3.21

My favorite part of the day happens at noon. I pick Sammy up from her day care and drop her off to her afternoon pre-school at that time. All the kids in her day care get done with their lunch and are winding down, about ready to take a nap. Some are reading books. Some are singing together.  Some are walking around. Some are taking care of their pee-pee and poo-poo business. Samaira could be doing any of the above activities when I reach there to pick her up. As soon as I enter the class, Samaira comes running to me and says “I love you, mumma,” patting my back as she says that. As if saying “I will take care of you, mum.” My sweet kid. Just as we are about to leave, Sammy’s best friend ‘C’ comes running to her saying “Sammy, no no no no.” Sammy responds with “Come here ‘C’. Give me a hug.” This starts an eternal hug routine in her class in which most of her classmates hug her before she leaves. All the kids in her class are so generous, so nice, so sweet. 

My day is made pretty much everyday at noon.

It is nice to see that my kid is so loved and so loving. It is one of the proud moments for any parent - to see your child form bonds outside of immediate family. We want a strong family foundation. But the world around us is just as important, if not more. 

Word Down Syndrome Day is celebrated on March 21st every year. It signifies 3 copies of the 21st chromosome in each cell. All together 47 chromosomes, as opposed to the typical 46 chromosomes. Chromosome 21 is the smallest human chromosome and it represents about 1.5 - 2% of total DNA in cells. This chromosome contains about 200 to 300 genes that provide instructions for making proteins, performing variety of roles in the body. It is these extra copies of genes on chromosome 21 that disrupt the course of normal development and cause the characteristic features of down syndrome. It is also associated with increased risk of certain health problems.

These, and several others, are medical facts about down syndrome. We, as parents, learn more about it. We absorb it. We try to understand it. We try to monitor it. We aren’t naive about it, just because we have an incentive to get hypothetical PHDs in all related medical aspects. We are not in denial about it either. It’s not like it won’t happen if we don’t think about it (unless of course you believe in that kind of stuff, which I do, but I understand its limitations too). So, it is there at the back of our minds. Always. Not taking any significant real estate until there is a reason to. It doesn’t blur our vision either. We don’t view her issues with a lens of its-because-of-down-syndrome. But we are aware. We aren’t pessimistic about it either. There is the belief, the faith that every challenge needs to met with an equal and opposite resolve of the will. Some battles we will win, and some we won’t. That’s alright. Fighting that battle is important. Not giving up is important. Seeing your child suffer is hard. At first you want to take the suffering away, because it is so unfair. Then you want your kid to make it through. Be strong. Be resilient. Survive it. Even if it is something as simple as a cough or a congestion. Health is important and we realize it all too well.

Samaira needs more effort and time in completing her tasks, so she does ask for patience. But as far as attitude and expectations are concerned, they are no different. Our expectations are that both our kids are nice people, give their 100%, not give up, learn to rise from ashes, find the meaning of life - you know, the simple business as usual kind of stuff. No biggie. Jokes aside. We are not living our lives with any mission. There isn't a mission to do something or achieve something. We are attempting to live happy lives. It really is that simple.

We are so blessed to be surrounded with so many lovely people. I say it a lot. I will say it a lot more in future. Our ecosystem is kind of mind blowing. Our family and friends rock our world by being such nice and loving people. It sounds quite basic but that’s all you need. That’s all you sometimes cannot find. So we don’t take it for granted. Not at all. We appreciate and value every ounce of that goodness. Everyone around us has a very yes-you-can attitude toward Samaira. Everyone around us loves her unconditionally. It almost gives me a heartache to see how good everyone is. It has spoiled us so much that sometimes we don’t remember that there is a world outside of our world, and it may not be so kind. I honestly don’t know how to prepare for it. But for now, we are basking in the warmth and the company of the people we know.

I remember reading every article, every journal, every blog, every newsletter related to down syndrome in the first year and half of Sammy’s life. We wanted to make sure we were doing everything. We didn’t want to miss an opportunity. It thankfully did not lead us to forgetting to live her childhood. Sammy made sure we enjoyed her every mood, her every look, her every babble, her every toddle. But we are not as crazy into read-everything-out-there mode anymore. We have learned to relax a little. We have realized that the big ocean of information is endless. We will never know it all. We don’t have to know it all. All we have to try to know is Sammy. So we do that.

We only have three years worth of information about down syndrome. We know nothing more. Everything else is a speculation. All our fears, all our optimism, all our planning - is that for an absolute unknown that cannot be predicted. We fear nonetheless. We are optimistic nonetheless. We plan, only somewhat. But on this day, on the world down syndrome day, as I think about spreading awareness about down syndrome - I struggle a little. I am not sure what to tell. We know only so much. So little.

We know of this three year old girl.

Who has beautiful eyes.

Who loves food. Mostly carbs.

Who hates vegetables, from the bottom of her heart.

Who loves to sing lullabies to dolls\bears\people\invisible objects.

Who is on the shorter side, and so are her parents, and brother. 

Who has a hole in her heart that can hopefully heal itself, but we aren't really sure.

Who had sleep apnea.

Who had an adenoidectomy and tonsillectomy. 

Who has started stuttering over the last few months. It does worry us.

Who makes friends in a heart beat.

Who wins hearts in a heartbeat too.

Who deeply cares for her younger brother and also bosses him around plenty.

Who screams nooooooooo anytime we want her to do something she doesn't want, or sometimes screams for no good reason.

Who dances like no one is watching.

Who is averse to public restrooms and it can take up to 20 minutes of waiting and convincing her to go pee-pee in a public potty seat. We have even delayed a flight take off by 10 minutes because Sammy and I were in the restroom on the plane and not ready for takeoff. I am not proud of it. But it definitely makes me chuckle now.

Who loves to sing.

Who starts all her stories with “Once upon a time, there was a …” It could be a lion, a monkey, a table, a blanket. Whatever she feels like.

Who started going to preschool 4 times a week.

Who gets OT\PT and Adaptive therapy a couple of times a week.

Who has a best friend at day care called, ‘C’.

Who has parents, brother, grandparents, uncles, aunts, teachers, friends - who care for her very dearly. 

So this is what we know about down syndrome. This is what we can spread awareness about. This is one angle of down syndrome. I wouldn’t say it is all fairies and lilies and rainbows. But it sure is a whole lot of fun. 


If ever, ever, at all, you have any questions about down syndrome - please ask us. We may not know everything, but we may know some things. For the things we don’t know, we could find the answers together. The world will be a better place if we ask the right questions, have the right attitude, harbor the right vibes. I can’t take all the problems out of Samaira’s life. I don’t want to, anymore. I just hope that she will be stronger and people will be more aware. 

Happy World Down Syndrome Day!

A whole lot of random

It’s been too darn long. I wrote a bunch. But it didn’t flow. So I didn’t post. If it doesn’t flow, it ain’t so. You know what I am sayin’. By the way, when I hear people pronounce a word by skipping the last ‘g’, I add that last ‘g’ in my head. I have to. I can’t take it. I don’t know why. I need that last ‘g’. Except for my name. I almost un-pronounce the last ‘g’ in my name. So weird. Anyway, now that we have this out of the way, I can think of the other important things in life.

The thing is that I like writing when I don’t have to think too much. Too much thinking is a sign of an unsatisfactory writing experience for me. Not that writing is a mindless act. My mind is very much present when I write. Nor is it a thoughtless act. Because it very much reflects my thinking. But there is a fine (or wide?) line between too much thinking and free flowing thinking. 

Anyway. 

It has been way too long.

My mind is all over the place right now. So there will most likely not be a beginning or an end to this post. In fact each paragraph could be its own thing. Like short stories. Really really short stories. I will allow that at the cost of my thoughts flowing freely, because we have established how important it is for my writing experience. There will be no continuity in this post. Disclaimer: Any continuity from one paragraph to the next is purely coincidental.

So what’s new at our end, anyway? 

Siddharth and I have decided to not fight. Ever. It is our new-March resolution. If that is a thing. This resolution lasted for about 5 hours before one of us fought. Key phrase being one of us. In our arguments, we really have just one person fighting. And that is typically me. So in our couples fight, I am normally leading a one person fight. That is because while Siddharth thinks we are having a discussion, I feel like we are having an argument. Our thresholds are so different that more often than not we can’t even agree if we are having a fight. Anyway. Then we re-resolved to not fight. Until we fought again. The point is, we realized that kids are growing up. And our discussions (which could very well be about whether or not we are having a fight) impact our kids more than they impact us. So we are trying this thing called patience. How fancy? Siddharth is not new to it. I am not either. But we are not best of friends - patience and I. We have our differences. In any case, Siddharth and I are trying to not fight. We are succeeding until we fail. Not bad, I say. Funny thing is that now I sometimes try to remember what we used to fight about so much. And I must admit that I don’t even remember. Most of our arguments are silly. They are almost never about the content, and almost always about the tone. Ah, that tone. Siddharth obviously has none of these issues. He is a very simple person. No complicated onion layers to peel. What you see is really what you get. I, on the other hand, need a lot of understanding and a lot of to-be-understood aspect to my personality. I keep thinking of the saying “Understand before you want to be understood.” It is such a powerful statement. I really think this statement makes me a better person. No joke. Sammy & Rehan are turning me into a more cordial person. Whaat !!? Whaaat ?!

Siddharth is really strange because he has a clear definition or standard of what is acceptable and what is not - in life, in general, for himself, for others. But even when people or circumstances don’t comply with his standard, he does not reject them. He accepts them without questioning. I, on the other hand, have a very post-modern view of the world. I am all about subjectivity. Individuality. Respect. There isn’t a right or a wrong. People do what they can, what they want. It is not for us to judge. But in spite of this seemingly liberal point of view, I can’t accept everyone into my teeny-tiny circle with open arms. I take time to build my circle. I don’t have a big circle, because I can’t accept without questioning. Or, at all, sometimes. I don't currently feel the need to cultivate this aspect of my personality. Not just yet, anyway. If I have to work on something, there will be a whole pandora’s box of things I could work on to better myself. I don’t think I will be prioritizing unconditional-acceptance-for-a-whole-bunch-of-people on that list. But I do, hugely, admire Siddharth for having this quality in him. In fact every time he displays this quality, I stare at him with my mouth wide open and a reaction of “Are you sure you are a human? From Earth?” - in the most positive way possible. I respect this quality in him so so much. It is one of the qualities that make him one of the best human beings I have ever come across.

I would be lying if I say that Samaira and Rehan are the sweet angels who are a result of a new born unicorn fart. Because they are not. They can be extremely mischievous and wicked. These days I am a constant complaint-machine about Rehan sleeping at mid-night every night (please don’t judge us). He spends 3 hours going-to-sleep. But boy do these kids melt my heart or what !? I thank my stars that aligned so perfectly to give us these two kids. Specifically these ones. Not slightly different. This exact set. They bring so much joy in our lives. As much as I love to complain about them, I can’t imagine my life without them. Sammy gives hugs that are to die for. No, really. She could kill with her hugs. Rehan has the sweetest voice possible. So just when he has done something wrong, something that might result in me being mad times 10 and him basically being screwed, he will say “Mumma, IIIuvuuuu.” And my heart turns into an ice cream that has been out for too long - cold but totally melted.

I like to see Sammy and Rehan interact. It is one of my favorite things about siblings. Interaction. They want the exact same thing, at the exact same time, for the exact same duration. Even though they don’t really want that thing. In other words, they fight a lot. In fact, every night I am thankful that they have survived each other. In one piece. But somehow Siddharth and I find so much happiness in just observing the kids doing what they do. Without interference. Unless one of them is going to seriously injure the other person, or themselves. We have a pretty high tolerance for such things. I would say that Siddharth and I are quite relaxed (totally a relative term, I get that) as parents. Not as a positive or a negative thing. More as a fact though. Unlike most parents, it doesn’t occur to us to discipline our kids when they are jumping on the couch. In some cases, we might actually join them in this monkey exercise. We do have boundaries. But the point is that our boundaries are somewhat stretched. And they are a moving target. So when our kids interact, and sometimes when it manifests as a chaotic its-mine-its-mine song, Siddharth and I look at each other and smile. Again, don’t judge. Of course there are times when Sammy will baby Rehan in the most adorable way humanly possible. There are times when Rehan is more concerned about Sammy than either of us. He wants Sammy’s attention, he wants to play with her. And it becomes cheesy-cheese overload in our household. I live for that. I would die for that.

Samaira’s latest thing is being a teacher. She acts like this worldly person who knows everything and it is her duty to teach, especially Rehan. So you can always spot her holding a book and asking Rehan “Rehan - can you point at the umbrella buddy?” And when he does, she makes sure to follow it up with “Good job, buddy. I am proud of you.”  Sure Miss Sammy. Anything for you. Rehan’s favorite thing these days is finding out who is happy and who is sad. And why. So he is on a repeat of “Mumma, are you happy?” “Is Elsa happy?” “Where is Anna?” “Is Anna happy?” You get the idea. 

These days it is a thing to diss the princess phenomena. I have been trying to figure out my point of view on it. So I wondered, why are super heroes ok and princesses not? I personally like Ironman just as much as I like Snow White. Well, maybe I like Ironman a tad bit more. I think it might be because of the opposites-attract phenomena. But that is besides the point. I personally am not against the princess phenomena, just like I am not against the superhero phenomena. I don’t take any specific pride in saying that Samaira likes Hulk. Just like I don’t feel the need to hide the fact that Rehan likes Elsa. The problem is not with princesses. Or with superheroes. The problem is that pink is for girls only and blue is for boys only. The problem is that princesses are for girls and superheroes are for boys. Which has now led to another problem. That princesses are not for girls. I really think both are for both. I personally don't want to decide or influence who my kids’ favorite should be. Equal opportunity. Equal privilege. In my mind it works both ways. I do understand parents trying to ensure their kids’ identity as being separate from any princess or superhero. It is one thing to like someone and another thing to want to be someone. Like really be that person. The only person I ever want Rehan to be is Rehan. The only person I ever want Sammy to be is Sammy. But if they want to pretend play with Hulk or Elsa - they can do whatever they want and I will be just as happy. Heck, they can make their own story in which Elsa is best friends with Hulk. Like say, Elsa froze Hulk when she first saw him because she was mad at him. Which made Hulk even more mad and he turned into this giant green man. Which scared Elsa. Until they learned more about each other and found out that they are more alike than different. And they became best friends forever. Not bad, huh. At this point, I will accept royalty cheques. 

Oh man, how I missed writing!

Distracted kids in front of the camera. So typical!

My Positivity

Scribbling on my laptop again. About time.

For my own good

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It is for my own good.

Family Time to Rescue...Always

My Positivity

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

I’m back!

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

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

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

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

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

Daddy and Rehan ?!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rehan at the railway station...curious

What will I ever do with a genie?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, well. The things that we do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Positivity

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

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

New Beginnings

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tomorrow is another day.