Six o'clock already I was just in the middle of a dream

Monday Morning 
Ri and I converse mainly in Tamizh. Below is the translated version :) 

Ri: I will not go to school today !
Me : Please do and I promise that Appa and I will come and see you very soon.
We have a parents orientation today
Me: It's time to brush away the germs! Let me brush your teeth for you!
Ri : No ! Only, daddy has to brush my teeth!
Me: Let's gargle your mouth.....
Ri: No ! Only, daddy has to give me the water!
Me: Time to bathe ?
Ri: No ! Only, daddy has to bathe me !
Daddy hands over freshly bathed Ri to me. She accidentally got soap into her eyes so she is a bit fussy. 
Ri : No No No ! I will not get ready ! I will not go to school !
Me : If you fuss like this and refuse to let me help you, I will go to Aysha's (fictitious good girl) house.
Ri stays quiet for 20 seconds. Maybe she's imagining how Aysha looks.
Me : Let's wear the blue dress. It's so pretty ! Or, would you like to pick ?
Me confusing her with and without choice. This is what happens when your Mom is a Libran.
Ri: Pink Pink Pink ! Pink top and pink leggings
Me: They don't really match.......do you want to wear a pair of shorts with the pink top ?
I could have just sent to school a happy kid with mismatched clothes rather than a whiny kid in matching clothes.
Ri : Noooooooooo !!!!!!! Begins to sob 
Me: Ok. You have to wear your underwear now
Ri: I won't wear this one......sobs
Me: Losing patience and does not want to scream on a Monday morning
I bring in the Patti resource. She is well-behaved as my mom gets her ready. I almost feel like the 'bad' person. Why did I have to be OCD about matching clothes ? 

Sometimes I forget that I'm 30 and she's just 2.5 years old. Is there anything called a 'fair game' between a mother and a toddler. I feel remorseful after reprimanding her, consoling myself that she's just a baby! However, I see the mischievous glint in her eyes when she sees me, she knows exactly when she's being stubborn and she knows which buttons to push. When I scold her, she tells me not to, otherwise she'll tell her daddy.

And then I disconnect myself from the conversation volley and view it as an outsider. I hear myself telling Ri the things that my parents used to tell me and I swore I would never say to my kids.

"I've never had as many toys as you. You have to be more careful with them!"
"Where are the other crayons ?" We just bought them! Daddy works very hard to buy you these things!"
"You will not speak to me this way. I do not deserve this after everything I do for you."
 
And that's the way the story goes........


 
Blog Title: Maniac Monday - The Bangles

There I said it !

Ri looks like my dad. I'm her mom and I should know. No. She does not look like my mother-in-law! Raj's family have sharp features. Regal noses. Angular faces. Ri and Raj have no similar features! Maybe they share similar expressions but then people should say she 'has similar expressions to him' and not 'she looks like him'.
And, after five years of marriage, you really stop with the 'my family' and 'your family' thing so this is not one of those rants! When you are standing at a distance from her, her long limbs and colouring is similar to RD's side of the family. She is a tall girl like my mother-in-law.

When she gets closer, I notice the mischevious glint in her eyes, her button nose, heart-shaped face and the way her features are placed and I see a little girl version of my dad minus the pot belly!

Ri put it best. I asked her who she looked like and she said 'Ninna'. My mom would concur. She hates 'familial' comparisons. So do I. I would love to agree with my mom and say kids look like themselves but I look at Ri everyday and she looks like my dad.

There, I said it.

While she walks out ......

Yesterday, I picked up Ri from her playschool. As I waited for my daughter to come out, excitement building, like paparazzi waiting for a celeb snapshot, I realised that picking your kid up from school is one of those 'Mastercard' moments.

She walked out, tiny jazzy purple Strawberry Shortcake backpack, a Winnie-the-Pooh water bottle slung on her shoulder, grimy-knees, sweaty head, pink with tiredness and some time in the sun. As I watched her from a distance, I felt a lump in my throat and my eyes involuntarily filled with tears. I was so proud of her. She was adjusting in a new environment and I knew she was giving it her best shot!

Moments like these are 'zen'! Deadlines, home and work-stress fade away. They joy of being a parent is remembered. Ri is ok. She is ok. Everything else comes second.

Dear Ri,

It's been so long since I've posted in this space. I have so much going on with my work and all the work going on in our new apartment. The sweltering heat and frequent power cuts are not helping!

10 Ri-eal Life Updates:

1. You are 2 years and 5 months now. You started playschool, it's been a good 3 days so far and I cross my fingers that you will adjust well. Last time I enrolled you, I think you might have been too young. Of course, there are some kids who adjust well at younger ages but let's just say you were not one of them.
2. You keep talking about a 'tangachi' (younger sister in Tamil)  'paapa' (baby in Tamil).
   I think you would be a great elder sister. However, you talk about the 'tangachi' as a playmate who will come everyday, play with you and leave. You get upset when I tell you that babies have to stay in their mother's stomachs till they come out into the world. Its amusing when you tell me that 'tangachi' should not be in my stomach because you will crawl back into it. I think you need a best friend! 
3. You love grouping RD, you and me together as a family. When your grandparents offer to come visit you in school or move into our new apartment, you tell them with glee that only you, your mommy and daddy will be together wherever you go! 
4. You are very religious. You love watching 'pujas' , talking about Gods and hearing their stories. You can describe how Lord Shiva lives with his family in Kailash and can point at Holy Cross and say Jesus! I love that about you and always hope you will be a secular, peaceful child. 
5. When I described the Holy Trinity to you, you were a bit disappointed that your favourite Ganesha did not make the cut! 
6. I still carry a diaper bag for you, everywhere I go. These days, I rarely seem to take stuff out of it except for your milk, water and some baby wipes. I could very well, stuff them into my regular handbag. Packing your diaper bag before we go out is a ritual for me. I love neatly folding your spare dresses, your diaper cream and powder (where am I ever going to powder you in a restaurant) and placing them in their compartments. I feel more prepared to face the world as a mother with my diaper bag! That, and the fact that I am desperately trying to hold on to every ritual associated with you as a baby as long as I can. Carrying the diaper bag around reminds me that I am a 'mother', I feel purposeful, resourceful and needed. Whatever the tribulations associated with it, I enjoy being your mom. 
7. You love playing with 'chapati' dough. So, I bought you Play-Doh. Well, it excited you for around 48 hours before you went back to demanding for your 'maavu'. 
8. Your dad totally sees through the stunt I pull in 'using you' to pass on messages to him. Every time you say you want to go out for '5-star' dinner or want a 'foreign' holiday, he looks at me suspiciously!
9. Speaking of which, we took you to the Chola for dinner and you walked into the lobby, looked around and sighed with happiness. You were delighted with the air-conditioning, the flower arrangements and the friendly staff. I think your father pretended to not know who I was because I walked you around and made you pose for pictures against paintings and artifacts. 
10. You throw tantrums saying you want to do 'computer velai' like your Amma.  You sit in front of the computer and strum away at the keys. Though, mostly you watch religious videos on Youtube. 
11. These days, you call me in a variation of names: Amma, my real name, Mommy, Mummy, Ammi and most recently, Mama! 
12. You love lipbalms and the idea of lipstick. Since I don't really own any lipsticks, I fool you with lipgloss and Nivea's lipbalm. 
13. This morning, an elderly gentleman who lives on the same road came for a visit. You saw him, ran into the kitchen and asked 'Mumu' to fill the ice-bucket with ice since 'Thatha's' friends have come in for a visit!!!!!!!!!!!!! Darling Ri, you assume we are ready to drink at anytime which we probably are ? 
14. I bought you a small schoolbag from Witco. Shopping for you at familiar places like Witco and Bata for shoes (which I only recently discovered was not an Indian company) makes me happy. It reminds me of my childhood. I don't know if you'd like the clothes from London Stores at Luz Corner or Children's Choice at Mylapore though! 
15. I don't know how old you will be when you read this. Will this storage space survive ?
    If you are reading, I want you to know that you are and will always be the light of my life. 

Love, 

Mama 

I'll always remember you like a child girl

Being a mom to a baby/toddler is hard. No! I'm not talking about the nurturing and the tangible physical implications of spending time with them. I'm talking about the toll it takes on you emotionally.

You see, I am addicted to sleeping with Ri by my side.

Ri still sleeps with RD and me and we would not have it any other way. Now that she's older, she is so much more responsive during sleep-time, she'll ask for a blanket and lovingly ask us both to snuggle into it, with her. When we do, she sighs with contentment and I can almost feel my heart crush a little with the happiness of the whole experience. Sometimes, she stretches her arms out and ask us to lay on either side. The grins, the giggles and the positive energy she gives us, is something that enthuses us day and night.

Dr Sears, one of America's high-visibility paediatrician's http://www.askdrsears.com/topics/sleep-problems/co-sleeping-yes-no-sometimes advocates what he calls sleep-sharing and I must say it works for both parents and babies.

When she was younger, I would constantly wonder when she would move to her own room, or even to her own crib, which is more of a toy-holder now. I would wonder why I was incapable of infusing more discipline into her routine.

Now, I've learnt to let go of the worrying.

Her routine is mostly unpredictable. She has not started formal school as yet and I am sure she will start sleeping earlier when she starts school and needs to be more routine-oriented. For now, she is my baby and forgive me for wanting to hold on to that a little longer.

Weaning took its toll on me. Ri has completely forgotten that phase in her life and I am amazed at how a baby who was obsessed with nursing could just 'move on' like that while I am left inexplicably sad at her transition. There are so many moments when she asks me to leave the room, clinging on to her father instead. She can now choose when she she needs me and is pretty vocal about it. When I spend too much time on my part-time job, I can sense her disappointment as I tap away at the computer keys helplessly. Sometimes, she asks for my attention. Most times, she does not. Holding her toys precariously, she has learnt to walk away when she knows she cannot disturb me.

So, I watch her, grow and laugh and love and play with a happiness that cannot be explained and can only be experienced. Yet, every happy moment is tinged with the teeny thread of sadness, again which only can be experienced and not explained.

One day, our babies will grow up, are growing up and grown up which is all a wonderfully blessed thing with a little bit of heartbreak for moms.

Blog Title: Wild World - Mr. Big

To Ri or not to Ri - Part One

Ever so often, I wonder about that elusive second child. Do I want one? Do I need one? What if I denying Ri something by not having one? What if I am denying myself a career by having one at this stage?
I am a Libran so even if that means, constantly and carefully evaluating and balancing decisions, it also means a scale that is always tilting, I am pretty indecisive.

With Ri, it all seemed so much simpler.....
After we had been married for 2 years, RD was convinced he wanted a baby. And, in case you do not know, he is a sales guy. He can sell his point pretty convincingly, when he makes an attempt to. I was a bumbling 27-year old who has a whole lot of nothing going on at that point of my life. I was running a design unit which was largely unsuccessful, we had a great team and were high on motivation but low on luck and a clients! I wrote part-time for an online newsletter and even that project dwindled away!

RD would pat the space in-between us in our bed and say " One day we'll have our little baby here. I cannot wait to see him/her."

My closest girlfriends and cousin were having babies, so that was definite motivation and I had a husband who desperately wanted one. Who was I to say no?

So, we decided to have our baby and I think that was the best thing that happened to me at that stage of my life.

I had all this energy.

If you've known me for long, you'd probably nod your head and smile.

I have a lot of energy when I decide to do something. I make a plan, I write lists, I fret, obsesss, rant and push myself a lot. What can you do with that much energy and no customers to transfer it to? I put it all into Ri. I prayed for a healthy baby. I asked for a fresh start. And, a little girl.

The pregnancy was the best thing that could have happened to me. I needed a break. Desperately. And, Ri gave me that.

I finally had a reason to shut down my unit. Letting my designers go was painful, feeling like a failure, even more so. Seeing the disappointment in my father's eyes that I was not cut down to be an entrepreneur, let's not even go there....but nothing was that bad because I had my 'little baby' to look forward to.

Between RD's travelling and my work, we had never really found the time to travel together.
Mid-pregnancy, we took a nice long babymoon to Malaysia and Phuket. Even when she was in my stomach, she brought me a lot of luck and happiness. RD and I had a great time, we ate at McDonalds, held hands, took the Monorail aimlessly, ate Seitan with fried rice, watched chick flicks, ate caramel popcorn. We did a lot of touristy stuff. I read Eat, Pray and Love, ate Key Lime pie and bought a pink  hand-bag. You might have thought we were on our honeymoon, you know like them couples who discover they are pregnant and then decide to get married!

On the first day of Navarathri 2009, we were in Malaysia when we discovered we were having a girl.

To be continued

Oh wonderful love

Dear Ri,

I lay next to you last night, getting you ready to sleep. I enjoy these moments, your head in the crook of my arm, a soft pillow below my head and the gentle whirr of the air-conditioner. Your cheek pressed against mine. On most nights, we giggle girly giggles together.

You are no longer a baby. I see this expressive little girl next to me. You are smart and funny. Cheeky. I usually start telling you a story, interrupted by either you or me losing patience.

So, last night, we were talking and in a moment of parental indulgence, I hug you tight and ask who you think loves you most in the world. I expect you to say that I do. Instead, you state emphatically,
"Baba".

You then, turn away,placing your head on my arm and resting, as though you need time to reflect on your answer as well. I was very moved by your answer. Lump-in-my-throat-kind-of-moved.

How do you know so much at so little? May the gentle, loving Gods who you believe in bless and protect you at all times.

Love,
Amma

Conversational Bytes

RD: You are looking dull today. Is it your hairstyle? Somethings off...
Ri's Mom: I don't know. Had to go in for a meeting. I didn't want to leave my hair open.
RD: You better look fresh tomorrow. Go do a facial or something
Ri's Mom: Facial ? You know I don't have the patience to sit through one. I'm wondering what to wear tomorrow. Hmmm
RD: Me too ? I should be formally dressed right ?
Ri's Mom: Not really. Relax. It's just a meeting. They are not going to interview us or anything!!!!
RD: It's not just a meeting. Please don't stay up late watching TV. Sleep well. It's a big day for us tomorrow.
If RD reacted this way before an invitation to tour  a pre-school for Ri, I wonder how he'll be the evening before her wedding. God help me.

Que Sera Sera

Well I've turned 30 and you think I would know how to deal with 'worry' by now.

I was terrible at Math and worried incessantly about passing the subject in school. I would 'just pass' all the time and my parents would celebrate that like I had scored a 'centum' like a stereotypical person from my community would have. I was average in Physics and terrible in Chemistry and even worse in Computer Programs.
So, I passed high school learning to deal with 'worry'.
All of the above did not prevent my dad from 'insisting' that I study Engineering. Well, I may not have been a stereotypical person from my community but my dad was. Well, at least on the topic of education. So that was another worry-filled four years where I struggled through Maths, more Maths and more Maths. Have you see the syllabus for Electronics and Communications Engineering?
So I spent a lot of time in college, in 'worry'.
After I scraped through college, my dad benevolently declared that I could now choose to study whatever I want. I can still remember how he beamed when he said that. I think I was borderline clinically-depressed by then and educationally de-motivated  So, his benevolence had little effect on me. I had applied to every creative program I could think of but no graduate school wanted a creative person who had spent the last 'six'years studying Science.
Well, I eventually went on to study two Masters in Syracuse which became a town I still consider my second home. Well, that's a whole other story. The point is there was a lot of 'worry' involved.
Will I finally study something I love? How do I fit in being the only Indian in my class? Will I get an internship? Will I finish this paper on time? There was a lot of studying and a lot of worrying.
I think the point I'm trying to make is that my educational journey has been a long one, difficuilt, challenging, worrying.....
Yet, all of that seems trivial compared to the 'worry' I carry around me about Ri's schooling. I carry around a tight ball that lies between my chest and stomach and I think I'm going to call it 'School Worry 2013'.
Believe me, I am a reasonable individual. I can counsel you through anything using ample doses of reasoning, spirituality and good sense. Yet, I seem to lose rationale when it comes to my daughter. She's smart and I care about her education and I have faith that I will ensure that she copes academically. What I cannot predict or control is who her friends will be, her teachers, her peer group. What kind of families will her friends come from? Will they be snobs? Will they be classy? Will they this and will they that? Is there a fool-proof way to select a school that ensures that Ri meets the right mix of people. Well, rather, my estimation of the 'right' mix of people.
Schooling and school friends play a huge influence on who turn out to be in your life. And, I get to make this huge choice for my daughter. Will I make the right choice? Will she make the right friends? What if I put her in an environment she hates?
I must confess I have several OCD's and am a bit of a control freak ( I can almost see my husband smile as he reads this on his Blackberry). How do I chart a fool-proof educational course for my daughter?
Well, there is a little voice in my head, the gentle voice of reason that reminds me that I cannot decide what the 'right' mix of people are going to be for my daughter. Nothing is 'fool-proof' and I have to learn to make lemonade with the lemons her school throws me.
I might want Ri to be 'prom queen' but she may be happiest in the Chemistry lab. She may be the class tree-hugger, party-pooper or the shy one who is happiest in the background. Why? She may even be the quiet one or the sullen one that everyone is wary about. Inspite of my best efforts, she may be the 'snob' that convinces her Daddy to buy her Prada at 16 ( Believe me, he will if she asks) or the 'girl with the purple streaks'.
Who am I to predict or guess?
I am her mother. And, now I know what it is to worry like one.
Everything else in the past, somehow, seems easy now.

If you fall, I will catch you. I'll be waiting. Time after time.

Dear Ri,

Happy Valentines Day. I love you. More than you will ever know. More than you will ever understand. I love you in a 'worry- about-which-school-you-will-go-to-till-my-temples-hurt' kind of way and  'hearing-you-laugh-makes-my-heart-want-to-burst-with-joy' kind of way.

I am a huge believer of Brian Weiss. He talks about how we reincarnate over the years with old souls and new bodies. He talks about a 'family of souls' and how they find each other every lifetime. The souls stay together. Only the relationships change.
Most nights, when I watch you curled up next to me, sleeping, I have but one wish. I wish there was a way I could soul-tag you, my darling Ri.

How do I identify you time after time?

Love,

Mom

Blog Title: Time after time - Cyndi Lauper

Zen and Moms

Dear Ri,
Someday you'll be 30 and I'll be 58. Hopefully we'll drink a glass of bubbly together and we will be happy. More importantly, you will be happy. Maybe you'll have a husband and a child through which your father and I will desperately try to re-create your childhood.
Assuming you will be our only child, will we be one of those parents that your husband inherits along with you !!! Eeeks. I can imagine your husband rolling his eyes as you book 4 plane tickets to the Carribean and I pretend not to hear you whisper " But they have nobody else". Hopefully I would have written a book by then and dedicated to you and my paternal grand-father. Through my years of struggling through Engineering, he would constantly remind me that I had it in me to be a good journalist. I wish you had a chance to meet him. He died when he was 91, two years before you were born and I have tears in my eyes as I type this. Damm the prolactin!
As much as we all dread the big 30, it does come with its own benefits. One among them, is a little bit of Zen. The things that may have upset you in your late 20's do not seem to anymore. The need to snap back at an snappy spouse. The need to put a parent or an in-law under the microscope. The need to relate your happiness directly to others. You may want to do all of the above but sometimes you learn to let it go.
Instead you turn all Meredith Grey with your view on the really 'terrible' things. She talks about how you wish for all the things that you 'think' are terrible to come back when the really 'terrible' things happen.
So, I'm trying to live a little like that now. You are here. I am here. We are healthy. You are happy. (except for the whole weaning thing). Well, I'm all Meredith Grey kinda happy. Your dad is here. His Blackberry is here. His calls are here.

That's enough for now. I guess.

Love,
Mom

For what it's worth it was worth all the while

When I imagined the process of Ri getting weaned, I imagined RD and I taking a break away from her for maybe two or three nights while she learnt to cope with the loss of nursing. Everyone around me including my ped said she would forget by the time I returned.

So I would associate Langkawi and Bali every time I thought about weaning her. I imagined sitting by the pool, tears glistening behind my sunglasses.....

Well, here I am, in good old hometown. Its been three days since I've nursed her and I think the nursing phase of my life may be officially over. No Bali. No Langkawi. It just happened like that. A couple of days back, my sister who is here on a break from the United States kept encouraging me to stop whenever Ri demanded my milk. And, I did, just like that.

After all, this was a long time coming. I had wanted to feed her till she was two. And well, the birthday had come and gone. It was time to let go.

I did not wean her in the most organic way in the book. I told her a a creature called 'Magai' had taken away my milk and would get angry if she continued to feed. And, she believed me, almost sneeringly. Ri thinks monsters are funny people.

It's been three days and she's fine. We spend a lot of time hugging and kissing and cuddling. I hold her close to reassure her that I am still there. She still gets my warmth and gets to sleep at my chest. Just no milk.

I feel unexplainably low. A lot of thoughts plague my mind. I don't remember the last time I fed her. Should I have recorded it in some way? ( I know that sounds creepy but figuratively speaking). Should I have made an occasion out of it. Should I have held her close and sung her a song. Was I lying lazily on the bed reading a paperback romance as she fed or was I watching an episode of 'Parenthood'.
I don't remember.

I've never spoken openly about nursing her for two years. There were days when I enjoyed it. Days when I was tired of it. Days when I would have been tired without it. Days when I felt a bit ashamed about the fact that I was still feeding a toddler. Days when I attributed her 'genius' to my breast milk.
I nursed her through fevers and bed-falls, tantrums and tummy-aches, after ear-piercings and
head-shavings, through marathon road trips and aeroplane take-offs and landings. When she hated travel-food, I nursed her till reprieve. I must thank the breast-milk gods. If I could go back in time, I would do it all over again.

So why did I choose to feed her this long? A lot had to do with how easy it is to take care of a child who nurses apart from all the 'love' and 'security' stuff. I think most of it had to do with the fact that RD wants only one child and I felt that I wanted to continue this beautiful natural process as long as I could, for this might be my only sweet baby. Well, take a dad who wants one baby and a mom who really does not know what she wants but feels no internal or external pressure to have a second one as yet  = our happy family with our darling Ri.

I feel strangely low right now. A mommy-friend said it is like 'an end of an era' thing and it is natural to mourn. Maybe it's the dip in prolactin. Maybe it's acknowledging that our babies grow up. You never know how much something means to you and how much you take it for granted till you have to give it up.

So I am doing some self-torturing right now. You know, like when you break up with someone and lie in bed thinking of all the wonderful moments you spent with them. I remember the first moment Ri was handed to me and how she took to my breast. I remember falling in love with her, over and over again as she fed, me stroking her hair and feeling her soft skin. I remember millions of episodes of Desperate Housewives, Criminal Minds, Greys Anatomy, 90210 and Gossip Girl that I watched while I fed her. I was never nursery-rocking-chair feeding mom!

I have read a lot of articles on how you should nurse till mom and baby mutually agree to quit. For the last three days, Ri still asks for milk but I manage to distract her. I still feel like giving in sometimes and 'experiencing' it one last time. So, I don't know if both of us are ready yet. I don't know if I stopped nursing for her, for me, for those around me. I don't know if I stopped so that she could spend more time getting to know me, than focusing on feeding. I guess I'll never know.
So here's to a new chapter for Ri and me. Wish me luck.

Happy Birthday Darling!

Ri is now two.

Pongal 2012

Dear Ri,

It is Pongal 2012 today and I am sitting in front of the laptop strumming away at the keys. You are with your father’s parents. I am sure you must be having a gala time over there. I appreciate the ‘alone’ time I have right now. I have so much of work to do on the computer, in the computer, outside the computer. Bah.

I wonder how old you will be when you begin to read these posts I write for you. Will they still be available? What if some new technology comes and eats all this away? And, then your grandmother will talk to me from the Oujja board and say “ This is why good ol’ letters are more reliable”.

Ri. My fingers can barely write a “To-Do list’” leave alone these long blog posts. I can barely hold a pen anymore and my hands get all quivery and shaky when I start to write something. So we just have to hope that the technology gods keep smiling at us and do not destroy the posts I write for you.

Sometimes I wonder why I blog about you and for you. Is it some melodramatic effort to be in touch with you if something were to happen to me? Not to worry Ri. If something like that were to happen, I will probably haunt you and your poor father for the rest of your lives.
Curtains fluttering, I will check if he has matched the bedspread in your room with the curtains I am now fluttering. Is he keeping the fridge clean? Are their lids covering all the cups of food? Are you eating healthy? Did he seriously believe your “I am going for a sleepover story”?

Or, am I blogging so that someday some publisher will read my blogs and decide to offer me a book contract? Speaking of books, I desperately want to enter the Mills & Boon Aspiring Authors competition. Ri, I have such issues. I dream about winning and my parents and your father’s parents reading the winning entry and turning red in the face by all the ‘adult’ scenes I have crafted. You’ll probably know what I am talking about when you read this post.

I have a lot of things on my plate right now Ri. Our new apartment and your birthday party amongst other things…….

Wish me luck,

Love,

Mom

P.S: I ate a lot of Pongal today. A lot.