For my own good

My Dad is my biggest hero. A lot of what he says gets etched in my brain. I wish I could capture everything he says in a permanent, easily fetchable pocket of my brain. So I could take out a useful nugget from that pocket whenever I need it. My Dad told me this thing recently. About anger. We all know being angry is less than desirable and it causes us to behave in less than desirable ways. But we focus so much on the negativity that comes with the display of anger that we forget to focus on the root of the problem. The very presence of that anger inside you. People see it when it comes out, and condemn it. But nobody sees it when it doesn't come out. When it stays inside us. When it goes from being a tenant to an owner. That is a much bigger problem than the undesirable display of anger. Because the anger that doesn’t get displayed eats you. The very presence of that anger inside you is what you should keep an eye on. Always.

The thing about anger is that it is one of the worst things that can happen to our attitude and body. It is a bad bad thing. The problem is, we all understand it. We all get it. But we still get angry because it is us being human. But my problem quickly goes from me-being-angry to anger-controlling-me. It decides what I say, what I do, how I behave. Everything. And I have a teeny-tiny problem with this phenomena. With this silly anger controlling me.

The point is to prevent the existence of that anger seed to begin with. Find alternates to be feeling, not just being, angry. The point is not necessarily to succeed in this task. Not 100% of the times anyway. The point is to keep trying. That’s it. In my books, trying is way way way more important than succeeding. Not trying makes me sad. Failure does not make me that sad.

So, how do I prevent myself from getting the angry vibe in me to begin with?

I have always struggled with that thought. What can I morph my anger into? An activity maybe? Sketching. Quilting. Writing. Sleeping. Running. Analyzing. Analyzing what is happening, why it is happening, how to get out of it? Or talking maybe. Talking to someone about what’s getting me to the point of no return. There are so many ways to transform anger into something that is far more desirable. There are so many ways to deal with it and with potentially high chances of succeeding as well.

But getting angry is so much more easier. Why not take the easier way out? Why take the more difficult route of transforming it into something else? Why take the road less travelled? The only reason I keep coming back to it is because the person benefiting the most from this activity happens to be me. If it is something that is doing me so much good then it is probably worth looking into. I understand the supreme importance of investing in myself. So gotta give this one a little more love.

So the next time some inconsiderate driver, who happens to be texting while driving, merges in my lane right in front of me almost hitting me, I will simply slow down. And curb my impulse to honk and flip them and yell “what the **** !?!”  Road rage - not nice.

Or next time my toddler-mutant-ninja-turtles give me some of their action, I will just ignore it or pay no attention to it. Wise people say that the best way to combat the tantrums is to ignore them. Ignoring will ensure that I am not unnecessarily angry and losing my temper at my tiny little angels. 

I am hopeful that I will get somewhere with this attitude.

I do have to give it to Siddharth. He very rarely gets angry. He is a very high energy, on caffeine (when in fact not on caffeine) kind of a guy. On a side note, it comes in really handy when trying to keep up with the toddler energy level. Anyway, back to the point, he is a high energy, high drama kind of a person. But he rarely gets worked up. The actual real worked-up. In which he is angry or upset about something. Rarely happens. I think he is able to do it because he tries to find reason in everything. Well, there lies my problem. He tries to understand why someone did something or said something. He has his bar of “things that are acceptable” and “things that are unacceptable.” But he keeps that bar for himself. Especially because he is high on this-is-the-right-thing-to-do. He does not keep this bar for other people. Not in its true sense. Not enough that it comes in between him and accepting other people as they are. I don’t think I fully get it. But I deeply appreciate it. This one time I told him “they just called you selfish and money minded” or other such untrue adjectives to describe Siddharth’s personality “how can you not be mad ?!” His response completely baffled me in the most positive way because it almost always goes like “What people say describes their state of mind more than it describes me. Their words don’t change who I am . If I get angry then I will be more like them than me. What’s the point in that?”  Makes total sense, Sir. But easier said than done. It is one of the many reasons I respect and look up to Siddharth. He doesn't try to change himself based on what other people say about him. He doesn’t try to fit into their mold. He doesn’t respond to people’s angry-words and that is why he doesn’t get worked up. I think it gives him the ability to be himself. True to himself. Uncomplicated. It is a trait I wish I had. It is a trait I hope our kids have. It is a trait I am extremely envious of. I respect it. I draw a lot of inspiration from him. 

When a day gets windy or complicated and wants to make me throw a fit - not giving in and not getting mad will really help me get closer to the real me. I will try to remember it. Constantly. 

It is for my own good.

Family Time to Rescue...Always

My Positivity

As it turned out, Sammy can use the school bus after all. One way. From school back to home. I have never gone through that drill myself in this country. Or even in India. We never took the school bus because we lived really close to the school growing up. Anyway, so I have never experienced the school bus myself. I believe you build memories in a school bus. Good. Bad. All kinds. Anyway, I digress. On Sammy’s first day of taking the school bus, I was extremely curious. Nervous. Excited. I reached the bus stop 10 minutes early. I took my camera with me. I was thinking that I will capture that moment when Sammy is about to climb down the bus stairs. When the bus stopped, the driver indicated that Sammy is at the back and I should go pick her up. I walked in on a sleeping-Sammy. I unbuckled her from her seat and took her out of the bus. Of course. None of it went as I had planned. She didn’t walk out saying “I’m back!” But it was perfect. The Yellow Bus. Yay!! 

I’m back!

This is what Sammy says when she leaves the room and comes back. With her hand on her chest. Full determination. Anytime of the day. Anyplace in the world. And it stuck. Of all her shenanigans that she effortlessly performed at my parents’ home in India, this is the one that has become a lasting memory for my parents. Now every evening when my dad comes home from work, he says ‘I’m back,’ with his hand on his chest. Like it is a proud moment. And one of extreme importance. Clearly, it is. It replays every single day at my parents’ these days.

Well, so when I held a pen after almost one month and started to scribble on paper, secretly very proud that I haven’t forgotten to write, the first thing I could see flow on paper was ‘I’m back!’. Yes. I can still scribble and form somewhat meaningful sentences with pen and paper. It is a massive relief for me. It is about time.

I have had so much fun this past month. Spending time with the family is one of the biggest luxuries for me. Especially when my family lives so far far away from me. The luxury becomes sweeter with all the fond memories, good food, endless gossip, never ending conversations, and occasional bickering. I miss it so much now and am lamenting under the false pretense of extreme jet lag. I think my jet lag is much worse than Samaira’s, who by the way, is handling this whole thing much better than I am.

So, I’ back. Jet lagged. Wistful. Nostalgic.

Siddharth and Rehan did fly back to Seattle ten days before Sammy and I did. That somehow shocked everyone. ‘Rehan is so young. How will he stay without you?’  Well, these were my questions too. Me flying back with both the kids was not an option, in Siddharth’s mind at least. I think he was secretly worried that a 20+ hour journey with two toddlers all by myself would make me want to run back to my parents and I will never make it back to Seattle. So, well. We decided to do this social experiment, in which Siddharth would team with Rehan and fly back 10 days early. And Sammy and I would spend a few more days in India before flying back. One of the many perks of getting laid off. I was worried because Rehan is somewhat of a mumma’s boy. I am definitely hopeful that it will change. Because I don’t want him to be a mumma’s boy. I want him to be his own boy. But that’s besides the point. The point is, he tends to get really attached to me and does a wee bit of yelling and shouting if he doesn’t see me. Well, little did I know that all my speculations about ‘How will my Rehan do?’ were going to go down th drain. Within a day of reaching back to Seattle, Siddharth told me that Rehan is doing just fine. He is happy. He is eating. He is playing. He is running around. He is excited. He is cranky. He is throwing tantrums. Just as expected. Perfect. I was relieved to know that. But a tiny part of me went ‘Whaat !?! When and how on earth did that happen ?! What happened to all his love and craziness for me ? Already over!!’ I thought I had 5-6 more years before that would happen. But for the most part I was relieved. In fact, very happy. Daddy and Rehan formed a great team. They had a blast. I was so proud. Of Rehan. And of Daddy.

Daddy and Rehan ?!

You know you have been married for a long long long time when you start referring to your spouse as Mom or Dad. Even when not in front of the kids. I have known my parents to do that ever since I can remember. I just saw myself refer to Siddharth as Daddy in a complete sentence. In the absence of my kids. When did I start referring to Siddharth as Daddy? Oh dear! We have clearly been married for a long time. Feels kind of unbelievably unrealistic. But very tangible nonetheless. 

Samaira did miss Siddharth a lot toward the end of the trip. Especially when she was upset and didn’t get what she wanted. She would then cry ‘Daddy, Daddy’ in such a tortured voice that I would start to feel guilty. Of nothing specific. Guilty nonetheless. Isn’t that how it goes though? Unnecessary. Unwanted. Stupid. Guilt. Showing up absolutely uninvited and unapologetic. In our face.

But this made our reunion even sweeter. Four of us at the airport. Sammy and I were filthy, stinking and tired. Siddhu and Rehan were refreshed, excited and patiently waiting. Let me tell you one thing. That phrase ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ is not a myth. It was so nice to see Rehan and his antics in person and not on Skype. It was so so so nice to see Siddhu! Sammy saw Rehan and Siddhu from a distance and ran toward them. Rehan started running toward me. Full speed. I was almost scared that one of us would get injured. As soon as he came close to me, he did not even pause for a microsecond and ran past me. Like that suitcase next to some random stranger was his destination to begin with. You want filmy? We got filmy right in our household. We can deliver. Very soon all four of us were giving each other a very tight, awkward group hug next to the carousel, waiting for our luggage. So warm. So sweet. Our reunion. 

On a completely unrelated note, I have come to a conclusion. Siddharth and I have somehow managed to produce the most rowdy and tantrum-susceptible kids. Anytime we are out in the open or anywhere in the general society, our kids prove it over and over again.The other day, we were at our local grocery store to get some stuff. Sammy decided that she needed to look up some stuff in the toys section and Rehan decided that he wanted to buy some kitchen supplies. Neither of which, by the way, were on our shopping list. I played a slightly selfish card right then and told Siddharth that I was going to finish the grocery shopping (the real shopping) and he should go get the kids. What was I thinking? He somehow managed to convince both the kids to roam around in the furniture section of the store. At least they were within a common zone. They stayed there for full 22 seconds (which might as well be a lifetime in toddler speak) before they decided to run off in opposite direction. Again. This time two kind strangers came to Siddharth’s rescue and helped consolidate our kids. Thankfully I was done with shopping and we were two for two again. Take that kids. But how is it that I always see other kids behaving at least somewhat decently all the time. Remember that ‘somewhat decently’ has a whole different meaning in the world of a parent. These other well behave kids listen to their parents.They hold their parents’ hands in public. As opposed to try to pull away and run off as if we have held them hostage to our parental love and care. They don’t lie flat in the middle of the road to demonstrate their disproval. They don’t sit down in the elevator, refusing to move or be touched just when we arrive at the right floor. In a full elevator, may I add. Thankfully we have kind strangers helping us out and telling us ‘Oh, my kids do this too.’ God bless you kind strangers. 

Siddharth and I have conversations after conversations about disciplining our kids. We are constantly trying to figure out and evolve our parenting style. There is this world of ‘don’t do this,’ ‘don’t eat that,’ ‘don’t touch this,’ ‘don’t say that,’ ‘don’t endless-verb this.’  We have definitely heard about the positive parenting style. About not using the word ‘no’ and other such negatives. Use the reasoning and logic. Why something is not the right thing to do. Etc. Etc. We happen to fully agree with this style too. In theory. But when your child dips paper towel in a glass full of milk, for the third time, just for fun, then that little voice inside you emerges way more amplified than you ever imagined yelling ‘NO.’  Then there is the world of ‘whatever! I don’t care.’  We have clearly been in both the extreme zones of don’ts and whatever. But Siddhu and I always strive to be somewhere in the middle. That thing about picking your battles - no joke, people. No joke. We try to pick our battles with the kids (and with each other :)). 

At the end of the day, however, my Toddler-Mutant-Ninja-Turtles fill me up with so much mush and sappiness that it has got to overflow. In the middle of a scene that most people might refer to as an out-of-hand-mad-chaos, we find our sappy moments. Siddharth and I steal a glance. We smile. Or giggle. Or just laugh out loud. And there is always that sweet little pumpkin of mine, who can come right in front of my face, tilt his head, and say ‘mumma’ in the sweetest voice possible. And then there is my sweet apple-pie who gives me a hug with both her arms around me. A very meaningful, heart-melting hug. If you know what I mean.

That smile. That hug. From whatever it is that I am going. It brings me back into the moment. I’m definitely back.

Sammy at the airport at 3am. That's how she rolls.

Rehan at the railway station...curious

What will I ever do with a genie?

Ever since I was a kid, I had these random whimsical wishes that may or may not have included having a genie or a time machine. There was always that one thing that would make my life perfect. In that moment anyway.

I have always been a last minute person. I would study literally one day before the exams or do my homework one day before it was due. My genie wish in those times would include my homework being magically done or all the subject material magically getting into head and staying there until the end of the exam. Ha. So convenient. I was very sneaky that way. Not that I ever got my wish. But I passed. 

When my younger sister had just surpassed me in height and was turning out to be much taller than me, my genie wish was to grow a few inches taller. That phase lasted for several months.

Anytime I saw a dance or a music competition, my genie wish was to be able to sing and dance. I was always so envious of people who could do either, or worse yet, both. 

And there were times when the going got tough and I would wish for a time machine that could take me into the future to when the trouble was gone, or go back in time so I could fix whatever it is that caused the trouble to begin with. I wanted to be a fixer. That’s right.

Did I mention that I was a realist too? So without any mutant ninja super powers, a time machine or a genie was my only way out.

Oh, well. The things that we do.

I rarely wish for a genie or a time machine now. But hypothetically speaking, unlike the earlier times when I thought it was a real thing, what if I did have a genie or a time machine? What would I really ask for? I had to think long and hard for this one. Absolutely nothing came to my mind for the first 10 minutes. There is nothing in my life that I need a genie for. Whaaat? How did that happen? Is it because I already have everything I need? I don’t think so. Or is it because I feel way above the whole genie and the time machine thing now that I am a grown up, non naive, world adult. Oh God, I hope not. Or is it because I have way too many things to ask for and I could not prioritize? Maybe. I am not too sure. 

Slowly and gradually, some ideas did trickle into my fickle brain. I realized that I couldn’t come up with anything because most of my wishes are small little things. “Everything” is an extremely subjective and strange term. I have everything I need. Mostly anyway. But there is nothing like everything. You can always have more things. And you can always do with less. So what is everything anyway?

But apart from that philosophical rant, here is a list of things I want.

A caramel macchiato at my fingertips. Anytime I want it. I don't (know how to) make it at home so I rely on outside sources if and when I want it. I never need it need it. Yes, I meant to type it twice. To emphasize that I don’t really need it, but just kind of need it.

Oh, and a magical trip to Patagonia with the husband. That would be nice now, wouldn’t it?

Also, a day to sleep in. Till 9. It has happened a few times over the last 3 years, but it is still a rather rare occurrence. So it would still be one of the top contenders in my genie wish list. 

A spa treatment. A 90 minute spa is all I need at the end of a tiring day. And the world will be a perfect, happy, disney place once more.

A night when both kids sleep 12 hours straight. Without crying or making noises or walking up to our room in the middle of the night saying “mumma, daddy.” In the sweetest, most affectionate tone possible. Don’t get me wrong. I love it when my kinds say mumma and daddy with a lot of love and affection. But a 3 am shout out when it is pitch dark everywhere feels more like a scene from Paranormal Activity. 

A day when Sammy will eat vegetables and Rehan will not throw his food to indicate he is done. That dream might stay a dream forever. Maybe Rehan will stop throwing his food when he is a little older. And he will join Sammy in the no-vegetables camp. I have this eerie feeling that might be my reality. 

And then, I ran out of any more ideas of what I want from a genie.

I realized my genie wish list is nothing extraordinary. It definitely does not include being able to sing or dance anymore. I don’t give a rats you-know-what about how tall or short I am either. Especially because 34 years on this planet is just enough time to convince me that by the time you are 34, your happiness will not be derived from your height (weight for that matter) and it won’t matter whether you are 4’10” or 5’10”. Unless of course, you are into basketball. In which case you might get a little bit more anxious about this height thing. I also don’t bother about the time machine during my difficult times. Again, don’t get me wrong. I hate tough times just as much as my next door neighbor. I detest those from the bottom of my heart. But I have realized that I don’t need a time machine for me to get through tough times anymore. I need me and I need Siddhu. And that should do it. Unless of course, Siddharth is the one who is giving me a tough time. In which case, I still need him so I am not yelling at the walls. It is much more comforting if my words are bouncing off of him as opposed to the walls. Unless of course, Siddharth finds my words funny and starts to laugh in the middle of our very serious conversation. In which case, it is not very comforting. 

Given everything, I wonder why would I need a genie at all? The only reason why I will ever need one is in a dire situation. When the whole science and the mankind thing fails, you know. But other than that, I don’t need a bottle phenomena to take care of my wants and wishes. If I do ask for that one burning wish that I need in my life, what will happen after I get it? Will I want more? Or will I achieve nirvaana? Or will I not need anything else ever again? It is a vicious circle. There is no end to it. So what’s the point? And while I was overthinking this ridiculous hypothetical proposition, it occurred to me that this entire genie thing is a big trap. It is meant to transport you to a unicorn world in which closing your eyes is enough make your wildest dreams come true. But, that sounds somewhat similar to this world. Minus the closing eyes part. Close enough. 

The only reason why this exercise is worth it is because it made me think about what is really important for me. And as it turns out, it is coffee. I can’t believe after thinking for 10 minutes the first thing that came to my mind was coffee! Go figure. I was also surprised that my wishes had nothing to do with the well being of my family or my kids. That sounds a tad bit selfish, I think. But hey, it is what it is. I still care for my family. As far as life changing wishes are concerned though, I have trust issues. I think if I really really, I mean really badly, want something, then I can’t really leave it to a genie. So if I want something really badly for my family’s future, or my family wants something really badly for our future, we will work for it. A genie is not going to cut it, my friend. 

I don’t have the power to prepare the world for me and my family. But I hope I have the strength to get us ready for the world. That is just enough. In any case, I don't mind going to coffee shops to get my caramel macchiato, or find a deal for a spa treatment, or maybe, just maybe, one day leave kids with our family and go on a vacation with my best friend. 

My Positivity

Heading from this cold frosty winter to a warm family waiting for us back home. A short trip and then we are back. I cannot wait. My favorite part of course, my nieces.

Saying bye bye to winter for a short while. Will miss you. Kind of. Sort of.

New Beginnings

Our family is kind of beginning to get the hang of all the new things that this new year is bringing to us. Up until last year, Sammy was enrolled in a state provided therapy program called Birth to Three. The day she turned three is the day her therapy transitioned over to our local school district. Starting this year she has a new therapy schedule that is morphed into preschool setting. We have spent the last two months talking about and thinking about this transition for Samaira. We even had the option to use school bus as her means of transportation, which ultimately didn’t work out for us. So for now, my layoff situation is working out really well as I get to drop off and pick up Samaira for an afternoon preschool session. 

The first time we were told about the possibility of a school bus being there to pick up and drop off Sammy, my muscles tightened a little. School Bus. The big yellow bus. The bus that stops the traffic on the road with its blinking red sign. The bus that has been another family’s realty for me so far. The thought of my own child in that bus brought so many emotions in my body. There was fear, apprehension, extreme excitement, and a realization that this kid is going to grow up no matter how much I want to hold on to her childhood. I thought about the logistics, the responsibility, the process and everything to do with a school bus ride for Sammy. I was pretty convinced that Samaira was not quite ready for a school bus just yet. But I was also convinced that there is nothing she can’t learn given sufficient time and patience. I have to admit that I was a tad bit disappointed when the bus option did not work out for us, because I had started getting accustomed to the idea of that yellow bus becoming our reality. Oh well.

For the last two months, my mind had been munching over the transition phase that Samaira will have to go through starting this year. The impending reality did hit me last month when we toured her preschool. Going out in a big bold world is not an unfamiliar situation for Samaira because she goes to a day care. But there is still a different vibe to this new preschool that I can’t quite define. I think it is the yellow school buses that are parked outside. Her new schedule started this Monday. I was not sure how Samaira would take to a new routine, new class, new teachers, new friends, new environment. I wondered if she would be anxious, or shy, or less talkative, or happy, or herself. 

On Monday I told her that we will be going to a new school. I don’t think she quite understood the concept until we got there. All the kids were supposed to stand in a line as the teacher continued to gather all the students together. The teacher told me that Sammy looked fine and I could leave if I wanted to. But I couldn’t let go. Shocking, I know. Behind Samaira’s I-am-fine face, I could see slight nervousness, what-is-this-new-place expression. I was not really concerned about it. It was quite natural for her to feel that way. My only concern was that she is not able to articulate her feelings just yet. How will she tell me that she is liking this new school or not? So I stood there with Sammy in the kids’ line, so she could feel like she belonged. Once all the kids were present, three teachers guided them to the class. I walked with her to the class and had a long 5-10 minutes monologue with her teacher “She isn't familiar with you or the class yet so she will not tell you that she needs to go pee-pee. Can you please ask her periodically? Also, she loves to read books and sing\listen to songs. And…she hasn't taken her nap yet. She may be tired so let her sleep for some time if she wants to. And…she has started stuttering a lot recently so please keep an eye on that. Please let us know when we can talk to the speech therapist about her stuttering. And…Samira loves grapes so I brought some grapes for her to eat. She should be fine for the most part. She likes people.” This went on for a bit until I realized that the teacher had a job to do and she was being polite while I took away her precious time. I think she understood that I needed some comforting. While I was monologuing my way to comfort, I saw Sammy was already inspecting and exploring the new class. She was walking around, looking at the new toys, the new carpet, the new furniture, the new environment. She then found a book she wanted to read and she sat in the middle of the room and started reading the book. I was still talking to the teacher when I saw her do that. 

Suddenly I felt my muscles relax a little. She got this.

I went to her and told her “I am going to leave now. I will see you later. Tell your teacher if you need to go pee pee. Ok?” 

She hesitated for a few seconds and said “Bye bye mumma.” 

I left. I have to admit, with a heavy heart. I don’t know why. I was slightly surprised especially because both Samaira and I are used to her day care schedule. But this was different. I can’t quite tell how. The only four words that somehow explain this feeling remotely are “growing up so fast.”

Today was her third day in this school and I heard her say in excitement “I go to new school. Yayy!!” Her transition was definitely smoother than mine. I am still getting the hang of sending a backpack to the school, feeling of dropping off my daughter at school curb side, picking her up at the end of the school and watching other kids run to their parents. While I am still getting used to this new routine and all these new feelings, I have to say I am kind-of sort-of digging it. I had pictured myself shedding a tear or two on her first day of preschool, but I didn't. I think a smiled a little instead. It just happened. I might have chuckled too. 

We sail in our she-is-more-alike-than-different boat most days. But there are times when I wonder what the next few years will bring for her. She will eventually develop a better understanding of herself, others, her environment, her differences, her similarities. How will she react to it? Siddharth and I have always been confident that our conversation with Samaira, one day, about her diagnosis will be a cake walk. We will tell her as is. We will tell her about the science of it and sociology of it. We will tell her it is all about believing in yourself. It is all about being confident in yourself and knowing that we love her. But we do also know that it isn’t all about that. We know that it may not be a cake walk because it is not all about the glass-half-full view of things. It will also be about experiences that will be far beyond our control. It will be about Samaira’s emotions that will be beyond our control. It will be about how Samaira takes it in and reacts to it, which is also going to be beyond our control. We can foster, nurture, attempt-to-influence. But it ends there. She will consume her surroundings in a way that she wants to and react to it in a way that she wants to. While I keep singing my all-I-want-is-for-her-to-be-happy song, I realize that it is not all about being happy. There will be sadness, disappointment, anger and frustration. I hope that she copes with it. She deals with it. She conquers it. 

But in the meantime, I will try to bring myself to the present, and lecture myself about not worrying about the future so much, and live in the present, and all that jazz. Today is a good day because she is happy. She is excited. She looked forward to her new school. I have to call it a win. Today we win. 

Tomorrow is another day.

Thank you for inspiring!

Non-Theoretically, I figured the new year might as well start from the 5th, because it’s Monday and that makes sense. I know the whole deal about the first, but my 6am logic on the 1st of January decided that I needed a buffer between 2014 and 2015. So the weekend was my buffer. Everything starts from a Monday anyway. I have to admit I was so not ready for everything this Monday was ready to bring on. And I am not even counting my resolutions.  Today was a big day for our family. Samaira started her new therapy schedule today. New year. New schedule. New schools. New teachers. New friends. Too many new things all starting this Monday. So it was a brand new exciting day that I thought I was ready for, but it totally kicked my butt. It gave me the much needed jolt to get started with the new year. Finally. A few days later. But, hey. It is never too late. 

I absolutely loved easing into the new year, no matter how much butt got kicked. I enjoyed picking Sammy up from her day care, dropping her to her school, picking her up from her school, picking Rehan up from day care, taking the kids to the bounce house, bringing them back, playing with them, and just hanging out. I could do this over and over again. 

On a little side note, I don’t have any major resolutions this year. Like most years. It is the same old - to be a better person, to be happier, et al. It isn’t anything new though. These are the kind of things that are always on my hit list. Some of these goals I can achieve, and some I can’t so I keep trying. But these are not necessarily new year goals. These are my year round goals that I keep chasing. Essentially they are my life goals that I am always after.

I am pretty sure that the number one resolution for most people must be around health and fitness. While I was out and about I noticed how much corporations want to tap in people’s new year resolution energy. The front and the foremost section in almost all the stores was activeware. While commercialization of the new year does not excite me, the energy amongst people definitely does. I like to see people resolve to do better things, be better, act better, receive better. I like the positivity a new year brings. I like that vibe. I like to get inspired by people around me. And that is my favorite thing about the new year.

So as I ease into my new year with my family, I am looking around me to soak all the inspiration in. Thank you all for making this year so great already. Keep inspiring!

Frosty, Warm, Inspiring, Loving - A good start to the new year

My Positivity

Today seemed like a miracle day because after shower both kids fell asleep within 20 minutes. So by 8ish. That, my friend, is a miracle. My positivity is when we were watching TV in and suddenly our door opens and Rehan walks in. He squints because of all the light in the room. And then he smiles. Like he did something wrong. Like he did something he wasn't supposed to. As furious as it makes me, it totally melts my heart. After some time he asked “Where did Sammy go?” I responded “Sammy is sleeping.” And he looked at me with utmost sincerity and kept his finger on his mouth and said “Shhhh.” Of course taught by Ms. Sammy herself. But that totally cracked me up. It is all about the small little things.

Happy Memories. From our family to yours.

I am starting to wonder at the number of times I use the word “memories.” It is shockingly - a lot! I live by memories. I live for memories. The only problem with memories is that it means being in past. At least when living the memory. It kind of makes sense how all of my traits are so connected. My affinity toward memories. My inability to let go. My need to reminisce. It is all one and the same. Sometimes it brings happiness. Sometimes, not so much. Two sides of the same coin. While I have this coin going for me anyway, I figured I might as well make the most of it. So sometimes I decide to think of happy thoughts. Only. 

I think I pretty much nailed it this year. Looking back at this year and thinking about all the things that I did and didn’t do - I feel rather content. As I was looking back at the happy times, I realized that none of these were my ego-fuelled king-size moments. In fact, most of my happy moments were tiny little pieces of my everyday mundane life. Shocking, huh!

My happiest memories with Siddharth are when we are sitting and doing nothing. Literally nothing. We don’t have our phones. We don’t have our laptops. There is no TV. There is no agenda. There is no work to be finished. Or at least we pretend like there isn’t. It is when we are just sitting and doing nothing. It doesn't happen as often as I would like it to happen. But it does. And we laugh and giggle for no reason. Siddharth giggles because he manages to annoy me, yet again. I giggle because I know I am not really annoyed with whatever it is that Siddharth did, but it is our thing, so I decide to be angry so we can both giggle. Slightly twisted. But almost everything with us is slightly twisted. Sitting idle and doing nothing requires nothing special, except for us being present. We try.

My happiest memories with Samaira are us sitting and eating dinner at dining table and her announcing “I am happy.” Or us jumping up and down for several minutes and her pausing to say “I am happy.” These are the moments when Siddharth and I look at each other with the expression of “Dang! She gets what it is all about!” My hope is that she retains this understanding. I hope she continues to get it when she is 5 and 10 and 16 and 24 and 34. I don’t know what happens after 34 because I haven’t seen it yet. There are times when she says “I am sad” too. And that makes her “I am happy” declarations that much more precious. 

My happiest memories with Rehan contain no words, no events. I make a memory with him every time he smiles. I am saying this from a very unbiased point of view that is absolutely objective, and has nothing to do with the fact that I am his mum. Clearly. Because I am capable of being so objective and not letting my emotions sway my feelings. Anyway. Coming back to the point. His smile. He throws a toy. He makes a mistake. He knows it. He looks at us and gives us the most mischievous smile that could ever exist on this planet earth. He throws it at us with his puppy eyes and rabbit smile. I was not given the heart to resist this smile. So I don’t even try. Sometimes I am so mad at him that I need to yell and I need him to understand that I am yelling. And then I see his downward pout, with a slight smile peaking through - and out goes my anger. He sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night, walks to our room and when we turn on the light, he smiles at us. I could have been in deep sleep but seeing him smile at 3:45am can make me smile back at him. My memories with him are built of smiles.

I don’t think my words do justice to how blessed I feel when I am with my three bunnies. 

I like sleeping with these three. 

I like waking up with them. 

I like taking road-trips with them. 

I like going shopping with them. Actually, with Siddharth only. Shopping isn’t that productive with my two little monkeys jumping all up and down in the mall. Doesn’t work that well.

I like eating with them.

I like learning from them.

I like getting mad at them. 

I like spending holidays with them.

I like decorating Christmas tree with them. Actually it is more like de-decorating the Christmas tree with the two little monkeys. Every single day. When they decide to pull the ornaments out. Yet, again.

I like to love them.

And just when I think I have nailed it and it can’t get better, there is something to remind me that it is all a work in progress. For example. Just when I thought I have two kids who love each other, hug each other, take care of each other, they decide to pull each other’s hair, push each other, and yell “Go away!!” And just when I think “Oh, no! I jinxed it by thinking about it!” I see a ray of light. For example. When Rehan pulls Sammy’s hair and we ask him to say to sorry to her, he touches her head gently and strokes her. Sammy in turn gives him a hug and says “Rehan, say sorry. Say very very sorry please.” The pain her voice hurts me. But the innocence in her voice is worth it all. And the smile on their faces when they finally hug each other - priceless!

These ups and downs of parenthood - I enjoy. 

We build memories this way. These happy memories is how I recharge my batteries. This charging is absolutely essential for me as it gives me the composure when I am happy and the strength when I am not.

I feel content this year. I just hope I can be content in my no-resolution 2015 also. Happy New Year to everyone and hopefully this new year brings out the best in you!

Peace. From our family to yours.

My Positivity

It is somewhat weird this time.

Just as I was entering a grocery store today, I heard a mom talking to her kids behind me. 

“Kids, this is the last stop. Please do not beg me to get you everything you see in this store. Let us finish this as quickly as possible. And as smoothly.” 

I chuckled. 

In a few minutes as I was getting some cashews, I heard one of her daughters say (no, I wasn’t stalking them) “Can I have this candy please?” 

“What did I tell you when we entered the stored?” 

“Ok fine Mom!”

 I looked back and noticed the mom trying to hide her smile while she was trying to be strict and affirmative.

Hey mom - I hear you! And I don’t know why - I like you and your family. You brought a smile to my face. Although I was trying to hide that smile from you.

Comfort zone, much?

Siddharth and I alternate every month and we each come up with an idea for a date morning\afternoon\night when it is our turn. This month was Siddharth’s turn. A couple of weekends ago Siddharth asked me if I was free the following Thursday afternoon. I sometimes plan stuff like a class or meeting someone for coffee or lunch. But my Thursday afternoon was free. He told me that we will be going for a date-afternoon and the rest will be a surprise for me. Obviously, the suspense was killing me. I like to be surprised but I like to know too. But Siddharth won’t budge. On the day of, I started driving to wherever Siddharth was directing me toward. Few minutes later, we arrived at this sort of boxy but futuristic looking place. The words Renew, Refresh and Revive were written in such large font that I didn't really notice the name of the place. We went inside and were taken to a waiting room and given a standard bunch of papers in which we were supposed to take any liability off of the business. Essentially give our life away. You know what papers I am talking about. The usual. We then watched an introduction video of what we were going to do for the next 60 minutes. 

OMG! I realized why I was giving my life away. The place was a float place. It is some new (maybe not) concept in which you stay inside a super fancy pod filled with 10 inches of water and 800+ pounds of epsom salt. Making the water extremely buoyant. It means that you float automatically when you lay inside the water. As we were watching the introduction, my heart skipped a beat followed by racing at a 1000 beats\minute. 

My reaction was “Jeez Siddharth, you know I have drowned in 2 feet of water not too long ago (there is a story behind it, which I will leave for another day)! Why do you think I will be able to relax in an enclosed pod filled with water in which I am going to stay afloat for 60 minutes!”

“Trust me. It will be very relaxing. You just have to let go.” 

Let go. There you go. My biggest strength, if you get the drift. Just let go. Of my fear of water. 

We go inside the room and I see a minimalistic room. A shower, a bench with towels, and a white pod lit with futuristic blue light. My only question for the guide was “Will you be able to hear if I scream?”

I don’t understand how someone can chuckle at such an existential question, but both Siddharth and our guide managed to do that.

The guide did respond, “You can press this button inside the tube if you need assistance. But I promise you - you will be fine. There is also a fresh water spray bottle in case you accidentally get the salt water on your face or in your eyes. And you have the option to light the tube with yellow light, blue light, or the rainbow lights. I myself stay in this tube with the lights turned off though.”

That helps. Clearly.

The only thing left for me to do before getting into the tube was hi-five Siddharth. So I hi-five Siddharth. He wishes me luck. And because he doesn't need any luck, I tell him to have fun. 

Honestly I felt like Mila Jovovich (go figure!) in one of those sci-fi movies. I have seen way too many movies to feel completely fearless in a white pod filled with water, but I figured I will give it a go. 

I did.

It did take me a good 10-15 minutes to let go of the handle while floating in the water. But once I did, I realized that epsom salt does work. In fact, it works pretty darn well at what it was supposed to do. It was keeping me afloat. Once I was sure I wasn't going to drown, I could relax and let go of the handle.

Much to my surprise, I found myself actually relaxing while afloat in the enclosed tube. I decided to keep my eyes closed but still have the rainbow effect light on so it wasn't completely dark. I also figured I might as well meditate a little to get maximum benefit out of this activity. It is impossible for me to shun thoughts out of my head. There is only one meditation technique that works for me. Focusing on the point between the two brows while keeping my eyes closed. It helps me purge thoughts out of my brain. It works for a few seconds, before it doesn't work. And then I start working on it again. It is a cycle. It takes some time. As soon as I focused on that point on my forehead, all I could see (with my eyes closed) was that my two brows were not in the same line. I am not really sure why that was. 

Oh, the funny things that happen when I try to meditate. 

I do have to agree that it was an amazing experience. So much so, that I might actually want to do it again. I definitely have to give it to Siddhu for thinking out of the box for our date-afternoon. I can hardly think of anything that could top float in a pod. 

I am someone who prefers to be in my own comfort zone. I don't really get out of it. It is interesting how pushing the envelope of our comfort zone reveals aspects of ourselves that we didn't even know existed. I am quite proud of myself for relaxing and enjoying an activity that I am so fearful of.

As kids we tend to be more fearless. We believe more. We expect less. 

I see Rehan and Sammy and I see those qualities. I realize that their innocence is a combination of several qualities including fearlessness & faith. They don't even know that they have these qualities in them. They are quite badass that way. The quality of getting out my comfort zone requires me to be more fearless and to believe more. I wish I had preserved the child in me. But since I did not do that, I can obviously work on getting those qualities back. A tiny fraction at a time. I do have good models around me.

Wonderment. Confusion at parents' obsession with the camera. Innocence. Fearlessness. Faith. Trust. What else?

My Positivity

My little girl turned 3 on December 17. While it is a big milestone for her, it is a bigger milestone for me. She is growing up quite effortlessly. It is me who is struggling with her growing up so fast. She was born just yesterday! 

Three!!

They say it will be a big tide

It will completely change your life

It will change you from inside

Though I am not sure if it is a 100% right

You shine like a star - shiny and bright

It makes me see myself in a clear light

I don’t think I have changed as much

I have stayed pretty much the same as such

I have just realized there is so much more

Than to be victorious and to reach the shore

You helped me learn to stop and pause

For no special reason but just because

Thank you for being born to me

I can’t believe you are all of three!

THREE - How?! When?!

Happy Birthday, my caramel popcorn
Happy Birthday, my double fudge chocolate brownie
Happy Birthday, my french fries

Happy Birthday, my Sammy!

My Curious George