Moments

I sat down to write something a hundred times over the last month and a half and just couldn't stay up long enough to finish writing. So I have at least 10 half-baked posts that I wanted to write in that moment and once the moment passed, I didn't really want to write. It is those little moments of everyday life that I want to capture at times and preserve forever. So much has happened in the last few weeks. My babies are exploding, in the best way possible. In baby-creativity-space-time-continuum, new things emerge every day. These are the things that shift the gears of my day from same ol’ to I frikkin’ love my life. So I figured, I might as well try and remember everything that happened in the last few weeks that I never want to forget.

When Sammy looked at my yoga pants the other day, she shouted nanana, which means banana in her language. At first I thought I had banana remains stuck on my pants. I got up to look for it and clean it and it took me a good 20 seconds to realize that she was referring to the Nike sign on my yoga pants. I have read enough literature to know that kids have a fertile imagination and we adults constantly try to conform them to the things we know and take them away from their imagination. So Sammy’s perception of Nike sign as a nanana makes me a proud mumma. So like a 21st century parent, I responded with positive reinforcement and clapped for Sammy.

Rehan has started babbling in his own international baby language. His favorite words are anganganga, aagggeeee, uhaaaa and so on. While we sing our regular songs and rhymes to him, most fun is talking to him in his language. He laughs and smiles a ton, especially when someone is talking to him. He is an attention seeker. I want to preserve his happiness for a life time. Samaira mimics us and says anganganga when she sees Rehan. It is the sweetest thing ever.

My favorite moments are when my precious interact with one another. Samaira adores Rehan. She gets really bothered when he is not happy or is crying. She constantly hovers around him - kissing him, patting him, and occasionally poking his eyes. Oops. So we have to be quite careful when the sister is hovering over her bhai (brother). I see Rehan smile at Samaira every time he looks at her. I see Samaira look at Rehan with loving eyes. I don’t think she is possessive about him, or us for that matter. Every time Siddharth plays with Rehan, she stares at Siddharth but with admiration and appreciation. She has an expression of happiness when she sees Siddharth play with her bhai.

Samaira loves her naani (my mom) a lot too. My mom wasn't well a few days back and spent a lot of time lying down in layers next to the fireplace. Samaira was not used to seeing my mom like this and was so concerned about her. She would constantly hug my mom, say “hiiiii” and kiss her. Although my mom was trying her best not to pass on the joy to her. Seeing Samaira so concerned with her naani is special and speaks volumes about the emotional relationships she can form.

Bhai kicks like he means it. He has a play gym in which he gets to kick a piano with his feet and it plays music. He musters all the energy in his teeny-tiny 13 pound body and throws his legs toward the piano and BAAM comes the sound that makes him happy. I love his funny giggles and laughs. They seem so meaningful. They do really take my breath away.

Parents often think of leaving their legacy behind. I am not old and wise enough to think about legacy, but I am young and mature enough to think about the future of my babies. The latter is not really a function of age, but more a function of being a mom. If there is one thing I want Samaira and Rehan to be when they grow up is happy, and loving, and respectful of others’ feelings. Well, so it is isn’t just one thing I want. I want many things for them. I have all these wishes for them and their future. I believe in being human. That means accepting all the aspects of human personality. That includes happiness, jealousy, ambitions, acceptance, tolerance, anger, sadness, insecurities, possessiveness and love. So I don’t expect my babies to be these flawless beings who are all lovey-dovey-gently-cuchiii-cooos. I just want them to be happy and nice people. Because everything else will come and go. But their attitude will stay with them.

Samaira is a very loving sister. Rehan is a very happy bhai. Their attitudes build moments for me. They build moments for my lifetime. I am their mumma!

My Bunkeys & My Zen

Samaira says bunkey for a monkey. Like how you would say it if you had a cold or a blocked nose . Samaira switches her m’s and b’s pretty randomly. So for her baby is mama, mama is baba or sometimes it stays mama, and monkey is bunkey. She has an affinity for monkeys, probably because it is one of the words she can say. And maybe because that’s her favorite thing in her room.

Some of my very close friends threw me a baby shower in the month of May, just a few days before Rehan was born. As a part of the shower, they helped to decorate Samaira’s and Rehan’s room. I wanted a jungle theme for that room and my friends gathered all the creativity and love to decorate the nursery and hand pick the right material for clouds, animals, trees, stars, frame, alphabets – everything. They spent the entire day beautifully decorating the room. And the outcome was brilliant!

Notice the monkeys hanging from the trees & peeking through the frame

Ever since Samaira started sleeping in her own room, we spend more time there, especially before she goes to sleep. She gets super excited when she enters her room. She starts looking for her bunkey, she makes the grrrrrr sounds when she looks at the lion, she makes the ummmmhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh sound when she looks at the elephant, and she wants to touch the leaves and the branches of the tree!

When I tell her the story of chinku monkey, binku monkey, pinki mumma and rocky daddy, she wants to repeat the word bunkey after every time I say it! She listens to these stories very intently as if I have a very important story to tell. She smiles. She is amused. She gives me the satisfaction of telling these made-up mundane stories to her. I don’t really get a chance to put Sammy to sleep these days, especially because I am on call 24*7 for Rehan’s feeding. Putting Rehan to sleep is kind of interesting in its own way, at least right now. He sleeps like an angel during the day, and night is when he wants to stay up, and play, and eat.

I sometimes talk and feel like I am the only one on this planet earth to have two kids. I totally realize that is not the case. But I am surprised by how effortless the rest of the world makes it look like. I feel like an utter chaos most of the times. Off late Samaira has started to wake up in the middle of the night and she wants to stay up and play during that time. If she spots Rehan, then any hope of her going back to sleep can be kissed goodbye. She then wants to spend several minutes playing with Rehan.

It was during this utter chaos of a playful Samaira and a hungry Rehan that I found my zen moment. At 1 am. Siddharth was gone for 5 minutes when I had Rehan in my lap as I was vigorously rocking him by shaking my leg, and I had Samaira resting against my shoulders and holding onto my arms as she hugged me. I was singing to Sammy and rocking Rehan and I found my zen. My rainbow. My perfect bubble. My unicorn. Whatever people like to call it. It was perfect. Until, Samaira started to move backwards in our bed, almost fell, as I yelled in panic and freaked her out while grabbing her hand quickly.

Samaira is incredibly sweet with Rehan. At first she wasn’t sure why this baby is not going back to his home, like all other babies do. Then she got used to him being around. Now she is extremely curious about him and seems to adore him. She wants to put him to sleep – she pats him as she says “pap” (her version of “nap”) and sings “aaaaaaaaaa” to him. She caresses him, not so gently though. She runs to him the minute I bring him into the room. She gets really bothered when he cries. She literally goes around him in circles when he is lying on the ground and playing. Watching them interact, as long as she isn’t poking his eyes out, is a zen moment for me.

I totally get transported into this zen when Samaira hugs me. There is something absolutely incredibly warm in the hugs of this 19 month old sister. She gives us hugs when she wakes up in the morning, when she comes home the her day care, right after she knows she has done something we don’t approve of, or pretty much any time she wants. Irrespective of why, the result of her hugs is my heart melting away like it is 150 degrees outside!

Rehan has started cooing a lot more now and he smiles when we talk to him. He responds with a mischievous, sideways smile. He smiles like he completely understands everything I am saying, or singing, or blabbering. He encourages me to talk to him even when I think I can’t keep talking to a two month old who does not understand a word I am saying. Ever since I was a kid, I have seen my mom’s uncanny ability to talk to infants/kids, pretty much non-stop. So much so that I was convinced that she could talk to a rock for hours without getting a reaction from it. But now I understand why talking to infants can come rather naturally to some people. I understand the joy it brings when they respond to what some might think is a one way conversation with an infant.

I always realize my zen when I watch my two babies sleep. I feel like it is the most beautiful site I could witness.

It feels a little weird to be thinking and writing about my zen moments when most of the times I am not in that mode. Most of the times, I am in the exact opposite of my zen, or the unicorn, or the rainbow mode. There is lack of sleep, two babies crying at the same time, two babies hungry at the same time, a hungry me and a hungry Rehan at the same time, messy rooms, un-arranged closets, clutter of way-too-many toys, unfinished rooms, and did I mention lack of sleep. Although it is rather easy to slip into these pockets of zen, I wish they lasted longer. I wish I was more put together the rest of the times. I wish I had everything under control. 

But in the meantime, I try my best to keep a check on my I-am-totally-freaking-out face, smile when my bunkeys smile...because in there is my zen.

If you love somebody, show it…maybe.

My parents have always been very demonstrative in showing their emotions toward us. Even my dad, who says way less and feels way more, has told us time and again that we, his kids, are the center of his world. My mom on the other hand is very vocal and sometimes dramatic about her display of emotions for us. She is too cute about it. So I have grown up in a family where we have always told each other how much we loved them - in words, actions, directly & indirectly - in every which way.

Over the years, I had taken this expressive personality trait for granted. But as I moved away from my family, I started to pay attention to people around me and their family dynamics. Being expressive about ones’ emotions for their family members isn't as common a feature as I grew up thinking it was. In fact, several years ago, one of my friends mentioned to me that my family is overly expressive and somewhat dramatic in sharing our feelings for each other. It didn't seem like a compliment back then, but I can’t imagine growing up any other way.

When we were kids we had a lot of decorative and fancy stuff in the house. But one specific decorative piece that has stayed in my mind till date is a poster of a little boy with puppies around him with text on it that says “If you love somebody, show it…” It was one of my favorite things in our house growing up.

I found the image here

Siddharth and I often discuss and have very different attitude on this topic. Siddharth being his boisterous self is very expressive in a lot of ways. But he doesn't always talk about his deepest sensitive feelings for people, almost ever. I know him really well and both of us understand a lot of what is unsaid between us. But I have also noticed that he is thoroughly misunderstood, and quite unfortunately by people closest to him. These folks don’t think he cares for or loves them as much because he doesn't call them or doesn't do stuff that would show that he cares. I know he cares for them because of his actions toward these people even when they are not around, not listening to him, and not aware of what he has to say. But he refuses to do anything to show them that he does care. He believes that he doesn't have to be a certain someone or someway for these people to love him or feel close to him. While this is an excellent point, I know it doesn't happen that way and people oftentimes need a proof of love. I tell him that maybe he should explicitly show them that he cares for and loves them so that they know it too. But he insists that it would mean that they want him to someone he is not for them to love him, and he doesn't believe that he needs to do that. Siddharth is one of the most genuine people I have met. He deeply cares for his people, no matter what they say or do or feel toward him. He is in fact way more genuine and caring than some people who are very demonstrative in nature. As awful as I feel about him being misunderstood by people close to him, I do agree with his philosophy. And there is nothing I can tell him in response to this thought of not changing his fundamental personality trait so he can be loved.

So I sit here at my home, with plenty of free time while I am on my maternity leave, wondering if it is really important to show that you love someone. While I am all for showing and displaying, I can’t imagine Siddharth being this way. When I got married to Siddharth, I did not have a list of characteristic traits that I was looking for in a man. I never made that list. Nor did I ever make a list of good and bad in him. I don’t work like that and I can’t be that calculative. In fact, I don’t even know what that list could look like. But I do know that I fell for the kind of person he is – the whole package. These eight years of marriage have taught me that there is a lot of give and take in a marriage, a lot of meeting halfway, a lot of 'you change in this aspect' and 'I will change in that'. Once we were committed to each other, it didn't really matter what changes the other person made, or did not make. The changes we made in us seemed worth it because it made our relationship and us as individuals flourish. That said, there are aspects of our personality that remained absolutely unchanged and we both accept each other with all the changes and non-changes.

The thing I would never change about him though is his take on relationships. He loves his people absolutely unconditionally. He doesn't expect anything in return, not even for them to love him back. He doesn't think he needs to be a certain way for them to truly love him back. He may not explicitly show that he loves them, but when it comes to key decisions in life – he stands by them, for them, and with them. I, for one, would love to be loved that way.

This past week we celebrated our eighth marriage anniversary. Since Rehan was mere 30 days old, I didn't really feel like leaving him home alone. Not yet anyway. I also didn't get a chance to buy Siddhu a gift as I haven’t really left our home since Rehan has been born. Siddharth has also been quite preoccupied & busy over this last month as we learn to figure out the logistics with 2 babies in our home! Siddharth made our anniversary super special by cooking my favorite meal for me. That made my day and made up for an excellent celebration for us. Later in the week, I told Siddhu “we are not like a lot of lovey-dovey showy-vowy kind of couples who shower each other with gifts and flowers and stuff in general. Do you think we still have the spark that makes us tick…” Without thinking even for a second, he said that he thought about it too, but in the exact opposite way. He was quite amazed by the fact that we are so comfortable with each other and are so intertwined in each other’s thoughts and lives that we didn't need explicit and overt display to prove our love and 8 years of marriage. He said that we cherish and enjoy simple things in life far more than big major things or events. He is absolutely right. I have made it amply clear that he need not wait for a special occasion to give me gifts ;). So now he doesn't. Our celebrations are more about being there with each other and for each other, and more importantly about small little acts that show that we know what the other person likes and values. We both value our family and spending time with each other :)!

I have no idea how Samaira and Rehan will be in this particular personality trait. But sometime in the last few days I promised to myself, no matter what their attitude in this regard is, whether or not they show and demonstrate their feelings to me – I will love them equally, always. They could be diametrically opposite in their behavior and that wouldn't impact the extent of my love for them, even one bit. And I will show them that I love them both, equally. If I truly love someone, they will know it without an ounce of doubt in their minds that I love them. But that’s just me. I know it doesn't work this way for everyone, and that's ok. 

Holy Moly Diaper Changes!!

Why did nobody warn us?! Why do people not talk about it more? Why is it not the hottest topic of discussion amongst all the parents who have new born boys? Or have I been visiting all the wrong forums?

Diaper changes for boys are drastically different from diaper changes for girls. Fact.

During Samaira’s diaper changes, all I had to make sure was that I have a new diaper underneath the old one before I start cleaning and wiping and changing her. That pretty much would ensure almost no poop & pee related accidents during diaper changes.

Come Rehan’s turn, things are massively different. When Siddharth was changing Rehan’s very first diaper at the hospital, our nurse looked at him and said “your older one is a girl, isn't she?” With a surprised look on his face Siddhu asked “yes, how do you know?” That’s when she showed him the right way to put diaper on boys. That was Aaaa..haa moment for us!!!  Subsequently, we were exposed to this other world of pee-like-you-are-spray-painting while changing Rehan’s diaper. You would think that it will take one pee-spray-during-diaper-change incident for me to figure out the right way to do it. Not true. It took me at least one instance of pee-spray for a several days to somewhat avoid it from happening for the next few days. I tried all permutations & combinations of the order in which I must do things during diaper changes, but tiniest of the window is enough for spray painting. Rehan has done the honor of spraying his pee on our bed-sheet, quilt, pillows, clothes, at our pediatrician’s, in the car, you name it! And when it sprays it really goes far! We go through batches of laundry at a legendary speed now. I tried so many different techniques to prevent it from happening but just at the last moment when everything was done and all I had to do was seal the deal – Rehan decided to pee. At some point, I figured if it is meant to happen, it will. So I decided to risk it every time, not be over-precautious, and accept my fate of being peed on any time it does happen. Until...a friend of mine, AP, decided to gift me this divine product called Peepee Teepee for the Sprinkling WeeWee. What a genius idea! Simple pleasures of life that make you smile! Granted that a lot of times I forget to use it…but whenever I do use it, it totally works!

Peepee Teepee for the Sprinkling Weewee (Picture from here)

I am normally not the kind of person who gives advice to people. That’s not because I don’t want to share my wisdom. But it is because in most cases I assume I don’t have the kind of wisdom that I can preach and advice. So most of the times, I share, but don’t give advice. But next time I have a friend who has a new born boy, especially after a girl – these words of wisdom will definitely be shared. Everyone in this scenario deserves to be explicitly told about the intricacies and nuances of diaper changes and the differences between diaper changes for a girl versus a boy. This advice, I will give. For sure.

For some strange reason, making a public declaration of my deepest personal feelings about diaper changes has turned out to be very cathartic. I feel like I have done my bit. It has also given me the mental space to think about other important things that have happened over the last few days…

…like Rehan’s first month birthday on June 29^th. While he slept through our cake cutting ceremony, Sammy ensured that she massacred the cupcakes sufficiently.

…like Samaira’s new haircut. While we have received all sorts of reactions to her haircut, the underlying theme is that it is taking everyone some time to get used to the fact that Sammy doesn’t have her ponytail anymore…at least for some time!

...like 90 degree temperature in Seattle. It is rare. It is treasured. It is praised. It also gets the flak for being too hot because we Seattle folks are not used to it. It also means that all the stores will run out of fans and air conditioners…whatever they have anyway!

…like our EIGHT year marriage anniversary on June 30^th. Every year brings new joys, new adventures, new challenges, new fears and new experiences! Feel so blessed to share this journey with my best friend!

Younger brother to an older sister.

Different sibling combinations have certain inherent dynamics associated with it. I have often talked about my fondness for the sister-sister combination as I believe this relationship only gets better with different phases of life and is not impacted negatively by additional people in our lives over time. I do have a younger brother as well and I treasure and guard that relationship with my life. I may not talk a lot about it, but it means a lot more to me than I had ever imagined. My younger brother is someone I can talk to, yell at, boss around, pamper, feel protective about, feel responsible for, scold, care for, constantly try to correct/fix, listen to, learn from, love, and most importantly, someone I am very proud of – for the person he is and the way I have seen him stand up for people, things & ideas he cares for!

Now that I have one Samaira and one Rehan, I do often wonder the kind of relationship they will share. To some extent I resign to fate and their individual personalities to govern the dynamic of this relationship. That said, I do understand I can play a role in attempting to somewhat shape that dynamic – successfully or not, will be determined years from now. But I do know that the relationship I share with my siblings is mainly due to the relationship my parents share with us and the relationship they share with each other, in addition to what they tried to teach us about the brother-sister-sister relationship. All my life I have witnessed my parents put our family at the center of their Universe. And that experience governs my relationship with my siblings.

I have a younger sister and a youngest brother. Another side effect of being a younger brother to two older sisters is that he had to re-use some (read most) of our stuff. In a place like India, where gender and color pairings don’t necessarily go hand in hand, it seemed somewhat more acceptable to do so. The pinks and the greens and the blues didn't have any biases or gender-connotations associated with it, not sure if it is changing now though.

A few weeks before Rehan was born, Siddharth and I did have a discussion about which of Samaira’s stuff should we reuse for Rehan. Siddharth was pretty unapologetically clear about reusing almost everything that is in good condition. I had a mental block of not using the pinks and the peaches, mostly because I was a little apprehensive about what people would say. While I knew my reasoning was somewhat flawed, it was kind of hard for me to overcome. So we ultimately settled on not using Samaira’s all-pink outfits for Rehan, but use all the swaddles and blankets that are in good shape.

As a result, we ended up using Samaira’s Aden & Anais swaddles for Rehan, just because they were so good and pretty well maintained. I convinced myself that the dominant color in those swaddles is red and not pink, and it can’t be that bad. But everywhere we go now, mostly doctor appointments thus far, most people end up thinking that we have a baby girl and not a boy – thanks for the non-blue/brown/green colored swaddles for our buddy! This isn't to say that we don’t have blue stuff for Rehan. Rehan has his fair share of blue-color, monkey prints and other neutral colors/patterns. But whatever said and done about the color and pattern stereotypes in most places, I am rather glad that we chose to reuse some of Samaira’s stuff without being blinded by these stereotypes. I like that Siddharth’s head wasn’t muddled with these typecasts because deep inside, even I don’t see any substance in that. I was just more ready to given into the cultural labels. 

So while we swaddle our buddy in reds and peaches, we do have blue too, I swear :) !

My Sweetheart, Rehan :) !!!

Let me put it this way – I think both my kiddos prefer my in-person company over in-my-tummy company.

May 29^th 4:45am: It’s all too vague, yet all too distinct. I wouldn't have known the difference between full-bladder pain and labor pain, if it weren't for my water breaking five minutes after I felt it for the first time. While I made it to my 35 week 5 day mark this time around, my desired delivery date was more like July 6^th (and if you care, you can do the math to figure out how much past my due date I wished I had gone). Oh well. In spite of that, we were quite ready for this to happen so early. We had our bags packed – for the hospital and for Samaira, neatly arranged in the car, for several days. We had talked to our friends about the full algorithm that we would follow to figure out where Samaira would go while we were at the hospital. We had shared Samaira’s full day schedule with our friends so they know what to expect…kind of. Logistically, we were ready for this to happen several days before it was supposed to.

We figured we had at least 5 to 6 hours before our boy would show up since that’s how long it took from water-breaking to actual-delivery during Samaira’s birth. We called our friends R & A, who were going to take care of Sam during our hospital stay and then we headed to the hospital.

May 29^th 5:20am: We were at the hospital by this time, I think. On the drive to the hospital, I was already timing my contractions and they were less than 3-4 minutes apart and about 30 seconds long. Once we were at the hospital, I remember one of the first things I told them was that if I had a back labor then I want an epidural. I had started to feel the pain in my back and no way on earth was I prepared to go through another back labor without any drugs! However, the entire staff at the hospital was busy checking me into the system and was asking me questions about my full name, my allergies, last OB appointment, etc., while my contractions were beginning to get closer and somewhat intense.

May 29^th Sometime between 5:30am and 6am: I don’t remember much of the timeline and the order in which things happened during this time. But I know that our friend A showed up at the hospital to take Sammy away for a few days. I also remember that nurses were attempting to give me an IV for something before they could give me an epidural. The on call doctor had asked the nurses to call her when the baby was ready to come out.

May 29^th Sometime between 6am and 6:30am: I went from 8 cm dilated 10+1 cm dilated and the on call doctor wasn’t going to get there on time, although she was trying her best. The nurses then called an OB from another practice. He decided to stay on the side until he was really-really needed, so he wasn’t stepping over the on-call OB’s shoes. Pretty thoughtful I must say. But not helping me! Needless to say, Siddharth was with me through it all. Can’t imagine things any other way. As I continued yelling at everyone around me to get me the epidural, he was focused on giving me some relief in any way he could. He kept telling me “it is just a matter of few more minutes…before you know it you will have our son in your arms…all you will need is one or two pushes.” Such a nice and thoughtful statement annoyed me a little bit back then and I responded “you keep telling this to me but nothing is happening…I am still feeling the pain...so just stop saying this again and again.” Having been there done that, Siddharth knew to expect this kind of a reaction from me in such circumstances! 

May 29^th 6:37am: Our on-call OB hadn't showed up…but our baby boy’s head definitely had. So the other doctor finally decided to play a more active role as we welcomed our boy in this world!

Obviously this is my version of what happened and what I remember. Siddharth knows and remembers much more. It happened all too quickly for me to process and digest. The nurses put our boy on my chest right away…and I remember saying, at least 5-6 times, “I delivered a baby”. It was almost a cry for my own accomplishment of getting through the last couple of hours. But then I finally focused on him…and I started to cry. His tender skin, vulnerable cry, beautiful eyes, approachable fingers, beautiful lips, and almost an ET like appearance made me fall in love with him like I didn't think was possible. I wanted to squeeze him tight, except his amniotic fluid covered body would slip out of my hands if I tried that. I did fall in love. I felt so blessed. And I felt so relieved!

Relieved…for feeling the way I did. I have rarely articulated the fear of having a boy. But I totally had it. It has nothing to do with the fact that shopping for girls is more fun, or that you can dress them up in all kinds of fancy ways, or the boys have the stereotype of being rowdy and callous, which I understand is exactly what it is – a stereotype, and even if it is true then it is not one of my fears. But it had to do with something I just cannot put in words. I can relate to girls. My sister has two daughters whom I LOVE more & more each day. In fact, my nieces are the first set of kids ever that made me believe that I could really love kids, especially because prior to that I was never a mushy-gushy-kuchi-ku kind of a person around kids. So a boy felt like a totally unchartered territory in every sense of the word. Thank heavens I did not get to choose the gender of my baby. As I stared into his eyes for the first time and for several seconds…I could see how he is a soul that just belongs. Belongs to me. I was ecstatic to be falling in love with him! And to top it all, within the first hour, my little Buddy was already showering me with smiles. I couldn't have asked for more J.

One thing Siddhu and I struggled (I more than he) with was the name. Siddhu had one name picked out for our son even before Samaira was born. I had never fully accepted the name and kept trying to come up with other options. But nothing ever stuck. It just didn't. I couldn't believe how hard it was to pick a boy name! We did have our own way of referring to him before he showed up, most commonly as our Binku monkey. But in that moment of holding our Buddy for the first time, it just felt right to go with the name that Siddhu had picked for him so long ago! So we named our little Buddy - Rehan. It just felt right.

One truth that is truer than truth is that child birth has the potential to bring you closer to your spouse. I experienced it during Samaira’s birth, and I experienced it during Rehan’s birth. I feel like our bond strengthened a little bit more that day.

Life with two kids is clearly very different. We are much more sleep deprived. In these early days post-delivery, most of my focus is on Rehan and getting used to a very elaborate feeding routine several times a day. Siddharth is left to take care of Samaira and any and all paraphernalia. I am pretty sure as days go by, we will find some sort of a rhythm in our little chaotic-world. But that day is not today. There are moments though. Moments that seem to be perfect with nothing to distract from their purity. A beautiful site of Samaira and Rehan sleeping next to each other made it feel like it’s all worth it. Behind my sleepless nights, post-delivery recovery, dark circles, weird eating schedules, and everything else that follows – I am a content mom.

Welcome, Rehan! My sweetheart! Samaira, Siddharth & I love you.

Differences & Acceptance

I am typically sleeping when Samaira wakes up in the morning. Siddharth brings her into our bed when she wakes up and plays with her for a bit. When she looks at me sleeping, she starts talking to me right away. As I wake up and turn to her, she talks to me some more and then she falls on me to give me the warmest hugs I have ever received. No kidding. She does this several times in the morning and the warmth of her hugs is to die for, even on a hot summer day! That’s when I say to myself every single time - ”God she is such an angel and is so loving…please don’t let anything or anyone ever hurt her.”

While I have these thoughts every day, the thing that rarely occurred to me until recently is the reverse phenomena. The reverse phenomena being the case in which Samaira may hurt someone. When we judge someone or resent someone, we have a higher chance of hurting that person. And the thought that occurred to me only recently is that Samaira could hurt someone too.

Most of us are often too quick to judge others. People who are not like us, or do not do things like we do make us uncomfortable. We judge people who don’t think the way we do, or don’t have the same priorities as ours. In fact, I have felt more judged as a parent than ever before – why do we feed Samaira what we do/when we do/how much we do/with what frequency we do, why do we give her certain medicines, why do we not give her certain medicines, why do we attribute all her shortcomings to down syndrome (which, we absolutely don’t), why are we not aggressive enough with her therapies, why are we not potty training her yet, and on and on.

That said, over the last 10 years or so, I have met a few people who have a much higher degree of tolerance and acceptance in them for people and things in spite of these differences. I am not really sure at what point I started to judge, but I have definitely learnt from these people around me to not judge and to accept more. Interestingly, they weren't necessarily older, wiser people that I was learning this from. I have met folks both younger and older than me who have unknowingly taught me the value of accepting with differences. So today I judge less than I did before. This isn't to say that I am above it all and I feel the same way about everyone. Because I don’t. While I judge less, my comfort zone is rather small, and the number of people I trust is even smaller. It takes me months and sometimes years to let someone in my circle of trust. And once someone breaches my trust it is almost impossible for me to ever get back to the same-old. But, even though I may not trust everyone, I judge less.

A lot of times when we meet someone who is stronger, more successful, or more popular than we are, it has the potential to result in jealousy or unexplained non-liking toward that person. There is this whole world of power girls or mean girls who are hugely popular or influential. When I was in high school, there was definitely a set of more influential group of girls that would prevail.

But over the last several years, I have learnt from other (especially) women around me that presence of someone more popular and successful need not be a bad thing, or something to resent. I am not in support of meanness here, but I am in support of women & men who are more powerful and successful than I am. I have met some very smart, successful women who celebrate other women’s success and acknowledge them, as opposed to resent them. These women helped me get over my insecurities and unknowingly taught me to celebrate those who are more successful than me. I am highlighting women over men in this case because it seems to be a bigger issue among women than it is among men. I was never super competitive to begin with, and others’ achievements hardly ever bothered me. But now I truly understand the value of celebrating others, something I did not understand before.

My hope for Samaira is that she will be the one to accept without hesitance and irrespective of circumstances, abilities and differences. I hope that she will not judge or resent others. I hope that she will not be the one to hurt someone. I hope that she will celebrate the differences in her and others and teach someone like me that being different should not necessarily translate into lack of acceptance.

And now on a completely unrelated note – a very Happy Mother’s Day to all the powerful supermoms out there! Siddharth, Samaira and I celebrated this day at our peaceful (at least for some time, until I picked a fight with Siddharth on one of our usual topics :)) & loving home - so special!

Curious eyes & a delicious smile

It is hard to discipline a 16 month old. Samaira has a habit of throwing everything that comes in her hands. I am not sure why that is but it’s applicable to everything including her milk bottle & water cup. Yesterday she asked for her wa-wa (read “water”) while sitting in her high chair. She took a sip from her straw cup and immediately threw her bottle down on the floor. This is a not a unique scenario given her tendency to throw everything. But if she does it when she is on the ground already then she can pick it up and start drinking her wa-wa again. Given that she was restricted in her high chair she expected us to hand her straw cup back to her after she threw it.

In our infinite wisdom we decided that yesterday was the day to discipline her into not throwing things! So we, very sternly, asked her to not throw her straw cup. Multiple times. But to no avail.

Samaira did realize though that she was doing something we did not necessarily want her to do. So after every instance of throwing the straw cup on the ground, she would go silent for 5 seconds, then stare at us with the most curious eyes ever for another 5 seconds and then give a yummy smile to us and expect us to respond with the same yummy smile!

Disciplining can be hard! I kind of wanted to smile back, except I was angry at her for throwing her straw cup on the ground yet again. So I decided to hold my smile back and stay stern. Next time she repeated that I yelled and said “Samaira don’t throw your straw cup. Enough.” This time her curious eyes and the delicious smile were replaced by sad eyes and downward pursed lips. It was such a sad expression and yet there was so much drama in it. Samaira started staring at us with that face and didn't take her eyes off us for a good 15 seconds. We obviously stared back in complete silence.

A part of me just wanted to crack up and burst out in laughter at this overt display of innocent drama. A part of me was sad to see her sad expression and know that she isn't happy. A part of me wanted to stay stern to convey the ultimate message, and the message wasn't I love you. And the remainder of me wanted to give up on disciplining.

We tried to put up a straight face and continued with the disciplining until her sad eyes and downward pursed lips turned into howling and crying for absolutely no reason.

Jeez – how do parents discipline their kids? How do they combat their curious eyes and lovely smiles?

My natural tendency is to over think things. And believe it or not, it does have its pros as well. So when I started to think more about this whole disciplining scenario, I started thinking about the more complex issues that would need disciplining. Then I spiraled into the memories of how my parents disciplined us. More than 90% of the times I would end up being really, really, mad at my parents for not letting me do what I wanted. A lot of those times I would end up crying my eyes out, to the point that they were utterly swollen and almost unrecognizable. What I never realized back then was that it must have been really hard for my parents to see me in that state. I was just being defiant, persistent and maybe, plain old stubborn. I wanted to have my way and my parents decided to take a firm stand in some of those matters. They did choose their battles but I am pretty sure it couldn't have been easy.

Now that it’s my turn to discipline my kid(s), I am not really sure how hard it will be for me to do the right thing. How will I know which battles to pick? How will I know when to set the limits and when to let go? How will I know to strike the balance between letting them learn from their mistakes versus preventing them from making some? How will I react to their sadness and anger? And depending on how my kids turn out, in some cases, how will I overcome their curious eyes and delicious smiles? Hopefully, there will be some guiding force. Most likely my intuition. Probably my mom. Probably Siddharth. Probably my dad. Probably my sister.

Well, here is hoping that at least my two babes will guide me J!

Some smiles for my Friday

There are some things that just make me smile, even if I try not to.

Samaira has a yoga session every week. I take her to this 1:1 yoga session where she practices with her teacher while I sit on the side mat and observe both of them. It is typically an hour long session and I, for no reason at all, am smiling for about 80% of that session. Really, for absolutely no reason. Something about this hour just makes me smile. It is kind of funny how Samaira’s yoga session centers me and brings me into a zen mode.

When I go to Samaira’s day care to pick her up at the end of the day, she gives me the BIGGEST smile ever and waves vigorously at me. That makes me smile.

The thing that has changed over the last few weeks, however, is that Samaira’s toothless smiles have been replaced by her central & now lateral incisor filled smiles. My sister told me only recently, that when her babies had toothless smiles, she used to often wonder what their teeth-filled smiles would be like. Honestly, the thought of Samaira’s smile changing never occurred to me until my sister said this to me. It finally became a reality now that she actually has a couple of teeth coming out! And boy is it different. She has a different smile now!

I really miss her toothless smiles. And that made me nostalgic about the last 15.5 months with Samaira. What else have I taken for granted that will change over time, and that I will miss later on? I wish I could capture it all and preserve it for later. Maybe I should take more photos & videos. We are not a camera handy family. As in, we don’t always have camera ready to capture the everyday precious moments of life. Maybe I should make an effort to be more camera-ready and capture it all! While I am having this monologue, I am internally resolving to capture more of Samaira’s childhood. I think, for me though, a first step would be to experience Samaira’s childhood in a little bit of a more be-in-the-moment state (can’t think of a better word). I feel like in the hustle-bustle of life and work, I sometimes forget to just experience things as they are. 

Ok, so here is a resolution. How about I just try to be more present when I am with Samaira and try to experience all that she is? Once I do that, I will graduate to capturing it all as well. I feel pretty good about my new resolution! Obviously, it is easier said than done! 

But at least it is a happy thought for a Friday, and that makes me smile J.

Peace and Love on this special day

Today, March 21^st, is a celebration day. March 21^st = 3/21 = 3 copies of the 21^st Chromosome. It is the World Down Syndrome Day and we wouldn't have known about it if it weren't for Samaira. Today is the day we celebrate the value, acceptance and inclusion of people with Down syndrome. So I woke up this morning and clapped, with Samaira.

Some facts about Down syndrome - it occurs in one in every 691 live births. Individuals with Down syndrome have 47 chromosomes instead of the usual 46. It is the most frequently occurring chromosomal disorder. Down syndrome is not related to race, nationality, religion or socioeconomic status. The most important fact to know about individuals with Down syndrome is that they are more like others than they are different.

Some facts about Samaira – she is now 15 months old and she totally rocks our world, sometime literally. At first I thought she is this super innocent looking child who can do no wrong. Now she has started giving me this attitude and I feel like I am getting to know a new her. Sometimes I wonder if this is what 15 month age group is like, then what happens during teenage years! She tends to be really moody sometimes. She likes eggs one day and not the next day. And now we have a dozen eggs sitting at home with only Siddharth left to finish them as I don’t eat eggs! She has become very stubborn about her choices off late. In a lot of ways, she reminds me of me. Eeek. That’s scary. But she has still maintained her mischievous grin that could melt my heart, no matter what she has done. The one thing that she teaches me every day is to clap. Every time she thinks she has done something cool – she claps. Every time she thinks someone else has done something cool – she claps. If she sees someone else clapping she has the look of “clap it like you mean it”. So now I clap. I clap to celebrate every little thing, especially with Samaira. She has taught me to use the pause button in life, to enjoy and celebrate every little victory and every little achievement.

So here’s to celebrating today. Here’s to peace and love on this special day. Just because. 

If you are ever curious or have any questions – do let me know! Changing outdated perceptions starts with open conversations with those around us.  

My little girls

A month is a long time to be away from home. We spent this last month vacationing. We spent the first half of the vacation with my in-laws and the second half in India with my folks.

Time flies when you are having fun and loving life and that’s exactly what happened in India! It was a combination of ALL my favorite people – Maa, Daddy, Bro, Sis & fly., and of course the Husband and the Daughter. It was so much goodness packed in so little time that I am left craving for more. I am now missing all the laughter, jokes, arguments, discussions, crying, yelling, dancing, singing, eating, sleeping, gossiping, shopping, you name it!

My nieces, P & A, are the most amazing little girls I have ever witnessed. This was the first time they were meeting Sam. I absolutely loved how they interacted with Samaira. P being the oldest one wanted to play the big sister and assumed the role so beautifully. She kept telling everyone “since I am the big sister, I have to take care of Samaira. She is my responsibility.” P & A kept singing for Samaira till they were totally rhymed out. A being the younger one knew she wasn’t big enough to hold Samaira, but was definitely interested in singing to her and playing with her. Some of these moments are captured in my memory ever since and make me smile every so often, especially when I am by myself. I was even more fascinated to see Samaira respond very positively to my nieces. Samaira smiled every time she looked at them and wondered at them with curiosity.

Now that we are back, I am dreaming about the next time all my girls will get together!

Chinku Monkey, Pinky Mumma, Rocky Daddy & Binku Monkey

My Dad is very creative. He can come up with a brand new story, a joke, a song, a poem, or a rhyme – just in a matter of minutes. My Dad’s favorite story for Samaira is that of Chinku monkey and Pinky mumma. That’s a tradition I decided to continue with Sammy. Every night before she goes to bed, I tell her this story about a Chinku monkey and Pinky mumma. When Siddharth heard it he suggested that we add two more characters to this story. So now there are Rocky daddy and Binku monkey as well. Binku and Chinku are brother and sister. Samaira loves to hear these stories at the end of the day and sometimes sleeps listening to it. These stories include everything that happened in Samaira’s day – going to her day care, playing with her friends and teachers there, going to the mall, playing outside, eating yummy food (which mostly means some combination of quinoa, long guard, lentils – because that’s her favorite) and so on. Somehow, I also talk a lot about bananas and Chinku monkey’s best friend Babbar sher (lion). It is a pre-bed time routine that I absolutely love and treasure. 

My own Chinku monkey turned one in December and we celebrated her turning one in January. I am finally posting pictures of that celebration in February.

As my sunshine grows, she has turned into a talkative, happy, stubborn and zesty little babe. She babbles all day long and can talk to anyone and everyone walking on the streets. Most folks wave back at her and say hi – sometimes I feel like Sammy traps them into giving a reaction. Either way she is happy as long as there are people around and she gets to talk.

And while we ready ourselves for the arrival of Binku monkey in our lives…we are relishing the joy of our only Chinku!

New year on a positive note

Last night I was up for about 3 hours past mid-night, thinking. I do that a lot. It’s a bad habit I cannot overcome.

I was thinking about my 2011. How the biggest highlight for us that year was Samaira, and everything to do with her – her birth, her first cry, her first nursing, how she fought against so many challenges at the hospital, how she would oftentimes smile through it all, how she inspired us to broaden our limited world! What a highlight this little gift was. There was also a low-light that caused Siddharth and me to have endless discussions and arguments for months!

Then I started thinking about my 2012. How the biggest highlight was again Samaira – spending our entire year with this precious gift we received in 2011. It’s been magical, to say the least. There was also a low-light, again, that caused us to have endless discussions and arguments for months.

When I thought about my 2011 and 2012, I somehow thought of the low-lights first. I let them overcome my thoughts for several hours, and not for the first time, probably not the last time either. When I shared my thoughts with Siddharth, his first response was, “Well, what was the best the thing that happened to us in these two years? Samaira. And everything else is way too insignificant and not worthy of being important. Why are you letting it overcome you, when you have Samaira to overcome it?” “Excellent point” – I said. I don’t know why I let that happen.

So my resolve in this new year is to think positive. Positive first, positive last, positive in-between. That might be a bit much, maybe. But I’d take that over the current status any day. I have decided to focus on my highlights, and not on my low-lights. It’s not that I am going to ignore the negativity in life, because I can’t. It’s just that I will not allow it to become bigger than me. I know my 2013 will have a highlight, and chances are there will be some low-light too. I know what I will be focusing on this time.

While talking to a colleague sometime back I told him about our hospital stay when Samaira was born. He talked about his Dad having a condition that came as a shock and how they were figuring out how to deal with it. After both of us had narrated our experiences, neither of us said anything for a good 45 seconds. No, I wasn’t timing. Then he said, “things happen.” Then there was silence for about 15 seconds again. Then he said, “…and the true measure of a person is how she/he bounces back.” It made sense to me. Later that day, I told my brother about this conversation. His reaction was “OMG! This might be my favorite quote of this entire year.”  I asked him – “it’s a pretty good quote, but how come it is your favorite?” His response was “because there is so much power in these two simple words – things happen – that they cover the entire spectrum of what you consider unexpected, life changing, etc., without taking away the magnitude of these events...and still leave hope for what’s next.” I hadn’t thought of this particular angle before. But the shocking realization of “things happen, so what?” rocked my world. And my brother’s J! Anyway, moral of the story is that the positive and brighter side of any coin, will ultimately win. That’s how our world is constructed. And I am in agreement with it. The question is, how long would it take us to get there?

A few nights back, I was skyping with my oldest, longest friend, S. I have known her since I was in 5^th grade (or 5^th class, as we say in India). She has seen me when I was an immature, stubborn kid all through the school years. She has seen me when I was still immature, still stubborn semi-adult in my college years. And she knows me now….more than a decade later…still stubborn, but somewhat mature. We both acknowledged we have changed SO MUCH, and that’s a euphemism. We talked about how we used to fight over the most frivolous things and make a huge deal out of nothing. I remember having gone for a duration of at least a few months of not talking to my closest and best friends in school – because I was adamant about not talking first after a fight. Yes that was me, not too long ago. I was telling her how I wish I could have had all this wisdom back when I was in school, and even in college. I would have seen things in a different light and not wasted our time fighting, and doing other immature things. But there is no way I could have been what I am today without going through every single experience of my last 10ish years. Not a chance! By the way, I may need to have a similar conversation with Siddharth 10 years down the line. You see, growth never stops J ! So as much as I value growth, and maturity, and awesomeness, I realize the importance of going through a not-so-perfect phase or experience.

If I had my very own genie, until sometime back my wish would have been to take away all the hurdles from Samaira’s life and make it smooth and comfortable and beautiful and perfect. But having gone through life – from my teens, to being 20-something, to now – I don’t have any such wish for Samaira anymore.

I am ok with her facing difficulties and challenges in life.

I do however wish her the will and the strength to overcome those challenges, and the ability to look at and enjoy the positive side of life.