Navratri, a 10 day festival in India is the threshold for the holiday season. Homes are adorned with rangolis with the most intricate designs and there is a festive mood all around.
South Indian culture adds to the glory of this festival by displaying dolls on odd numbered steps. Miniature parks are created with varied themes and each household out does the other in creativity. It is a great time for social gathering, and, the sounds of bells and melodious vibrations reverberate throughout the community.
Having left this behind over a decade ago, I started the doll tradition in the US about 5 years ago. My mom has been adding little trinkets of dolls over time to build my collection. During my recent trip to India, I brought another such collection.
As I carefully opened each one, my daughter’s eyes grew big with amazement at the display of clay Lilliputians around her. She was quick to beg for permission to play with them as my mom and I sat and admired the little hands placing things fondly and communicating to these inanimate objects. I was driven by the nostalgic memories these brought when I was enamored by these very things, only bigger in size. Three generations of women, each living their past or present memories at that very moment.
The excitement soon grew and she wanted to hear all about the arrangements we plan for the festivities this year and my mom told her stories of how her mom would have a grand display of 11 steps in her house. She told her stories of the many artists who would come and sing melodious recitals in praise of the many Gods and Godesses that adorned those steps. I still remember all the yummy savory and sweet snacks my grandma and great grandma prepared. I would gingerly step into the kitchen every day to get into the forbidden snack box and sneak away with a snack or two.
While, we were all engrossed in the storytelling, one little monster has crept up to the clay creations and was eying them with bated breath. My 15 month old tyrant was all ready to charge at them with all his might and leave them with missing parts. One poor cow now has a missing ear, but we managed to save the rest before any further cruelty was instilled on them.
Phew! what a difference a boy and a girl make. I have a yin yang experience with my kids, one who is a doll and keeps her stuff like a diamond that shines in the sky and other, who like the crates of the moon better
Nonetheless, I love them for what they are but I made mental notes to first invest in a safety gate to prevent the carnage on the dolls for the 10 days that they beautify my home.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Budding musician??
As I write this, my eyes well up with joy and the warmest smile is plastered on my face and I can relive the moment a thousand times and still let the same emotions run.
A lazy last afternoon, my daughter was tasked with practicing her Carnatic music to prepare for upcoming festivities. No sooner did my 15 month old son see her walk with the music box (shruthi petti), a wide grins adorns hi face and he starts chiming “Sa…”. He grabbed the box and gingerly wedged himself between my Mom and daughter and started singing “Sa Ri” in a high and low pitch as if to match the scale. If this did not stop him, he then started singing, complete with talam (beats) on his lap like a professional with self made lyrics. Every now and then, he looked at the box to make sure the volume was right, acknowledged with an “uhmm” and continued his kacheri (concert).
It was a delight to see the little master prove that he can sing just as beautifully as his sister and he would run up after a few minutes with a gleeful look, clapping his hands, looking for praise. It was a sight to hold and behold and I wish I had the camera to capture the essence of his joy. Maybe many years later, I can sit surfing these videos when they are grown up and don’t need me anymore and relive the joy I feel today as I write this post
A lazy last afternoon, my daughter was tasked with practicing her Carnatic music to prepare for upcoming festivities. No sooner did my 15 month old son see her walk with the music box (shruthi petti), a wide grins adorns hi face and he starts chiming “Sa…”. He grabbed the box and gingerly wedged himself between my Mom and daughter and started singing “Sa Ri” in a high and low pitch as if to match the scale. If this did not stop him, he then started singing, complete with talam (beats) on his lap like a professional with self made lyrics. Every now and then, he looked at the box to make sure the volume was right, acknowledged with an “uhmm” and continued his kacheri (concert).
It was a delight to see the little master prove that he can sing just as beautifully as his sister and he would run up after a few minutes with a gleeful look, clapping his hands, looking for praise. It was a sight to hold and behold and I wish I had the camera to capture the essence of his joy. Maybe many years later, I can sit surfing these videos when they are grown up and don’t need me anymore and relive the joy I feel today as I write this post
Thursday, September 3, 2009
My hometown or is it?
August, I think it went missing from my calendar. Running form pillar to post, the final arrangements and packing for the big trip was planned and executed. Five suitcases lined the hallway as we delegated home security tasks to trusted family and soon we were aboard SQ15.
After a tiresome journey handling 2 kids and a husband, I disembarked to what I remember as home. I felt a strange tickle in the throat and knew that it was indeed my hometown, but yet nothing I remembered existed on the streets lining the tall apartments that had sprouted everywhere.
After a 2 hour journey from the airport, I entered the house. All through the way, I was troubled about the lack of identity I had with Bengaluru, the city, I proudly called mine. Determined not to lose hope, I dismissed thoughts about northern Bangalore being stricken by the apartment fever. With renewed hope, I started exploring my familiar paths when we ventured outside to the many eateries that have sprouted wings, but much to my dismay, all the lovely single family homes with lush green garden were replaced with giant apartment complexes with monster driveways. Bengaluru was a concrete jungle and thats how I remember Mumbai, though my fondness for Mumbai is very strong too.
A trip to the vegetable vendor with Rs 50 in hand, fetched me supplies for a week in my days, but the current situation, Rs 50 doesn’t even fetch me vegetables for a dish. Waiters earned an average Rs 50 a day, today, they earn Rs 50 per meal per table. Cost of living has gone through the roof. While the westerns have wised up on their lifestyle, everyone in India seems to have made their investments in the evils that were shooed away from here.
I still remember the look on my husband’s face when I promised him finger licking good food at restaurants I had frequented, only to find that they were long gone. Not to forget, the innumerable one-ways we have to maneuver to get there in peak traffic. It is than that I began to wonder if it really was my home town at all.
Nothing I knew existed the way I remembered, every street had nuances of new life that the influx of MNC’s had inculcated on their appearance in the city. It amused me to read the maintain distance behind BTS buses; only to notice that the auto behind stood at hairs length. Traveling to any place, even 2 kilometers away, took well over 20 minutes. There were 6 cars lined up in a two lane road. At some point, I stopped promising a time to friends and family as there was no predicting how long the commute would take. I was always prepared with extra food, clothes and snacks for kids as road closers happened on a whim and the detours meant an additional hour.
Nothing that existed in mind still held any importance in my hometown. Now, I can only say, those were the days.
After an equally exhausting 24 hour flight back with the kids, I must admit, I missed this home just as much and all the familiarity it brought with it just made me feel like I was back in my home and this felt more like my home town.
Am I being hypocritical? I don’t know, but changes in life happen faster than you can fathom.
After a tiresome journey handling 2 kids and a husband, I disembarked to what I remember as home. I felt a strange tickle in the throat and knew that it was indeed my hometown, but yet nothing I remembered existed on the streets lining the tall apartments that had sprouted everywhere.
After a 2 hour journey from the airport, I entered the house. All through the way, I was troubled about the lack of identity I had with Bengaluru, the city, I proudly called mine. Determined not to lose hope, I dismissed thoughts about northern Bangalore being stricken by the apartment fever. With renewed hope, I started exploring my familiar paths when we ventured outside to the many eateries that have sprouted wings, but much to my dismay, all the lovely single family homes with lush green garden were replaced with giant apartment complexes with monster driveways. Bengaluru was a concrete jungle and thats how I remember Mumbai, though my fondness for Mumbai is very strong too.
A trip to the vegetable vendor with Rs 50 in hand, fetched me supplies for a week in my days, but the current situation, Rs 50 doesn’t even fetch me vegetables for a dish. Waiters earned an average Rs 50 a day, today, they earn Rs 50 per meal per table. Cost of living has gone through the roof. While the westerns have wised up on their lifestyle, everyone in India seems to have made their investments in the evils that were shooed away from here.
I still remember the look on my husband’s face when I promised him finger licking good food at restaurants I had frequented, only to find that they were long gone. Not to forget, the innumerable one-ways we have to maneuver to get there in peak traffic. It is than that I began to wonder if it really was my home town at all.
Nothing I knew existed the way I remembered, every street had nuances of new life that the influx of MNC’s had inculcated on their appearance in the city. It amused me to read the maintain distance behind BTS buses; only to notice that the auto behind stood at hairs length. Traveling to any place, even 2 kilometers away, took well over 20 minutes. There were 6 cars lined up in a two lane road. At some point, I stopped promising a time to friends and family as there was no predicting how long the commute would take. I was always prepared with extra food, clothes and snacks for kids as road closers happened on a whim and the detours meant an additional hour.
Nothing that existed in mind still held any importance in my hometown. Now, I can only say, those were the days.
After an equally exhausting 24 hour flight back with the kids, I must admit, I missed this home just as much and all the familiarity it brought with it just made me feel like I was back in my home and this felt more like my home town.
Am I being hypocritical? I don’t know, but changes in life happen faster than you can fathom.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
My daughter, my pride
As I was enjoying a nice evening with the family, I suggested blogging to my daughter. After a quick explanation from my husband about the niceties of keeping an online journal, she was sold. As her first posting, she choose to present the activities of the day. I was convinced that she'll keep it to three points and be done. Much to my surprise, she actually described each event in detail, yet simple words. She was so engrossed, she even made subtle changes on the way to reflect her deepest thoughts. I was awed by her capability to illustrate the feeling in words. Then it struck me, she was no longer the little girl I always chose to hold hands and guide. She was learning the ways of the world and had developed a sense of things around her. She was not my little baby anymore, but a young girl transitioning to adapt herself to her surroundings.
I miss her moments of innocence and play, but this stage is equally fun with a rush of new feelings and nurturing I can translate to make her a better person. I love you my sweet angel.
I miss her moments of innocence and play, but this stage is equally fun with a rush of new feelings and nurturing I can translate to make her a better person. I love you my sweet angel.
Monday, July 20, 2009
This is the moment! Enjoy it! Savor it!
Sunday afternoon is typically my time to frantically get the laundry done or prepare for the week, but today was different.
Much to my daughter’s delight, we set up a splash pool for her and her little friends to enjoy. It was a hot day, and a perfect afternoon for the kids to splash and run between the crazy sprinklers without the tyranny of the sun’s heat bothering them. Even my toddler son had a momentous time in the little waddle trying to grab water in his hand. It was a delight to hear the yell and scream of little voices and water splashing all around the bend.
I miss such events too I thought. I want to run around the sprinklers and splash through the water, but something in my mind admonished the thought. I was reminded of my age! Had I aged that much, or was I just mindful of neighbors who might condemn it as a silly act of adulthood?
Sometimes I believe, we unnecessarily read into our thoughts and prevent it from becoming an action; just to keep our false pride and sanity intact. Had I indulged in a little childish fun, I might have retired a satisfied adult to bed with a silly smile plastered on my face! Maybe next time!
Much to my daughter’s delight, we set up a splash pool for her and her little friends to enjoy. It was a hot day, and a perfect afternoon for the kids to splash and run between the crazy sprinklers without the tyranny of the sun’s heat bothering them. Even my toddler son had a momentous time in the little waddle trying to grab water in his hand. It was a delight to hear the yell and scream of little voices and water splashing all around the bend.
I miss such events too I thought. I want to run around the sprinklers and splash through the water, but something in my mind admonished the thought. I was reminded of my age! Had I aged that much, or was I just mindful of neighbors who might condemn it as a silly act of adulthood?
Sometimes I believe, we unnecessarily read into our thoughts and prevent it from becoming an action; just to keep our false pride and sanity intact. Had I indulged in a little childish fun, I might have retired a satisfied adult to bed with a silly smile plastered on my face! Maybe next time!
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Life is beautiful
I love kids and the aura of innocence they carry. A sublime epitome of God’s greatest creation, they render a presence in our lives, which overtake the essence of being into something so meaningful and beautiful, that there is no equal to it.
As a parent to young children, I am perpetually in awe of their learning abilities. Be it my toddlers’ first words or my big kids’ first on stage performance. The pride I carried was unmatched. Conversations with friends and acquaintances circled around the excellence of kids and their abilities. All of us so merrily indulge in the marvels of our kids that we are out to prove that the other is better.
Thinking back, I sometimes regret my decision to push my kids in limelight. Am I instilling a false sense of competition in them? Isn’t this the very behavior I was against building in my kids?
As a child, I recall the sheer competition and peer pressure I had to deal with and I had made a silent commitment never to subjugate my children to the same abuse. Yet, I am trying to inculcate a similar pattern in their lives.
Recently, two four year old kids brought me back to enjoying just the simple things. As I was walking, I noticed parents of the two kids trying to push their children to beat the other. After a few moments, one kid turned and said, ‘its’ just a game, not an exam, can we just be friends and not anything else?’
In everyday life, competition is so compelling, somehow we forget to let the children be kids and start dictating adulthood to them. Does it really matter if they did not win? Does it matter if my child is just average? Why the false pride and animosity? Can’t we let the children be and face the world on their terms?
In some ways, I have now terminated my involvement with competition. I have begun to tell my child to participate in activities to just make them a well rounded individual, not a shining star to rave about. Ultimate pleasure is in seeing your child happy, not a super star in the making!
Be a child with your child. Live your second childhood, here’s your chance. Make quirky faces, play mindless games and crawl on the floor to the door. Spill ice cream on your white clothes, dig mud with your bare hands, and chuckle at silly jokes. Enjoy the natural ways of stress relief and get a blissful sleep. Life is beautiful, keep it that way.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Whats that laughter?
Laughter is truly the best medicine.
A few weeks ago, a neighbor friend and I started a walking trend to start shedding the extra pregnancy pounds. After initial hurdles with whining and crying babies, the tradition turned into a routine. Much to my amazement, we have generated a few more interested parties to join our routine. Tonight, we officially rose to 5 women in the neighborhood trying to ward off the extra pounds and get healthier.
As I was walking, I realized, be it tid-bits about the saga of everyday life or the mysteries of growing pains, we all have something to share out of our daily lives and in many ways, the few minutes we spend rendering our feelings makes feel light at heart and calmer to approach the raging storms of the next day. Is this making wiser and a better person? Only time can tell, but it certainly has the effect of a persona change for the better I think.
Exercise for the mind and body, in good company, certainly initiate much needed perseverance to strive and achieve your goal! Go women power!
A few weeks ago, a neighbor friend and I started a walking trend to start shedding the extra pregnancy pounds. After initial hurdles with whining and crying babies, the tradition turned into a routine. Much to my amazement, we have generated a few more interested parties to join our routine. Tonight, we officially rose to 5 women in the neighborhood trying to ward off the extra pounds and get healthier.
As I was walking, I realized, be it tid-bits about the saga of everyday life or the mysteries of growing pains, we all have something to share out of our daily lives and in many ways, the few minutes we spend rendering our feelings makes feel light at heart and calmer to approach the raging storms of the next day. Is this making wiser and a better person? Only time can tell, but it certainly has the effect of a persona change for the better I think.
Exercise for the mind and body, in good company, certainly initiate much needed perseverance to strive and achieve your goal! Go women power!
Monday, July 13, 2009
Dad...you are special
Last morning, while I was in conversation with my daughter, she sounded absolutely delighted to have her Dad with her after three weeks. Her million calls every day before that had been replaced with just one excited and perky call to express her joy in being with her Dad.
My entire family was together, while I was 5000 miles away, reminiscing of times I have missed my Dad and it dawned upon me that, after nearly six years, I am still hoping to see him and enjoy the same experiences I had. Has it been so long, I asked myself and I began to reflect on the times we shared, the sacred father-daughter bond.
The daily ritual of engaging in political and financial news occupied our breakfast sessions and when I got married and moved 20000 miles away, he educated himself with the internet world with the sole intention of communicating with me on morning chats! Thanks technology.
Be it Thursday trips to the Raghavendra Mutt or Sunday runs to Adigas, we were always excited to make it a ritual, a father-daughter exclusive.
My trips back home was like a time travel machine, filled with everything I liked and wanted and I was overwhelmed with details that went into planning it. Dad was my magic wand, making everything I wished magically appear.
Now all that remains are memories. Memories that are untouched by the sands of time, frozen, preserved and revered for life. When I visit, I still go to the house I grew up in, somewhere hoping that I’ll find him sitting on the couch smiling the same radiant way it is etched in my memory.
My yahoo calendar just sent me an update about his upcoming birthday! Happy birthday dad! You will be missed, but celebrated in my heart. I love you.
My entire family was together, while I was 5000 miles away, reminiscing of times I have missed my Dad and it dawned upon me that, after nearly six years, I am still hoping to see him and enjoy the same experiences I had. Has it been so long, I asked myself and I began to reflect on the times we shared, the sacred father-daughter bond.
The daily ritual of engaging in political and financial news occupied our breakfast sessions and when I got married and moved 20000 miles away, he educated himself with the internet world with the sole intention of communicating with me on morning chats! Thanks technology.
Be it Thursday trips to the Raghavendra Mutt or Sunday runs to Adigas, we were always excited to make it a ritual, a father-daughter exclusive.
My trips back home was like a time travel machine, filled with everything I liked and wanted and I was overwhelmed with details that went into planning it. Dad was my magic wand, making everything I wished magically appear.
Now all that remains are memories. Memories that are untouched by the sands of time, frozen, preserved and revered for life. When I visit, I still go to the house I grew up in, somewhere hoping that I’ll find him sitting on the couch smiling the same radiant way it is etched in my memory.
My yahoo calendar just sent me an update about his upcoming birthday! Happy birthday dad! You will be missed, but celebrated in my heart. I love you.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Never under estimate anything
Never under estimate anything
Taking a break from work, I was gaining wisdom from worldly events and noticed news about bombings and mice and suddenly I was ROTFL as a flood of memories in the insanity that pursued came to me in a flash.
One evening, as I stepped in from school, I noticed the severe look on my parents face. A thousand thoughts crossed my mind and I was sure I was saintly all week with no room for trouble, yet something had occurred.
My dad sat me down and gave me ample examples of lying and its repercussions. It all seemed very irrational at the moment and finally the gamut hit the spot. I was stealing money from a secret stash that I had strangely uncovered. All my pleas went unheard as I was the only minor in the house and the other was a few hours away scoring the BE ranks!
After being admonished to my room to ponder over my mistake, my parents took to resenting their lack of proper guidance. I wanted to yell and cry that they have instilled the right values, but at the time, it was of no avail.
A few days went by and suddenly one evening, my Dad screamed for me and my Mom. We came rushing down to see my Dad going hysterical with laughter in the store room. He even managed a few apologies in between, so stunned I was to hear them, my eyes darted here and there to find him pointing to tiny bits of green paper embedded in some coconut fiber. A closer look revealed that they were indeed bits of Rs 5 bills I was accused of stealing a few days ago!
Now that I was in the clear and my parents (just for once) were wrong, I weighted down on them like a tornado about their misjudgment, adding that they raised me better, but just have to trust me more.
Now, mice had become the youngest menaces we were after! We figured out that, late at night, these monstrosities; quietly (well not so much) made their way into the kitchen storage to find things to keep them warm. The crispy bills seemed to make a perfect blanket and they happily escaped with a few. So smart, they were that it took 3 men and 2 ladies to land the bucket on 2 finger length creatures that had anchored my life to the room for 2 weeks!
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Race Against Time?
Race Against Time?
Last week, after a fair amount of internet research, I decided to plan a visit to the majestic Mt. Shasta. Anand and I needed a break from everyday life. Having overworked for three weeks in a row, Anand felt the need to stretch his arms more than I did. I had spent the previous day relentlessly packing all the toddlers needs and threw in a few of our essentials in the small window I had.
After much debate and delays, we were finally on our way on Thursday evening. After picking Gautam from SF, we stopped at the local Safeway to stock up on munchies.
Finally we were on I-80, no reservation in sight, but on route to a promising break. Out came technology; the iPhone and Crackberry browsers were initiated to research resorts in the vicinity of our destination. After some friendly banter over the inner workings and design of cell phones, a place was finalized. Calls were made and accommodations arranged. By the time we crossed the Carqinuez bridge, we were set.
The navigation system was set for our destination, and yelp was soon providing information about Starbucks and eateries on the way.
It got me thinking, back in the day, when my parents planned vacations, calls were made to a well known travel agency ahead of time to procure a sturdy vehicle and a non alcoholic driver. Days preceding the departure, yummy treats were prepared and stored in air tight containers (local vacuum packing) to preserve freshness. Clothes were ironed and piled neatly in stacks. On the day, a quick prayer to keep us healthy and safe is made and at an auspicious time, departure is set.
No maps or nav systems to guide us, simply a friendly chat with the passerby leads us to our destination. The savored snacks prove ample for our growling needs and strict rules on boiled water and food consumption, kept our health in check. Not a worry about technology or finding a local grocer to shop for our craving tongues.
Hotels chosen were strictly on word of mouth and no visuals were available to verify the location. Accommodations were always clean and no one needed the internet to research options. Our trips were way more fun and we all had a jolly good time.
Seems to me, that my parents were far more organized I am. My dependency on technology is so vast, that I will be lost without internet, cell phones, maps and reviews. My world will come to an absolute standstill if devoid of these items. Some how the race against time appeals to me over a disciplined and organized life, am I falling prey to technology?
Last week, after a fair amount of internet research, I decided to plan a visit to the majestic Mt. Shasta. Anand and I needed a break from everyday life. Having overworked for three weeks in a row, Anand felt the need to stretch his arms more than I did. I had spent the previous day relentlessly packing all the toddlers needs and threw in a few of our essentials in the small window I had.
After much debate and delays, we were finally on our way on Thursday evening. After picking Gautam from SF, we stopped at the local Safeway to stock up on munchies.
Finally we were on I-80, no reservation in sight, but on route to a promising break. Out came technology; the iPhone and Crackberry browsers were initiated to research resorts in the vicinity of our destination. After some friendly banter over the inner workings and design of cell phones, a place was finalized. Calls were made and accommodations arranged. By the time we crossed the Carqinuez bridge, we were set.
The navigation system was set for our destination, and yelp was soon providing information about Starbucks and eateries on the way.
It got me thinking, back in the day, when my parents planned vacations, calls were made to a well known travel agency ahead of time to procure a sturdy vehicle and a non alcoholic driver. Days preceding the departure, yummy treats were prepared and stored in air tight containers (local vacuum packing) to preserve freshness. Clothes were ironed and piled neatly in stacks. On the day, a quick prayer to keep us healthy and safe is made and at an auspicious time, departure is set.
No maps or nav systems to guide us, simply a friendly chat with the passerby leads us to our destination. The savored snacks prove ample for our growling needs and strict rules on boiled water and food consumption, kept our health in check. Not a worry about technology or finding a local grocer to shop for our craving tongues.
Hotels chosen were strictly on word of mouth and no visuals were available to verify the location. Accommodations were always clean and no one needed the internet to research options. Our trips were way more fun and we all had a jolly good time.
Seems to me, that my parents were far more organized I am. My dependency on technology is so vast, that I will be lost without internet, cell phones, maps and reviews. My world will come to an absolute standstill if devoid of these items. Some how the race against time appeals to me over a disciplined and organized life, am I falling prey to technology?
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Innocence and Ignorance
Innocence and Ignorance
A few days ago, after a rather tiring day, I took to the couch in the hope of getting a little respite from the everyday routine.
My one year old was busy rummaging through his older sibling precious belongings, while I blissfully adhered myself to the wonders of the idiot box.
A little later, I see my son by the backyard window intently staring at something with rapt attention. I decided it was a bird hovering around and amusing the child and ignored his constant gibberish for some George Lopez. I thought I heard a bark, but it soon evaded my memory as one of Benny’s annoying quips caught my attention. A few minutes passed by, and I see my hyper active son still engaged with the backyard amusement. Happy that I have my moment’s peace, I continued my TV watching.
Suddenly, he came running with pointy fingers saying ‘bow bow’. I was amused by the little one’s imagination and without further ado, rushed to prove that it was a bird, only to see that my baby had indeed seen a recognized a dog! Waves of motherly love and pride flooded my heart and my thoughts went immediately to my Mom who persistently kept teaching him the bark of a dog, but I didn’t realize that he had indeed made a connection, and found a missing dog!
Before I could make arrangements to find the owner, the little terrier had disappeared! Praying for her safety, I made some quick checks to see that all the neighbors at home had their pets with them.
That evening as I was narrating this incident to another neighbor and lo-behold, I see the little pup staring at my face! It seems, she had found the side door to be open and since she was in the care of friends while her masters were vacationing, she had made a run for the busy street. Luckily, she was identified and fetched before a racing car at 40 miles per hour got to her.
I was glad that the happy union took place and everything ended well, but it made me realize that even 1 year olds have a sharp sense of things around them and we should never ignore their innocence. They might just spot your missing gold earrings or that anniversary diamond ring!
A few days ago, after a rather tiring day, I took to the couch in the hope of getting a little respite from the everyday routine.
My one year old was busy rummaging through his older sibling precious belongings, while I blissfully adhered myself to the wonders of the idiot box.
A little later, I see my son by the backyard window intently staring at something with rapt attention. I decided it was a bird hovering around and amusing the child and ignored his constant gibberish for some George Lopez. I thought I heard a bark, but it soon evaded my memory as one of Benny’s annoying quips caught my attention. A few minutes passed by, and I see my hyper active son still engaged with the backyard amusement. Happy that I have my moment’s peace, I continued my TV watching.
Suddenly, he came running with pointy fingers saying ‘bow bow’. I was amused by the little one’s imagination and without further ado, rushed to prove that it was a bird, only to see that my baby had indeed seen a recognized a dog! Waves of motherly love and pride flooded my heart and my thoughts went immediately to my Mom who persistently kept teaching him the bark of a dog, but I didn’t realize that he had indeed made a connection, and found a missing dog!
Before I could make arrangements to find the owner, the little terrier had disappeared! Praying for her safety, I made some quick checks to see that all the neighbors at home had their pets with them.
That evening as I was narrating this incident to another neighbor and lo-behold, I see the little pup staring at my face! It seems, she had found the side door to be open and since she was in the care of friends while her masters were vacationing, she had made a run for the busy street. Luckily, she was identified and fetched before a racing car at 40 miles per hour got to her.
I was glad that the happy union took place and everything ended well, but it made me realize that even 1 year olds have a sharp sense of things around them and we should never ignore their innocence. They might just spot your missing gold earrings or that anniversary diamond ring!
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Kudos to Mom!
My 6 yr old daughter and her 60yr old grandma hatched a plan in my absence to con me into sending my princess for a vacation to me brother’s home.
They took the three step process, asking, reasoning and unfailing emotional blackmailing!
The well planned duo set a trap to convince me that a three week vacation will fly in a jiffy and before long, the madness around the house will return.
After initial hesitation over the duration, I relented and let her go with grandma with full confidence that my princess will miss home terribly and would want to fly back into my arms. Since I had enough on my plate with a full time job, a toddler on wheels and an over worked husband, I decided she might as well enjoy her break and I will get to relax worry free, knowing that my daughter is better cared for by grandma, uncle and aunt than some camp with 50 kids.
It has been a little over a week, which seems like a decade to me, and she has not uttered once about returning or missing home. She is merrily enjoying all the attention and pampering and is oblivious to her mother’s yearning for her to come back.
I felt belittled when she admonished the thought of an early return with a stern no. It has me thinking...when I was growing up, I too looked forward to summer vacations as a way to travel away from home to be with cousins playing mindless games! Perhaps, my mom felt the same way, but I am learning my life’s lessons now!
This is what makes Mom’s great. Ever giving and ever loving!
Kudos to all the Mom’s in the world! You deserve a well standing applause!
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