March 21 2014: World Down Syndrome Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

Chronicles of our conversations = All sorts of random

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good times

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

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

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

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

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

My nieces.

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

My parents. Everything about them.

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

Noida. Chandigarh.

Songs. Music. Dance.

Lights. Festivities.

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

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

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

Shopping – thanks to my sister!

People – friends & relatives.

People to be thankful for.

Love.

Good times.

 

You know it when you see it

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rehan took it back from Samaira. Again.

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

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

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

Happy 8 Month Birthday, Rehan!

Why I write

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

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

Some other people blog to indulge their creative instincts.

And then some people blog to help other people.

Some blog to stay connected with their friends and family.

Some people blog to make money.

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

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

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

I Think

Fears, undesirable.

Passions, insurmountable.

Ambitions, never-ending.

Jealousy, a part of life.

Faith, enormous.

Greed, nothing wrong with it.

Honesty, a necessary evil.

Challenges, unlimited.

Hope, sometimes.

MBA, a welcomed change.

Love, incomprehensible.

Support, more than ever.

Soul searching, existential.

Past, it’s all here.

Present, yes.

Future, who knows.

Life, good, I think.

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

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

It is a good reminder.

Magic Happened

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

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

To Us

It started with just me

And just you

I was by myself

And you were too

And then we found each other

Nothing was the same again

My loneliness faded away

A new phase began

Then magic happened

A miracle would join us soon

When she came

We had achieved the moon

Our happiness had no bound

We smiled at her every sound

But it didn't end there

We were blessed some more

He came into our lives and

We were a family of four

Forever in love

Let’s keep memories coming

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

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

These are my happys!

Resolutions, much?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And at this point I know I am just rambling.

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

 So here is to a quirky & smashing 2014!

Our 2013

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

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

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

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

So here it is. All about my 2013.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I have a cracker baby

Long long time ago, much before I had Samaira, I was determined not to give crackers to my babies for snacks. I was determined to feed my kiddos fresh fruits and vegetables, and other healthy snacks during non-meal times. Now, I don’t even remember the point at which I made the smooth transition of offering crackers to Samaira. I guess I took comfort in knowing that Samaira liked her broccoli and spinach while she ate crackers. But do babies change or what?!? Samaira, all of 22 months now, and a very picky eater on certain days, absolutely loves crackers! How did we end up this way? She can have crackers for an entire meal – that’s how much she likes them. I now feel silly that I ever wished for a cracker-free kid.

In my pre-Samaira/Rehan days, I had a thing about never yelling at my babies. Now, there are times I just do. Sometimes I yell in pure shock. Sometimes I yell in panic. Sometimes I yell because I fear my babies will injure themselves or others. It’s almost like a reflex. Totally involuntary. But it happens. And I yell.

Before I was a mom, I had this notion that I must teach something new to my kids every day. But most of the days, I don’t focus on teaching them anything new. I just focus on being….with them. I focus on playing with them, reading to them, the same old. I realize that life is not an agenda. Life does not have a curriculum. While I want to do the best for my kids, I also want to, and want them to live life. So, at least for now, most of the days we just live life.

Rehan is all of 5 month old now and in some households, 5 month olds are sleep trained with a somewhat decent schedule in place. I am nowhere close to that. I am nowhere close to getting close…that’s how far I am! Rehan drives his schedule. He sleeps through the night, kind of. He does not wake up-wake up, but starts sucking his thumb while still asleep so I nurse him a couple of times at night. So, as much as I would have liked, I haven’t really been able to sleep train him.

And then there are things that I don’t even try hard enough for. I feed Samaira left overs, just as we eat left overs. And I have no qualms about that. I could live off of left overs. I love left overs. So I feed left overs to Samaira too. Rehan has not started solids yet…but wait till that happens.

There are so many parenting philosophies and it is all too personal a decision. When to put kids in their own rooms, when to potty train them, when to feed them, what to feed them, how much to feed them, when to let them be and when to control them, what medicines to give them, what medicines to not give them, what to teach them, when to teach them, which religion to teach them or not, which myths to sustain and which ones to not, and the list goes on and on and on. I try my best not to judge other parenting styles. I definitely try not to judge other parents. All of us try to do the best we can. The best we know. To the best of our abilities. All of us think we are doing the right thing for our kids. All of us love our kids to bits.

One of the differences I have felt between my pre-kids and post-kids days is that now I know how easily non-parents tend to judge parents, especially with absolutely no prior experience whatsoever. That’s not to say that parents don’t judge other parents, because that happens too. But I now know better. I know now, that it is a beautiful thing to dream a perfect vision of life after kids, life with kids. But it is also a beautiful thing to build your own family-reality. According to your own values. Your own gut. Your own view of the world. Your own situation. Your own preferences. Your own comfort.

What I mean is that I am a very different parent than what I had imagined myself to be. My reality is different from my dream. So even though my baby loves crackers and that’s not something I had envisioned for her, I am cool with it. 

It is the month of October

The month of October is down syndrome awareness month. When I think of creating awareness about down syndrome, I immediately think about how much positivity and support we are surrounded by. When we got Samaira’s diagnosis a couple of days after her birth, all our friends and family had the perfect reaction. I don’t know how they got it so right. I don’t know how they found it in them to react just the right way. They were happy for us, excited with us, they cried with us, they felt our insecurities with us. But none of them were sad. You know, not sad-sad. I don’t know how we managed to surround ourselves with such amazing people with big hearts. While we have the buffer of our friends and family who reacted perfectly, we know it is not the entire reality. There are still people who feel sad for someone who has a baby with down syndrome. There are still people who say “I am sorry” when they hear someone has given birth to a baby with down syndrome. There are still people who say “what’s wrong with him/her”. There are still people who say it is sad to have a baby with down syndrome. There are still people who are insensitive. And we cannot run from that reality. Therefore, we need a down syndrome month. A month to dispel all the myths, to answer any questions, to create more awareness, to sensitize people, and, to create more acceptance. It not only helps individuals with down syndrome and their families, but I believe it makes other people better human beings. So while having a special month to celebrate something you are trying to mainstream seems counter-intuitive, it is very much needed until we get the society to a state of unconditional acceptance and love.

History and time are filled with perceptions about down syndrome – some of which are facts, some are myths and some are result of society’s reaction and attitude toward down syndrome.  Down syndrome is named after doctor John Landon Down, who was first to categorize the common features of people with down syndrome. Dr Jerome Lejeune discovered it as a genetic condition whereby a person has three, instead of two, copies of the 21^st chromosome. In a process called non-disjunction, the two copies of chromosome 21 fail to separate during the formation of egg, resulting in an egg with two copies of the chromosome. When the egg is fertilized, the resulting fetus has three copies of chromosome 21 in each of its cells. It has nothing to do with race, nationality, socioeconomic status, religion or anything the parents did during pregnancy. In the 1980s, the average lifespan of a person with down syndrome was 25 years. People with down syndrome typically have physical and intellectual delays from birth but there is a wide range of abilities within the population that are impossible to predict ahead of time. People with down syndrome are significantly predisposed to certain medical conditions including congenital heart defects, sleep apnea, Alzheimer’s, hearing loss and hypothyroid. There is also evidence of increased risk of celiac disease, autism, childhood leukemia and seizures. Most online and otherwise resources list some common physical traits of down syndrome such as flattened appearance on face, high/broad forehead, upward slant to eyes, smaller nose, small ears, protruding tongue, short neck/hands/legs and poor muscle tone. There are certain stereotypes associated with down syndrome – that they are happy, loving, angels. Sometimes it is true and sometimes it is not. People with down syndrome are people. So sometimes they are happy and sometimes they are sad. Sometimes they are loving and sometimes they are feisty and quarrelsome. Sometimes they are angels and sometimes they are little devils. Just a couple of decades ago, parents and doctors preferred to institutionalize a baby with down syndrome. A lot of traits such as lower IQ, low life expectancy and lower-perceived abilities was a result of this inhuman practice. As more and more people are becoming aware and sensitive and accepting –early intervention programs, medical care, quality educational programs, stimulating environment, positive attitude of parents and society have made the outlook toward and reality of down syndrome a drastically different one. Life expectancy of an individual with down syndrome has gone up to 60, average IQ level has gone up, the quality of life has gone up. People with down syndrome attend school, work and contribute to society in meaningful ways. While a quick search of down syndrome will bring results of physical features typically associated with down syndrome, very rarely but surely, you will come across resources that talk about the beautiful Brushfield spots in their eyes, their perfect eyebrows, their beautiful silky hair, and their warm irresistible hugs.

Something that all the people in the special needs community know is the difference between “normal” and “typical”. The opposite of normal is abnormal. Opposite of typical is atypical. So when you refer to a kid who does not have special needs as normal, it implies that the other kids are abnormal. Whereas referring to them as typical, the preferred way, means others are atypical. Referring to a baby/person as down’s baby (incorrect usage), or down syndrome baby means you are defining a baby with this condition. Whereas referring that individual as a person or baby with down syndrome means that they are people first and then the condition. This is called people-first language. Chromosomes decide physical and intellectual traits of beings. A certain type of chromosome gives people blue eyes, or blond hair, or dark skin, or tall height. But there is more to them than the color of their eyes, their hair type, their skin color and their height. Just the same way, three copies of 21^st chromosome decides certain physical and intellectual traits in people with down syndrome, but there is much more to them than just those traits.

Samaira is almost 22 months old now. I cannot believe how time flies. When she was born, she was the most peaceful baby. Share rarely cried. She slept through the night. She showered us with smiles. She had the most beautiful, innocent eyes. She had rather calm demeanor. She always gave me the most body-melting, heart-mesmerizing hugs. She ate everything and anything I gave her – broccoli, spinach, flax-seeds, and spicy Indian food. As she is growing older, she is adding more colors to her personality. She isn’t always her charming self, but most minutes of the day she is. She does not always sleep through the night – it depends on how she is feeling and if she is congested. She still has the most beautiful and innocent eyes, but with a touch of naughty. She has learnt to say no, and with a lot of meaning behind it. So she says no when she does not want to give me a hug, and I respect that. She yells and screams and shouts when things don’t go her way. She is picky about what she eats. She doesn’t eat spicy food anymore because she was given non-spicy food immediately after Rehan was born and now she is resistant to spices. She is still very warm and affectionate. She still gives the most breathtaking hugs. She loves her baby brother immensely. She pours her heart out on him. She does not like it if he is upset or crying. She rocks him in his car seat and Shhhhhhhs him when he is crying. She is quite a performer. When she knows there are people around here, she reacts in one of two extreme ways. She either starts crying and wants to get away from the crowd, or she gets in the center and wants to laugh every time others in the room laugh and play the adult. She talks a LOT. She blabbers all day long. She loves to read books. She loves to dance to her toy-music. She loves her some crackers. She requests Siddharth to sing the song Humma Humma (from the Indian movie Bombay). Samaira loves going to her day care. In fact she looks forward to it. She has her own social circle there. She wakes up in the morning and says morning mumma. She loves being bounced on the ball. She loves it when Siddharth holds her upside down in the air. She pretty much enjoys anything that involves doing monkey business.

What I am trying to say in so many words is - it really is ok. It really is no big deal. It really is just an extra chromosome. 

Siddharth and I are not too sensitive about the people first language. I don’t always correct someone who refers to their child as normal or refers to my baby as down syndrome baby. I didn’t know the difference between normal and typical before Samaira. I don’t know if I would have referred to someone as a down syndrome baby before Samaira. It’s hard for me to imagine what I would have done. So I am ok if people don’t always use the right language. I do care about people’s intent though. I care that their heart is in the right place. I care that they care about Samaira. I care that they love Samaira unconditionally. I care that they treat Samaira with affection, tenderness, discipline and dignity. I grew up in a family in which we did not do things because that’s how society does it. My parents gave us the best education and the best opportunities at every stage in our lives, even if it defied societal-norms. So society’s preconceived notions about down syndrome did not come in between their unconditional love for Samaira. They loved and cared for, took pride in and pampered Samaira just as they do any of their other grand kids. Our friends and family have created this happy bubble around us in which life is perfect and the world is all blue sky, shiny stars, purple flowers and flying hippos. But I know there is a world outside my world. And we will surely venture out in that world someday. It is for that world that I write today.

October is down syndrome awareness month. Never hesitate to ask us any questions about down syndrome.

Samaira is a free bird. She has wings. And she loves to fly.

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.