Welcome Winter

Last week was all about cookies and cakes and pumpkin and pasta and carrots and beans and bread and chocolate wine and chocolates and friends (more like family) and cold weather and snow and shopping and Vancouver and lights and aquarium and good company and tired kids at the end of the weekend.

Need I say more. 

The week was made. Thankful. So very thankful. For everything that we have and everything that we don’t have. But mostly, for all the people in our lives. Our people are our pridest non-possession possession.  

There are many reasons why I like the holiday season. I can be very repetitive when it comes to the holiday season. But I can’t help it because it brings out the child in me that likes repetition. You know. How kids can hear the same story over and over again and don't seem to get bored of it. At all. Kind of like that. You can keep talking to me about the holiday season and I will be happy to listen to it till the eternity. 

Anyway. Like I said. Many reasons why I like this season. Here are some.

It brings people together. My favorite part, but of course.

It calls for baking. Lots and lots of it. Bake sweet. Bake savory. Bake it all. Plus the warm oven keeps the house a tad bit warmer. 

It means exceptionally good food. Don’t even get me started on this topic. It starts with Diwali and it ends with the new year. With Halloween and Thanksgiving and Christmas sandwiched in between. What a layer of yummies it is.  

It lets us bring the cozy out. The blankets. The hot coffee. Nice and fuzzy. By the way, Sammy likes pulling her blanket out and she says “I want to be cozy.” My girl. 

I can officially go to the grocery store in my PJs on the Thanksgiving day. Because, come on. Everyone understands that we need to do last-minute super-efficient shopping run on the day of. And christmas colored jammys are totally acceptable and people cannot judge you for that. Mostly.

The snow. If and when it happens. I like that it makes everything spotless, at least for sometime. I also like that it reflects all the light back. Shiny.  

Rehan and Samaira can run around a huge Christmas tree. A giant Christmas tree can make all the fancy or non-fancy toys useless. Why use toys when you can simply run around and chase your sibling. Plus it gives them one more place to hide when playing hide and seek with each other.

It can sometimes result in power outages. And you may or may not already know how I feel about power outages. I think they are great.

It gives me more food for thought when telling made up stories to the kids.

It makes me miss my parents, my siblings, my nieces - my family - even more. One could wonder how missing someone is a good thing. I wonder too. I definitely wish I was closer to them than far. But it is just a constant reminder of my fondness for these special people in my life. And that, I am happy about. 

It means lots and lots of lights. Inside people’s homes. Outside. The light that reflects from the snow on the ground. Everywhere.

We can layer up, take a walk around, peek into people’s windows from far to see their well decorated and well lit Christmas trees. This peeking part may make me sound a little creepy. But I promise I am very inconspicuous when peeking into other people’s homes. I am sure no-one even notices that I am doing so.

The list of why I like this season is somewhat endless. But this attempt at articulating it crystalizes it even more in my head. It reminds me of everything that I am thankful for. Everything that I am so fond of. 

Now, here we are. Venturing into December. Last month of the year that makes my heart skip a beat. Just because of how gorgeous it is. All the reds and the golds and the greens and the whites come together to form a perfect magical kingdom. It feels like a fairytale waiting to be told. When comes a time of the year that acts as an unstoppable force and gets people in celebratory mode, just embrace it. Hang on to it. For as long as possible. Because it will pass. And then we will want more of the same. But there will be other seasons to welcome, other reasons to celebrate. 

So hold on to this polar express as tight as you can. It will make this winter warm for us all. 

Poking.
If only, they could keep their hats longer than 5 seconds.

My Positivity

Kids were home most of last week because of day care closing, holidays, et al. It felt like they had suddenly grown up or something. They spent a long time just playing, interacting, fighting with each other. They did not come to us to get entertained. 

Samira likes reading books for Rehan. She opens her book and says “Where is ball, buddy? Can you point at the ball?” She then turns the book toward Rehan for him to point. Rehan points at something in the book. Sammy takes a closer look and says “Thtat’s right, buddy!”  This exact sequence of events tends to repeat several times in a day.

This other time, Rehan grabbed a box of crackers (somehow) and took it to Sammy. He gave the box to Sammy and said “kackers.” Sammy, obviously, in her big sisterly fashion said “Do you want crackers buddy? Sit down. Right here.” She then handed out a cracker to Rehan and ate one herself. They sat together and finished the box of crackers. The entire time, the look on their faces was like they were conspiring to do something. They clearly did.

This. Right here. Will be my positivity. Forever.  

I am happy

Some people have a genuine face, some do not. Some people are genuine, some are not. But when it comes to kids, it is safe to assume that they are as genuine as they look and sound. Think of all the good adjectives that are like ‘genuine’ and you can pretty much use any of them to describe kids - honest, innocent, true, authentic, and so on. Anyone with kids can vouch for the fact that these little cookies are fully capable of shocking us with the how much they can comprehend and digest and reflect. 

My nieces, our friends’ kids, my Sammy & Rehan - they never cease to amaze us with the amount they understand. With or without words.

Just the other day, the four of us were having dinner and suddenly Sammy announces “I am happy.” At first Siddharth and I stared at each other with the expression of “Is she for real? Did she just say that?” And then Sammy repeated “I am very happy.” There are some meaning-of-life moments and this was one such moment for me. The simple act of having dinner together coupled with giggles for no good reason was enough for my almost three year old to realize and tell us that she is happy. 

The evening dance routine is quintessential to Sammy and Rehan. Sammy brings my phone before bed time and says “I want music.” Every night. Without fail. When we play music, both the kids scream with joy ‘Yeeaahhhh.’  I can see how happy they are.

Siddharth and I went together to pick up the kids at the day care today. Rehan detests sitting in the car seat from the bottom of his heart. And he does not hesitate to make it very clear to us. So he sat in the car seat and started screaming at the top of his voice. Sammy, in her typical big sister fashion asked him “What happened buddy? Are you ok buddy?” We started singing rhymes and songs. Nothing worked. Probably because we were not louder than his screaming cry. Sammy looked at him and she was on the brink of crying. Then we played their favorite song in the car and as soon as the music started, they both were silent. In the next 30 seconds, they went to smiling. And in the next 30 seconds, they went to giggling. Siddharth and I felt very guilty and said “We are bad parents…we had to resort to the media to get our kid to stop crying.” But we very conveniently and quickly got over the guilt when Sammy and Rehan were giggling. We even waited in Walgreens’ prescription drive-through line for about 20 minutes waiting to pick up a prescription. They survived that 20 minute wait with the help of this music. And Sammy announced, “Happy. I am happy.” Sitting in the car. Waiting for 20 minutes in a drive through line. And these kids are happy. Obviously. They have everything they need. Music. Each other. Us. Anticipation of some yummy-yummy in their tummy. Clean diapers. What else do we need?

Such times are the hence-proved moments of the fact that you don't need much in life to be happy. It is the small little things that touch your heart and make the rest of your body & people around you so very happy. 

This thought is not intended to crush aspiration and ambition by any means. We all aspire. We have ambitions. It is what drives us. It is what gives us purpose. Sometimes, it is what gives us meaning. And it is great. To have aspirations and ambitions. To have that thing that makes you wake up every morning with an instinct to conquer the world. To make the day yours. To do the right thing. But while we are on this mission and purpose to make our and others’ lives better, there will be small little moments that are absolutely intended to take your breath away. Allow your breath to be taken away. Allow yourself to be in awe of such moments because while you are on your journey to find the purpose in your life, these small junctions will fuel your engine and give you the horsepower you didn't think you had. 

Most of us get there. To the point at which we realize there is more to life than the obvious. A lot of times that happens through a medium. Kids. Dogs. Paintings. Food. Milestones. Loss. Anything. A medium. But we all get there eventually. Sooner or later. And that is awesome. In a world that is far from perfect, knowing that we will all understand what happy is all about, is powerful. It reinstates my faith in all that is good. All that works.

So when Sammy wakes up in the morning and we hear her on the baby monitor say “Rehaaaaan. Wake up buddy.” And when we rush to get her from her room so she does not wake Rehan up. And when 5 minutes later we realize that Rehan woke up anyway as he walks into our room, standing next to our bed, staring at us, trying to reach for us, waiting to be picked up by us. I know it is all cool. Because the next 15 minutes of the four of us goofing in the bed is happy. It makes Sammy and Rehan happy. It makes us happy to the moon and back. 

In Sammy’s words “I am very very happy.” 

We got this. Finding happy in this crazy, imperfect, sometimes nonsensical world. We have a hypothetical yet valuable Master’s degree in that. 

Carlin Ma Photography

My Positivity

Rehan has started saying more and more and he just got the cutest of the lot. He started saying Sammy’s name. He calls her “Tammy.”  When I pick Rehan up at day care and he doesn't see Sammy, he runs out of his class room shouting "Tammy". When I ask him where Sammy is, he points to her classroom and runs to the door to get her.

Ah. My breath away! 

Entitlement

My siblings and I grew up in a very humble and loving environment. My parents loved the three of us like crazy. We never felt like they loved one of us more than the other. Even though the three of us are very different people. We give and receive love very differently. But my parents never let that affect how they loved us. It was equal love. Always. I talk so much about love because that is probably the most prominent sentiment, thing, object, or, artifact I remember from my childhood. We were a typical middle class family growing up. We ate good food at home. We indulged in sweets/chocolates, maybe, once a month. Sometimes once in two months. And whenever we did, it was such a treat. We ate out, maybe, once in 1-2 months. We did not grow up drinking soda. I don’t remember ever bringing soda into our home. We only had it when we ate out, if at all. We received new clothes on our birthdays and all major Indian festivals. It was our thing. We celebrated all Indian festivals in all their glory. I still hold on to those memories very dearly. I continue to celebrate some of the important festivals even today. Not for their religious significance, because most Indian festivals do have some sort of religious background behind it, but for my childhood memories. I valued every thing we purchased - toys, stationary, outfits, shoes, bike, school bags. Everything. I did not take these things for granted. I felt like I had a sufficient amount of everything I needed. But not excess.

Contrasting that with how we are today. I buy clothes, shoes, sweets, soda, stuff in general - without giving it a second thought. I buy things when I think I like something. I don’t think I am extravagant or careless. I am always looking for something new. For myself. For the kids. Sometimes for Siddharth. I am very careful when I buy something for Siddhu because buying something for him totally stresses him out and he questions the new purchase till eternity. According to him, he never needs anything new. Pretty much ever. Anyway. The point is, I do this thing. My kids are growing up in an environment in which they get clothes, shoes, toys, gifts, goodies, everything - anytime, all the time, on no special occasion. We have a room full of toys, a closet full of clothes, a stand full of shoes, a pantry full of snacks and food. I was a little hesitant in writing this post. Because I did not want to sound braggy. By no means is this a brag. Definitely not a brag. In fact there is a little hint of feeling what-am-I-doing-with-all-this involved in this.

The point is also not that former is better than the latter. It is not that I promote living with less, or sufficient or more.

But I wonder. I wonder, how best to provide an environment where my kids appreciate what they have, and know that they will have to work very hard to get most things in life. How do we teach them to not take things for granted? How do we tell them that abundance is not the norm. It is an exception. And that we need to value things that we have. We have to earn everything in life. And in spite of that we may not get everything we worked for. Because life isn’t always fair. I am not really sure where I am going with all this. But I am just hoping Samaira and Rehan will not develop a sense of entitlement. As of right now, I don't know how I will prevent that from happening. I don’t know how I will inculcate gratitude and wonderment for things. I really want them to be able to appreciate what they have. Not take it for granted. Work hard for every new thing they want.

I want to make sure we are raising kids minus the entitlement. And if they ever fall into the trap of the evil-entitlement, then how do we bring them back? I am fully aware of how little we can control and govern what our kids will do, or be like, or  aspire to be, or dream of. We come with our own destiny. We write and re-write our own destiny. Samira and Rehan will own their actions, reactions, destiny and paths. But a sense of entitlement is not something I want to impart to them. So, God help me in doing the right thing. And if anyone, ever, has any ideas - please let me know. I need to know. I need to do. Do the right thing. In this one case for sure.

Minus the entitlement.

My Positivity

Earlier this week, Siddharth thought it is a good idea to have a dance off with kids before going to bed every night. Until they are totally tired. They kind of dig this routine now. The four of us dance to the latest Hindi songs for 15-20 min every night before hitting the bed. After our dance offs, kids pretty much walk to their beds on their own and are happy to fall asleep. Hubs' idea is a genius. My favorite part is Sammy asking for it on her own now. For the last two nights, after we have changed the kids into their jammies, Sammy says “I want to dance.” Oh well. So we dance. Mostly jump. Or run after each other.

Thankful. For the husband. For the daughter. For the son. Who are full time entertainment. They plaster a smile on my face. Most of the times, anyway.

That Middle

“Everything is fine in the end. If it is not fine, it is not the end.”

I came across this phrase over a decade ago and it has since then stuck with me. I am impressed with both, the idea and the optimism, in this phrase. The possibility of eternity in the hope for that perfect ending is quite wistful. On face value, it seems like the mental place to be, the thought to hold on to, the wish to wish for.

It is only recently that I have started to look beyond the face value of this favorite quote of mine. The more I think about it, the more I realize the futility of overly sticking to it. The underlying mentality revealed in this simple expression highlights a certain affinity to the destination. To the goal. I do think that this affinity is much needed for our effective existence in this corporal world. But I have also noticed how I tend overlook the essence of the tiny little moments while I am on my way, very focused toward that destination.

We meticulously plan our first impression so that it is as perfect as it is memorable. We careful strategize our perfect ending so it is as perfect as it will be happy. The beginning and the end tend to be so important that “the middle” is all about “how to get there” as opposed to just “being in the middle.” I know middle doesn’t sound half as fancy as the beginning or the end. But the fact is that we spend most of our time in the middle. So treating middle as a means to an end, as opposed to a whole entity in and of itself, is a tad bit unfair.

I have a strong feeling that I, for one, will be much happier if I didn’t worry as much about the perfect beginning or the perfect ending, and instead focused on the middle. I didn’t use the word “perfect” to describe “middle” because it isn’t about the middle being perfect. It is about us being present while in the middle of something. It could be perfect. It could be imperfect. It could be terrible for all we know. But it is about being there. In the middle.

Talking about middle may seem rather pointless. But given the amount of time we spend in the middle, it doesn’t only make philosophical and emotional sense, but also logical and mathematical sense. It is directly proportional to the amount of time we spend in a specific phase. Being present in the middle will optimize our satisfaction and happiness curve just because we decide to be a little bit more present in the middle. Kind of cool, it is.

I am writing about it just today, but I have been thinking about this slightly obscure concept for the last several months now. I have pondered over my need to start things well and my obsession for the destination, but have somewhat struggled with understanding what “being present in the middle” even means for me. I feel like figuring this out would be like cracking the code of life for me. My hypothesis is that there is an objective definition for “being present in the middle” that means the same things for anyone and everyone. Even if it is applied to very different situations. For my situation, it could mean certain specific things.

Like -

Enjoying the process of cooking as much as I enjoy eating.

Enjoying the process of quilting as much as I enjoy the warmth of the quilt.

Enjoying the process of putting kids to sleep as I enjoy falling asleep myself afterward. This one is a little hard, especially when I am drop dead tired. But there is something to be said about enjoying the mischief and cuteness that emerges from Samaira and Rehan as we get closer to bed times.

Enjoying a workout as much as I feel relieved when it is done.

Enjoying a drive as much as I enjoy getting to my destination.

So this is what it may mean for me. I think. I am still figuring it out. Don’t have it nailed yet. It might take a while before I nail it. But in the meantime, I am going to enjoy the process of getting there. Enjoying its imperfections, its frustrations, its joys, its achievements, its sadness, the whole jabang. That Middle. I am going to get you some day.

...A part of my middle...that was easy :)

My Positivity

 

This week had way too many. But I will stick to two.

I made my first quilt.

 

I took my first photography class. Friends, Family - you have been warned. I might bug you forever and ever.

 

                                                                                                                                                             

Maybe

Sammy and Rehan have a story book called Zen Shorts. One of the stories in that book is about an old farmer who has a son and a horse. One day, his horse runs away and his neighbors come to console him saying “this was too bad.” The farmer responds with “maybe.” The next day his horse comes back with another horse and the neighbors say “this is great.” The farmer responds with “maybe.” The next day the farmer’s son was riding the new untamed horse and he fell down and broke his leg. The neighbors said “this was too bad.” The farmer said “maybe.” The next day army folks came into the farmer’s village to draft soldiers. They did not select the farmer’s son because his leg was broken. The neighbors told the farmer “this was great.” Farmer again responded saying “maybe.” The moral of the story is that you never know what is going to happen next and it is always good to stay humble in your ups and downs. While I don’t endorse being a saint by any means, I think there is strong merit in this philosophy. To not be overly affected by the good and the bad. The philosophy to be calm and humble through extreme successes and extreme failures. As much as humanly possible anyway.  

Now here is the ironical part. I was thinking of writing on this topic last week. But I decided to swap the topic literally as I started to type and wrote on something else last week, pushing this topic to now. It is ironical because little did I know that it will come in quite handy for me this week. My company announced a bunch of lay-offs and my position was eliminated as a part of it mid last week. I asked them exactly two questions. The first question was if I was the only one being eliminated that day or if there were others. I normally hate to be singled out, even if it is for a good reason, so definitely not for something like a lay-off. They obviously could not comment on my question for legal reasons, but I later learned that there were more jobs cut the same day. Phew. Relief. My second question was obviously about where and when to return my laptop, badge, etc. I did not have any other clarifying question. While it is always better to dump than be dumped, I handled it quite well, I think. It seemed like quite devastating news on the face value, but it didn’t hit me like one. I did confuse myself at first, but I figured that maybe because I wasn’t too attached to what I was doing. I am still trying to find my calling. The point is I am a silver lining person. Maybe a little too much for my own good. So something like this made me a little sad for some time, but then it made me very happy shortly after. Maybe because I didn’t think this was that bad a thing. Or maybe because I thought something better is in store for me. For now that ‘something better’ involves sleeping a whole lot, shopping, making baby quilts, working out, writing, and maybe more shopping. I am definitely not complaining. I haven’t not worked in the last 10 years, but this took me no time at all to get used to. So I might actually continue to do this for at least the next several weeks, if not months. That is my no-plan plan, and I am kind of digging it.

Here is another interesting thing about this whole experience. I got the news of my lay off on Wednesday morning. I picked up my belongings and left the building within 5 minutes because I did not want to spend any more time there. I am a little impulsive and not at all practical that way. I came home and cooked something, folded the laundry, had lunch with Siddhu, and cleaned the house a little. And then it was time to pick up the kids from the day care. The routine was just the usual once the kids came home. They were running around, screaming, playing, hungry, fighting, reading, drawing, and creating a mess. Nothing out of ordinary. It sort of puts things in perspective. About what is really important in life. It could be different things for different people. And I know what it is for me. It is my family. Funny enough, Siddhu, My bro\Amz (wifey) & my sis\Sudh (hubby) were all rather happy to hear about my news. Kind of weird, but they were. My mom was a little upset, but she is an overly emotional being. So it was just fascinating to see what my family brought to the table and it was quite a spectacular combo, I must say.

So maybe, bad isn’t that bad. Maybe, good isn’t that good. The point is not to highlight this as a grim reality or even boast about a positive attitude, but to highlight what is truly important. Highlight the game of perspective, yet again.



Throw back Monday - because I can. But more importantly - because there is sun, there is family, and there is all things important.

My Positivity

Normally we are not that big into Halloween. We are not that creative or crazy about it. We do stuff because we have kids and because we have company. We never took Sammy & Rehan for trick or treating so far. But we did this year. Rehan definitely enjoyed the idea of grabbing candies and putting them in his stash. Sammy wasn’t terribly thrilled, but maybe she will be next year. I was super thrilled that we took our kids for trick or treat first time ever. Hung out with awesome people. Ate fabulous food. And had fun while at it. What more could one ask for? And just in case you were wondering, Sammy dressed as a University of Washington cheerleader & Rehan dressed as a homeless guy.

We Share

For once, I was responsible. It almost never happens. In fact I don’t remember the last time it did. But I was sick for most of last week. So much so that I had difficulty breathing and sleeping on multiple days and nights. I finally started feeling a little better toward the second half of the week. A couple days into my sickness, Sammy got sick. She got croup. At first we tried to handle the situation like pros. Oh, she has fever. That’s alright. We can handle it. Who needs a doctor anyway? And then her voice got all horsy. We instantly figured it was croup. So we started researching causes, symptoms, and cure. We were being the google-doctor. You know. Humidifiers, hot showers (for Sammy :)), and driving-with-window-slightly-open were our best friends. But when her breathing got worse, we thought it was time. It was time for us to quit pretending to be pros and to make a run to the pediatrician.  

So last Thursday we took Sammy to a doctor. This doctor was an almost 80 year old, affectionate, likeable, almost lovable man. So endearing. I almost had a crush on him. Anyway. That’s beside the point. Siddharth reached the clinic with Sammy and I showed up about 15 minutes later. The doctor had already gone through one round of counseling with Siddharth. Humidifiers. Hot showers. Driving-with-window-slightly-open. The usual suspects. When I walked in, the doctor said “I will give you time to catch up with your husband and will come back in a few minutes to answer any of your questions.” Siddharth explained everything the doctor told me and I immediately exclaimed, “This is exactly what I read online.” The doctor walked in after some time and Siddharth told him that I had read the exact same things online. To which he jokingly responded “Then I must be doing something right…if I am saying the same thing as the internet.” I did feel slightly embarrassed. Knowing very well how the medical community must detest the google-doctors. Anyway. Since Sammy wasn’t feeling well, I held her close to my chest in a sitting position so she could breathe better. As the doctor was leaving the room he said “So now you know what to do.” I said, “Yes. We do. In addition to that, we need to keep Sammy away from Rehan so he doesn’t get croup.” Honestly, I said this only to sound like an obedient mom of a sick patient, trying to please the doctor. Especially, in an attempt to recover from the previous embarrassment. The doctor responded by saying “You can’t. Don’t even try it.” In my head I was going “Are you for real !? You are the coolest doctor ever!” But in reality, I think, the only words that left my mouth were “What?!” In my head I was going like “Aren’t you a doctor? Aren’t you supposed to advise us against letting Sammy and Rehan transfer germs to each other, and other people?” In reality, all I asked was “Why ?!” The doctor said “There is a reason why your husband and you have caught most colds in the last three years than you have in your entire lifetime put together.” He is right. We have. He continued, “That is because you model sharing for your kids. You teach them to share by example. You share your things. Sharing sickness is an integral part of sharing. So don’t bother trying to keep your son away from your daughter. They will get close to each other. Let them. That’s how it should be.”

On one hand, there is nothing profound about it this incidence. But the more I thought about, the more I was simply blown away by this powerful thought of sharing. We keep telling our kids to share. Sometimes in the most unnatural circumstances possible. In circumstances that we as adults may shy away from sharing. We ask our kids to share their toys, their books, their food, in the middle of them using whatever it is that they are using. But what this doctor reminded me is that the way our kids will actually learn to share is by seeing us share things with each other. It will not be by us telling them to share. So the moral of this long windy story is not just that old wise doctors is the way to go, but also a reminder that sharing is what we do as a family. Knowingly or unknowingly. Every single day. For things that are desirable, and for the things that aren’t. For the things that need it, and for the things that don’t. For the things that are tangible, and for the things that aren’t. We share our thoughts, our actions, our insecurities, our passions, our loves, our fights, our visions, our lives. It is extremely, and insanely fulfilling.

So yeah. We share. We all do. It is kind of awesome.

I don't know if he wants to share. I don't know if she is giving or taking. But they are sharing :).

My Positivity
 

Nostalgia. We had a massive power outage in the Greater Seattle area over the weekend. While it sounds pretty grim, it has its upsides. If the power outage goes for long enough, then your (smart) phones will stop working. You TV will stop working. You laptop will stop working. Your music will stop working. You internet will stop working. Your cable will stop working. Life, as we know it today, will halt. While the power outage over this weekend didn’t last that long, it did remind me of a time almost 10 years ago. We had power outage for multiple days that year. And everything stopped working. Smart phones were not as pervasive then but there was still the internet, cable, TV, etc. When everything stopped working, after some time of lamenting, we were forced to connect, talk, and interact at a much deeper level. So this power outage over the weekend reminded me of 10 years ago. Those were some sweet happy memories.

And, Happy Diwali :).

R-Word. Stop.

I thought quite a bit before writing on this topic. There are several reasons why I have felt the need to be less particular about the use of this word. The fact that I myself used this word not too long ago without giving it a second thought. The fact that a lot of people who use it mean no harm. The fact that most people use it in their daily lives to indicate humor, more than a negative intent.

But something changed it. And I decided to write about it.

This year’s Buddy Walk was A-M-A-Z-I-N-G. I love it when people show up to support us, our kids, our community. I respect it when they change whatever they had planned for their day to join us. I understand it supports us and Samaira. And I also understand it broadens the horizon of every single person who attends the Walk. Being amongst incredible people who are truly inspiring and people who show us that a diagnosis does not determine the things that you can achieve, is special, to say the least. So, yeah. I love the Buddy Walk. Everything about it is incredible and extremely close to my heart. This year, as we were almost done with the walk and were about to go home, we were approached by a beautiful young girl, maybe in her teens. She asked if Samaira has down syndrome and we said “yes.” She asked us if we like the R-word, and we immediately responded “absolutely not.” She then said “I don’t like it either.” That. Right there. Changed my opinion. On whether or not I wanted to write on this topic. It doesn’t matter if it was a part of my vocabulary before. It doesn’t matter if it is a part of other people’s vocabulary now. It doesn’t matter if the intent behind this word is harmless most of the times. When that young girl told us “I don’t like it either,” something stirred inside me to say “spread the word.” I thought someday, it could be Sammy in her shoes. Or it could be Rehan. Detesting the word because they will be called so. And it will hurt them. And it will hurt me.

So here. For a very selfish reason. I have decided to talk about this word. And why it hurts. And why we shouldn’t use it. And why it is absolutely not ok to use this word.

There are things that we do. There are things that we don’t do. And then there are things that we absolutely must never ever do. Use of R-word is one such thing that we absolutely must not do. At first it seems like a harmless, innocuous thing to do. People say it with an air of funny attached to it. In most cases I rank intent over impact. But in this case, I can’t. It doesn’t frikkin’ matter what your intent was. It absolutely does not.

Your impact matters.

You can read more about the campaign to “Spread The Word To End The Word” here.

Having a conversation to raise awareness about this word may sometimes be tricky or difficult. But the best way to do it is to indicate that the use of R-word is not ok, especially when used as a synonym for idiot. This word has been used for people with intellectual disabilities for long enough that even when you are not using the word in that context, it actually demeans a whole bunch of people without you even knowing about it. It is therefore not just a figure of speech. It goes beyond that. Trying to look for a word to replace the R-word in your dictionary will be a good start to show respect to a huge community that truly deserves it. 

Words can hurt you. Words are not harmless even if we wish to pretend they are. So it is never too late to begin. I figured why not spread the word because it will shape the society and the culture that my kids will grow up in. It will impact the people who will be their friends and companions. So why not take this step to help people understand the gravity of this word they take for granted. This word should be erased from our minds. Our vocabularies. The Oxford dictionary. Whatever you may. Let us stop our kids, our neighbors, our family, our friends, our colleagues, our community – everyone – from using this word. Please.

My Positivity
 

I have broken out of my shell and decided to talk about the R-word. I had hesitated so long thinking that maybe I am extra sensitive about it now. But it is no big deal when people don’t actually mean any harm. I tried to convince myself that going mainstream about it will somehow mitigate the impact of this word because there is something to be said about giving people the benefit of doubt. It can’t be that bad. Getting over my denial phase about this word. Realizing how truly negative it is. That is my positivity. I feel liberated in a very strange, incomprehensible way. It feels good.

Stereotypes: No thank you, please.

“All the girls in one team and all the guys in the other team.” It is one of the phrases that annoys me a lot. Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against being in an all girls’ team. That is never the problem. I love girls’ night and girls’ girl and girls’ team and man's man. But my problem is always sorting on the basis of gender. This might get very controversial very fast. There are a lot of places where gender based divisions make sense. Like in case of public restrooms. But for some other things, it seems like an unnecessary rule that people impose just because. And that bothers me.

 I am also not a fan of the typical husband-wife or boyfriend-girlfriend jokes. They thrive on generalizations and stereotypes.

And don’t even get me started on statements that start with “we men…” or “you women…”

I don’t know what it is about these generalizations that bothers me so much. I can’t point my finger at it. Especially because I am all for girl power. But something about these broad strokes bothers me enough to complain about it louder and clearer each time I do talk about it.

The problem with generalizations is that it takes away from what truly deserves to be acknowledged. It is like if I do well at something, and somebody responds to me by saying “Of course you did well. I expected nothing less from you. What else could be the outcome.” While I understand the positive sentiment behind these statements, these positive & well-intended statements actually manage to take away from the part you played in your little victory.

We hear a lot of generalizations regarding boys & men. “Real men don’t cry” or “be a man” or anything that says that boys and men are a certain way. Except that it isn’t true. Men cry, just like women can be feisty. I understand the difference in physiology, anatomy, muscle mass, etc. of men versus women. I don’t deny facts. I don’t argue with science. But I get annoyed by incorrect notions that society puts on top of all the physiological and scientific facts. I hope my boy has the ability to cry (what kind of mum wishes this for her son…well my kind...I think crying is great and it does wonders for your system). Going by what he does today, he has ample ability to cry. Granted he is barely an 18 month old toddler. My point, Sir, is that real men do cry.

We hear a lot of such generalizations regarding down syndrome. “They are such sweet people.” “They are all very loving.” “They are emotionally very intelligent.” “They are all very nice people.” Except when they aren’t. Even if every single person with down syndrome that you have ever met fits in these buckets, such generalizations tend to take so much away from the person. Generalizing these qualities make people a number. A statistic. And what fun is that?! It isn’t any fun at all. I used to be ok with it. But as Samaira’s personality is developing, and she is turning out to be a hugger and a high EQ person, I can’t help but wonder at the person she is & the personality she has. I would hate to think that these awesome qualities that she has in her are attributed to her having down syndrome. Doesn’t make any sense, right? I would much rather give her the credit for who she is and what she will become.

Something about generalizations is very unfair. It takes away from the person and the personality. It gives less credit to who you are. It gives more credit to the unnecessary hearsay. If I ever do it, I try to pull myself back really hard. If I repeat it I try to remind myself in the strictest voice possible. This is one of the few (or many) things that is somewhat unacceptable to me. Let us see people, places and things for who\what they are, and not what they are expected to be.

Science is ok. Facts are ok. Traditions are ok. Humor is ok, most of the times. Emotions are ok. Liking is ok. Disliking is ok. Preferences are ok.

But.

Stereotypes – no thank you, please.

 

Kids are confused about us taking their picture, again

My Positivity

The return of fall. I am beginning to see brown, yellow and orange leaves. It makes me feel like I am in a movie .

This month.

October is the down syndrome awareness month. While we don’t wait for this month to celebrate Samaira, or talk about her, we do take this opportunity to inform other people who may not know as much about this extra chromosome.

The best way to spread awareness and dispel myths about down syndrome is to let people know what we know. So far anyway. So here is what we know.

Sammy will be 3 very soon.

She is the most talkative toddler I have seen. We may not understand everything she says, but she is definitely having meaningful conversations most of the times.

Sammy has always had some level of sleep apnea. She got a tonsillectomy earlier this year to help her breath better, and the surgery did help her a lot.

Her favorite kind of play these days is pretend play. She will pick up her teddy bear or another toy and have conversations “teddy bear – you hungry? I give you milk. Teddy bear sleepy? I put teddy to sleep. Teddy bear wants a hug daddy!” You get the idea.

Sammy has three therapy sessions a week: speech, physical and special education/social. Most of these sessions are held at her day care.

Sammy knows we don’t like her doing certain things. We don’t want her to throw spoons and plates and food off the table. We don’t want her to pull anyone’s hair. So, she will do just that. And before we can respond in anyway, she responds “Sammy, don’t do that. It’s not ok.” At this point, we typically don’t know if we should feel good or bad. Hearing Sammy say those words is like listening to ourselves. It is a reminder of how kids pick up on the tiniest of the things we say and we do have to watch our words very carefully.

Sammy really cares for Rehan. And vice versa. While she pushes and pulls him all day long, she is very particular about ending all her fights with a hug and a simple “I love you, Rehan.”

Sammy has a hole in her heart. We will find out in a year or so if she needs a surgery to close it.

She loves listening to and singing rhymes and songs. All. Day. Long. Not that I am complaining. Her non-crying sound is like soft music to my ears.

The first words to come out of her mouth as soon as she wakes up in the morning are "ooohh…. whaaat is that?” Pointing at specifically nothing. It is quite cute actually.

There is a strong teacher-streak in Sammy. She likes to give instructions. “Rehan sit here.” “Rehan read a book.” Rehan go play.” “Mumma go to sleep.” “Quiet.”

She also happens to have a rather independent streak in her. We often hear her say “Daddy, go away. I do this.”

She is One. Stubborn. Kid. I wonder who she gets this trait from!

Sammy loves to follow birds. Anywhere. Everywhere.

Oh, and the latest. She has started saying ‘please’ in a way that it is getting challenging for us to not succumb to it. Our conversations go like this. “Mumma, more pop corn.” “No Sammy. Pop-corn is all done. You don’t get any more pop-corn.” “Pleeeeease mumma” I challenge you to stay strong through that ‘please’. 

So there. Now you know almost as much about down syndrome as we do.

How do we explain down syndrome to others?

If I have to explain down syndrome to someone who is slightly older, then I will get into the details of 3 copies of the 21st chromosome, 47 chromosomes instead of 46, extra protein as a result of the extra chromosome strand, resulting in extra medical conditions, non-disjunction versus mosaic versus translocation down syndrome, congenital heart defects, hearing deficiency, developmental delays, speech challenges, thyroid, low muscle tone, distinct features, and so on.

But if I have to explain it to someone who won’t understand the unnecessarily complicated medical mumbo jumbo, then here is what I will say. Our body is made up of tiny cells, which in turn are made up of chromosomes. These chromosomes decide the color of our hair. They decide if our eyes will be big or small. Or brown or black. They decide if our hair will be curly or straight. They decide if we will have freckles or not. Similarly, chromosomes decide whether we have down syndrome or not. It can sometimes take more effort and work for an individual with down syndrome to do certain things. But it is on us to build a society that gives those opportunities. This condition makes an individual unique in their appearance and abilities. But it by no means defines them. Too philosophical? Hey, what else do you expect from someone like me? Especially when in my own head I think I have some sort of double PHD in philosophy.

All said and done, it is a game of attitude at the end of the day.

Our attitude decides how we are toward Sammy.

As far as our attitudes is concerned, we don’t put a cap on her limits or abilities to achieve anything in life. We never had any goals for either of our kids. We don’t have any specific dreams or aspirations for either of our kids. Except that they be happy. There is no specific expectation from them regarding what they should be, who they should become, what they should do, etc. So Sammy’s life, her abilities, her limits, will be completely defined and determined by her. And none of that will be a constant. It is going to continue to change and evolve all her life. I hope she knows that.

Our attitude regarding her health is somewhat similar. On an everyday basis, we do not attribute any of her medical challenges to her chromosomes. But then there are certain issues that are a result of the number of chromosomes in her body – the hole in heart, missing teeth, apnea, enlarged tonsils, etc. These are certain facts that do not escape even the most positive of the attitude and it is good to keep it real. Our challenges are very real and no amount of rainbows or unicorns or positive thinking will wash away those challenges. Medical or non-medical. For almost everything else, we completely forget her chromosome count while evaluating the cause and remedy. We explore her health issues just as we would Rehan’s. We process it like any other medical situation for any other child. Over time we could learn one way or the other. But as far as Sammy’s health goes, more often than not, we know more than her doctors. We know more than our parents. It is a side-effect of immersing ourselves in endless research on all related things!

Our friends’ and family’s attitude takes the cake.

We love this ecosystem. Of our family, friends, and Sammy’s teachers. The crazy amount our family and friends love Samaira is very present and evident in every word they say and every word they don’t say. Their unconditional love for Samaira screams and yells past their kind and excited shells. They genuinely care for Samaira and we know that. We feel the love through their presence and distance! Her day care teachers really do care for her. There is clearly a reason why Sammy is always so excited to go to and not so excited to leave her day care. Her therapists are her champions and we are so blessed for them.

And then there are other people’s attitude.

I am pretty sure some people’s view of life-of-a-family-with-a-special-needs-member is very different from that family’s view of their life-with-a-special-needs-member. While most people will be positive and open, there will be times when some people will react in less than ideal ways. There could be thoughts and comments ranging from ‘I am sorry’, ‘poor kid’, ‘thank God it didn’t happen to us’, ‘I don’t want to be in their position’, and so on. But let me tell you, life on this side of the fence is not bad, or sad, or sorry, or disappointing, or something to lament about.  It is a different life. Granted. It is a different frequency of doctor and therapist appointments. Granted. It is a different set of expectations regarding milestones and abilities. Granted. But once you have a member in your family with any special needs, these things don’t stand out as a “special” thing. These things just are. There is nothing special about it. It is special for the rest of the world. There is nothing extraordinary about it either. There is nothing heroic or awe-inspiring about it. There is nothing awesome or awful about it. It just is. Just like everything else in life. Does it make any sense?

So, do not ever hesitate to ask us any questions about down syndrome. We will not mind it. We will not be offended. It will not be an awkward question. It will be our honor and privilege to respond to your questions. So ask a question. Answer someone in doubt. Seek information. Dispel myths. Propagate reality.

An open minded and accepting society needs a strong foundation and it starts with being fearless, genuine and informed.

No Limits

My Positivity

Happy down syndrome awareness month people! It is a good month.

My precious

Have I said this before? Of course, I have. Maybe. I don't remember. But we will talk about it again.

Anyway, first things first. Welcome to the time of the year that I like the most. Every season comes with its own joys. The snow of winter, the bloom of spring, the sun of summer & the cozy of fall. Something about fall yells cozy up. Bring a blanket. Or two. Or three. Bring your sweaters. Get your comfort on. Bring your family together. Sit down. Relax. Do nothing. Enjoy the rain while sitting inside your cozy cove. Our fall did kick-start with viral illnesses. One by one. All wickets down. First it was Sammy. Literally, the first day of fall, she was sick. Then it was Rehan. And now the husband. Thank goodness I have a rock solid immune system to get me through ;). And hopefully I have not jinxed it now. But my hope is - this too shall pass, and we will be able to enjoy the new season in its full glory.

As we welcome fall into our world we spend some quality time indoors just being. This gives me extra moments to capture and mummify in my heart for ever and ever. They are random silly moments that deserve no mention or attention. But they were pure joy for us and we couldn’t stop laughing at our funny silly kids. These are my precious. I will continue to capture as many of these as mommily-possible.

Like last evening Samaira was pulling my pants as I was trying to cook dinner. I got terribly annoyed and asked her “Sammy what are you doing?” In all her innocence and with a matter of fact expression, she responded “I am pulling your pants.” Of course. What did I think she was doing? Both Siddharth and I cracked up at her matter-of-fact delivery.

The other day when we were giving a medicine to Sammy, Rehan left whatever he was doing and ran to us and said “ma turn.” He actually said it. Crazy! My little boy is growing up too fast. Not that I am complaining. Except just a little bit.

Siddharth was eating sonf (fennel seeds - Indian mouth freshener) this one time and he gave one seed to Rehan. Sammy saw that and came running to Siddhu. Siddharth didn't pay any attention and kept eating more sonf. Sammy looked at him impatiently and finally said "Sammy is right here, daddy!" We both laughed so hard. Well, that is definitely one way to tell she wants something.

Last week we were shopping for kids’ clothes for fall when Sammy ran to the end of the aisle and stood against the wall and started shouting “Where is Sammy? Rehan, where did Sammy go?” Rehan slowly started moving toward her and screamed “aaaaaaaaaa” with excitement when he spotted her. Sammy said “There she is.” Then she pushed Rehan in the corner, which he submissively accepted, and she said “It is Rehan turn.” They did this for about 5 minutes as Siddharth and I hurriedly looked through the clearance section to spot any useful treasures. Kids keeping themselves entertained - priceless.

Btw, Rehan is one of those people who smiles when he makes a mistake. You know that kind? I belong to that kind. And he does too. It makes getting and staying angry with him a little difficult. If he does some mischief and I yell at him, he smiles at me giving a sneak peak at his bottom two teeth. How on earth am I supposed to stay mad at him? I welcome any and all advise.

Oh, and the latest. Our parent dilemma of to sleep-train or not-to-sleep-train continues. But in the meantime, Rehan knows how to get our attention. He sleeps in our room on a mattress that is next to our bed. When he wakes up in the middle of the night and we are not in the room, he cries for a bit. When we don’t respond, he climbs on our bed, reaches for the night-stand, throws the alarm clock on the floor and says “Uh oh.” He did this once and saw how instantly we came inside the room to make sure everything was ok. Now he knows what makes us tick. So he does it every time we are not in the room. Last night, he climbed on to the bed, jumped on to the night stand, got on to the other side of the night stand with his hands against the wall and knees planted firmly on the night stand - obviously stuck. Siddharth walked in the room and saw Rehan stuck between the wall and the night stand. Rehan looked at Siddharth and responded "Uh oh." My little devil.

One special one. I had given a list of about 25 restaurants to Siddharth. A list of places that I want to try. Siddharth called every single one of those restaurants to see if they could make something special for my birthday. Something that would blow my mind. He finally settled on one and kept it a surprise for me. He arranged for a baby-sitter on my birthday evening, which I knew in advance because I checked his text messages :). But I had no idea where we were going. Siddharth did give me a hint that I would be surprised at who recommended this restaurant for my birthday, because that would be me, thank you very much. Needless to say I enjoyed the food, the company, and everything about that evening!

Oh, so many moments to capture. In a timeless capsule. A new season gives me new rigor to capture and preserve. So before it gets old, let me hold it all in a place where I can look back and cherish my little monkeys.

It would be wrong to say that joy is all our kids give to us. And vice versa. They give us a lot of trouble too. Sammy is stubborn as hell. Rehan has quite a temper. The combination is quite lethal. To top it all there is my impatience. And of course Siddharth’s need to always be clean and tidy definitely does not help, especially when that expectation is from our toddlers. But we have learned to live with each other in spite of our challenges. Very happily so. Because that’s what you do when you are a family. Accept each other unconditionally.

This makes them my precious.

An awesome birthday-date-night with my precious!

My Positivity
 

This past Sunday. We went to Costco. That is our weekly grocery haul. We then had lunch at our favorite South Indian restaurant. We came home and spent about 45 minutes cleaning and drying all the produce. And then magic happened. All four of us – the kid #1, the kid #2, the mom and the dad – all. We slept. In the middle of the day. For three hours. Boom Bang Boom! Beat that. I know. You can’t.

My zing and my zang

My day and my night. My ying and my yang. My tick and my tock. My ting and my tang. My zing and my zang. My Sammy and my Rehan. They are two sides of the coin. They are quite similar in some ways, and quite different in others. It is so interesting to watch the differences and the similarities in their personalities. It reminds me every time I see them that it is not always about finding similarities among people, but it is also about appreciating, rejoicing, respecting and accepting the differences. Both Sammy and Rehan are caring and loving in their own way. I just have to recognize their way and love them for the way they love.

While Rehan's face forms an inverted U when we drop him at the day care, Sammy can’t wait to be with her friends and pretend like we are not even there when we are barely done saying bye.

While Rehan comes running to us at the end of the day when we go to pick him up, Sammy runs in the opposite direction and pretends to be really busy with her friends or toys so we understand to not disturb her.

While both my kids are super-stubborn (guess who they got this trait from? Hint: their mom), Sammy is easier to pacify and make understand that certain something is not allowed. Rehan on the other hand gets angry. Like really angry. He is all of 15 month old. How does a child so young know to be angry? Well, genetics do play a certain role I guess.

While Rehan is happy to eat anything and everything, Sammy refuses to eat any vegetables except for peas. I could cut carrots into the size of a sand particle and she will manage to spit that particle out!

While Sammy loves to listen to songs and rhymes and stories at the end of the day (and pretty much any time of the day), we still don’t know what makes Rehan tick. We don’t have a solution for when he cries. It is almost like our guess would be just as good as our next door neighbor’s.

So, there. They are different. And I love it. I value it. I treasure it.

They both love in their own way too.

This one time, Rehan hit Sammy with a plastic ball and I instinctively yelled at Rehan for throwing a ball at Sammy. I asked Rehan to say sorry to her. And he, in his own way, sat in front of her and touched her cheeks. That was his way of saying sorry. Sammy went ahead and hugged him and said “I love you Rehan. I love you.” Sammy on the other hand will jump and attack Rehan with her hugs and kisses when she wants to pacify him. So much so that Rehan now runs scared in the opposite direction when he sees her coming to give him a hug. We just laugh at the spectacle. Because clearly that is the right thing to do as parents.

Just yesterday, instead of sitting in her car seat, Sammy wanted to sit in the driver sit. So I let her sit there while she was pretending to drive. I leaned over to make sure she is fine and she pushed me away saying “Go away. I am driving.” I immediately fast forwarded 10 years (or maybe 5, who knows) and started imagining this dialog coming out of her mouth when she will be in her almost-teens. This dialog will surely come up in some other context, if not driving. I am preparing for it. And while there is a rebellious undertone to it, something about it made me happy. I can’t point my figure at it. It may be very hard to comprehend the possibility of liking something in that statement. But I did. I was celebrating her zing. Her streak of independence.

Most of the times, Rehan does not like to be held. He wiggles his way out of my hands the minute I try to hold him. But completely randomly, out of nowhere, to my utter surprise, he will take a break from him blocks and come give me a hug and say “mummmaa.” That. Right there. Is my zang. I celebrate that attachment. I understand it is probably an under 5 year old thing. But I will celebrate it while it lasts.

Just honoring and celebrating my zing and my zang when I have the opportunity.

Well...one can only try!

My Positivity

 

Last sunny weekend of this summer. Spent with good people, in a good beach, at a nice hour, with nice food. There is a lot to be thankful for.

Go Gold

September is childhood cancer awareness month.

I know this kid. Actually I don’t really know him. I used to know him. Not quite though. I had never met him. I hadn’t met his parents either. We were on a common e-group. He was 7. I saw his pictures. I read his story. He was diagnosed with Diffuse Intrinsic Pontine Giloma (DIPG) last June. DIPG affects the pons portion of the brainstem, which makes nervous system function impossible. It is one of the most resistant of all cancers to chemotherapy treatments. Most patients will die within a year of detection. It primarily affects children. There is no cure. It is even said that a cure for DIPG will result in a cure for almost any type of cancer. So, I read his story. Even though I had never met him or his family, I was a part of that journey in a very tiny way. I followed him. This kid loved planes. He wanted to be a pilot when he grew up. He fought a very brave fight. I didn’t witness most of it. Only the snippets his parents shared. Every word, every sentence, every emotion, every feeling shakes you from the inside.

That’s the thing about little people. I try not to use the word “God” a lot in my writing. But I will use it today. They are God’s creation. If God could ever be proud, it should be on his creation of this thing called childhood. Children are innocent, forgiving, kind, and generous. We are born with these qualities. Each one of us. Some of just retain it more than the others. But the kids have it all. I am so jealous. So when something as disgusting as cancer happens to a kid, then all you want to do is throw something heavy across the room or scream out loud. Neither of those will make you feel better. But it will reduce the energy inside you to think or act negatively. And if God could ever feel sorry, it should be on allowing this thing called childhood cancer. Little people must not be hurt. Ever. Didn’t he understand that? I don’t know at what point a child stops being a child and starts being an adult. But children are too innocent to be hurt in such a way. I am all for learning as you grow and making mistakes and learning from them. But this is not required.

But that’s not the point. The point is that watching your child hurt is one of the worst punishments for any parent. Watching your child go through cancer is worse than the worst punishment.
When someone talks about funding for the cause I don’t hesitate to act first and think later. I don’t go about weighing the statistics for the leading cause of deaths in a country. It doesn’t matter. I don’t even go about listing the illnesses that have impacted me directly\indirectly either. It doesn’t matter. The point is that when a kid gets sick, all the idioms and axioms are rendered useless. So if I can donate for the cause, I do. And that is how we get 1 step closer at a time. To treating cancer. To eradicating this monster.

One of the things I remind myself not to do on hearing about a cancer diagnosis is to thank God for making sure that our kids are healthy and happy. And it is not because I am not thankful to God. But it is because I don’t want to make someone else’s sadness a point of solace for me. I don’t want to think about my luck and my stars when someone else seems so hurt. I never say something thankful when I see something bad happen to someone else. While I believe in counting ones blessings, I don’t think a cancer diagnosis fits under the timeline for the same. I try to just be in the moment. Think of the child\kid diagnosed with cancer. What is it that can be done to help? Be there. Say something. Don’t say anything. Just be there.

So, be kind. Be nice. Everyone is having a bad day, at some point or the other. Everyone is struggling with something. Everyone is hurting from a loss. It happens. So give people the benefit of doubt. Be nice. 

And you know what, he didn’t have cancer until the day he did. So fight cancer with all our might. Go Gold this month. At least in your heart.

Moments into Memories

I am a sucker for pictures. I view our old pictures at least once a day, if not more. Even when I have no time. I somehow gravitate to browsing through old pictures in the 5 free minutes I might get in an entire day. I am thankful that we take pictures. I am pretty sure Siddharth is also thankful because I am always so insistent, annoyingly so, on taking pictures to capture every possible moment we can. Most of the moments captured hold a very special place in my heart and each one tells a story. Story of that moment. How it happened? Why it happened? How I felt about it? How I felt in it? Looking at pictures floods my mind with snapshots of that moment. Those moments are etched as a memory, forever in me.  Sometimes these pictures refresh my long lost forgotten memories. It is precious. These pictures remember my memory, as I would have said a long long time ago.

We spent the first few days of this month basking in the sun and sand of Puerto Vallarta. It was heavenly. The vacation did us so much good that even the crazy humidity couldn’t dampen our spirits. We spent most of our time in the pool, or eating, or sleeping, or lazing. Isn’t that what vacations are meant for anyway? The weather was in fact perfect because somehow it was a perfect combination of heat, sun, overcast, rain, thunderstorms, lightening, water and wind. The pool temperature was perfect. Not cold for sure. Slightly warm. Definitely not hot. We could spend hours sitting in the pool – after breakfast, before dinner, maybe in between too. Kids could walk in the pool because it was just the right depth on the edges. I have to admit it was sometimes unmanageable to control two kids who wanted to run toward the center of the pool, or get out of the pool and run outside. Rehan wanted to throw his pool toys outside the pool all the times. Just so we could bring it back to him. Just so he could throw those again. Samaira wanted to get out of the pool every time we were in it. Or she wanted to get in the pool when we were outside of it. But who cares about these trivial logistics right? In fact, I want to go back there, just to soak in more of the same.

The best part was our vacation was the company of our closest friends and their cutest munchkins! We in fact managed to surprise them by showing up one day before they were going to arrive. Siddharth shocked them even more when he pretended to serve mimosas at the entrance of the hotel as our friends arrived. They actually accepted mimosa from Siddharth, said “thank you”, and realized a few seconds later “wait, who is that?” Company trumps all evens and beats all odds. And we had fantastic company. We spent a day roaming around the town. Shopping, site seeing, roaming, photographing, you name it.

My favorite was the old town in the city. It reminded me of Hawaii and Greece all at the same time. It has the greenery of Hawaii and the character of Greece. I wanted to spend an entire day there. I might just go back there to spend an entire day in specific parts of Puerto Vallarta. This beauty does not get old, my friend. And too much relaxation never hurt anyone.

There has been a common theme every time we have been to Mexico. At least a few people come up to us and start talking to us in Spanish. They assume we belong to the country, which, I think is splendid. It makes me blush and gloat and I take it as a huge complement. Except I don’t know the language. Oh, well! I will learn it someday. Maybe.

We did pull off a stunt in the last few hours in Puerto Vallarta. We left our SLR in the random cab that dropped us from downtown to the hotel. We realized we didn’t have our camera about 5 min after that cab left. We searched for our camera everywhere we could. Siddharth left in another cab to try and find our original cab in which we left the camera. Siddharth somehow found a friend of our cab driver, made that friend take him to our driver’s house, had the cab driver’s son call him on cell phone, waited till our cab driver reached his own home – just to find Siddharth waiting for him. In the end, however, we did not find our camera. We lost it. My heart still tugs every time I think of the last few hours we spent looking for the camera. The only solace I could find was in the notion that maybe whoever got our camera needed it more than we did. That – I can live with. Plus, I have those small tiny moments etched as a memory, forever in my heart. It is priceless. Something no one take from us. Plus, it gives us another reason to go back to Puerto Vallarta. To turn more moments into memories. We will be back for more!

Family Four-fi

My Positivity

It was a little hard this week because we lost the camera. But have you ever asked a kid what their biggest problems are? Milk. Hunger. Sleep. Poo-poo. Pee-pee. While the whole camera craziness was going on, Sammy and Rehan were unperturbed by their surroundings. They were busy fighting for The Cat in The Hat. The uszh. And that is my positivity this week. Can I become a kid again? Pretty, please?

"I am not as bad as I look," said Failure

This is like déjà vu. Like it is happening all over again. Like I have talked about it before. Multiple times, maybe. But that didn’t stop me from writing about it yet again. It is that important.

I think destiny does us a major solid each time we fail. Success makes us happy. It makes us efficient. It makes the whole world go around. So, by no means do I want to take away from the idea of success. I love success. I love to succeed. It hurts to fail. It makes me wish away failure. But here is the point. When does our real growth occur? Not quite literally. Not the physical growth. But emotion, intellectual growth. The kind of growth in which our bodily-humanity-cells grow. That growth occurs when circumstances are not pretty. When they are not picture perfect. When the outcomes are not what we expect. When we struggle. When we fail, or when we have the perception of failure. So, while success grows the world, failure grows people. I have to remind myself to greet failure and disappointment with as much dignity as I treat success. This message hits harder every time I realize how little we control in lives. Our corporate world and type A personalities will have us believe that we run the show and control the world. But, no. Oh, no. Could we be more wrong? What we can have a direct control over is our own self, our own actions, and our own thoughts. Sometimes, not even. The maximum we have over everything else is some level of probable influence. Definitely not control. This is no cop-out. This is to say that we need to draw a map of control and of influence. Neither will predict a desired outcome. But it will help us manage our efforts and therefore our expectations.

While I am trying to write all of this, a little voice in my head is going, “T – stop being all preachy and lessony. This world is full of experts and gurus. It does not need yet another 30-something, mother of two, sort-of-engineer, sort-of-business-girl giving advice on how to live life and figure out the important stuff in life." You will be amazed at the promptness with which I am able to shun that little voice in my head and get on with my life-lessony-rant. Because some things are just that important. So I lose my inhibitions, keep calm, and preach on.

So, people. Listen to me. No, I am totally kidding. Not that preachy. But seriously. Just joking.
The point is that I am trying to embrace failures and disappointments with the respect they deserve. To the point that I am still able to lament, stop lamenting, stand up and move on. I have a very, very , long way to go. But I am up for this challenge. Looking for the brighter side. The sliver-lining. The sunny-side up. Or what have you. Words can so often be our biggest enemy, but they can be powerful as well. Just writing these words and articulating these sentences can lift my spirits.

To top it all, Sammy & Rehan are there to teach me and help me course correct every time I get off the wagon. Every time I see them fall off the stairs, cry, and get back up to climb the same stairs again, I make a mental note ‘Did you just see that? What failure? What disappointment?” Remember it. For future reference.

 

A failure is only a failure if you let it beat you down. Or else, it could be your BFF.

And every failure in life can be overcome with some ice-cream anyway

 

My Positivity

 

My coworker mentioned this quote the other day, “Seek first to understand. Then to be understood.” Whoa. Oh hey quote, where were you all these years? Thanks for entering my life with a bang.