I had this sudden fear that my ever-dwindling social circle is going to become non-existent unless I do something proactive about it. So, met a bunch of new people this weekend. New topics of conversation are always fun! Plus as k puts it, am constantly "in awe" of newness in general. A few years back, I met this lady who was working with nano-technology and I found her work fascinating, especially the bits that she said were sort of confidential! Some months back, I had this long conversation with a doctor friend of mine about...life and death. I just listened and wondered about how amazing her job is - life, is in her hands! Yesterday, I had a blast with another doctor friend of mine and she is usually so mean to me (all intentional, of course) and so goofy, I become goofy too! And after ages, I talked a lot of nonsense with her, while the men in the room shook their heads as if to say, "We give up", and cracked up!
I guess, I like being in awe of people. The fact that I am in awe makes them that much more interesting. Like all things amazing, the intensity of how interesting I find people goes down as I get to know them more. That, I think is just human nature. Doing the same grind gets to you no matter how interested you are in it at first. My brother and I used to wonder how great it would be if we had to just read comic books at school and then we thought some more and concluded that, that would become a chore too. The fun is only that the contact is not continuous and pre-determined, it's on the spur of the moment, exciting and unpredictable. Sort of like relationships we form with new people.
And for that, I am thankful to my daughter who is as new as anyone can be and who has taught me that there is more to life than to-do-lists, plans and materials. Every day is new, unpredictable and fulfiling with her. I keep wondering what I ever did with all the free time I had before her. But that part of my life is a blur now...
I am sure there is something to be said about everything old too. Like an old married couple or an old house with a thinnai or old friends. But, this post is not about them. This is a celebration of newness and the hope that turning 30 continues to bring new and enriching experiences along the way.
In fact, I wanted turning 30 to be so new that I asked k not to arrange a party for me. And then I thought hmm...turning 30 is something so eventful, I should spend it in the company of friends, plus little r~ would have a blast with n number of humans in one place (she loves people) and it so happened none of them could make it (save one), "remnants" of too many social gatherings, as one of my friends put it, prevented them from dropping by. Oh well, that is something new too. Not wanting any sort of party, getting a surprise birthday party 2 days before my birthday (which was fun, what does a date matter anyway? 21st, 23rd...potAtoes...poTAHtoes, right? no?), wanting to meet people all of a sudden, finally, spending some nice quiet(hah!) time with k, lil' r~, sole friend and Oscars...ah...life, I tell you, is quite new and unpredictable for me.
I am back to dancing now, which gives me a chance to meet a wonderful class full of "young" girls and giggle with them. Almost makes me feel like I am a teenager. One can always imagine...
My dear lil' r, I tell you, your mom is crazy!
February 22, 2009
February 16, 2009
Valentines Day
After many years, for a change, there was no pressure on me for Valentines day. I did not have to show to the world that I did something cool on Valentines day. You know what I mean? Sitting at home on V-day = umm...is the romance dwindling already kind of thing. So k and I always used to book a nice booth in a restaurant, wait faithfully for the 45 minutes or 3 hours time it took to push our way inside and then we would watch a chick-flick (Yes, those are the only kinds I enjoy), eat ice-cream and call it a day, satisfied that the fire of romance was still very much ablaze in our lives.
A couple of years back, I remember sitting huddled at a small table with k at an Indian restaurant. Now, "huddled" would probably have you painting images of a cozy restaurant booth, dim lighting, sweet whispers that floated about in the air as we stared into each others eyes...hah! It was more like a rickety wooden table in the middle of the restaurant with two equally aging chairs, waiters and customers shouting above the din in the restaurant and me trying to sit as comfortably as I could without jutting my elbow into the guy sitting about three quarters of an inch away from me! Yup, we did meaningfully stare into each other's eyes, k and I, "Made it! One more year. A meaningful V-day! Do we really have to do this next year?"
And then little r~ arrived and now we got to spend blissful little moments with her staying home on V-day! No guilt. We were however too lazy to cook and ordered to-go from a restaurant nearby and ended up waiting 45 minutes for our order.
Oh and k was so excited about the card that he got me, he forgot to fill it up. He came racing into the house waving the last-minute-bought colorful little card saying, "Happy Valentines Day!" and I gleefully opened the card, read it and then thought it was missing some things, like "Dear RS, Love k..." you know? The basics!
I start work in a month's time which means I can finally be a part of the super cool moms who can say things like, "Oh! I juggle baby and career...yes, I know...it's tough, I manage somehow." Woohoo!
Also, let's not forget, I turn ...shh...silence.... THIRTY in a few days! And so, I plan to get drunk and pass out on my birthday. Just like Monica. Whee! What fun!
Oh wait.
I don't drink. Oh well. I guess I will just turn thirty quietly mulling about my many achievements and glories.
Wait a minute.
There aren't that many. In fact I can't think of any except little r~.
Hmm...
Huh...
Yup, thought of one more.
This blog!
Love you blog and love you readers.
RS exits waving happy kisses at one and all, peacefully ready to step into the big three-O.
A couple of years back, I remember sitting huddled at a small table with k at an Indian restaurant. Now, "huddled" would probably have you painting images of a cozy restaurant booth, dim lighting, sweet whispers that floated about in the air as we stared into each others eyes...hah! It was more like a rickety wooden table in the middle of the restaurant with two equally aging chairs, waiters and customers shouting above the din in the restaurant and me trying to sit as comfortably as I could without jutting my elbow into the guy sitting about three quarters of an inch away from me! Yup, we did meaningfully stare into each other's eyes, k and I, "Made it! One more year. A meaningful V-day! Do we really have to do this next year?"
And then little r~ arrived and now we got to spend blissful little moments with her staying home on V-day! No guilt. We were however too lazy to cook and ordered to-go from a restaurant nearby and ended up waiting 45 minutes for our order.
Oh and k was so excited about the card that he got me, he forgot to fill it up. He came racing into the house waving the last-minute-bought colorful little card saying, "Happy Valentines Day!" and I gleefully opened the card, read it and then thought it was missing some things, like "Dear RS, Love k..." you know? The basics!
I start work in a month's time which means I can finally be a part of the super cool moms who can say things like, "Oh! I juggle baby and career...yes, I know...it's tough, I manage somehow." Woohoo!
Also, let's not forget, I turn ...shh...silence.... THIRTY in a few days! And so, I plan to get drunk and pass out on my birthday. Just like Monica. Whee! What fun!
Oh wait.
I don't drink. Oh well. I guess I will just turn thirty quietly mulling about my many achievements and glories.
Wait a minute.
There aren't that many. In fact I can't think of any except little r~.
Hmm...
Huh...
Yup, thought of one more.
This blog!
Love you blog and love you readers.
RS exits waving happy kisses at one and all, peacefully ready to step into the big three-O.
February 06, 2009
2007 Dec - 2009 Feb
I haven't written anything substantial here or on pen and paper for a long time. I shamelessly blame it on the baby :)
For now, I want to write because I feel homesick and hopefully writing would help alleviate some of it. k's sis, p~ left today to India for good and that makes me homesick for 2 reasons - that she left and that she left to India for good, something that I have started thinking about the past few months.
I remember when p~ came to the US in Dec of 2007. She was so homesick, she cried most of the time she spent with us. k and I spent a week or so in Kansas and while we had a blast, she was not her usual enthusiastic self. I remember an incident at Buca-di-beppo at Kansas city. The waiter there entertained us with some jokes. I laughed and turned to look at p~, who was on the phone with people back home, crying! That image stuck in my mind.
And now, p~ has made so many friends at KU that she cried once again, this time because she was leaving her new friends in the US behind. And much to k's amusement, they are all Tam friends! She has seen more recent Tam movies than I have!
Seeing her leave made me realize that 2 years flew by in a jiffy. She is a different person for her experience; And me? I am not sure if I have changed much. I am still in Lex doing pretty much the same things I did back then. But for my chakarakatti and 15 extra pounds, I am pretty much the same. I felt bad that she had to leave her friends behind and go back to India but I also envied her that. That she had managed to make so many friends in so short a time - she has this air about her that makes you want to confide everything to her, and then wait for her response. Unselfish and un-selfcentered - not many people I know are like that.
I wonder if I would be able to leave everything behind and start a new life in India. What would I miss most about Lex? Hard to say now. k says we are some how bound to UK. I met him at the university, we settled down near it and by a strange twist of events, I even had my baby at UK, something that was not planned at all. Maybe he is right, maybe this is our destiny and we will remain bound to this place for life.
Who knows what the future can bring...
For now, I want to write because I feel homesick and hopefully writing would help alleviate some of it. k's sis, p~ left today to India for good and that makes me homesick for 2 reasons - that she left and that she left to India for good, something that I have started thinking about the past few months.
I remember when p~ came to the US in Dec of 2007. She was so homesick, she cried most of the time she spent with us. k and I spent a week or so in Kansas and while we had a blast, she was not her usual enthusiastic self. I remember an incident at Buca-di-beppo at Kansas city. The waiter there entertained us with some jokes. I laughed and turned to look at p~, who was on the phone with people back home, crying! That image stuck in my mind.
And now, p~ has made so many friends at KU that she cried once again, this time because she was leaving her new friends in the US behind. And much to k's amusement, they are all Tam friends! She has seen more recent Tam movies than I have!
Seeing her leave made me realize that 2 years flew by in a jiffy. She is a different person for her experience; And me? I am not sure if I have changed much. I am still in Lex doing pretty much the same things I did back then. But for my chakarakatti and 15 extra pounds, I am pretty much the same. I felt bad that she had to leave her friends behind and go back to India but I also envied her that. That she had managed to make so many friends in so short a time - she has this air about her that makes you want to confide everything to her, and then wait for her response. Unselfish and un-selfcentered - not many people I know are like that.
I wonder if I would be able to leave everything behind and start a new life in India. What would I miss most about Lex? Hard to say now. k says we are some how bound to UK. I met him at the university, we settled down near it and by a strange twist of events, I even had my baby at UK, something that was not planned at all. Maybe he is right, maybe this is our destiny and we will remain bound to this place for life.
Who knows what the future can bring...
February 02, 2009
Our first power-cut!
Power-cut during ice storm. Electric heating. Baby in the house.
And so we drove in the middle of the ice-storm to B&P's place. And believe it or not, I took pictures on the way :p
And so we drove in the middle of the ice-storm to B&P's place. And believe it or not, I took pictures on the way :p
January 26, 2009
Happy Republic Day!
Thought this would be an appropriate post today:
http://knowledge.wharton.upenn.edu/india/papers/Return_to_India.pdf
http://knowledge.wharton.upenn.edu/india/papers/Return_to_India.pdf
January 21, 2009
Scary stuff.
Life is one whirlwind, roller-coaster ride with a baby. Being a first-time mom seems to be even more challenging. You hardly have time to breathe a sigh of relief that the nine long months have come to a happy end, you have several other worries to deal with now, not just, "I hope the baby is safe inside", now it's a potpourri of issues about baby's health, behavior, growth, milestones, your own recovery, nursing, sleep-deprivation and a totally out-of-wac endocrine system!
Gak! I bet a few of you read this post today and decided to maybe wait some more time, say a year or two, before you have kids!
Anyway, baby~r gave me a scare today by deciding to not breathe for a few seconds while crying. That was scary! Scarier than the time when I almost drowned in the local gym pool. The latter had a kind of finality about it, I thought, "Ok, here we go. I guess I am drowing, when does the life-flashing business start? blubb blubb blubb".
The dear husband had cautioned me against swimming past the blue flags and so that's what I did.
I swam till the blue flags and abruptly stopped.
I went down.
And further down.
Only my feet did not touch ground when I thought they would and so I went almost a feet below the water surface and kept bobbing up and down like in a really weird comic routine.
The other time I was really scared was the time I lost my identity after graduating from Bits, Pilani. With a somewhat decent 8.75 GPA, related grade sheets, 10th and 12th report cards, passpost, birthcertificate and cash, I boarded a bus from Pilani to Delhi with a bunch of my friends. Now, I have never been any good at packing suitcases. And since I had everything that defined my four college years in Bits to pack, I did what I could and ended up with thirteen pieces of luggage! One of them was a regal looking suitcase with all the important documents that defined...me. When we got off the bus, I very carefully collected my paraphernalia and got down and started counting them. I counted twelve, recounted and wondered what I was missing. Of course, the suitcase. I looked up and suddenly the bus was gone. With my precious suitcase.
Then, I went a bit crazy. I tried to run behind the bus in traffic and one of my friends stopped me and made me sit down. A couple of my friends even rented an auto to chase the bus but came back because that particular bus was lost in a sea of similar looking buses.
I cried and then cried some more, didn't eat for a day. I called my dad from a pay phone and told him the whole story. When I boarded the Delhi-Chennai TN express, I was still crying and hadn't eaten for more than a day.
And then the magic happened. The train stopped at Baroda maybe? for a few minutes and a stranger boarded my compartment and handed a box of sweets to me. He was my dad's materials-supplier and the best part, he held my suitcase in his hand. My dad had managed to track down the bus in Pilani and to get someone to collect the suitcase and hand it over to his colleague. I was thrilled! He then called my dad on his cell and handed the phone to me. I was too deliriously happy to say anything that made sense at that time. He got off the train just before the bell rang for the train to leave the station.
And then my friends gave me ice cream. Yeah, I know, just like in those movies where things mysteriously appear. I think one of them bought an ice cream for me because I hadn't eaten for a day. That was the yummiest ice cream I have had till now!
Ok enough of scary experiences. I don't want nightmares! Goodnight people!
Gak! I bet a few of you read this post today and decided to maybe wait some more time, say a year or two, before you have kids!
Anyway, baby~r gave me a scare today by deciding to not breathe for a few seconds while crying. That was scary! Scarier than the time when I almost drowned in the local gym pool. The latter had a kind of finality about it, I thought, "Ok, here we go. I guess I am drowing, when does the life-flashing business start? blubb blubb blubb".
The dear husband had cautioned me against swimming past the blue flags and so that's what I did.
I swam till the blue flags and abruptly stopped.
I went down.
And further down.
Only my feet did not touch ground when I thought they would and so I went almost a feet below the water surface and kept bobbing up and down like in a really weird comic routine.
The other time I was really scared was the time I lost my identity after graduating from Bits, Pilani. With a somewhat decent 8.75 GPA, related grade sheets, 10th and 12th report cards, passpost, birthcertificate and cash, I boarded a bus from Pilani to Delhi with a bunch of my friends. Now, I have never been any good at packing suitcases. And since I had everything that defined my four college years in Bits to pack, I did what I could and ended up with thirteen pieces of luggage! One of them was a regal looking suitcase with all the important documents that defined...me. When we got off the bus, I very carefully collected my paraphernalia and got down and started counting them. I counted twelve, recounted and wondered what I was missing. Of course, the suitcase. I looked up and suddenly the bus was gone. With my precious suitcase.
Then, I went a bit crazy. I tried to run behind the bus in traffic and one of my friends stopped me and made me sit down. A couple of my friends even rented an auto to chase the bus but came back because that particular bus was lost in a sea of similar looking buses.
I cried and then cried some more, didn't eat for a day. I called my dad from a pay phone and told him the whole story. When I boarded the Delhi-Chennai TN express, I was still crying and hadn't eaten for more than a day.
And then the magic happened. The train stopped at Baroda maybe? for a few minutes and a stranger boarded my compartment and handed a box of sweets to me. He was my dad's materials-supplier and the best part, he held my suitcase in his hand. My dad had managed to track down the bus in Pilani and to get someone to collect the suitcase and hand it over to his colleague. I was thrilled! He then called my dad on his cell and handed the phone to me. I was too deliriously happy to say anything that made sense at that time. He got off the train just before the bell rang for the train to leave the station.
And then my friends gave me ice cream. Yeah, I know, just like in those movies where things mysteriously appear. I think one of them bought an ice cream for me because I hadn't eaten for a day. That was the yummiest ice cream I have had till now!
Ok enough of scary experiences. I don't want nightmares! Goodnight people!
January 10, 2009
January 06, 2009
What's the deal with baby dresses?
I don't get it. Sometimes a onesie meant for a 3 month old is right for the baby and sometimes a nightdress meant for a 9 month old is tight! Mom says she always bought dresses which were double my size when I was a kid. So, I was always running around half-tripping on my own dresses!
These onesies below are both for a 12 month old baby; obviously the companies had very different ideas about how big a 12 month old baby should be!
These onesies below are both for a 12 month old baby; obviously the companies had very different ideas about how big a 12 month old baby should be!
January 01, 2009
2009.
Carry over resolutions from previous year:
1. Write a book
2. Bury an old hurt
3. Participate in a movie marathon
4. Pretend to be relaxed mom - get a massage (This one is really a new resolution)
5. Say "I am sorry" without a "but" at least once this year
6. Catch up on dancing
7. Call an old friend (This one is especially hard, much easier to email)
8. Get teeth checked (Well, I need at least one resolution that I can actually fulfill)
9. Catch up with a close relative (Yeah, I know, such is our times)
10. Do nothing
Now that I have completed spending 5 minutes in the new year making resolutions that I will not remember even a day from now, let me get on with other things that I will actually do this year :p
Wish you a cheerful and fun-filled new year!
1. Write a book
2. Bury an old hurt
3. Participate in a movie marathon
4. Pretend to be relaxed mom - get a massage (This one is really a new resolution)
5. Say "I am sorry" without a "but" at least once this year
6. Catch up on dancing
7. Call an old friend (This one is especially hard, much easier to email)
8. Get teeth checked (Well, I need at least one resolution that I can actually fulfill)
9. Catch up with a close relative (Yeah, I know, such is our times)
10. Do nothing
Now that I have completed spending 5 minutes in the new year making resolutions that I will not remember even a day from now, let me get on with other things that I will actually do this year :p
Wish you a cheerful and fun-filled new year!
December 28, 2008
Nayagan and everything Tam.
We watched Nayagan today on K TV. This time, I managed not to cry at all. The last time I saw the movie was about 7 years back. k and I were good friends back then and I managed to convince k and his roommate, Swami to watch Nayagan with me. Although Swami's mother-tongue was Tamil, he was a typical Bombayite like k - meaning, he began all his sentences with, "Abe saale...". So, anyway, we started watching it and all of us became quite involved with the movie (Of course, such is the nature of Nayagan).
There was this really touching scene in the movie where Kamal Hassan asks to see his grandson for the first time and his daughter refuses and Kamal Hassan tries to deal with the denial, hide his tears while hoping his daughter would change her mind and he would catch a glimpse of his grandson. I watched this scene and started crying silently. k and Swami were caught up in the scene and one of them turned to share something about the scene with me. Once they realized I was crying, the intense emotional scene was soon forgotten and I became the target of their attention. Not that they were nice and they consoled me or anything. They mainly made fun of me. And that was when I realized I would never ever watch this movie again with people who do not get as seriously involved in it as I do.
And today, I forgot all about that resolution and watched the movie with k. After the very same scene, he suddenly looked at me and said, "Wait! Isn't this the same scene for which you started crying that day? Ha haaaa!"
And the moment was lost all over again.
I swear, I will not watch Nayagan a third time with k. And if I ever do, it will only be because I know he is going to cry seeing the same scene again!
Anyway, he agreed that it was indeed a good movie and that mollified me a bit. This whole discussion reminds me of another incident.
Many years back, when k was still a novice at everything Tamil, I used to tell him that I could not marry him unless he was familiar with "Mouna Ragam". I was very excited when k sat down to watch the movie and I made sure he caught all the nuances in the movie. And since then, whenever the topic of Tamil movies comes up, k goes, "Whaaa? You haven't seen Mouna Ragam, how dare you exist?" and so on. Serves me right for wanting to share Mouna Ragam with him :p
The other association that he makes with Tamil folks is "Thayir sadam". He makes this ridiculous gesture of slurping gooey rice from his hands all the way to his elbow as if to say we eat thayir sadam like that! Jeez! How can someone not like thayir sadam? Beats me! A year back, we had gone to Atlanta to visit my maama. k, my cousin and I were shopping and we decided to take a to-go for dinner. We were at this amazing desi store called "Shayona" and k got really excited seeing home made kachori, samosas, chola etc in the store. So, he picked up a bunch of "tiffin" items and looked at my cousin and said, "Cool! Let's have this for dinner!" She gave him a weird look and said, "Saadam?" The concept of wrapping up a nice dinner with thayir sadam is lost time and again on poor k. But after the Atlanta incident, he remembers that "Tams" don't do dinner without their beloved thachi mammam :p
There was this really touching scene in the movie where Kamal Hassan asks to see his grandson for the first time and his daughter refuses and Kamal Hassan tries to deal with the denial, hide his tears while hoping his daughter would change her mind and he would catch a glimpse of his grandson. I watched this scene and started crying silently. k and Swami were caught up in the scene and one of them turned to share something about the scene with me. Once they realized I was crying, the intense emotional scene was soon forgotten and I became the target of their attention. Not that they were nice and they consoled me or anything. They mainly made fun of me. And that was when I realized I would never ever watch this movie again with people who do not get as seriously involved in it as I do.
And today, I forgot all about that resolution and watched the movie with k. After the very same scene, he suddenly looked at me and said, "Wait! Isn't this the same scene for which you started crying that day? Ha haaaa!"
And the moment was lost all over again.
I swear, I will not watch Nayagan a third time with k. And if I ever do, it will only be because I know he is going to cry seeing the same scene again!
Anyway, he agreed that it was indeed a good movie and that mollified me a bit. This whole discussion reminds me of another incident.
Many years back, when k was still a novice at everything Tamil, I used to tell him that I could not marry him unless he was familiar with "Mouna Ragam". I was very excited when k sat down to watch the movie and I made sure he caught all the nuances in the movie. And since then, whenever the topic of Tamil movies comes up, k goes, "Whaaa? You haven't seen Mouna Ragam, how dare you exist?" and so on. Serves me right for wanting to share Mouna Ragam with him :p
The other association that he makes with Tamil folks is "Thayir sadam". He makes this ridiculous gesture of slurping gooey rice from his hands all the way to his elbow as if to say we eat thayir sadam like that! Jeez! How can someone not like thayir sadam? Beats me! A year back, we had gone to Atlanta to visit my maama. k, my cousin and I were shopping and we decided to take a to-go for dinner. We were at this amazing desi store called "Shayona" and k got really excited seeing home made kachori, samosas, chola etc in the store. So, he picked up a bunch of "tiffin" items and looked at my cousin and said, "Cool! Let's have this for dinner!" She gave him a weird look and said, "Saadam?" The concept of wrapping up a nice dinner with thayir sadam is lost time and again on poor k. But after the Atlanta incident, he remembers that "Tams" don't do dinner without their beloved thachi mammam :p
December 25, 2008
Murphy baby,
Edited: Thanks to Rushu's comment, finally found the picture:
Edited: Thanks to Shanmugapriya, here is a nice picture of Murphy baby!
Below is a tiny photo on the left of the radio:
Photo courtesy: Santhosh
Do any of you remember the phrase, "Murphy baby"? I vaguely remember seeing a black and white photo of this really cute, chubby kid on advertisements. My memory is probably served more by my mom's descriptions of the baby rather than faded images that I saw in my childhood. My mom said the baby was the advertising mascot for Indian radio.
So, do any one of you happen to remember how the baby looked? I looked on google and couldn't find one and for some reason I feel like looking at a picture of this baby.
 |
| Murphy baby (Source: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=364681406908569&set=a.323079557735421.80608.100001001383459&type=3&theater) |
Edited: Thanks to Shanmugapriya, here is a nice picture of Murphy baby!
Below is a tiny photo on the left of the radio:
Photo courtesy: Santhosh
Do any of you remember the phrase, "Murphy baby"? I vaguely remember seeing a black and white photo of this really cute, chubby kid on advertisements. My memory is probably served more by my mom's descriptions of the baby rather than faded images that I saw in my childhood. My mom said the baby was the advertising mascot for Indian radio.
So, do any one of you happen to remember how the baby looked? I looked on google and couldn't find one and for some reason I feel like looking at a picture of this baby.
December 24, 2008
Men don't ask for directions.
"What are you doing?"
"Trying to fix the garage shutter."
"Look up yellow pages."
k rummages through pages and pages of old manuals to find our garage manual, "No, I think I can fix it. Give me a few minutes."
A few hours later, I find k sitting on top of our car squinting at the motor hanging from the ceiling of our garage.
"Are you coming to dinner?"
"Give me a few, I am trying to figure this out..."
An hour later k eats dinner in silence poring over the hefty manual.
I give him a gentle reminder, "You know you can have someone fix this for you, it's not worth your time."
"I can get the part for it. I think I know what the problem is. If I get the guy to fix it, he's going to charge $170 unnecessarily."
It's midnight and I still hearing sounds of metal clanging in the garage. I resist the urge to advise and wait. k comes up in a few minutes with something in his hand that looks like a jagged wheel made out of paper balanced on a pointy steel stick.
"You see the problem?", he says pointing to the wheel, "This, here has worn out. So I just need to get a replacement for it."
Next day, k finishes his coffee in a record time of 5 minutes and rushes to the store to get the part. He returns in a couple of hours waving the parts victoriously (Amma, naan paas agiten style).
"I should be done in half an hour."
Half an hour later, I find k in the now familiar on-top-of-car position again, squinting at the wheel in the motor.
I give up and walk back in.
3 hours later, k comes in looking somewhat exhausted and defeated, his hands black from whatever it is that motor ejected on him.
"Want to call the guy?"
"If my test run fails, yes, am planning to..."
Men are like that. They will not ask for help if their life depends on it.
Five minutes later, k walks in looking somewhat more exhausted.
"Want to call the guy?"
"Let me wash my hands first and then clean up and then..."
And so on. Postpone the asking-for-help bit as much as possible.
Finally, surprise! k calls the guy after a record 8 hours of working on the garage.
"He said 70 bucks. If I had known earlier, I would have probably called him yesterday."
Yeah. I bet you would have called him.
"Trying to fix the garage shutter."
"Look up yellow pages."
k rummages through pages and pages of old manuals to find our garage manual, "No, I think I can fix it. Give me a few minutes."
A few hours later, I find k sitting on top of our car squinting at the motor hanging from the ceiling of our garage.
"Are you coming to dinner?"
"Give me a few, I am trying to figure this out..."
An hour later k eats dinner in silence poring over the hefty manual.
I give him a gentle reminder, "You know you can have someone fix this for you, it's not worth your time."
"I can get the part for it. I think I know what the problem is. If I get the guy to fix it, he's going to charge $170 unnecessarily."
It's midnight and I still hearing sounds of metal clanging in the garage. I resist the urge to advise and wait. k comes up in a few minutes with something in his hand that looks like a jagged wheel made out of paper balanced on a pointy steel stick.
"You see the problem?", he says pointing to the wheel, "This, here has worn out. So I just need to get a replacement for it."
Next day, k finishes his coffee in a record time of 5 minutes and rushes to the store to get the part. He returns in a couple of hours waving the parts victoriously (Amma, naan paas agiten style).
"I should be done in half an hour."
Half an hour later, I find k in the now familiar on-top-of-car position again, squinting at the wheel in the motor.
I give up and walk back in.
3 hours later, k comes in looking somewhat exhausted and defeated, his hands black from whatever it is that motor ejected on him.
"Want to call the guy?"
"If my test run fails, yes, am planning to..."
Men are like that. They will not ask for help if their life depends on it.
Five minutes later, k walks in looking somewhat more exhausted.
"Want to call the guy?"
"Let me wash my hands first and then clean up and then..."
And so on. Postpone the asking-for-help bit as much as possible.
Finally, surprise! k calls the guy after a record 8 hours of working on the garage.
"He said 70 bucks. If I had known earlier, I would have probably called him yesterday."
Yeah. I bet you would have called him.
December 18, 2008
Twinkle twinkle little star...
So baby r~ decided she didn't want to nap like babies are supposed to, she decided to stay awake all afternoon today and I was running out of ideas to entertain her. k decided that nursery rhymes would do the trick and lull her to sleep. So he did what every dad would do - he looked on google :p and he came across this rendition of "Twinkle twinkle little star". I had a feeling k enjoyed it more than r!
December 15, 2008
Being a parent.
If you are one of those people that wondered what it feels like to be newbie parents and what the big deal is about, you are reading the right stuff now :p Or, if you are just being nice to me and reading my post just for the heck of it, that's cool too :)
Remember how we used to consider couples with kids a whole different set of people? People with hefty bags filled with diapers and related paraphernalia, people that were concerned more about their baby's spit-ups rather than their appearance, people that could not talk about anything other than their baby, people with a somewhat needy little one clawing for their attention constantly? We were not them. We even found it hard to imagine how life would be when we became them. Some of us even wondered what "unconditional love" meant. We heard words like sleepless, poop, diapers, doctors and wondered how we would ever inhabit a world filled with those words...
And guess what? Suddenly we are very much in that world. We are now parents that, no matter how interesting a conversation with someone is, always have one eye tracking our baby, we hardly give a second thought to what "poop" used to mean in our older worlds, focusing rather on its texture, smell and contents to smile or frown with concern, we talk less about "I" and more about the baby, we learn that absolute happiness has to do with a lot more than just some "me-time" and we worry. We worry all the time about the little life that we created and hope that it smiles back at us with that adorable, charming, heart-melting, lopsided grin today, tomorrow and forever...
We are now the parents.
Remember how we used to consider couples with kids a whole different set of people? People with hefty bags filled with diapers and related paraphernalia, people that were concerned more about their baby's spit-ups rather than their appearance, people that could not talk about anything other than their baby, people with a somewhat needy little one clawing for their attention constantly? We were not them. We even found it hard to imagine how life would be when we became them. Some of us even wondered what "unconditional love" meant. We heard words like sleepless, poop, diapers, doctors and wondered how we would ever inhabit a world filled with those words...
And guess what? Suddenly we are very much in that world. We are now parents that, no matter how interesting a conversation with someone is, always have one eye tracking our baby, we hardly give a second thought to what "poop" used to mean in our older worlds, focusing rather on its texture, smell and contents to smile or frown with concern, we talk less about "I" and more about the baby, we learn that absolute happiness has to do with a lot more than just some "me-time" and we worry. We worry all the time about the little life that we created and hope that it smiles back at us with that adorable, charming, heart-melting, lopsided grin today, tomorrow and forever...
We are now the parents.
November 25, 2008
Baby and everything else.
Everything is a blur. Everything is crystal clear. Moments of insanity interspersed with moments of bliss. Chaos and stillness coexist.
Babies can do this to you and much more.
And in between all this, I managed to notice a silvery glow in the sun. A strand of white in an unruly mass of black. And it happened much before I hit my mid-life crisis. And the unlikely discovery took place in the middle of a conversation between k's mom and me. I was describing r's antics to her absently twirling a bit of hair in my index finger (an annoying habit I picked up from a girl at Bits) and the glint distracted me. I stopped speaking for a while and held the strand of white hair in my hand and gasped.
"Mummy, mera baal saphed ho gaya he"
k's mom, being the nice woman she is, gasped along with me, heard the anguish in my voice and commiserated with me. A few moments of silence and she cautions that I should not remove it else two would sprout in it's place. Yeeesh.
Later I reasoned. One white hair after one baby. Not a bad deal after all.
r does the funniest things.
Wait a minute...I am not going to be one of those moms that constantly talk about their kids.
Hmm, on second thoughts, I don't mind being that mom :)
So, the other day r woke up from deep sleep and she had the weirdest expression on her face, like she had forgotten that she was born! She looked to her left and then to her right and stared at me with the biggest eyes possible, as if to ask, "Wrong exit?"
The funny thing about marriages like ours (N.Indian weds S.Indian) is...actually there are a lot of funny things, conflicts if you will like:
coffee vs tea
rice vs roti
veshti vs what-do-they-call-it-pyjamas?
and now a brand new addition to the repertoire - thooli vs ghodiyu
So, we, meaning k & I, have this thing called a ghodiyu which swings neatly and r has been kind enough to start sleeping in it now. We, meaning S.Indians, use something called a thooli to rock kids to sleep. It's a hammock that's hung from the ceiling rather than from a stand and it's more closed (to resemble the womb). My mom is convinced that a thooli is the ideal sleep solution for r. k meanwhile is thrilled that we try to put r to sleep in a contraption similar to what he refused to sleep on as a baby :p
r meanwhile assumes it's play time whenever we put her in the ghodiyu. She gives this really flirty grin to the decorative stick above her that holds the ghodiyu together and starts playing.
Personally, I doubt she will sleep well in a thooli either. Babies just aren't designed to sleep like adults unless of course it's an $$amby baby$$ :p
k claims he can no longer be the "good husband". Apparently the warranty ran out six weeks postpartum.
"Let's see 9 months of pregnancy plus 6 weeks after birth. Yup, now I can stop being so nice..."
"So now you go back to being you again?"
"Basically yes."
"You are a !@#$$$%"
"Not in front of the baby!"
I have never considered myself "girly" nor did people give me that impression until sometime ago. Anyway, I rediscovered a girly part of myself with a quick stitch kit. You know how you always see this picture of a happy, heavily pregnant mom knitting her way to glory? Well, I took a short cut and did this instead (I just had to show off here!):
Proud sigh.
Babies can do this to you and much more.
And in between all this, I managed to notice a silvery glow in the sun. A strand of white in an unruly mass of black. And it happened much before I hit my mid-life crisis. And the unlikely discovery took place in the middle of a conversation between k's mom and me. I was describing r's antics to her absently twirling a bit of hair in my index finger (an annoying habit I picked up from a girl at Bits) and the glint distracted me. I stopped speaking for a while and held the strand of white hair in my hand and gasped.
"Mummy, mera baal saphed ho gaya he"
k's mom, being the nice woman she is, gasped along with me, heard the anguish in my voice and commiserated with me. A few moments of silence and she cautions that I should not remove it else two would sprout in it's place. Yeeesh.
Later I reasoned. One white hair after one baby. Not a bad deal after all.
***
r does the funniest things.
Wait a minute...I am not going to be one of those moms that constantly talk about their kids.
Hmm, on second thoughts, I don't mind being that mom :)
So, the other day r woke up from deep sleep and she had the weirdest expression on her face, like she had forgotten that she was born! She looked to her left and then to her right and stared at me with the biggest eyes possible, as if to ask, "Wrong exit?"
***
The funny thing about marriages like ours (N.Indian weds S.Indian) is...actually there are a lot of funny things, conflicts if you will like:
coffee vs tea
rice vs roti
veshti vs what-do-they-call-it-pyjamas?
and now a brand new addition to the repertoire - thooli vs ghodiyu
So, we, meaning k & I, have this thing called a ghodiyu which swings neatly and r has been kind enough to start sleeping in it now. We, meaning S.Indians, use something called a thooli to rock kids to sleep. It's a hammock that's hung from the ceiling rather than from a stand and it's more closed (to resemble the womb). My mom is convinced that a thooli is the ideal sleep solution for r. k meanwhile is thrilled that we try to put r to sleep in a contraption similar to what he refused to sleep on as a baby :p
r meanwhile assumes it's play time whenever we put her in the ghodiyu. She gives this really flirty grin to the decorative stick above her that holds the ghodiyu together and starts playing.
Personally, I doubt she will sleep well in a thooli either. Babies just aren't designed to sleep like adults unless of course it's an $$amby baby$$ :p
***
k claims he can no longer be the "good husband". Apparently the warranty ran out six weeks postpartum.
"Let's see 9 months of pregnancy plus 6 weeks after birth. Yup, now I can stop being so nice..."
"So now you go back to being you again?"
"Basically yes."
"You are a !@#$$$%"
"Not in front of the baby!"
***
I have never considered myself "girly" nor did people give me that impression until sometime ago. Anyway, I rediscovered a girly part of myself with a quick stitch kit. You know how you always see this picture of a happy, heavily pregnant mom knitting her way to glory? Well, I took a short cut and did this instead (I just had to show off here!):
Proud sigh.
November 18, 2008
The man at the bottom of the stairs.
"The man at the bottom of the stairs. By RS."
This sounds like one of those story reading sessions that come on TV. You know what I mean? Usually it's a local channel and there is a still picture of the book and a serious sounding voice reading from the book. If you don't know what am talking about just forget you read this bit and say "Man at the bottom of the stairs" in a grave voice, that should do it.
Anyway coming to the man in question, that would be my dear significant other, k. He has now accomplished the surprisingly tricky task of falling down our stairs three times. I am tempted to say four but that one time he just missed, falling down the stairs that is. He somehow managed to find his delicate sense of balance and stay put on a step.
He always has a valid reason for falling down. I almost bought his story the first time. Of course now am wise. Now I know that his falling down the stairs can be explained by a complex equation involving many variables including the universe, balance, karma and sloth.
The first time he said he was jetlagged and thought he was walking on level land and hence fell down the stairs. Fair enough, we had just returned from India and I convinced myself that it could happen to anyone. No broken bones, so we were good.
The second time, I was an active participant in his fall. No, I didn't push him (very funny) but I did try to save him. Rather brave of me. It didn't really work out but hey, it's the thought that counts. Yeah I know, k is not very convinced with that line of argument either. So what I did was hold out my hand to prevent or at least deter-progress-of his bumpy ride down the stairs but I realized a split second late that I was not endowed with giant arms. So my arm kind of hung in the air as k went down the stairs. Bump! Bump! Bump! When I saw him sitting down the stairs holding his sides, I was terrified and also had an inexplicable urge to laugh. Nope, k didn't approve of that urge either.
The third incident is pretty recent. And I have only myself to blame (No, again, it's not what you think, jeez!). So after the first two incidents, I had gotten into this routine of reminding k not to fall down the stairs. It kind of became a habit. Every time he would go near the stairs, I would automatically say, "k, don't fall down the stairs" and it was all pretty effective. But after a few months, we both grew complacent. I stopped reminding him each time and he assumed he was super man again which means he would go down the stairs 3 at a time and then try 5 and so on. So last week, super-k did just that and Radhu and I heard a thud! thud! thud!
So that's the story about the man at the bottom of the stairs (sounds almost like Harry Potter living under the stairs minus the magical powers). And for the next few months am back on auto pilot reminding k not to fall down the stairs and k believes he is just-k not super-k, so he takes the stairs one at a time.
November 08, 2008
What this is not about.
My birth story
I thought of writing a birth story. As one of my friends put it, Radhu's birth was eventful enough to talk about it for quite sometime. But then, somewhere between midnight feedings and diaper changes I lost the enthusiasm to write about it. I did note down a pretty extensive story in my diary though. When Radhu is 16 and talking back at me, I plan to show her the diary entry, just like Marie (Arrgg, it's finally happened. I am planning to be like Marie of all people!):
Ray -"No"
Marie - "Oh the agony...when I carried you for nine months..."
Ray - "Ok mom, not that story again. I'll do it")
So anyway, I didn't write the birth story here. So, this post is not about that.
Drishti
Just like in any TamBram family, as soon as an auspicious event occurs, there is extensive discussion about drishti (nazar) and even more elaborate ways to circumvent it. For instance, inviting a 100 people to your new house for the house warming ceremony, these people being likely drishti candidates. Now, what defines a drishti candidate (i,e a drishti putter)?
A drishti putter is someone who is likely to see your fine new house and go, "Gosh! Look at their biiiiig house! It's so neat and shiny! Wish I had one like this" and then lo and behold! The east entrance of the house crumbles down because of a rare species of malfunctionaing termites. You get the point. So coming back to the discussion, a new house owner wishing to avoid drishti should invite the most likely 100 drishti putters (it's kind of like the flu vaccine, you select the most probable strains!) and then offer good food to them to avoid their drishti. Yup, we TamBrams sure know how to beat the "casters" of the evil eye!
I wanted to note down my thoughts on drishti but then I was so overwhelmed by the amount of rules and regulations for avoiding drishti for new baby and mom that I forgot to note them down here. (To be fair, my mom has been pretty lax about imposing them on me which is sweet of her...just in case she reads this post :p)
So this post is not about drishti.
Homesickness
What do you call it when you are homesick at home? That's what I have been having intermittently for the past several weeks. And I blame it on my house guests. My dad initially flew in for a week, followed by my brother for 10 days and then my sis-in-law for 10 days. And everytime they leave, I feel homesick all over again. I even considered going to Madras for a couple of months. Being a new mom puts certain things in perspective or way out of perspective. Which is pretty much how being a normal person is but anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah, perspective. So you a new mom and you start thinking about how much quality time the grandparents are missing back in India and then you start thinking about moving back to India for good and then your husband goes like, "Whaa? Is this some weird manifestation of baby blues that has my wife suggesting sudden life changes?"
But after six weeks postpartum, I gave up the idea (at least for the time being). So, I couldn't really write about an India trip.
Baby Talk
Ever been in one of those mildly embarassing situations where the parents of a baby excitedly tell us "Oh you should see him doing this, it's so funny..." and then they prompt the baby with all the sweet talk they can muster. The baby of course does its own thing. He gives them a blank look and refuses to do the cute antic he was supposed to do. Even worse, he acts like he did not even begin to understand the request. I am waiting for the time when that's going to happen to k and me. I always told myself I should remember not to do that but am pretty sure I am going to do it. I could write something about funny baby stuff like that but I keep forgetting what else I had to say. All thoughts keep getting entangled with a steady flow of drowsiness.
So that's all the stuff that I did not write here. Until I have some coherent thoughts that I can pen down, this is what my blog is going to be about. Little nothings :)
I thought of writing a birth story. As one of my friends put it, Radhu's birth was eventful enough to talk about it for quite sometime. But then, somewhere between midnight feedings and diaper changes I lost the enthusiasm to write about it. I did note down a pretty extensive story in my diary though. When Radhu is 16 and talking back at me, I plan to show her the diary entry, just like Marie (Arrgg, it's finally happened. I am planning to be like Marie of all people!):
Ray -"No"
Marie - "Oh the agony...when I carried you for nine months..."
Ray - "Ok mom, not that story again. I'll do it")
So anyway, I didn't write the birth story here. So, this post is not about that.
Drishti
Just like in any TamBram family, as soon as an auspicious event occurs, there is extensive discussion about drishti (nazar) and even more elaborate ways to circumvent it. For instance, inviting a 100 people to your new house for the house warming ceremony, these people being likely drishti candidates. Now, what defines a drishti candidate (i,e a drishti putter)?
A drishti putter is someone who is likely to see your fine new house and go, "Gosh! Look at their biiiiig house! It's so neat and shiny! Wish I had one like this" and then lo and behold! The east entrance of the house crumbles down because of a rare species of malfunctionaing termites. You get the point. So coming back to the discussion, a new house owner wishing to avoid drishti should invite the most likely 100 drishti putters (it's kind of like the flu vaccine, you select the most probable strains!) and then offer good food to them to avoid their drishti. Yup, we TamBrams sure know how to beat the "casters" of the evil eye!
I wanted to note down my thoughts on drishti but then I was so overwhelmed by the amount of rules and regulations for avoiding drishti for new baby and mom that I forgot to note them down here. (To be fair, my mom has been pretty lax about imposing them on me which is sweet of her...just in case she reads this post :p)
So this post is not about drishti.
Homesickness
What do you call it when you are homesick at home? That's what I have been having intermittently for the past several weeks. And I blame it on my house guests. My dad initially flew in for a week, followed by my brother for 10 days and then my sis-in-law for 10 days. And everytime they leave, I feel homesick all over again. I even considered going to Madras for a couple of months. Being a new mom puts certain things in perspective or way out of perspective. Which is pretty much how being a normal person is but anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah, perspective. So you a new mom and you start thinking about how much quality time the grandparents are missing back in India and then you start thinking about moving back to India for good and then your husband goes like, "Whaa? Is this some weird manifestation of baby blues that has my wife suggesting sudden life changes?"
But after six weeks postpartum, I gave up the idea (at least for the time being). So, I couldn't really write about an India trip.
Baby Talk
Ever been in one of those mildly embarassing situations where the parents of a baby excitedly tell us "Oh you should see him doing this, it's so funny..." and then they prompt the baby with all the sweet talk they can muster. The baby of course does its own thing. He gives them a blank look and refuses to do the cute antic he was supposed to do. Even worse, he acts like he did not even begin to understand the request. I am waiting for the time when that's going to happen to k and me. I always told myself I should remember not to do that but am pretty sure I am going to do it. I could write something about funny baby stuff like that but I keep forgetting what else I had to say. All thoughts keep getting entangled with a steady flow of drowsiness.
So that's all the stuff that I did not write here. Until I have some coherent thoughts that I can pen down, this is what my blog is going to be about. Little nothings :)
October 22, 2008
Passions, Obsessions, Madnesses
Italics rock. They add quite a bit of character even to an unremarkable statement like the one below. You can safely begin these statements with "A wise person once said..." even if you just made it up impromptu:
If you dig deep enough, you will find a bit of madness in everyone, a Don Quixote living a hidden life.
Or at least my life seems like that and while I would like to be distinct enough from everyone else (no two people are alike and all that), I probably wouldn't want to stand out too much (nuttu kayanda case :) and so I attribute bits of my trait to the people around. Keeps me from wondering if am a little mad sometimes :p
k often declares (given the chance) that I jump from one obsession to another. He tells me the way he handles my "phases" are to just let me ride it out, be super passionate about something so much so that it borders on obsession and then slowly I'll get over it until the next bright thing catches my eye :p
Books, movies, people, events - they all are a part of my curiosity, passion, obsession - me:
- Like the time I watched DDLJ 7 times and dreamed about the movie. My dad worried, especially since SRK at that time acted in a bunch of psycho-movies - Baazigar, Darr, Anjam! Recently I was totally ga-ga over "Happy Days" and dived into nostalgia for more than a week!
- My obsession ("Iron will" sounds so much better :p) to join Bits when I was in eleventh grade
- My more common book-madnesses - Recently, HP, Shopaholic series, the Twilight series...
- People obsessions - this is less of an obsession than just a large amount of time and effort spent focusing on a person and "relating" to them. This kind of peaks when the relationship is still relatively new and then ebbs down to a constant. k terms this the "feelings network". He is all about being the nonchalant observer and making up theories to explain them :p
- Idea/Action obsessions - Going organic/natural/non-toxic, vaccines pros and cons, Bharatanatyam, writing...
If I think about it, it's like the rest of my life are just periods of time when am "normal", waiting to ride the next high of whatever it is that consumes my fancy, time, mental energy. Ok so, that's a whole lot of crazy in one post. To cut short a long sleep-deprived introspection, I was wondering if this is the same with everyone else, if each life is just a string of passions and obsessions tied together with moments of sanity?
Maybe I just need more sleep!
If you dig deep enough, you will find a bit of madness in everyone, a Don Quixote living a hidden life.
Or at least my life seems like that and while I would like to be distinct enough from everyone else (no two people are alike and all that), I probably wouldn't want to stand out too much (nuttu kayanda case :) and so I attribute bits of my trait to the people around. Keeps me from wondering if am a little mad sometimes :p
k often declares (given the chance) that I jump from one obsession to another. He tells me the way he handles my "phases" are to just let me ride it out, be super passionate about something so much so that it borders on obsession and then slowly I'll get over it until the next bright thing catches my eye :p
Books, movies, people, events - they all are a part of my curiosity, passion, obsession - me:
- Like the time I watched DDLJ 7 times and dreamed about the movie. My dad worried, especially since SRK at that time acted in a bunch of psycho-movies - Baazigar, Darr, Anjam! Recently I was totally ga-ga over "Happy Days" and dived into nostalgia for more than a week!
- My obsession ("Iron will" sounds so much better :p) to join Bits when I was in eleventh grade
- My more common book-madnesses - Recently, HP, Shopaholic series, the Twilight series...
- People obsessions - this is less of an obsession than just a large amount of time and effort spent focusing on a person and "relating" to them. This kind of peaks when the relationship is still relatively new and then ebbs down to a constant. k terms this the "feelings network". He is all about being the nonchalant observer and making up theories to explain them :p
- Idea/Action obsessions - Going organic/natural/non-toxic, vaccines pros and cons, Bharatanatyam, writing...
If I think about it, it's like the rest of my life are just periods of time when am "normal", waiting to ride the next high of whatever it is that consumes my fancy, time, mental energy. Ok so, that's a whole lot of crazy in one post. To cut short a long sleep-deprived introspection, I was wondering if this is the same with everyone else, if each life is just a string of passions and obsessions tied together with moments of sanity?
Maybe I just need more sleep!
October 10, 2008
Twilight - Must. Read. Now!
So, I owe part of my sanity during the last few countdown days before labor to Stephanie Meyer for her Twilight series and to a~ for introducing me to the novel. I devoured the first 3 novels of the series in 5 days and was half way through the fourth when Radhukutti decided to make an appearance :) k actually bought the hardbound versions of the 3rd and 4th book for me from Joseph Beth (the paper backs were not yet out) and was pretty smug about it (I made my pregnant wife happy, I rock etc.)
Managed to complete the fourth novel a couple of days back. Yes, it is that engrossing, haunting, touching...for some reason I thought of Harry Potter - after the last HP novel, between sighs and sniffles I thought I would never read a novel series that is quite as addictive as HP, am glad I was wrong.
Can't wait to watch the movie...Edward in my head was a bit different, even more bewitchingly handsome but I'll comment in detail once I watch the movie (provided Radhu lets me :p)
Managed to complete the fourth novel a couple of days back. Yes, it is that engrossing, haunting, touching...for some reason I thought of Harry Potter - after the last HP novel, between sighs and sniffles I thought I would never read a novel series that is quite as addictive as HP, am glad I was wrong.
Can't wait to watch the movie...Edward in my head was a bit different, even more bewitchingly handsome but I'll comment in detail once I watch the movie (provided Radhu lets me :p)
October 08, 2008
So now I know...
that socks and mittens for newborns are an eyewash. They are just something you buy thinking your precious little one will keep her little toes and fingers toasty in them. So far one sock managed to stay on for 15 minutes and that's my baby's personal record!
Happy Saraswathi Puja and Happy Vijayadasami to you all and many thanks for the good vibrations sent my way :)
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