We, the parents

Our mind is a very funny organ. It plays tricks on us and molds and bends until the rest of our organs make peace with what is going on. Sometimes we convince ourselves of one thing and the next day of the exact opposite thing, with perfectly legitimate reasoning for either theory. On top of these typical mind games, parents have a mind of their own. Parents are fighters. People may or may not be born fighters, but as parents we all turn into fighters. We fight for our kids. We fight for us. We fight. It is something that our mind does at a very subconscious level. So much so that we do it with a rather natural flare and deem it to be the most natural and obvious behavior of our lives.

Normally, I am a realist. I see things as is. A little too much that way. I make conscious effort to not be in denial, mostly to prevent myself the heartbreak of coming back to reality by an external factor. I’d rather be brought to reality by my own self than something unexpected. So it was an atypical situation in our family when Siddharth was saying something, and I was in denial. For the last several months, Siddharth kept saying that Samaira’s apnea is getting worse. My instant and final reaction to his concern was absolute denial. I always dismissed him by saying that it isn’t apnea, it is congestion. That she is fine. I believed it too. Because I had convinced my mind and the rest of me that she didn’t have any issues. We finally did take her to a doctor and got her sleep study done. I was silently but surely and extremely nervous the day her results were going to arrive. I feared that the doctors would confirm her apnea and will recommend a surgery, which I absolutely did not want for Samaira. So I broke down as soon as the doctor confirmed my fear. In the doctor’s clinic. On our way out. In the parking lot. At work. Then back at home. I broke down multiple times and on multiple occasions. I hated that diagnosis. And over the next few days I did make peace with it and was ready for the surgery. I convinced myself that it will make life better for Sammy. That it is in her best interest. So it is the best thing to do. Then, Sammy spiked a fever two days before the surgery and that would have postponed her surgery. I broke down again thinking that her surgery won’t happen. Underneath all this, I couldn’t believe myself. It was almost unreal how I had gone from fearing her surgery to fearing her no-surgery within a week. My mind had totally convinced me of one way and then the other way. So darn crafty my mind is. Anyway, Sammy did recover from her illness and went through the surgery and was discharged the next day. The bottom line is, that Samaira did phenomenal. She was a trooper. She is acting like nothing happened and life is usual. We want to do what’s best for our kids. While we live in a non-ideal world, our definition of what is best for our kids also keeps changing.

Here is the thing I have realized over the past two or so years. We, as parents, do whatever it is that we have to do to make sure our babies are fine. So when parents fight for their kids’ well-being or survival, it is the most natural and pretty much the only thing parents can do. On somewhat of a side note, I do find it a little odd when people complement parents on being awesome & strong because they fight for their kid. I am normally the one to give benefit of doubt to people. I care more about the intent than about the impact. Normally. Not always. There are exceptions. But the point is that all parents are awesome & strong. Because we all go through the journey of fighting for our kids in our own little and big ways. It could mean fighting so the kids can keep up in school, or fighting with a bully at the park, or fighting with a stranger for an unjust comment, or fighting with the school system, or fighting with allergies, or fighting your child’s sadness, or fighting with an accident that injured your kid in big or small way, or fighting with a fever and cold and cough, or fighting with brain cancer, or fighting with so many other things that we have no control over. Really fighting with anything. We, the parents, fight all the time. We fight with various different things and people. We all fight for our kids. So we are all awesome, strong parents. Simple.

Here is another thing people fight for when they have a tiny tot absolutely and fully depending on them. Themselves. People fight for themselves. Or at least they should. If somebody asked me my biggest fear before I had Samaira, it was hands down losing people I love. What changed after I had my first baby? My biggest fear became losing people I love, including myself. I am somehow more aware of myself, my well-being, after being a mom. I want to lead a longer healthier life and lifestyle so I can be there to take care of my kids. I can’t imagine not being there for my babies when they need me. I fear losing myself.

So, when Heather Von St. James reached out to me regarding her story, I couldn’t help but realize the importance of our health. Heather was diagnosed with mesothelioma shortly after giving birth to her first baby. Heather was given 15 months to live. She is the living proof that miracles happen. It has been a few years and she has lived to tell the tale. I knew nothing about mesothelioma so I started reading up her blog: http://www.mesothelioma.com/. Mesothelioma is caused due to asbestos exposure and I learnt how ridiculously and absolutely pervasive its usage it. It is something that a lot of us get exposed to every single day. My journey to learn more about this condition, its causes, and its consequences has just begun. But the mom gene in me is going to strive to be well. I know we don’t control a lot of it. But there has to be something that we can control, right? We don’t control the consequences. But we control our actions. It is never too late to learn. It is never too late to raise awareness.

It is a new gene, we, the parents acquire. To fight. So let us.

These are some people I fight for

 

My Baby, My Soul, My Whole

 

In the sounds of the whisper that you make at night
In the smile on your face that feels so right
In the gait of your crawl or your hurried walk
In the babbles of your sounds or just the way you talk
In the touch of your hand when you pretend to put cream
In the joy of your feet when you run to a stream
In the free spirit you bring to every moment
In the flare you bring to be a showman
In the innocence of your fights
In the simplicity of your delight
In the fire that lives in your voice
In the effortlessness of how you make a choice
In the honesty you bring to any relation
In the wonderment you show in any creation
In the willingness you show to forgive and move on
In the world you create where bygones are bygones

It is there that I want to live
It that what I want to learn
It is who I want to become

You, my sweet angel, my baby
You teach me every day with everything you do
You have changed my world, my view

You have given me a brand new soul
You have, in fact, made me whole.

Your Mom

Humble and Happy

Some weeks are testier than others. They demand more time. They demand more attention. They demand more commitment. They demand more sacrifice. They demand more compromise. They demand more trust. They demand more faith. If you can keep up though, there is a lingering feeling of joy and your heart does a little bit of a victory dance. But that is not all. I have realized that while the end of a testing period demands a victory dance, it is the tiny little moments of joy during this time that can be more satisfying than the end itself.

This past week was kind of sort of tricky for us. Siddharth was traveling for work. Rehan started to fall sick the day Siddhu left for work. And Sammy was in a full on happy mood…very typical. Most of my last week included not going to work, an unsuccessful attempt at keeping Rehan and Sammy away from each to minimize the exchange of germs, and spending a lot of time cuddling and hugging Rehan!

Here is what Rehan likes to do when he is not feeling well. He obviously likes to lay in bed. But here is the twist. He likes to giggle in spite of his sickness. He likes to roll on my tummy. He likes to fall back on his head. Although he very carefully plans his fall on to a pillow. He likes to communicate in his own “uhh…uhhh…..uhhhh” language. He likes to get up on his knees and throw himself on me. Of course it is up to me to dodge him so he doesn’t hurt himself. This was his journey to wellness. Go figure. So this is what I was doing for the two days that I didn’t go to work this past week. I am surely not complaining.

Now, as per our house rule book, it was Sammy’s turn to fall sick. What can I say? This is how we roll. I have to declare that Sammy is the most adorable when she is a little under the weather. She tends to give me hugs like I need those more than she does. She tends to pat my back like I need healing.  The fact is, I do need her hugs and healing touch more than she needs mine. So we cancelled any and all of our pre-made and un-made weekend plans and spent the entire time cuddling and relaxing and doing nothing.

Sammy did get sudden bursts of energy for a few hours every time Advil came to her rescue. Those were the pockets of the weekend that we spent playing. Any time I turned on my laptop this weekend, Sammy instructed me to ‘close it.´ So we stayed away from devices as much as possible.

Rehan spent most of his weekend destroying every single wire in the house by chewing on it. Alternately, he spent some time taking out all the toys from the shelves and throwing those in some deeply hidden and unknown places in our home. Sammy spent a part of her advil-energized time swaying to rhymes. Some of her time was also spent in her going round and round in circles to ring-a-ring o’ roses. Every so often she would come to me and say ‘hold hand…ring roses…come.’ So I joined her. Once. Twice. Thrice. After about 7 or 8 times of going in circles and falling on the ground and laughing out loud, I have to admit I started getting tired. So then it was Siddharth’s turn to go round and round.

We also spent some time this weekend staring out the window to admire the rain and the clouds and the uszh. Samaira looks out of the window and starts saying ‘and chair…..and trees…..and swing….and clouds….and house…” Yes, she starts her sentences with and. Rehan looks out of the window and in the process smashes his face into it and then he pretends like it doesn’t hurt because it was his idea after all. My favorite thing to do is to look outside the window and admire Mother Nature and then look inside the window to admire the pure sense on wonderment in my kiddos’ eyes. All four of us sat at the edge of the window staring outside, doing our favorite things. 

At some point during the weekend, Siddharth showed me this video that was SO much fun to watch. The title of the video is “This Man Proves You’re Never Too Old To Learn New Moves.” We were completely mesmerized and in awe of this man and his moves. Almost halfway into the video I wondered. I wondered that this man isn’t that old. I wondered that he is not a non-dancer to begin with. In fact he is a phenomenal dancer. I wondered that the lady to the right of the screen is also a phenomenal dancer. Oh, what a joy it is to watch these people dance. While Siddharth and I were busy watching this video – Samaira was staring at us wondering why we are so happy and smiley. Without fully understanding why, she started to smile and laugh with us. Every time she smiled though, she brought her face in front of mine so I could also see that she was smiling. And then she brought her face in front of Siddharth’s so he could see her smile and laugh. My funny girl.

What a fun week. What a great weekend.

The delight of cuddles, and cozies, and looking out of the window, and staring at the cloudy skies, and going in pointless circles, and laughing looking at each other, and lazing around, and doing pretty much nothing…..almost made up for the sick kids. Sickness is never fun. It makes me value health. It makes me value things I otherwise take for granted. It is humbling. But it is possible to steal micro-moments of happiness.

Be sure to do that.



Just before cold & cough took over

 

Our attitude is our luck

“You are lucky that you have always worked in places and things that you love and that you are so passionate about. Not everyone gets to have that, you know.” I said this to Siddharth the other day.

“You are right, but it is not all luck. I work toward loving what I do and it is my attitude that defines how I feel.”

Siddharth has not complained a single day about his work, not one day. He is extremely passionate about what he does. He is always upbeat when it comes to his work. He has never used the word “bored” or “not excited” for his job. I think it is pretty rare.

But when he said it is not all luck and his attitude as well, it very quickly made a lot of sense to me. I can see how my attitude can impact how I feel about my work, and anything for that matter. I can choose to have fun or choose to sulk. I can choose to enjoy my work or choose to be grumpy about things that are wrong. I can choose to fix what is wrong or I could complaint about everything that doesn’t work. I can see that a lot of what I feel is about my choices and my attitude. It is not all luck.

My Dad always says “love your work and you won’t have to work a single day in your life.” I have heard similar quotes many more times in my adult life. While love has never been a matter of choice for me, because it is driven by something so innate in me that no external force can ever drive who or what I love, my attitude does drive my enjoyment level at work and in life.

Just the other day I was talking to my mom about how I don’t like seeing certain people as they don’t make me happy. Although I don’t have a choice but to see them. While I went on complaining for almost 10 minutes, my mom was listening to me very patiently. Here is what she said to me after I was done rambling “Any time I felt negative and down in someone’s company I thought of myself. I thought of myself because other people, their thoughts, their actions, their attitudes are not my responsibility. But I am my responsibility. I have the right to happiness and I am responsible for doing what I can in my capacity to be happy. “ BOOM. Powerful. Mighty. Words.

While I am really really really lucky to be surrounded by some amazing friends, which by the way is super important to me because I live so far away from my family, it is not all luck. My friends is a choice I have made. My luck will take me only so far. For the rest, well, my attitude will once again come my rescue as it determines the choices I make! And that is why my attitude is my luck.


Keep Looking Forward

Keep Calm’isms

I am addicted to these. They attract my attention more than a sign in neon would. The reason I am so in love with Keep Calm’isms is because I really believe in the first two words – Keep Calm.

There are a lot of reasons to keep calm in life, and there are a lot of reasons in spite of which we need to keep calm. Here is my philosophy on keeping calm.

Keep calm and sleep tight. It really is a treasure.

Keep calm and love. That is what it is all about.
 

Keep calm and watch X-Men. Because it blows the mind.

Keep calm and choose Happy. Yes, CHOOSE it.

Keep calm and put your phone away, play with your kids. Without a doubt one of the more important things parents could do for their kids – be present.

Keep calm and write some. It will free you.

Keep calm and eat more. :)

Keep calm during fights. Even though it is easier said than done. I fight with very few people in my life - Siddharth, my mom, my sister and my brother. My Dad never does any wrong, ever. But when I fight I am NOT calm. I have a loooooooooong way to go.

Keep calm and bake some. Cake. Cupcakes. Brownies. Pizza. Anything.

Keep calm and eat French  Macarons. They are special. I have been craving me some macarons for two months now. If Sprungli can't come to me, then it is about time I make some!

Keep calm and climb a mountain. Summer’s here. There are few excuses.

Keep calm and close your eyes, open your mind, let yourself soar. Because you owe it to yourself.

Keep calm and love your family. That’s life.

Keep calm and rock it. Because you are awesome.

Keep calm and do something for the first time. Because that’s a high.

Keep calm and plan a trip. Because planning is half the fun.

Keep calm and learn to swim. Well, I am normally not calm during this one.

Keep calm and read a book. Even if it puts you to sleep.

Keep calm and run around the house with your kids for no good reason. Because there is a method in this madness.

Keep calm and stay fantastic. Of course. What else.

Keep calm and help someone. Even if we have a thousand of our needs in front of us.

Keep calm and say you care. Because it will make someone’s day.

Keep calm and dance with two left feet. Because it is liberating.

Keep calm and watch Ironman. Because you must.

Keep calm and let go. Well, I am not good at this one either.

Keep calm and stop the bullies. STOP.

Keep calm it is just a dog. Seriously.

Keep calm and hug on. Samaira taught us this.

Keep calm and follow Yoda. He is The Yoda.

Keep calm and sing a song. Even if it is in the shower.

Keep calm and accept people. Even if doesn’t seem natural.

Keep calm and smile on. Because it improves your blood pressure, eyesight, health in general. Whatever. Just smile even if there is no reason to.

Keep calm and enjoy a meal. Even if it is accompanied with toddler drama.

Keep calm and just be yourself. Yes. Just. Be. Yourself.

The point is, life will give you a lot of reasons to not be calm. But just be calm. Find your own reason to be calm and happy. If you don't have a reason then make one up. But just be calm and happy. Sometimes I want to cry and yell and be upset and run away. But those are the days I tell myself to calm down because it really is worth it. There are some things that push me over the edge and I find it hard to reach the calm. But for the most part, being a mom is teaching me to be a little calmer every day.

I was telling myself to be calm here...

Live the journey

I am not sure how old I was at that time, maybe 10 or 12 years old, but I very distinctly remember the reason I first wanted to grow my hair out. I wanted to know the feeling of having my braid fall over my shoulder. That’s it. That was the reason. That was my goal. Braid falling over my shoulder. The feeling. I know it is a weird goal and a totally random reason to grow my hair.  So at some point I decided to not cut my hair any longer and let it grow. I took great care of it and did everything that is supposed to improve hair growth. When my hair did grow enough to make a braid and fall over my shoulder, I forgot to “experience that feeling.” I forgot my goal even when I achieved it, but to this day I remember everything I did to achieve that goal.

Here is what happens to me when I am hungry. More often than not, I am so hungry that I don’t enjoy the process of cooking. My entire focus is on quickly putting some food in my belly. I have realized that when I am not over focused on my goal of eating, I do actually enjoy cooking a lot. I enjoy the process of getting ingredients together to make something yum. But that requires me to shift my focus from eating to cooking.

The point is – reaching a certain goal is typically a moment-in-time joy, which, while I hugely value, is drastically different from the joy of being on the journey itself. I do feel that most of my life I have vastly exaggerated the value of destination in my head. I sometimes tend to focus on the destination and success so much that it prevents me from enjoying the journey. The reality, however, is that I do remember instances during which I have enjoyed the journey just as much as, and maybe more than, reaching the goal itself. And those memories are priceless.

What makes this over-emphasis on the final destination worse is the extreme focus on success and leadership. We are hardwired to succeed. To lead. We are taught to value victory and leadership. We are all trying to be successful and be leaders. I often wonder why we don’t talk more about failing and following.

I am secretly (and openly) afraid of failing. I fear failing an interview, a game, a recipe, a relationship, anything. I think of failing as a big setback and something that I never ever want to face. The way I want to start thinking about failure is a step-in-the-way of my journey. Failure is never the end. Not for me. Not for anyone. I am not being extra brave by saying that failure is just a stepping stone and not the end of the world. Because everyone says it. Everyone wants to believe in it. But what I am doing by reminding myself right from the very beginning of ‘failure being a stepping stone,’ is allowing myself to be fearless, be brave, and truly enjoy the journey that I am on. If I consider failure to be just another step then I suddenly feel lighter. My intent is not to get rid of accountability by any means. It is just so I can get a fresh perspective on things that are truly important.

Over the last few years I have had the privilege to study and work among the brightest and the smartest. The one quality that everyone seems to be talking about is leadership. While leadership is a great quality to have and nurture, we nearly don’t talk enough about following. I am by no means trying to diss leaders and leadership. But I do think that the focus on being good leaders has to accompany with being able to follow right.  The reason I am over thinking this aspect of being is because I sometimes wonder about what I would like to instill in my little people. And I am rather convinced that I want them to value and be proud of their failures as much as their success because it indicates their devotion, determination and the strength to try. I want them to value following as much as, if not more than, leading because it indicates the discipline and the attitude that it takes to achieve something while being humble and mature. So yes. Succeed but value failures. Lead but value following.

Allowing myself the freedom to follow and fail has allowed me to enjoy my journey in a way that I haven’t before. This joy of my journey is absolutely priceless.

Well, so far so lovely.

Now let me contradict what I just said. While it is so enjoyable to go through the journey and not hype up the destination, life will bring you at the intersection of journey and destination where you might have to choose the latter. One such intersection for us has been sleep training our kids. It is hard as hell. We are having to do this out of compulsion because there are times when Siddharth has to travel and I am with both the kids. The hardest thing for me during those times is putting Samaira and Rehan to sleep when they are extremely sleepy and cranky but want to keep waking each other up. We question our decision to sleep train, and not sleep train every single day. We are totally confused about the right thing to do. And I sure wish I could get to the final result of sleep-training without having to go through the process of it! This is surely a time when I am not enjoying the journey as I will the destination. Such is the dilemma of being a parent.

So, for everything except for sleep training, I sure hope I live the journey. Destination is so overrated!

 

My happy dance

Sometimes we associate a specific moment, or a specific image, or a specific song with a very specific memory, even though that thing may have little or no resemblance to the memory itself. I hope I am making sense. Because it happens to me a lot.

This evening when all four of us sat in the car to go to a park, I looked in the back seat and saw Samaira looking back at me. In that very moment, I am not sure if it was her eyes or her lips, but something conveyed to me the innocence that lives inside her. That got me thinking how kids are genuinely very innocent at this age. Some kids are naughty and some are not. But people are genuine at this age. Things like biting, snatching, yelling, sneaking are prevalent amongst kids of all age and sizes. But presence of all these traits is not the absence of innocence. What kids feel is what they say or do. Even their slyness is surrounded by certain purity. So when I saw that look of innocence in Samaira’s eyes, I almost gasped and told Siddharth “Isn’t this age just perfection? Kids are so innocent. They don’t harbor negative feelings for anyone. What they have in their hearts is on their lips, or in their actions. I wish I could be a two year old again and be that way even now.” Siddharth responded rather quickly “But I am like that even now.” I couldn't help but tell him "That's because you never grew up." While he said what he did with a little bit of a grin and both of us chuckled and laughed it off, we both know what he said is absolutely true. Siddharth is one of the most genuine and authentic people I have ever met. He is honest, genuine, raw, authentic, and definitely not made-up. He loves his family and friends absolutely unconditionally. He does not love people any less even if they are not being kind (and sometimes that is a euphemism) to him. I don’t know how he does it because I know I cannot do it. Anyway. The point is, I wish I could get that innocence again but I am rather far removed that 2 year old self and not sure if I can ever be that way. And the bigger point is that the happiness and joy of a toddler’s mind can’t be anything but pure. I did a little bit of a happy dance in my heart as this realization hit me.

And now I will associate "me siting in the front seat and looking back at both the kiddos in the back seat" with this conversation about childhood innocence. Forever. Literally.

So while I don’t necessarily have the pure heart of a two year old, I do have the heart to appreciate that purity. And I do have the heart to soak it in.

Here are some other things that made me do a happy dance this week.

Early morning “good mornings” & hugs.

Homemade granola for a good hearty breakfast.

A sunny day.

A sunny day in the park.

Playing in the park under the sun.

A lot of swing time. A little bit of slide time. A little bit of see-saw.

A lot more sun.

And voila – this is how awesome gets to meet fantastic! Here’s to many more happy dances this summer!

 

March 21 2014: World Down Syndrome Day

Every year, the Twenty First day of the Third month celebrates Three copies of the Twenty First chromosome. Today is the day to spread awareness, knowledge, information, wonderment and the joys of trisomy 21. Every day is that day for me. I talk about down syndrome any day, any time, and not just on a specific day or month. We celebrate Samaira every single day. But today is a day that you can make a difference and share a story of someone you know. Today, it is not just the parents of the individuals with down syndrome spreading the word. Each one of us who knows someone with down syndrome gets to tell a story – to a friend, to a neighbor, to a coworker, to a family member, to a stranger, to a fellow-passenger on a bus or a train, to really – just about anyone. Tell a story of someone you know. Learn more about down syndrome. Be curious about it. Ask about it. Let us celebrate 47 chromosomes. Let us celebrate individuals with 47 chromosomes. Let us celebrate their potential, their loves, their passion, their life.

I sometimes think back to the time when Samaira was born. 17 December 2011. I don’t think about it as much now as I used to, but I still do. I don’t even remember how to describe the emotions I went through when we learnt that Samaira has down syndrome. I just remember it being a little surreal, yet very real. I remember being scared. I remember crying. I remember not knowing what to feel. I had to go through all those emotions to get to where I am today. Knowledge about the permanence of a change and a humble new beginning was colossal. This monumental change in our lives changed us as people, to some extent. It made us more open, more welcoming, more appreciative and less judgmental about differences. Samaira opened a whole new world for us that we would have otherwise not known. She opened a whole new world for our family and friends that they would have otherwise not known. It is pretty mighty, if I think about what she has done, and the difference she has made by just being. If it weren’t for Samaira, I am pretty sure I would have been a mom who compared my kids to other kids, who got nervous because my kid didn’t crawl or talk till a certain age, who got tangled in the timeliness of milestones. While there are legitimate concerns and worries that parents have, Samaira allowed me to be a mom that I don’t think I was going to be naturally. I am at a point where I can celebrate the world around me, and at the same time be content with the world within me. I don’t compare my kids. Not even to each other.

When I contrast the world and the worries I had imagined at Samaira’s birth with the reality of my present time – I wish I could go back and tell myself – don’t worry. Really. To not be afraid. Being a mom comes with the package of being afraid, being worried – of the unknown and what could be. But I wish I could go back and tell myself to not be any extra-worried or extra-afraid. If there is something like that anyway. The reality is, I am just as worried about Rehan as I am about Samaira. I am just as afraid for Rehan as I am for Samaira. And I cry just as much when he is hurt or in pain, as I do for Samaira. We do have some things in our lives that come with the 47 chromosome package – we have regular therapy visits, we see a cardiologist for Samaira’s ASD, we see an endocrinologist for Samaira’s thyroid, we see an audiologist to constantly monitor Samaira’s mild hearing loss – to name some. But these challenges seem no more or less than the challenges I have for Rehan. They are different challenges. But their gravity is the same. I realize that apart from my regular full time job, I have another full time job – that of being a mom who worries all the time! I wish I could go back in time to when Samaira was born and tell myself that while there are challenges that are specific to down syndrome, most of my everyday challenges will not be what I was thinking about. My every day revolves more around figuring out what to make for lunch/dinner so that Sammy and Rehan don’t throw any tantrums, chasing Samaira and Rehan around the house while they chase each other, doing grocery/shopping/chores, playing with my kids, dealing with cold/congestion/viruses/rashes/saline drops, making sure humidifiers are clean and functional, kids’ sleep routine, singing rhymes and songs for as long as possible, dropping off and picking up kids at the day care, stealing moments/minutes/hours just for me, taking time out for just Siddhu and me, and, the usual.

A while back I heard from some other moms that they also wake up in the middle of the night just to make sure their babies are breathing. I realized that while Samaira has narrow nasal passages and some degree of sleep apnea, I am not the only mother who worries about their kids’ breathing at night. It brought a degree of normalcy into my worries. What keeps me up these nights has nothing to do with down syndrome, but everything to do with Rehan’s diaper rash that just doesn’t seem to go away. So now I know better. Now I know that both my kids have “special needs”, because they both have needs that are so very specific to them. This is not to say that I don’t think or worry about the future. I have a tendency to think. To overthink. It is an old habit. And an addiction. So I think. I think about what Samaira will be when she is 3, 5, 6, 7, 10, 13, 16, and so on. I wonder about the kind of person she will be, the kind of challenges she will have, the kind of friends/boy-friends/girl-friends she will have, the kind of physical/emotional/intellectual capabilities she will have. I think about it all. I worry about it all. But I try to remind myself of the difference between the perception and the reality of my worries. My worries seem larger than life in my head. Larger than the cause of the worry itself. In reality, these worries are smeared with an ever so slight hint of hope and sanity. These worries tap into an unknown part of my mind and body that gives me the strength to find solutions and plough through any situation. This unknown tap of strength is not something I think about when I worry in a vacuum about this future that will be. And the problem with worry is that its immediate lack of purpose makes it so un-actionable that I worry even more, because all I can do is think. So any time I fast forward and worry about Samaira’s future, I try to push myself back to the present. To what is real. To my current issues, which aren’t what I had imagined 2 years ago.

When I look at Samaira, I see a toddler. A toddler who is extremely loving, pro-hugging, very moody, very very stubborn, sometimes crazy, sometimes lazy, very talkative, sometimes shy, oftentimes friendly, plenty caring, mess creator, surprisingly opinionated (I didn’t know someone could be so opinionated at the age of two!), most of the times attention seeking, a remarkable big sister, and, invariably amazing. When I look at Samaira I know that terrible-twos is not a myth, it is a fact of life. When I look at Samaira I know that nothing in this entire world is a better healer than her melt-in-your-arms hugs. When I look at Samaira I know that she will burst into giggles when I mention Humma Humma (hindi song from the film Bombay). When I look at Samaira I know that she is a person who can’t see anyone sad or crying. When I look at Samaira I know that her lens of life does not count chromosomes, it just looks at people as they are, and accepts them so unconditionally it is not even funny. This is as normal as it gets fellas.

I celebrate this day for my goofball. Happy world down syndrome day, folks!

 

 

Chronicles of our conversations = All sorts of random

Sometimes conversations make more sense in my head. But sometimes then need an out. I have a tendency to not forget things. Sometimes pretty much ever. So I think about our conversations for hours and hours. And they linger in my head. Since I invest so much of my mental energy thinking about some of these conversations, I figured I might as well document some of them so I remember my thought process. There is a whole lot of random in here. Most of these conversations don’t connect. They are just important to me. So here they are. All my randomness in one place.

---

Me: I think we really need to detox
Siddhu: Detox?
Me: You know, phone/technology detox.
Siddhu: Now you are making up your own random rules. We don’t need that.
Me: But, we do. You know I wrote about it a few years back. And I still think about it. Now more than ever.  (This is when I showed Siddharth a blog I had written back in 2009 talking about a smartphone-detox)
Siddhu: (after reading my blog) Now you are just showing off :)!
Me: I totally am. But I am almost very serious when I say this. Seriously. We need to detox. We clearly have issues.
Siddhu: Ok. Let’s set some rules. How about we stay off of our favorite devices when we are around Samaira and Rehan.
Me: I think that’s a good start. Let’s begin with this.

Between the two of us, I am the one guilty of being on the laptop more than necessary, and Siddharth is the one guilty of being on his phone more than necessary. I cannot imagine watching TV without being on my laptop. Siddharth spends any free time he gets, even if it is just 5 minutes, playing games on phone. So the plan is for us to not be on our phone/laptops, especially when we are around our kids. At least not constantly. I have seen Samaira and Rehan be different when we are not on our respective devices. Samaira is a lot more interactive and loving and pro-hugging when we are off our devices. Rehan is a lot more smiley and bouncy when we are off our devices. No joke. I just hope we can keep each other honest about being away from our devices when we are with the kids, and hopefully when we are with anyone in general!

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Me: I really want us to eat dinner as a family. All of us together. Sitting on a table. Eating the same food. No different food for Sam and Rehan and us.
Siddhu: Sure I can bring Taco Bell every single night for all four us :).
Me: I am serious man. It is my dream. A serious dream.
Siddhu: You get serious dreams?
Me: Siddharth pleeeeassse. I am really really serious. (If I have ever told the following words to you, it means that I truly truly love you – “your name, pleeeeease”)
Siddhu: Just kidding. I am down with that. Let’s make it happen. I know how to make it happen!
Me: Really ?! How so?
Siddhu: I will get everything we need (a wooden chair, booster seat, etc.) to seat all four of us at the dining table. And then we will have your serious dream come true J.
Me: What about dinner ideas? I already feel plenty judged for what I feed our kids. But I don’t want to make kids meal a BIG deal either. I want them to eat what we eat. I want them to eat what the either one eats. I don’t want to make 3 different things – one for Sammy, one for Rehan, and one for us. And that’s not because I can’t make 3 different meals. But I don’t think that’s the right thing to do. I don’t care what people have to say about what we feed our kids and when we feed our kids. I want our family culture to be a certain way. That culture is love food, eat well, without making a BIG DEAL of kids’ meals. You know what I am saying? I hope I am not coming across as a bad mom when I say this.
Siddhu: No, you never sound like a bad mom. I agree with you.  

I don’t want to come across as if I don’t like nutrition or healthy food. I love food. That is almost my first love. I like to eat healthy, almost. I like to feed healthy. I try my best to eat and feed healthy. I succeed maybe 50% of the times. But at the same time I love leftovers. I don’t feel bad about feeding leftovers to my family. I love cakes. I love me some Maggi. Just as I love me some spinach and broccoli and brussel sprouts. But I don’t always inject every meal with vegetables and I don’t feel bad about that either. I am at peace with myself. I want my kids to be members of my family and not rulers of my family. I don’t know if any of this is making any sense. It made sense in my head.

---

Me: Do you think we are overparenting?
Siddhu: Is that a real term? What does it mean?
Me: You know…just…if we are parenting a bit much. I don’t know how else to explain it. Like being too fixated with everything our kids do, everything out kids eat, everything our kids are, pretty much everything about them. Not letting our kids just be. You know ?!
Siddhu: …I don’t think we do…sometimes maybe..not too much though. Although I think overparenting is a relative term. According to some people changing anything in their lifestyle at all is overparenting. And according to others we are not doing enough with or for our kids.
Me: True. But I don’t like the idea of us overparenting. So if you ever see me do it, will you stop me? And I will stop you.
Siddhu: <widest grin on his face> :D

I really like my sister’s style of parenting. I want to be like her. I feel like she strikes the right balance of love, nurture, care, let-them-be, strict, scold, time-outs’ish, kids resolving their own differences versus her interfering. She is so cool and doesn’t run behind her kids to finish their lunch/dinner, knows when to revolve her day around kids meals/naps and when not to, lets her kids resolve most differences between themselves, doesn’t take sides when the kids fight, doesn’t even try to find out who is right and who is wrong and who is lying and who is not, and yet, she takes her kids for all the activities they love, she takes them to parks, she loves them so much and it shows, she showers them, she pampers them, and most importantly, she loves them the same! I don’t know how she does it. But I admire her for the way she is with both her kids. She is chilled out yet super-duper-caring. There’s a fine line and I don’t know how she does it.

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Me: You know I don’t like zoos.
Siddhu: Really? How come?
Me: Last time I went to a zoo, I re-remembered why I don’t like zoos. The lion, the tiger, the chimpanzee, the turtle, and every other animal we saw in that zoo seemed really unhappy. They all looked really sad. They were constantly pacing their cage. Maybe they were hungry. I don’t know. But seeing them in that limited space, all caged up, made me really sad.
Siddhu: But how will Samaira and Rehan see animals for real if not for a zoo? Don’t you think they need to go to zoos to put a face to the name?
Me: You are right. I don’t know how else our kids will know. I don’t have a solution. Unless it is going to a safari expedition.
Siddhu: Hmmm….so next time we decide to go to a zoo, I will make sure I take the kids and you can choose not to come along. I don’t want you to be sad.

I know I don’t have a solution for how our kids will see lions and tigers beyond just in books and videos. So I will go with this proposal for now. But the whole idea of zoo makes me uncomfortable. Maybe I have to visit the right kind of zoos to feel ok about it. But for now, I am convinced that I find zoos very depressing.

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So here is our all sorts of random. Stay happy folks!

Good times

How could it not be? We spent most of our February in India with the people I love the most. We were all gathered together for my brother’s wedding. My bhai got married to the most amazing girl I have met in a very long time, A! While my faith in God is somewhat shaky, my faith in destiny is un-shattered. I thank the stars that brought A into my brother’s life and therefore our lives. My trip back home made me realize how much I value these people in my life. I trust them blindly, I love them blindly, I cherish them blindly, and I also yell at them blindly. The last one if the biggest sign of my love. Go figure!

I was shocked by how fast my nieces are growing up. They are big girls now.  They talk big girl talks. They have big girl expressions. They love their cousins beyond belief and I am proud of my sister for making it happen! I was amazed at how ‘at home’ Samaira was when she was with my nieces, and at my folks’ place in India. I saw Samaira walk from one end of the house to another end. Without any supervision. Without any company. Just by herself. She owned that space and I loved it. I loved how Rehan showered everyone with smiles all day long, of course given he was well fed. His smiles almost make up for the sleepless nights we go through because he wants to wake up at least a few times every night. Almost. One of my challenges was getting both my kids to play along during all the wedding events, which they clearly did not. As a result, they were either cranky or missing from all the wedding pictures. Welcome to the world of infants and toddlers, which complies with none other. My biggest regret however was not being able to spend enough quality time with my family. I wish I got just one more day with them, or maybe two, or maybe three or four. Talk about being greedy.

There are people that inherently make you happy. I was surrounded by so many such people that it had a certain kind of effect on me. Here is some more context for what is to follow: Any time I have a surge of positivity in my system I tend to make random and sometimes irrational decisions. So I made one such random decision when I went through so much positivity over the period of last month. You know how sometimes there are certain kind of people who bring you down or bring the negative side in you? I get so influenced by such people’s presence that they bring out the negative in me. And I sure hope I am not the only one who gets impacted by such people. So in my positive state of mind, I decided that I will not let such people bring out the negative in me. The reason why this is an irrational decision is because I have no idea how I will make it happen. I made this decision in an extremely positive state of mind. But I may not always be in such a state. Not being negative was easy when I was high on positivity. It is not going to be easy for me on a day to day basis. Since I made this decision, I have had this inner sense of pride in me that makes me want to not give up on this irrational decision. I just don’t know how to make it happen though. I look at Siddharth and he completely baffles me. He doesn’t feel this kind of negativity for anyone, or because of no one. No One. How is it humanly possible? Although the bigger problem is, he does not understand why it is so difficult for me to be like him. His logic is “Isn’t this the right thing to do? Then why does anything else matter?” for him the theory of it is the same as the practical, which is not the case with me. But that is who I want to become when I grow up. So while I will continue my efforts in that direction, I cannot help but wonder what good times do to me! Hopefully. Someday. I will get there. But there is a chance I won’t. For my own sake, I hope I get their sooner than later.

For now I have decided to bask in the positivity of my entire last month. 
 

THE Wedding - my brother getting married to this amazing girl! We are so lucky to have her in our lives!

My nieces.

My sister & my BIL. All the work they do. All the thoughts they think. All the love they have for us.

My parents. Everything about them.

India. Jabalpur. The green. My parents’ house there.

Noida. Chandigarh.

Songs. Music. Dance.

Lights. Festivities.

Sammy playing 'dholak'. Climbing up the stairs. Walking in the lawn with her hands folded at the back.

Rehan smiling his way into everyone's hearts. Crawling away to glory. Eating like a champ.

Train travel – I have a romanticized version of it in my head and I am always up for a train journey. .

Shopping – thanks to my sister!

People – friends & relatives.

People to be thankful for.

Love.

Good times.

 

You know it when you see it

I felt like eating pasta the other day so I went to QFC to buy some tortellini. As I was shopping in the pasta aisle I saw a father and son duo. They were communicating with each other without talking and from what I could tell they were really enjoying their conversation. So much so that it made me want to be a part of their conversation. There I was standing on the side, looking through the corner of my eye, secretly wanting to get their attention and have them say to me “Hey, come and join us in this conversation.” The Dad was taking different kinds of cheese and showing those to the son and seeing his son’s reaction whether that particular cheese made the son happy or not-so-happy. In fact it reminded me of something called ‘jugalbandi’, a concept in Indian classical music. I know nothing about Indian classical music but I have witnessed jugalbandi between two maestros. It is a form of musical conversation between two artists or musicians in which the two artists play with each other, one after the other. They take cues about the next note from the facial & musical expression of the other artist. It is one of the most expressive forms of communication between two people. The conversation between this Dad and his son seemed like a silent-jugalbandi. The Dad had his eyes firmly planted on his son’s face, watching his son’s every eyebrow, jaw, cheeks motion to read what he was saying. The intensity in the Dad’s eyes was rock solid and transferred warmth, play and so much love. They were like cool kids in school and I was meekly witnessing their coolness. As it so happened, the son in this case was in a wheel-chair and the dad was working on his physical and occupational therapy by letting the son hold string cheese, which works your fine motor skills, and the shopping cart right in front of his wheel-chair, which works on your fingers forming a grip. I took a mental note of these ideas to work on Sammy’s fine motor skills in our everyday chores. Anyway, before I could think of a way to join their silent conversation, the Dad dragged the shopping cart forward to the next aisle, while the son was tightly holding onto the cart and therefore moving along with the Dad. In that two minute window I saw so much, but most importantly I saw a very proud father and an extremely loved son.

On a somewhat different note, I came across this video on someone’s blog.

I bawled my eyes out the first time I watched this video. The second time I watched it, I was giggling at the sister’s reaction, especially when the brother started crying. She had this funny expression of “I love you too, weirdo!”

Be it the Dad in the grocery store, or the brother in this video - I think such pure unconditional love is cool. And you know it when you see it.

This brother sister interaction reminded me of something that Siddharth and I found really amusing the other day. Samaira and Rehan were sitting facing each other and Rehan was playing with a plastic ring.
 

Samaira snatched the ring from Rehan and said “mine.”

Rehan started crying and tried to snatch it back from Samaira. After a couple of tries he was successful.

Samaira took it back from Rehan and insisted “noooo, mine.”

Rehan took it back from Samaira. Again.

This happened for a few times, until Samaira decided it was time for her to play with the train.

While Siddharth and I were witnessing this classic sibling behavior, we couldn’t help but giggle, and honestly feel somewhat proud. I know!! Proud is a strange word to use here. But the normalcy of this behavior between a brother and sister made me feel really proud. Go figure! I know this is just the beginning of years of painful sibling rivalry, and I am pretty sure I might regret this later. I definitely won’t be proud then. But I am relishing the start of this rivalry. Call me crazy! This is one relationship in which you fight with each other like cats and dogs but feel extremely protective at the same time. This is one relationship in which you don’t have to pretend to be nice in front of each other, and at the same time, I haven't seen two siblings say nasty things behind each other’s back. Actually I have seen some siblings do that, and I don’t get it. I truly value the sanctity of sister-brother fights.

Because fighting as much as you want in front of each other, and not saying bad things behind each other’s back takes a special kind of love. And you know it when you see it!

Happy 8 Month Birthday, Rehan!

Why I write

There is an inherent assumption in blogging. That you have something to say.

Some people blog because they, very humbly, feel that they are knowledgeable enough to share their infinite wisdom on a specific topic with the world wide web. They blog because they think they are the experts.

Some other people blog to indulge their creative instincts.

And then some people blog to help other people.

Some blog to stay connected with their friends and family.

Some people blog to make money.

But mostly, people blog because they have something to say.

I have often thought about my reasons to blog. I dislike the air associated with being an expert and therefore I avoid any hint of expertise in my reflection of my reasons. That said, there is a chance I might be in denial about that. I have been blogger since, 2002, I think. I used to blog at another location back in the day. I haven’t logged or peeked into it in ages. I re-read some of my posts from my old blog, and I realized that more often than not, the theme of my blogs had a drift of “I wonder….” It could be wonderment about a phenomena, technology, emotions, songs, and a lot of random stuff. Really really random stuff.

I came across a poem I wrote in August 2009. I am re-posting it here because it still captures me as I am today. So just as a reminder to myself, here it is.

I Think

Fears, undesirable.

Passions, insurmountable.

Ambitions, never-ending.

Jealousy, a part of life.

Faith, enormous.

Greed, nothing wrong with it.

Honesty, a necessary evil.

Challenges, unlimited.

Hope, sometimes.

MBA, a welcomed change.

Love, incomprehensible.

Support, more than ever.

Soul searching, existential.

Past, it’s all here.

Present, yes.

Future, who knows.

Life, good, I think.

I became totally nostalgic reading all my pre-mommy-hood blog entries. I kind of enjoyed re-living it. But most importantly, I realized that most of my writing is really relevant for me even today. I still wonder the same way. I had a whole new appreciation for documenting my thoughts back in the day just as a way to ascertain that irrespective of the events that have occurred in my life over time, I am still the same person at my very core.

I write to remind myself who I am. Why I am.

It is a good reminder.

Magic Happened

It was like some magic potion got added to the air in my home this week and it resulted in unicorns flying around chasing double rainbows. I know! Sounds like crazy talk. That’s because it is.

Here is what happened. Siddharth found some deal on Walgreens to print a 4*6 photo-book. That’s not the magic part. Siddharth is a deal-seeker. His brain is wired to buy things if and only if they are available on a deal. And on the flip side, he does buy stuff that is on deal just because it is on a deal. So it kind of works both ways. Anyway. So there was this deal and he decided to order one for us and give it to me as a surprise. He also wanted to add some text to it, which took multiple days for him to think through and process. In the meantime he lost the deal. He still went ahead and ordered the photo-book along with the text he came up with, 100% on his own. That is kind of a big deal. But I haven’t reached the magic yet. What he wrote in the photo-book is magic. Siddharth wrote one single line at the bottom of each picture in the photo-book and here is what he wrote.

To Us

It started with just me

And just you

I was by myself

And you were too

And then we found each other

Nothing was the same again

My loneliness faded away

A new phase began

Then magic happened

A miracle would join us soon

When she came

We had achieved the moon

Our happiness had no bound

We smiled at her every sound

But it didn't end there

We were blessed some more

He came into our lives and

We were a family of four

Forever in love

Let’s keep memories coming

This is magic! Serious heavy duty magic. Siddharth is not known for his poetic expression. When the photo book came in the mail he asked me to open to see what it was. I opened the packet and started flipping through the pages and reading through the note at the bottom of every single page. By the time I had reached the middle of the book I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't believe Siddharth wrote this for us. It is the most special gift I will get in this entire year! He set the bar so high that he will have a tough time keeping up with it for the rest of the year J.

So this is my magic. It deserved that crazy talk, didn't it? 

These are my happys!

Resolutions, much?

“So I was thinking something”, I told Siddharth the other day.

“Again?”, Siddharth said in his typical humor.

Ignoring his response and carrying on with my serious conversation, “When I think about a new year beginning, I always think about resolutions and goals. And I have a fundamental problem with that.”

By this time I typically don’t wait for Siddharth to respond and just get into a monologue. “Every new year resolution typically means something I want to change about myself. How do I then differentiate between ‘wanting to change something about myself’ and ‘wanting to genuinely improve myself as a person’?”

So here is my dilemma. Whatever happened to ‘you are perfect the way you are’, ‘you don’t need to change one bit’, and so on.  And how do I contrast it with constantly trying to be a better person, a better human, a better mom, a better wife, a better daughter, a better sister and a better friend. Like most people, I definitely believe in the latter. I am going to try my best for Samaira and Rehan to be confident and self-sufficient people. People who feel good about themselves, who they are as individuals, and yet, have the willingness and the strength to improve on their shortcomings. In theory, I understand the principal of staying true to your core. In reality, however, I don’t know if that is always the case if I am trying to be a better person. Like one of my very core attributes is being blunt and rude with people. Some people. Not all. In very specific circumstances. For this particular attribute, it is ok for someone to tell me that I am being unnecessarily rude and I understand the need to improve there. Does this mean that changing my core is a bad thing? Absolutely not. In fact I thank the person who can be honest enough to give me advice on how to be a better person. But at the same time I want to be someone who is not filled with self-doubts. The problem is, how do I know to strike that balance?

I feel like being a mom, every single dilemma becomes twice as big because I worry for myself and my family & kids! I really, really,  hope Samaira and Rehan are satisfied with the people they are, and yet have the willingness to be better people every day. Whatever that means. While right now I am somewhat confused, I am hoping when the time comes and I have to explain this to my babies, I can find the right words and the right message.

I keep thinking about the scenario a few years from now when my kids will go to school and will have other little people as their peers. Being day care babies, they are already at that stage, somewhat. But maybe when they are slightly older and are increasingly becoming more and more aware of their surroundings and themselves. I keep worrying about the time when some other kids might pick on them for walking, talking, looking, eating, etc. a certain way that is different. I am hoping that my kids can come home, feel sad about what happened in school that day, but then have the ability to bounce back and say, “hey, I am perfect the way I am. If they can’t handle it, it’s their loss.” You know. Something like that. And yet they know to be a better person, happy person, with every passing day.

And at this point I know I am just rambling.

All I want to say is that I haven’t really made any resolutions this year. I am going to try to be better and not necessarily be more. Not sure if that makes any sense. But the plan is to embrace the whole me – with all the quirks and all the wows.

 So here is to a quirky & smashing 2014!

Our 2013

Last few days have been tough. First Samaira had a stomach bug. She had it for 48 hours and then she was beginning to feel better. Literally as soon as she stopped throwing up, Rehan started throwing up and showing signs of the stomach bug that Sammy had. His lasted for a day, I think. He seemed to have recovered remarkably in that much time. And just as Rehan began to get better Siddharth started to show signs of illness. The hope is that it will all be ok before soon and I can still do my after Christmas shopping just fine :).

Anyway, with just a few more days to go before 2014 begins, I get flashes of 2013, in a totally filmi way. I sometimes have music playing in my head too. Not kidding. Seriously. I like drama that way. 

I love to write. So I miss writing. I write plenty in my head. Moments happen whether or not I write them down. I try to capture it all in my memory. Sometimes I try to capture things in my memory with the intention of recalling them later. There are two things that I really enjoy from the past – moments & pictures. Therefore I like to document them both. 

It has been a beautiful year. This year was filled with so many specials. It is like a lot of things I had hoped for our family got packaged into one single year. I figured the best way to end 2013 was to package all my memories into one place. 

So here it is. All about my 2013.

We celebrated Samaira’s 1st birthday this year. Well, it was technically in December 2012, but she fell sick. And we had to, had to celebrate it. So we did, a few days later. At this age, birthdays are more for us. She probably remembers nothing of it. It was like it was all for me. Siddharth is more satisfied with smaller, more personal moments. I somehow feel the need to a wider declaration and celebration. So we did that. And I will always cherish it. The day we celebrated my baby turning ONE. 

I spent some time with my nieces in India earlier this year. Spending time with my nieces is always special for me. It was even more special this time around as I got to watch them play with Samaira. They treated her with absolute love, care and compassion. The kind I didn’t think 3 or 5 year olds could possibly have. They surprise me every single time I see them. What I mostly evidently saw was how my sister has made us a very integral part of her family. We live far from each other. We see each other rather infrequently. But we are constantly connected, especially emotionally. I don’t know how my sister has managed to do this, but my nieces think of my kids as their own siblings. They don’t treat them different from each other. They don’t think of my kids as a separate entity from each other. My sister rocks! I love her to pieces! I count on her in ways that even I don’t know. After many many years, my brother, sister & fam, Mom, Dad and us four got together in one single place at one single time. I treasure it. Like my life. I love each of these people like there is no tomorrow. I have this special place in my heart that each of these people occupy. And that special place in my heart is pretty much my entire heart. Yes, I do love them a lot. 

Another massive highlight for us was transitioning to become a four member family. When we had just one child, I thought that was a handful. I thought that it will be very difficult to make room for one more child, who needed just as much, if not more, attention. While there are challenges in taking care of two kids versus one, it kind of just happens. It is not easy by any means. There are sleepless nights, poopy diapers, delayed schedules, overdue task lists, messy rooms, dirty laundry, days/nights when Siddharth has to travel for work, times when both Samaira and Rehan have a stomach bug, dinner/lunch time issues, kids pulling each other’s hair out, you name it. It is messy for sure. For the most part, we are focusing our energy not on fixing the messy home, but going with the flow. The beauty lies in embracing the chaos and yet maintaining what is most important to you. Here is the funny thing though. I have read and heard about people wondering why they would ever want to have kids. They have this perfectly content and awesome life in which they can travel when they want, sleep when they want, pursue all the hobbies as and when they want, eat when they want. Essentially live life how they want. Why then would anyone want to have kids? To have sleepless nights? To take on the additional responsibility of feeding, bathing, diaper-changing, and care taking? The funny part is, I have no response to questions along this line. All I can think to myself is that Samaira and Rehan bring so much joy to our lives. And I can’t imagine my life without their joys. Their one smile, one look, one gesture, one sound, one sigh, most things essentially – it is all worth it. I am one of those delusional parents who claim that their life is incomplete without their kids, in spite of all that comes in the package deal. It is really hard for me to articulate why my life is so awesome. I think the statement of “I have an awesome life with my two kids and one husband” is something that only a fellow parent can fully comprehend. It is not a mythical statement. It is for real. And you can only know it if you feel it for yourself. Until then, feel free to question it :).

Samaira gives Rehan the warmest of hugs. Rehan’s eyes light up when he sees Samaira. Their chemistry is beautiful to watch. Along with this, I also get to witness the beauty of Samaira pulling Rehan’s hair, sometimes just to see how we will react. I get to see Rehan flailing his hands and accidentally grabbing Samaira’s hair and Samaira saying “ouwwiiiee” with a very sad face. Sometimes it takes me into the future in which these two kids will fight like cats and dogs, you know, how typical siblings do. I remember how I constantly fought with my brother and sister. I know how my nieces fight with each other. I like how my sister deals with such situations. Essentially by not interfering and letting my nieces resolve their own fights. Well, most of their fights anyway. I am not sure what I would do when Samaira and Rehan will come crying to me complaining about each other and about how the other person snatched something from them, or pinched them, or took something away. My inherent nature is to interfere. Only with the ones I care, or else I stay out a 100%. But if you are one of the people I care about, I interfere. That’s how I am wired. So to not say one way or the other would be hard. But I really want to adopt that style of letting them be and allowing them to figure out how to resolve their differences, as long as they are not hurting each other.

Another special time in this year was celebrating Diwali with my family after 11 years. It is by far the most important festival I have celebrated growing up. I remember enjoying every aspect of it growing up – the food, the clothes, the light, the fireworks, the people, the family, the traditions, the whole deal. Spending this special festival with my family after so long meant HUGELY to me. I tried to capture the good parts of that evening in my mind so I can relive it over and over again. That’s how I want my every Diwali to be. I wish I could spend it with my family every single year!

We also celebrated Samaira’s 2nd birthday this year! Our darling is all of two. It is unreal. I can’t believe I ever wished for her to say no. That was the time when all Samaira said was “ya” and she didn’t yet have the “n” sound. And now that girl has her n’s and no’s and she knows when to use it. Sometimes when I sing her a song or a story or a rhyme she says no indicating she is all done with it. When she does not want to eat something she says and never returns to it – for that day. She is pretty determined about that. I don’t know how she got to be that way. When she feels like someone is making her do something, she revolts. It has to be her idea for her to do something. She has this personality that I admire and wonder at, all at the same time. When did she grow up so much? She has the compassion of a 20 year old. She can’t see anyone cry or be sick. If I am sick she tries to come and appease me hoping that I will get better. She gives hugs to Rehan whether or not he is in a mood for a hug. She laughs, and I mean laughs, like she means it. It is contagious. It is beautiful. Oh, if only I could capture this in my eyes and heart and mind. 

This year ended with a new tradition that I decided to start in our family. To put up and decorate a Christmas tree. Like almost everyone around me, I am fascinated by the colors, the mood, the festivities, the positivity that this tree brings. I have to confess I don’t know enough about the religious aspect of this festival and this tree. In fact it is something that I don’t really feel the need to delve more into. Because I am happy maintaining a comfortable distance with religion. Not because I am not open to religion but because I feel pretty complete in my thoughts and action without religion. So I love this tradition. The only reason I am starting this now is because I have kids now. It is not that Samaira and Rehan care at this age about a Christmas tree. But I don’t know what it is about having them around that makes me want to start these traditions. I just want to. So we did. It is really pretty :).

And there are some things that I think about all the time. No matter what time of the year it is. Blame my excessive thinking for it. 

Like, for some strange reason, one of the things I did a lot in this year was introspect on the last two decades of my life. Having spent a few years in my 30s gives me a confidence to introspect on my younger days. I spent my teens trying to get attention of people around me. I did a lot of things that if I had a time machine, I would do differently. Most importantly, if I were to go back in time now I want to remind myself of being a nicer person because that is what really matters. I spent my 20s making expectations the big monster I had to fight. All my relationships and friendships and associations were seen through a lens of expectations. Don’t ask me why. The second half of my 20s did bring in some stability in me. Over the last 10 years, I have become a more open person though. And I clearly realize it now that I am in my early 30s. I don’t think I was always this open and accepting to differences around me. I became that way because I learnt this from people around me. I saw people around me not judge when they could, and accept when they didn’t have to. These people were mostly my younger classmates during the Business program I pursued a few years back. It is quite amazing that I finally learnt the importance of accepting when I was finally in my 30s but from these people who were 20 something. I don’t know how these people got their wisdom, especially when I took my own time to learn. I most definitely learn from experience. So I thank these people who taught me to accept differences. As long as something or someone is not affecting my people, I am fairly open and accepting to people’s differences and decisions. I am predicting that I will spend my 40s learning the art of forgetting. I don’t forget. Ever. Literally. It is quite a baggage to carry. So I would really like to get to the point where I can forgive and forget. I realize it is important. I just don’t want to work on it. Not just yet. And all this talk of how old I am just reminded me that next year, I will be just 1 year away from being 35, which in turn is just 5 years away from being 40. Oh dear God!!!! Holy moly pista kaboli (yes, it means nothing and I just made it up)!! I have never imagined myself as a 40 year old. And it is not that far, in a way. Anyway, I will cross that bridge in 2020. 

Another thing that happened in 2013 is that I purchased a lot of clothes for my babies. I have some long running obsession with jammies. I don’t know why that is. But any time I go out to shop – I could look at several different kind of outfits but the thing that I am always compelled to buy for myself every single time I go out to shop are jammies. Given my fixation with jammies, it is no surprise that the maximum type of outfits I purchased for Samaira this year were jammies. Who would have thought? Not even me. But just as I was rearranging our kids’ closet, I realized she has one pair of pajamas for every day of the week, and then some. Quite excessive if you ask me. It didn’t happen overnight. Every time I have to get something for Samaira, I end up getting a pair of jammies in addition. Rehan doesn’t have much of a difference between his sleepwear and awake-wear at this point. So one less thing to think about, for now. But that’s something I am not very proud of. This excess actually repulsed me for a tiny moment. I have had other similar moments in past. Like when I was pregnant with Samaira and was setting up my baby registry – the number of choices we had for every single thing, and I mean every single thing, actually repulsed me beyond imagination. I was determined in my head to buy the least amount of stuff. The stuff that I absolutely couldn’t do without. In that consumerism-rage, I actually ended up not buying some of the stuff I may have potentially used. Anyway. I had a similar sentiment when Samaira was really small. I was determined to not buy excessive amount of toys for her. Whatever I may have thought back then clearly did not hold and you will know why I am saying this when you look at the number of toys we have in our home. With that, I just realized that I spoke of "after Christmas shopping" and "repulsion with excess" in the same post. Oh well.

At least a few times a day, Siddharth and I look at each other, and say out loud – how lucky are we to have these kids ?! How did we come up with this awesome formula, twice! Rehan is the happiest baby. He smiles with his eyes. Kind of like Samaira. He still wakes up crying several times in the night, but when he finally wakes up in the morning, he is comfortably lying on the pillow. Either playing, or looking at me in the anticipation that I will wake up and look back at him. I love that site and it gets my day going. It hurts me when he cries. For now it is in my power, more often than not, to stop him from crying. I sometimes fear for the times that it won’t be in my power to stop him from crying. But that’s a discussion for another day. Rehan is pretty independent. As independent as a 6 month old can be anyway. He can spend an easy hour or so just entertaining himself by chewing on something or rolling around the room or hitting the edges and then rolling back into the center. Without complaining. Kind of makes up for his waking up at night. Not quite, actually. But it is pretty fun to watch him be that way. I haven’t really had the opportunity to scold Rehan yet. But I hate to scold Samaira. I don’t like the look on her face when I scold her. She looks at me like she is asking for help and I am scolding her. I come back to my dilemma of disciplining and how to do it, but I know that dilemma is not going away any time soon. Most importantly, Samaira and Rehan give meaning to our days and hours in new ways. And we value it. We feel fortunate for it. We realize how accepting our kids are toward us – no matter what our words, actions, shape, size, expressions, emotions are. They are them and they like it that way. They know we are us and they like us that way. I wish we could all be kids again. A part of me wishes that the innocence of this age could be retained forever. And there is one more thing I found that Samaira and I have in common, we both swear by Dr. Seuss quotes. One that I can’t get out my head is “Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.” 

So many memories. So much joy. Thank you 2013.