Keeping it real

Long time no post. I figured I will start with what happened since the last post. So we are 5 now. Two vs Three. Four Hands vs Six Hands. And I have to admit the struggle is real. All of me wanted to debunk the myth around three-under-four. Not that I wanted to prove it is easy. Just prove that we were able to glide this phase with a little bit of dignity. Grace. Or something like that. But boy oh boy! Is it hard or is it hard!?  

I sometimes get transported to the time when I wasn't a mom yet. But being a mom was still on my mind. All the things I said to myself. 

I will never let my kids eat fries, junk food and unhealthy food.

I will never say “no” to my kids. 

I will not shout at my kids. Ever.

I will never punish my kids. I will not give time out to my kids.

I will never let my kids cry, and pick him/her immediately to console.

My kids will be the most disciplined kids out there.

I will always cook fresh meals for my kids.

My kids won’t be those screaming, shouting, yelling kids you see on the streets and restaurants. 

I will never lie to my kids to get them to do stuff. 

I will be the best mom out there. Basically.

Because you know, all this modern parenting and attachment parenting and stuff. I was such a good parent until I actually became a parent. 

Fast forward now. 

My kids eat all the junk food known to mankind. Fries are their absolute favorite. Rehan could survive on sweets alone. Until some time back, Sammy was repulsed by any green and nutritious looking food. So much so that she refused a cake this one time because it had green icing on it. Rehan now refuses to eat anything that’s not sweet. We won’t tell his dentist.

Every other word coming out of my mouth is a synonym of “no.” I try to be creative and look for other words so I can convince myself that at least I am not saying “no.” But who am I kidding? As much as I try to talk about the consequences and tell them “It’s not a good choice,” I resort to the regular negatives. Don’t. Stop. Never. Don't you dare. Don't even. These words are very typical in my vocabulary now. On top of that, these kids have the why mania. I try to be a good mom and respond to all their whys in the most respectful and intelligent way possible. But I have my limits. Depending of their questions, my mood and the time of the day I respond with a “just” or “I don’t know” or a shrug. Although Rehan is quick to reciprocate with “But mumma, I asked you why.” But how do I respond to “Why is this a couch, mumma ?!” 

And do you even want to guess whether or not I shout at my kids. Heck yes, I do.

I do try to punish my kids. While some people believe in “talking it out” with their kids, others believe in straightening them with shouting-screaming-scorching words. I haven't figured out a punishment for my kids yet. What I mean is, I haven't figured out what my kids consider a punishment yet. Most time outs are fun exercises for them and they actually enjoy it. If I stop talking to them for some time then they go to each other for more fun. So as it turns out, what I consider punishment for them is actually way more fun. Its almost like they are showing me the middle finger in their own playful way. 

I remember someone telling me “I can’t imagine putting my kids in day care. What if they are crying and the teacher can’t pick him/her up because she is busy caring for another kid.“ In my mind I was like “How did I not think of this concern before enrolling my first kid in the day care!?” And now that we have three, of course our kids cry. And we let them. In fact when Rehan is crying for what we think is no-reason-whatsoever, we tell him to go to another room to settle down before coming back to the room until he is ready to talk. I had someone visit us recently and witness the spectacle that we are during dinner times. It was one step short of food flying around like it would in a space shuttle or in a gravity defying area. To top it, Kabir was screaming and was almost about to fall off his rocker because I forgot to buckle him. That did not stop me from finishing all the vegetable chopping I had to, because I knew I would be done chopping and be there to pick up Kabir before he could fall. And because secretly I know I am a super mom. But our guest did not know this, clearly. So they are staring at me in disbelief with their eyes saying “Lady, if your hands are full, do you need me to lift your infant so he doesn't injure himself?” My eyes communicated back to them “I got this…kind of.”

Don’t even get me started on discipline. Our kids are not disciplined. At least not with us. They are slightly better behaved when we are not around. But ever so slightly. I have some folks give me advice based on their expertise because their kids are so well behaved and sorted. But none of that advice works on my kids. Or maybe it is me. Oh, well! I haven't given up. But my way of disciplining could look a lot different from your way of disciplining, to the point that it may look the opposite of disciplining. But believe me, I am trying to discipline my kids.

I am not a firm believer in fresh meals. I believe in left overs. I could almost call it my religion. I love left overs. Fresh food is over rated anyway. In fact my attitude towards kids’ meals is so unsettling for some folks that I almost suppress my natural instincts around people when it comes to feeding my kids. I try my best to let my kids eat on their own. And on the days they don't eat on their own, I let them be. I don’t wait for them to eat before I eat. I don’t cook any special ultra-nutritious food for them and just feed them whatever we are eating, which, let’s be honest, has questionable nutrition content to begin with. It bothers me to sit around waiting for kids to finish their meals, and spoon feed them if they aren't eating. Does that make me a bad mom? God, I hope not. But maybe it does.

Oh, I forgot. Let me introduce you to my kids. Their middle names are screaming, shouting and yelling. Respectively. Or in no particular order. Who cares? But wait. Those are their first names. Because I don't believe in middle names. Point is, they shout. They shout when they want something, they shout when they don't want something, they shout when they get what they want, they shout when they don't get what they want. You get the idea. They shout. Especially, Rehan. He is an angry shouter. Sammy is an experimental shouter. And then I shout back “Stop shouting!!!” You are probably wondering if it works. And the answer is - no. It absolutely does not. Being patient works sometimes. But I don't always have time for patience, you see.

Lying is a touchy topic with me. I can tolerate almost anything in my life but for lies. I have been honest to the point of being stupid. I used to either not speak, or speak my mind. But not lie. The worst thing for me in a relationship was lying. I have always hated being lied to. If I did not like you, chances are you would have known it. I am now getting better at this whole lying thing, because, well, life. But in this context, I lie to my kids. All the time. I tell Rehan, “Wear your shoes otherwise bugs will take it away.” When I am all out of patience, and time, and motivation, and energy, and he still has plenty of all of the above, I use his pretend-fear of bugs to get s**t done. He doesn't like bugs. So if he needs to eat his dinner but he wants to eat an apple instead, I tell him it has bugs so he can eat his dinner. I don't think it will last long though. Because off late he has started picking on what I am doing here. And he insist on eating the buggy-apple because he thinks he will like it more than dinner. 

So. Do I get mom of the year award? I am so bummed I don’t. But I think it is more important to live. So I will do without the award and the accolades for now. As much as I wanted to pretend to be modest, yet boast about my perfect family of five, all the struggles are so very real. I don’t need other people to judge me because I am constantly judging myself as a mom. Am I breaking my kids? Are they going to be ok? I could be doing so much more with them! I am in awe of and am surprised by parents who can’t stop talking about how awesome their kids are and what a great job of parenting they have done! That kind of confidence in themselves as parents is mind blowing. 

In fact, I often wonder how Prince William and Duchess Kate Middleton deal with their toddler Prince George. I think he is roughly the same age as Rehan. When I saw Prince George greet President Obama, I wondered what Rehan would have done if he were to meet the President. First, I wouldn't let that happen. Because, toddler tantrums. Doesn't Prince George throw any fits? Doesn't he cry and yell when he meets strangers? Or when he doesn't get that one candy he probably needs for survival? How can a toddler be graceful when he is a threenager! Doesn't he embarrass his parents? Doesn't he make the Duke and the Duchess hide their faces behind the curtains and pretend like he is not their son. How do they do it? That will always be a mystery to me. A mystery I probably don’t want to solve anyway. 

While there are days when unicorns don't feel real anymore. Wait, did you just say they aren't real anyway?! While there are also days when I am trying to remind myself of the rainbows and the baby feet and the chubby cheeks to get by. While I oscillate somewhere between trying really really hard to be patient, and wanting to kill the next person who wants to give me advice on how to feed, or raise, or treat, or discipline my child. I do get some very real rewards. 

It is rewarding to see Kabir being a panacea for Sammy and Rehan. Kabir is their life line. They are majorly obsessed with him. It is almost scary because ever since Kabir was a month or two old, Sammy wanted to lift him and run with him in case she saw us coming in her direction. She still wants to hold him. She has understood that running with him is not a good choice. <Wink>. Rehan comes to Kabir and talks all about his sorrows because he didn't get the ice cream he so badly wanted. Tough life. The point is that it is heart melting to see them laugh and cry together. It is lovely to see Kabir being so loved by his (barely) older siblings. 

It is rewarding to see Sammy and Rehan be excited for each other. To see them play with each other for the 10 minutes in the 24 hours that they are not fighting (of course there is just a pinch of exaggeration) is my absolute favorite. I take Rehan to pick up Sammy at the bus stop every day and that’s one of the happiest times for Rehan. As soon as he sees Sammy’s bus in the horizon, he starts jumping until the bus stops in front of us. It involves about 20-25 seconds of continuous jumping. But he is beyond excited to see Sammy. In fact he can’t stop talking to her as soon as he sees her. “Sammy, I got hurt here. See. That’s right, Sammy. I got hurt here. I fell down over there. I was running and I got hurt. Do you want to play with me Sammy?” He goes on and on and on.

These rewards manage to bring all the mushy gooey feelings in my liver. Because my heart is too full. 

Her Expressions: "I will play nice for the next 2 seconds". His Expressions: "Get me out of here". My Expressions: "Hurry! You have the next 2 secs before they run in opposite direction".

His Expressions: "Lady, do you even know what you are doing?"

Kabir

It took me a while to get comfortable with the idea that we will be sharing our super special news with our friends and extended family come time. 

I think it was about a month or so after Rehan was born. I was sitting and watching Sammy and Rehan interact with each other. Something about that one moment kicked my mommy hormones enough to want a third child. Add another one in the mix. There wasn't much more to the idea than “It will be nice to have three kids.” It was just a feeling.

I chewed on this idea for a while before bringing it up to Siddharth. I underplayed my excitement when I finally brought it up with him. “What do you think about having a third child?” I expected a reaction of “Are you mad?” Those were our sleepless-in-Seattle days when Rehan was waking up pretty much every hour in the night. Both of us were massively sleep deprived. And under-rested. To my utter surprise, Siddharth reacted with “I am not terribly opposed to the idea.” Even before I could be happy for his reaction, I was shocked. But I hid my surprise under a solid layer of “yeah, makes sense.” I thought if I acted surprised then he would change his mind. So I played super cool. As if that was the plan all along, when in fact it wasn't. I did have a twinkle in my eye. And in my silly heart.

We were super ecstatic when we found out we were pregnant. We started thinking of names. We started thinking of how we will manage grocery shopping when three kids will run in three different directions and we will just be two. Officially outnumbered. We thought of how noisy our home will be. How crowded our dining table will be. How messy our carpet will be. How chaotic our lives will be. How foolish in love we will be to relish it all. 

At the back of my mind I did think about how most people would react to our news.

“What’s wrong with you?” 

“It is hard enough to handle these two. How are you planning to put the third one in the mix?” 

“What were you thinking? Or not thinking?” 

“Well, I would never do this. But good on you.” 

I didn't really want to be judged for our decision. I told Siddharth about it. He laughed. He laughed thinking how much I cared for what people thought. Especially regarding a decision that is so personal. His reaction did put me to ease. Laughing it off. I realized the silliness of my worry. Oh, well.

Of course it is challenging. It isn't easy. We still have a total of four hands. And three kids. It doesn't always scale, you know. But sometimes it isn't about the hands to kids ratio. It is about how many people I want at my dinner table. My magic number is five. 

So here we were. With the last bit of our magic number in my tummy. 

My babies tend to enjoy the outside fresh air more than my tummy’s amniotic fluid. Both Sammy and Rehan were born in the 8th month and didn't quite reach the 9th month. And history was sure to repeat this time as well. So I rested. A lot. 

I was relieved as soon as I crossed the milestone when Rehan was born (35 weeks 5 days). This was the most pregnant I had ever been. I was pretty much ready to pop after that. 

November 1, 2015, 7:30am: It was a lazy Sunday morning. Siddharth and I were still not out of our bed. I was telling Siddharth all about me being really cognizant of every little thing I felt in my tummy. Every little kick. Every little braxton hick. Every little whatever-else-happens-there. As I was telling him this, I felt a massive kick. I told Siddharth “Like this one. I don't know if this was a kick or a contraction. A real contraction or a fake contraction.” Siddharth was like “You will know when it will happen. Don't worry.” Even though he knows that “worry” is my real middle name. 5 minutes later I felt like I was leaking. And I knew. I said “it is happening.” Siddharth knew that face. He had seen it before. Twice. 

Given that this was the third time, we took time to brush our teeth, freshen up. We didn't rush out like the world was going to end in the next minute. We took it a little easy. Just a little though. Then we went downstairs and told my mom and sister. Tata. Bye bye. See you later. With one more little person this time. All of us were super excited.

We called the hospital before leaving home. We also called our doula on the way, “We know we haven't discussed this yet, but we need your help. Do you mind coming over?” Being the awesome person she is, she did not hesitate. We reached the hospital and were greeted by a bunch of nurses who knew that I have a history of 2 hour labor and premature delivery. They were all ready. I was quite impressed. My gynecologist happened to be on the rounds at the time and she saw my name and dropped by. “So, you are here!” “Yup,” I said with a grin. She was with me for the entire duration and I am so thankful for that. 

Three hours, painful contractions, and a couple of major pushes later, we had our baby in our hands.

Kabir.

And I have to say, it doesn't get old. The happiness. The rush. The giddiness. The warmth. As much as I wondered “how can I love another child as much?” I realize that I am able to tap into my unseen, undiscovered pool of love to feel just as much madness for my third baby. My Kabir. It is quite nuts. This whole phenomena. It is pretty unreal. As much as the second and third kids survive on hand-me-downs and lack of attention (thanks to their super demanding older siblings), they get more love from their older sibling(s) than their parents. 

Sammy and Rehan have their heart in Kabir. I was surprised to see how much they instantly connected with him. Kabir happens to be Rehan’s confidant. Anytime Rehan is not happy, or gets hurt, he runs to Kabir and tells him “Kabir, I got hurt. I am sad.” And then he gives him a tight hug. It melts my heart. Sammy loves him so much. A little too much for his own good. She wants to hold him, play with him, bathe him, nurse him. I am pretty much not needed. Except, I am. Over the next few weeks or months I will be able to comment on the reality of three kids. But I am in my honeymoon phase for now. The rest can wait.

My life is made. Pretty much. 

A few months back, I wrote a poem on “The Chase” to find happiness in life. Siddharth penned a response of his own to my poem. He called it “My 2 cents” :). 

My 2 Cents

In response to your latest blog

I’d like to share a mere thought

As a person I might be thick as a log

The one thing I agree is that happiness cannot be bought

While I understand that happiness is the real key

I shudder to think why there are so many locks

Even though some say the key resides within me

The closed doors are just nature’s mocks

You might think that you are in a bind

Only you can free yourself from the shackle

In the end it’s just a state of mind

Your negative thoughts are what you have to tackle

If you look deep inside, 'happy' is already a part of you

Everyone you know does think it’s true

I know some days are bright and some days are blue

Just remember that we are no longer just two

We now look forward to Kabir, if you’re counting, that's five

We’ve already met Rehan and Sammy

I couldn’t have asked for a better life

With kids so cute and a wife so dreamy

:)

I feel so lucky. Here is to the five of us!

October

Samaira will be 4 at the end of this year and Rehan will be two and a half. Its crazy! When did this happen? My favorite thing about them is watching them grow. Watching them grow into these quirky little (actually mega) personalities. Another favorite thing of mine is to watch them interact with each other. We could sit and watch them interact all day. Literally. Until of course they start pulling each other’s hair or biting each other or hurting each other in any which way. Until then they are on their own. 

Both our kids are small enough that they have not started questioning their differences just yet. They look at each other and notice the differences - differences in behavior, attitudes, who shouts more, who says please, etc. Not quite about their physical features. They don’t question these differences just yet. We haven't heard Samaira’s classmates question her differences either. So we haven't crossed the bridge of explaining to them that Samaira has down syndrome. 

This is the down syndrome awareness month. And one of the things that I do wonder about is how will we cross that bridge when we get to it. We do put it off to “We will cross that bridge when we get to it,” but there are definitely moments of “But, how?” Honestly, the answer is I don’t know. I don't know if there is a right way or a wrong way. If it is ok to proactively discuss it with Samaira’s surroundings, or if it is better for her friends to form their own opinion about her regarding, or regardless of, her diagnosis. I am kind of divided in my own head about it. We even got some books that we could share with our friends and family. But I am not sure if that’s the route we should go.

In either case, if a kid does get curious about differences between Samaira and them, then here is how I think I will handle it. Maybe.

All of us are made of some building blocks. These building blocks are called our DNA. Our DNA decides the color of our hair, the shape of our eyes, the color of our skin, our height, our nails, and so on. We all are uniquely different people in every possible way and a big part of it is our DNA and the information that resides in it. So if you see someone talk differently, behave differently, look different, etc., know that a big part of it is because of their DNA. Down Syndrome means that there is some extra information in that person’s DNA. That extra information results in some differences, which is what you see. It results in different physical features, different learning capabilities, different speech, different pace of reading and writing. But then, we all have different features, different learning capabilities, somewhat different speech/accents, different pace of reading and writing. So it just proves that we are all different. Someone with down syndrome may seem very different, but those differences are just a small part of their personality. There is so much more to them than the differences that may jump out on face value. But you can only find out more about them if you make a friend with someone with down syndrome. You will know about things they like, the movies they like to watch, the people they like to hang out with, the food they like to eat, the story books they like to read. You will know a lot more about them once you get to know them. They will do great things in life, just like you will. They will do it at their own pace, in their own time. 

So that’s my hypothetical shpeel. I don't know if I will use it. But it is a start. It is a seed. We will take it from here when time comes.

For now, here are some very unique things about Samaira that I want the whole world to know.

This girl can mimic. It is a talent either you are born with or you are not. She mimics Rehan syllable to syllable. She has started saying meeeaaalk for milk, because that’s what Rehan says. She says yeow for yellow, because that’s what Rehan says. She mimics not only the words, but also his tone, his accent. Everything. She says it his way and then she smiles. She smiles because she knows exactly what she is doing. That sharp cookie. 

Samaira’s teacher sent her progress report a few days back. It said something like “Samaira has great leadership skills. She has the ability to convince people to do what she wants. She now needs to work on her ability to follow when other people are leading.” In other words, she can be really lazy sometimes and get other people to do the work she is doing. She is stubborn and has a very strong mind of her own. We somehow need to tell her “Sammy, the world doesn’t run according to you. Not everything works the way you want to it to…following is just as important as leading.” That’s for another day. For now, we just chuckle.

She is also a big tease. When she knows Rehan really really wants something, she snatches it from him and runs away and makes sure he is following her. She giggles because she finds it pretty darn funny. Rehan cries “Sammy took it away.” Sammy is so used to this routine now that when she snatches something from Rehan, she proactively comes and tells us “Sammy took it away.”

Samaira can tell I am not happy, or am not 100% myself without me saying a word. It may sound nuts, but she can look at my face and see I am not ok and she is the first one to ask me “Mumma, are you sad? Why are you not happy” All I can do in that moment is look at her in wonderment and think to myself “What did I do right to deserve her?” 

There are a lot of other unique things about Samaira and these are just a few. But you have to know her to find out what makes her so unique. 

We celebrate Down Syndrome Awareness Month every year now, with a little bit more information, a little bit more knowledge, a lot more joy, a few more fears. We don't know everything, just yet. We have a lifetime to figure out everything about down syndrome. But we can always share whatever little we know anyway. 

This girl rocks my world!

Control

I was talking to my sister recently about positive and negative events in our lives and how they impact us. We went for hours talking about the so called positive and negative events. We talked and talked and talked and realized that we are talking about the stuff that we have known for a long time anyway. There was nothing new in our conversation. There was no groundbreaking discovery. There was no eureka moment. There was a constant realization of “I know. Easier said than done.” 

We talked about negative events being and feeling negative because of the perception more than the event itself. What makes a tragedy a tragedy? It is not the tragedy itself. It is our perception of that event. Tragedy is probably too severe a word to use for our everyday life instances. But you get the idea. The way we think and process the events in our life have a greater impact on us than the occurrence itself. While the reality is that we are better off without a bad event occurring in our life, there is also the reality that when you think something bad is happening to us, it is not that bad in the large scheme of things. But it is hard to see it in that moment. In fact, more often than not it is impossible to see the greater good amidst some crappy experience you may be going through. That is why it is so much easier said than done that life is all about perspective and a bad event may not be as bad as we think it is.

In fact, there is so little in our lives that we can actually control. It may seem like a very regressive statement in todays day and age of technology, innovation and breakthroughs. But a big part of me really and truly believes in this statement. The philosopher in me treats this as a holy grail of our existence. We spend out lives planning and figuring and creating and inventing and progressing. All in the hope for a better future, more advancement and an easier life. But I am sure all of us have faced realities amidst these breakthroughs that ground us. That level our thinking. That make us realize that as humans keep getting more and more powerful and omni-everything each day, there is a part of us that cannot control it all. We as humans are not supposed to control this Universe and all its events. If that were the case we would have been born with a remote control to control this Universe. But we are born with the ability to control ourselves. And therefore we are born with our minds in our body. The point is that you can control yourself, your thoughts, your actions, your reactions. And you better know your limits. Of course, easier said than done. But it really puts a lot of things into perspective. 

My sister recently attended a seminar and one of the things she took away from it was the realization of how we treat things and events differently based on our convenience or perception. For example we all deem smoking and drugs to be vices that we supposed to be bad for our mind, body and soul. But we don’t treat negative emotions such as jealousy, contempt, anger, and so on similarly. While the reality is that these negative emotions harm our body, quite literally and physically and not just emotionally, just as much, if not than any drugs out there. But while we build our perceptions around physical substance such as drugs and cigarettes, we forget to pay attention to emotions that fundamentally make or break us. The truth is that we should be treating anger and jealousy with an equal force. But of course easier said than done. I read somewhere long time ago: When someone else does something wrong or unacceptable, we blame it on their character. But when we do something wrong or unacceptable, we blame it on our situation. I don't know about you but this is especially true for me. Once I put this thought at the back of my mind, I realize how much I actually do this. We are so willing to give ourselves the benefit of doubt and blame our faults on the situation. We are equally unwilling to realize that someone who did something bad to us did it because of their situation and not because of who they are. We are so quick to call people mean, selfish and money minded. When in fact we demonstrate similar behavior and conveniently ignore it, or attribute to factors outside of us.

What is the point of this long, random, round about piece of writing? Well, there is no one point. Maybe there is no point. But there is a realization, yet again, that we are small tiny fractions of unit in this world that we can’t really deem ourselves more important than we really are. While we deal with all sorts of events and emotions that happen around us, we just need to know our strength and our limitations. And control is a very important part of it. Knowing what we can control and what we can’t control is at the heart of making peace with the happiness and the sadness of life. Here is a to digging one layer deeper every day in knowing more about us. Our limitations. Our strengths. Our controls. And our non-controls.

Judgement & Opinions

It has always been very easy for me to identify which side of the argument I stand on when it comes to being judgmental. Don't be. That is my side. Always. I make a conscious effort to practice that side. I am pretty sure there are times I fail. But it is one of the few things I really care about. Not being judgmental. Everyone has a different story, a different context, different circumstances, different background, different priorities, different sensitivities, different sensibilities, different likings, different disliking. You get the idea. The point is, everyone is so different. It is so unfair to to declare in your infinite wisdom that “a certain something is the only right thing to do.” In an absolute reality, that just isn't true. Be it about what people eat, or wear, or read, or see, or write, or say. That said, there are some guidelines I still tend to follow. Like, it shouldn't impact your health negatively. I can never ever in a thousand years be indecisively negative about smoking. I am absolutely, 100%, decisively against and repulsed by smoking. I don't think it is good for your or others’ health and I am quite judgmental about it. So health issues are slightly off the limits when it comes to this topic. So are issues pertaining to hurting oneself or someone else. It does get a little gray here. Some things that people do in the name of discipline or religion could be considered as things that potentially hurt you at some level. But I treat that differently from physically or emotionally hurting someone or oneself in certain other ways. If that certain something is causing someone I love to be negatively impacted in any which way, then all bets are off. None of what I have ever said may or may not be true. I may be after your blood. Not really. Only metaphorically. Lot of subjectivity going on here. I get it. But the point is that I am generally accepting of people and their choices especially when they don't impact me or my loved ones. 

The thing I am attempting to reconcile this with is opinions. Opinions are important. For your self, for your self esteem, and just because. It is important to have a point of view. I quite value it. In my mind, not being judgmental does not and should not translate to not having opinions. But how is it really possible? This is me talking out loud. But wouldn't your opinions make your judge people accordingly. I am not sure what spectrum I fall in. I want to believe I have the best of both worlds. That is, I am not judgmental and I have opinions. But something’s got to give. If you have strong opinions on a topic then how is it that you can be non-judgmental regarding the same when it comes to other people. Is it because while I have opinions, I don't care enough? That sounds little too detached to me. I don't want to sounds that detached. I am not really sure where acceptance, non-judgment attitude and having-opinions meet on a spectrum. Or if they meet ever. 

My mind is actively arguing on this issue. But I am not able to resolve it. On one hand I feel so passionately about not judging other people for who they are and the choices they make. On the other hand I value having opinions and standing up for them. Being non-judgmental means people can see two (or more) sides of the same issue. You understand why some people could like something and others could hate the same thing. But then you have your own opinion on whether or not that thing is likable. So what do you think of people who don't think like you? Does simple having the understanding of the other side release you from the ability to judge them. This logic, somewhat makes sense to me. But how true it really is. Do we just pretend to be understanding of other people’s opinions and choices while still harbor our strong opinions? Do we pretend to be non-judgmental while persisting our opinions? Or do we really, truly emphasize with people who have different opinions than ours’?

I haven’t figured this one out yet. So I don't know where to begin concluding this post. I am going to leave it open ended. Until I crack this code…

Way out of negativity

While it sounds somewhat negative, I am writing about it because I feel rather positive right now. I can’t think objectively about negativity when I am in negative state of mind. For me to think objectively about negativity, I have to be in a somewhat positive state of mind. That said, it is one of the things I wonder about quite often. Why do we feel negative? About things, circumstances, people, anything. It is a slightly tricky one for me because I get easily influenced by what is around me. We feel negative toward circumstances when they are not favorable toward us, or when they don't go as we planned, or when we feel like we are not in control. We feel negative toward people or things when we feel let down by them, or we get a sense of judgement or pessimism from them, or we feel anger toward them. I honestly don't know how to not feel negative in such situations. But I also know that the only entity that suffers through our negativity is us. It is not the circumstances, or the things, or the people who caused you to get in that negative zone to begin with. And there lies the catch. Albeit, easier said than done. It just means that even more important than feeling positive is the act of trying to stop feeling negative. While feeling positive may sound like the ultimate goal (it does to me anyway) it is not the step in life that helps us get stronger. It helps us stay happy for sure. But it is our drive and the will to stop being in a negative place and get to a positive place that determines how we fare. It also depends on our point of view. I have very often seen people draw positive and negative conclusions from the exact same situation and people. It depends on how you look at things. Some people have an always-wrong whereas some people have an always-not-wrong outlook when viewing situations. I have realized what a world of difference it makes in whether or not a situation or a person will make you negative or positive, or at least not-so-negative.

For all this abstract mumbo jumbo I have typed, here are some instances and people that make me realize the crux of point of view, frame of mind, what makes us negative, how to be positive and not-so-negative.

The other day I was at a clinic where I spent 30 minutes waiting in the reception area just to be called in by a nurse. I waited another 20 minutes to see the doctor once I was finally let in by the nurse. I was so incredibly mad that I wanted to yell at someone, or hit someone, or worst yet, cry. How on earth could something get so inefficient. There are two possible outcomes when I am feeling so negative - I could let it all out and spit out some very negative words and emotions, or, don't say anything at that point to avoid all the negative stuff from coming out. At that point I avoided saying anything. But on my way out I called Siddharth and told him what happened. I was so angry that I was literally shouting at him while narrating the experience. He responded “Sorry babe, you had to go through all that. It sucks. I hope the patient before you is ok though because if the doctor took this long to see you then he must be spending more time with the previous patient, which probably doesn't bode well for them.”  Seeing the enormous outpour of empathy for a patient we didn't know and doctor Siddharth didn't see that day hit me like a massive snowball filled with ice. I obviously wasn't thinking of anyone else but me. Most people would probably do that, because why not. But Siddharth’s first thought was the other patient who needed so much extra time from the doctor. My extreme negativity was quite a contrast to Siddharth’s extreme empathy and not-so-negative outlook. And there lies the difference. He always functions in the mode of giving people the benefit of doubt. I always function in the mode of ‘they are not right’ and ‘they need to prove otherwise’. Except nobody is really bothered about it so I am left feeling all the more negative. This difference in our outlook makes such a big difference in whether we feel negative or not so negative and how we cope with it. 

Another story I remember is that of my paternal grandfather (papa ji). He passed away when I was less than three. Weird enough, I have a distinct and real memory of talking to my papa ji in our old family home and I remember him handing me a pen or something like that. That is obviously besides the point. Anyway, the point is, all of what I know about him is through the pictures and stories my parents tell about him. He was a freedom fighter, he worked in theater, he wrote poems, he wrote songs in movies and private albums back in the day. He did a lot of stuff. But most importantly he was a free spirited person. They lived in a very humble home. Nothing extravagant. Simple. Basic. This one time there was a theft in their home. I am not sure what time of the day it was. I think it happened overnight when everyone was asleep. They discovered in the morning that somebody broke in and their house was in complete shambles. While everyone was in a major panic mode, papa ji was relieved that all the family members were safe and that no one was hurt. He was calm and asked everyone to calm down, drink a cup of tea, and then start looking at what we had lost. What!? How is that reaction humanly possible?! Obviously path breaking. But it reflects on his tendency and inclination to think of the positives before thinking of the negatives in life. I wish I could have known him. 

Every time I see my brother and his much better half, A, I am reminded of how the spirit of life trumps the circumstances in life. We all go through ups and downs in life. But every time I look at A, I am reminded that her enthusiasm toward life is like that of a five year old child. And I love that about her. No matter what is going on in life, her spirit and positivity toward life are unparalleled. It makes me jealous and make me want to have the same streak. But a part of me believes it really comes from within. We all are pre-disposed to thinking one way or the other. Not that you can’t train your mind and body to drift away from your natural tendencies. But it takes a lot of work. 

It is kind of similar to how Siddharth reacts so differently when he finds out that he is let down by someone. My knee jerk reaction “WTH !? It is unacceptable.” His reaction on the other hand is “It is not their fault. Maybe there are circumstances that caused them to say these negative things. Maybe they don't mean it. We don’t know what they were going through when they said something.” I try to think like him and give people the benefit of doubt, but that is so not my natural tendency. It takes so much of me to be the bigger person, and yet I fail more than 50% of the times. So the same person, the same conversation and the same circumstances ignite a very different reaction and feeling in the two of us.

I feel like I am all over the place on this topic. But I constantly feel the need to re-evaluate my reactions and my tendency to feel a certain way in certain circumstances or with certain someone. The easiest way for me to not feel negative is to avoid circumstances and people who bring out the negativity in me. And while avoiding is not a great strategy, it definitely helps to surround ourselves with people and things that make us happy. They do, to some extent, lend to happier circumstances. And they are the ones who help us out of our negativity. That is my easy and quick fix remedy.   

Strangely enough, there are two paradoxical things that happen simultaneously. I do strongly believe that positivity is infectious. If you surround yourself with the people who lift you up, are supportive of you in front of you and behind your back, ground you, keep it real and keep it jolly - you will surely feel more positive than not. That said, I also think that negativity is a state of mind that you have to fix from within and no outside factor can change it for you. You can have all the luxuries of the world, or be in an unprecedented crunch - you could still end up feeling quite negative. And the only person who can take you out of that rut is you, and your point of view. Sometimes I am feeling negative enough that I seek help from my dear ones, but I realize that no matter what they say or do, it is me who has the power to shift the balance from negative to positive. Same way, sometimes I see my dear ones feel negative and be in a non-ideal place in life and I want to move mountains and bring the moon to the earth just so they can feel better. But beyond a point I can’t make the shift for them. They have to do it on their own. So while there is power in surrounding yourself with positive people, there are limitations to the same. There is only one way out of a negative spot - and that is you. 

No !

Samaira had learned to say yes before she learned to say no. All the kids around me were learning to say no first. And it is so darn cute. Where is the fun in yes? And what is cuter than a baby uttering in their ever sweet voice the word “no”. Very few things, I can promise you that. But here is the catch, it is cute so long it is happening in other families. Samaira did learn to say no, eventually. Now she prefers it to yes. In a lot of ways I am thankful. Thinking that she will say no when she does not want something and it is a very important skill to have. Many of us don't have it. We don't know how to say no. We don't know when to say no. So saying no is important. I really really value no. 

Until it becomes a statement that my toddler chooses to use in response to pretty much everything and anything. Here is what our conversations look like these days.

Me: Samaira

Samaira: No

Me: Samaira, are you hungry? 

Samaira: No

Me: Do you want to play?

Samaira: No

Me: How about we sing a song?

Samaira: No

Me: So what do you want to do?

Samaira: No

Me: Sammy, really wh…

Samaira: Noooooooooooooo

Me: You want no?

Samaira: No

Me: Samaira no

Samaira: giggles

She thinks this is funny. Most of the times it is. But it isn't always funny. Sometimes it is exactly the kind of conversation that will push you over the edge. But those edge moments aside I am proud of kids and people, pretty much all humans, who can say no. 

Like when I tickle Rehan and he isn't feeling up to it, he immediately responds with “No mumma. I don't like it.” It makes me so proud. 

Or like when I am trying to put cream on Sammy after shower and she responds with “No. I don't want to be touched.” While it makes me proud, sometimes the timing could be tricky. In my head I could be saying “Girl, you need this cream on your body. You skin is dry. It is scratchy! Put some firkkiin cream on it.” But she doesn't want to be touched so I follow that. Mostly because she doesn't like the smell or the idea of cream at that point in time. So I talk to her until she feels like putting cream is the right thing to do. 

The point is, Sammy and Rehan love to say no. They make it ample clear. While their timing annoys me sometimes, I am mostly jealous of their ability and alacrity to say no. 

Siddharth is the kind of person who does not hesitate to say no. The reason is because he does not really process yes or no as a yes or no. He processes it as what he wants and what is in his head. What is in his head will invariably be on his lips. Without going through the pre-processing of what it could be interpreted as, the repercussions, the intent, the impact. A no comes out as a no. The reasons of saying no are plain and simple with no extra coating. A yes comes out as a yes. Same logic. 

I on the other hand spend a lifetime pre-processing and two lifetimes post-processing a simple yes or no. Should I say yes or no? Can it be interpreted the wrong way? Will it hurt someone? Will it hurt me? Should I say one way or the other? Is it fair? I don't like to lie. That is a whole another topic I could write about because I have a lot to say about it. But do I feel the need to defend myself when I say no? Yes, I do. And that is the problem. Sometimes I feel like I shouldn't have to defend myself. An unqualified no should be just fine. In reality, I don't think it is. But that's the point. To look away from what is expected and say what you really want to.

It is so much better to be a child (or Siddharth) when it comes to complicated matters in life. A yes means a yes and a no means a no. What is in your heart is on your lips. There is very little to no pre-processing. There is honesty and rawness. It obviously comes with a bunch of side effects. But a part of me prefers these side effects to the fakeness of a yes. A no may be hurtful. But it definitely deserves a lot more respect. 

Not sure if that made any sense. But feel free to say no if it didn't :).

Daily escapes

When your toddler tests your patience every single day, every hour of the day, maybe every 30 min of the day, or maybe every 15 minutes of the day - you need an escape. The good thing is that these same testy toddlers are the ones who have an innate ability to provide you with the much needed escape. Sometimes I feel like I have a live cartoon network channel in my house when kids are around. 

I remember my brother, sister and I loved to watch Tom and Jerry as kids. I finally know now that the makers of the show probably got their inspiration from real life kids. The way they fight, the way they love, the way the annoy each other, the way they bump their heads in the wall trying to run in the opposite direction, the way they think - the whole shabang. I can see how Sammy & Rehan are quite well experienced to play a part in the Tom & Jerry series. I won’t be able to tell who is who though.

Samaira and Rehan are turning into extremely mischievous and naughty kids and I know we are in so much trouble in the upcoming years. In a very weird way, I am looking forward to it. There are times when our kids do something and all we can do is stare at each other with slightly confused and astonished faces and a thought of “what did just happen!” These are the moments that provide us an escape from this (somewhat) evil thing called the routine. 

Well here are some of these escapes that make my heart smile. Yes. My heart smile. Because it is totally legitimately possible to make your heart smile.

Our sleep training is going quite poorly. I know that doesn't sound like an escape, but wait till you hear it all. Firstly, the bright parents that we are, we decided to sleep train our kids at the age of 2 and 3.5. We spend anywhere from 30-90 minutes with the kids in their room playing with them, jumping around, reading books, telling stories, singing songs, chatting, you name it. And then we finally tell the kids it is time to say night-night and mumma and daddy will leave the room. The myriad of reactions at this point include wailing, “no”, “mumma sleep next to me”, no reaction, and a sad face. It is not easy. Ever. I think of giving up every day. There are days I do give up. There are days we don't give up. They cry the minute we leave the room. Sometimes they cry for 5 seconds and sometimes for 5 minutes. More often than not they revert to getting back to un-crying. That’s when their fun begins. They start chatting. It is almost like they need to catch up on the entire day’s events. They pretend to read books (in the dark), they do their own thing, they open and close their wardrobe, they take out the lens of the baby monitor (we keep it on the window sill), they unplug the baby monitor, they sing songs and rhymes, they tell stories. It is kind of fun to hear their conversations. Miraculously, it is probably the only time in the day they don't fight with each other. Leaving aside the exceptions, of course. Because how can they not fight. Rehan is my little happy-go-lucky-rowdy and Sammy is my little-mischief-ball. Rehan triggers a shouting competition. You are probably wondering how? Well, he will shout out loud and then start giggling. Of course Sammy will do that same. So she will shout and giggle. Then he will shout and giggle even louder. That is how he is the instigator of a shouting competition between them. Sammy on the other hand will coax Rehan in other ways. She was ask Rehan “Rehan, do you want to watch TV?” Rehan typically responds with a “Yes.” Sammy tells him what to do next “Call Daddy, and say I want to watch TV?” Clearly Rehan follows the instructions. He shouts “Daddy, I want to watch TV.” When we don’t respond, Sammy shouts “Daddy, Rehan wants to watch TV.” We know what you just did there, missy! Then there are times when Sammy will convince Rehan that he needs to use the potty seat and call for Daddy’s help. He is not even potty trained. He hates sitting on the potty seat. But like an obedient younger brother, he calls for help “Daddy I need to go potty on the potty seat.” Yeah, right! While we are the prime examples of what not to do for sleep training the kids, we find this whole sequence quite entertaining. It can sometimes, only sometimes, compete with our Netflix obsession. So we quit the show we are watching and start watching the baby monitor. It is just as fun, I swear. 

Then there are these weird quirky things that our kids say. If I were to do a count of the things that Sammy and Rehan say the most, the word “fartu” might surface to the top. It has gone from being this socially awkward and unacceptable thing to being a normal, perfectly routine, humorous, borderline pride worthy thing in our family. So when Rehan and Sammy fart, they get really excited. They know to follow it with an “excuse me.” But that is besides the point. They proudly come and announce when they fart. Like we are expected to respond with “good job”. We don't go that far though. You know, keeping things somewhat civil so we don't shock the normal humans who visit us. The new obsession they have, thanks to my sister, is the concept of a fartu kiss. Ladies and Gentlemen, we do not take this lightly in our house. It is a very earnest way to show affection and love. The way it works is I make a fart sound with my mouth when I am kissing my two monkeys. It is a gesture that indicates all is forgiven and we are all in a happy unicorn wonderland with our fartu kisses. There are only giggles and laughters for the 30 seconds after we give a fartu kiss. Of course, what happens beyond that 30 seconds is up for grabs. But at least we get 30 seconds of pure unadulterated laughter and giggles.

I remember when Rehan was less than a year old Sammy would watch me nurse him and she would pretend to nurse her doll, Piku. She would say “Are you hungry, Piku? Let me feed you.” Now Rehan plays with Piku and pretends like she is his baby. Sammy and Rehan care for her like they would take care of a real baby. They pretend to feed her, put her to sleep, change her diaper. They fight for her, which is scary. They throw her away when they are done pretend playing, which is scarier. But if I conveniently leave out the aspect that involves them pulling her apart and throwing her away, there is something extremely zen about watching Sammy and Rehan baby a doll. My little people caring for other little people. Feels like a fairy tale. It doesn't last forever. But I cherish however long it lasts.

I have turned into the mom who keeps telling other people “Oh, you are going to love spending time with our kids. They are so fun.” I have to remind myself that I find them fun because they are my kids. Others could find them annoying or maybe don't care. I don't look at the age or the stage of people when I make this comment either, which speaks to my ignorance in this aspect. In my completely unbiased opinion, my kids are quite entertaining. But hey, they are the ones who have a sense of humor and provide us with the escape. My unbiased love emerges from these escapes. Who can blame me?