proceeded to say that the people were all tired and needed some coffee. So he turned to the couch and made some coffee after heating some water and adding some coffee powder. (Looks like he only makes black coffee!). I then told him how awesome his coffee was and he said, "People Saptutaa maa coffee'aa" (People finished the coffee). He then went to the pretend sink and dumped their mugs in there. Then the "people" rang the door bell and I welcomed them to Australia and they all apparently had a great time there.

The jet plane took off again and I would say "Antartica" and he would land it in Antartica (on the mat). And he decided it was too cold there and so made them hot chocolate. Juice for those who landed in Africa. A bowl of soup for those who landed in Europe. And a loud welcome to the people who landed in each of these places and great hospitality with all these drinks served as soon as they set foot on the continent!

It was great fun being a part of this make believe world where every thing was so simple and straight forward and there were no lines in between to be read or rifles to be feared. It was a blissful half an hour for me. B returned home from work and KB enacted the whole scene for him with great excitement.

Feeling of home...

It is the Thanksgiving weekend. While Mumbai is dealing with endless hours of terror, we (especially those of us who do not have CNN) are flooded with advertisements for local Black Friday offers. My cousin, her husband and her adorable young daughter were visiting us after many months of failed attempts - random events coming in the way of their plans each time. India's 9/11 on 26/11. We talked about it to each other on the phone. Emailed friends who had relatives in Mumbai. I read news reports and blogs and watched NDTV's coverage late at night while the rest of the family slept. You read and read and read...yet that reality is so far away. You can feel the terror in your bones when you are physically there. But it feels almost farcical to think that I actually feel the terror that the people there in Mumbai felt. Life here goes on as usual. What do you do? Do you not entertain your guests? Do you not let your children enjoy a holiday break? You feel and yet you go on. And that makes you feel like you don't really care. Very unsettling feeling.

Prices slashed big time for plasma screen TVs. It is all over the news. Advertisements bombard us on TV. In all the years that I have lived in America, I had never stepped out on Black Friday for shopping deals. I am not much of a shopper but I had been curious about the Black Friday frenzy always. I was amused by tales of how an Indian neighbor of one of our relatives stormed into some department store to grab the rice cooker that was selling for $5.00 or some such insanely low price but had to contend with another hand placed on the only piece left, a Chinese person who loved rice just as much I suppose. They battled it out and the Indian person had the satisfaction of emerging the winner after experiencing the thrill of the chase when in fact he could have afforded to buy a very expensive rice cooker at full price.

I watched NDTV late into the night. I could not believe my eyes when they were showing this one commando on Nariman house shooting away - I was confused if this was the norm - to show such strategic operations on live TV?! I read blog posts and newspaper articles and went to bed very late at night. I had wanted to get some thing in particular for my cousin's daughter and I knew that I would not have much time during the day to go get it for her without her insisting on coming with me (in which case my cousin would have insisted I not get her one more gift). I knew Kohls was opening it's doors at 4.00 a.m. for Black Friday specials and I thought it would be a good time to go and get it over with before the kids woke up. I woke up at 5.30 a.m. and got ready and drove to Kohls at 6.00 a.m.

My first time going to shop at such an unearthly hour. I could not believe my eyes when I saw the parking lot completely full and I had to go around and around and finally found a spot in the far end of the lot. I walked in and saw that there were no shopping carts or bags available. I didn't need one since I was only going to get some trinkets for my niece. I paused and looked at some, didn't find what I had in mind and decided to walk to the children's section. I got there and saw that people were all standing in line and shopping. Wait, no - they were not shopping. They had finished shopping and were waiting in line to pay. That was the line snaking through three long sides of the store leading to the cash registers. I had never seen anything like this before. And honestly I didn't even think these were any great deals. I instantly decided to return home since it was just not worth standing in such a long line to get a couple of tee shirts or trinkets.

It was early dawn when I was driving back home. It was Shobha De on NPR talking about the Mumbai situation. About how she used to stand outside the Taj hotel when she was a little girl and wonder if she would ever be able to afford even going into that place let alone be married there. And that her daughter was to get married there 10 days from now and that she "absolutely" would go ahead with those plans if the hotel were to be back in business etc. Mumbai on my mind all along. Even as I blankly drove to Kohls and back. But in a strange way so removed from it all. Like there are times when you know someone you love is no more but the reality does not sink in at all because you are so far away from it and just cannot feel it physically. I had that feeling when my cousin passed away from sudden complication from her cancer, a month after my father passed away. My father's demise was very real to me because I saw him physically that way. But my cousin, I still cannot come to grips with that reality. That when I go back home, she will not be there at her lovely home.

I came back home and went upstairs to see what the kids were upto. KB had woken up to go the bathroom and had asked for me and had cried when he saw I was not home. But he calmed down in a minute and was in bed just when I walked in to the room. I did not even wait to change back into my night pants again. I just got into bed and asked KB to come from his little toddler bed and sleep in our bed. KG was asleep in her crib. The room was dark. It was nice and cool. I pulled the comforter over myself and KB and snuggled close to him. He has had a cough for a week now. He coughs mainly as soon as he wakes up or is in the lying down position. I made him sleep in an inclined position on two pillows and rubbed his back. I thought of the little child and her mother who were rescued. I really did feel for them. That kind of terror when you don't know if your child is going to be safe the next minute must be gruesome. I honestly felt a feeling of thanks - to the powers that be - to have the pleasure and privilege of being able to snuggle next to my child and provide him the comfort for a minor cough and feel a sense of home in that moment. I wonder if the terrorists know of such feelings - is it that they were not loved? Why would they do this to innocent people? To innocent children? The world is too complex, the questions too many, answers too few. But that moment felt full and happy and I clutched at it thinking once again about how vulnerable we all are and how people must have been enjoying such moments when terror struck them in Mumbai. I can never comprehend the mind of such terrorists who would be willing to destroy families mercilessly. With such conflicting emotions, I pulled KB closer and prayed for their safety in this cruel world and fell asleep for another half an hour.

Life - stories and games - that's all it is.

I have been out of the blog loop for a while. Partly because after a long time, I have started sitting downstairs either reading the newspaper or magazines or watching TV which I had not done in a very very long time. B and I used to be "Law and Order" junkies but it has been a very long time (probably a year) since we sat down to watch an episode. He falls asleep when he takes KB upstairs to sleep and I don't enjoy watching it alone . I started staying downstairs to watch election related news and some nice PBS specials they had around then. And somehow that again got me started on a little TV watching after every one went upstairs to sleep.

Back to the main story - since this post is all about stories. KB's obsession with "sthories" (as he says it) is something I wanted to write about. Everything to him is either a game or a story. He goes to bed every night listening to a story - title suggested either by him or by me. And wakes up and tells me the story he heard the previous night. (This morning he told me "The Deicer" story). And during the day he makes me tell so many stories that I am beginning to forget where reality begins or ends. For ex, I was driving back with KB after doing some grocery shopping. On the way, we saw a young teenager being given a ticket by the cop. I told KB casually that that "Anna" was being given a ticket because he drove past a red light. (I just checked the recording and remembered what I told him!). KB pauses to think and immediately says, "Sollu maa, Andha Anna story sollu maa". And then the prompting (from KB) starts.

Me: Andha Anna drive panninde irundhan. (That "Anna" was driving). Suddenly he drove past a red light, traffic vandhundrukkarcheye (he beat the red light even when there was so much traffic). Police officer andha corner'lendhu pathundhar (police officer was looking from the corner). He turned on his car lights and came behind Anna's car.

KB: Appram Anna?

Me: Appram Anna ange poi car'aa niruthitu police officer'ku wait pannan (he waited for the police officer)

KB: Police officer sonnar Anna kitte?

Me: Police officer sonnar Anna kitte," WHY did you drive like that? You know you can ram into the other cars if you do that. You know you are not supposed to do that", appdintu kochindar. (PO got mad at Anna).

KB: Udne Anna sonnan police officer kitte?

Me: Anna Sonnan, "Sorry police officer, naa inme indha maari panna maatein (won't do it again), I will be careful. I didn't realize I was driving so fast"

KB: Police officer sonnar...

Me: Police officer sonnar, I am going to give you a ticket. I will let you go this one time. But if you do it again, I will be very upset".

KB: Appram, Anna?

Me: Anna OK sollitu, car'le yerindu chamatha careful'aa drive pannindu ponan! That's it. That's the end of the police officer and Anna story. (Anna got into the car and like a good boy he drove away carefully).

You can imagine many many such incidents that happen every day. Each one is a story. My cousin and her family and my mami were visiting us for a week. We went to a farm where the four kids were playing on a hay stack. One of them scraped his leg while jumping from a tall one. And there it was - the story of that evening. And that night KB's bed time story was "The litte boy and the hay stack". We go to the beach and on the way to the parking lot, KB sees a man changing the tire in his pick up truck. All along the drive back, KB asked me to tell him the story of "The repair truck". I went to visit a friend today and her son cried saying his finger hurt and she looked at it and said that some thing might have poked him. So on the drive back it was the story of why the kutti boy cried.

If KB is sitting at his little table and painting he says, "Mamma, naa painting game vladinkein maa" (am playing painting game). If he is doing some tracing of letters he says, "Mamma I am playing tracing game ma". He sings some random tune and I sing along with him he says "Singing game vladlam maa" (Let's play singing game). If he and KG pass something like a juice carton to each other when they are sitting in their car seats, he says "Passing game vladrom maa".

I wish I could keep life this simple. What ever happens around me, it's a story that I am witnessing. What ever work I do, it's a game I am playing!

There is so much I think of writing about the things they do, but I just don't get to it. I thought I should at least write down about this "story" phase that KB is going through so I don't entirely forget this a year from now. This was a kid I used to worry as to why he only liked lift the flap type books and not story books. Now every picture he sees in either the magazine or the newspaper is a story, every random thing he sees as we drive by is a story and this is apart from the stories he actually reads in books and stories we make up for him at bed time. I managed to record a mini session with him reciting some stories. Including "Malia and Sasha get a puppy dog" where "Obama Uncle" goes to the animal shelter and gets them a Black dog with white spots and they all take a plane and go to the White house!.

He dreams of stories too I think. He stirred in his sleep (the restless sleeper that he is) and when I patted him, he said, "Fire story sollu maa" because he saw an Olympic torch like thing on the roof of a restaurant that evening before he went to bed. When I mentioned the word flame in that story, he said, "Yen throat'la kooda flame irukku". And I thought to myself, "Wow, he has a sore throat and he says his throat is in flames?". I was totally puzzled. Until I talked to B and discovered that B had told him the story of how B has a sore throat too and how the phlegm (which KB thought was the same as flame) made his throat ache.

If any of you want story ideas, feel free to email me, I will come up with random gibberish stories for you since I have stories coming out of my ears!

Good night!

And thus we decide who will lead the nation!

The much anticipated Election day is here. In an hour or so (by the time you read this for sure), it will be close to "prediction" time. And then the exact numbers. The winner at hand. Who will make the first announcement? Will they bungle it up like they did in 2000? No, I guess not.

I went to vote this morning - I had considered early voting or vote by mail but decided to just go to the polling booth. I had actually wanted to take KB along - but practical issues made me decide against it. I had to be there before the place opened to make sure I was back home before B left for work. KB was asleep then. And despite going before the polling place opened, there was a long line - but thankfully it moved quickly and I was back home in about 45 minutes.

It was exciting to vote especially when the whole nation is so excited about having the power to elect their president. Somehow, this time around you can feel the pulse of the nation as it comes together to choose its leader. Even in my family this time around, my nephew has been writing blogs and working non stop campaigning and making calls to voters. Two of my sisters have been volunteering at the campaign booths and all of us siblings have been having so many email discussions and arguments about all this. In a strange way, after having children who are born citizens of this country, I feel a greater sense of belonging here and a greater eagerness to be part of the voting process. I am hoping that by the time the next election comes around, the kids will be more independent and I can actually get involved a lot more and volunteer some time and effort towards all this.

I am sure some of my dear blog pals can guess who I voted for. But in honor of my dad who never used to tell us who he voted for, just for kicks, I too will leave it to guessing.

Waiting for the headlines to strike!

Power to the people!