Let's go back to Seattle

 

 

I grew up learning “Home is where your parents are.” So to me, irrespective of how many years we’ve been in the US or how long we plan to be in Singapore, yeah we moved to Singapore, home is always where mom is  - in India. That’s true for Ady too.

For my kids however, everything but the US is transient.

DD knows for a fact that she’s here in Singapore only until high school. She’ll move back at the first available opportunity.

I know I’ve lost this girl to America, it is her home, her childhood.

I assumed much to my foolishness that DS wouldn’t be that way. He’d be a mamma’s boy, and I would be his whole world.

He especially hates it, when we go to crowded places. We’d virtually be tormenting him to his soul if we took him to visit Little India.

“Book a flight now, I want to go to Seattle now. We can’t stay here. This is not a nice place at all. There are too many bugs biting me.”

That part is true. Bugs somehow do seem to bite his skinny legs. Bugs that would never bother you.

“We’ll go after a few years, sweetheart.”

“Noooo…I’ll go with Dika.”

“What? No, I won’t be able to take care of you. And I’ll have my own classes, and school. What about your school? Where will we stay? I may not go back to Seattle.” DD thought through her entire future.

“Fine, you don’t have to come for shopping.” I’d offer to assuage DS.

“And to eat. I don’t want to come to any restaurant.”

“Why not? You like idli and dosa?”

“Yes, but I don’t like everybody else.”

“What?” I asked confused.

“All the Indian grown ups keep telling me to finish my food in the restaurants. They tell me to eat my vegetables.”

He was referring to a time when a waiter was trying to help us by ‘encouraging’ him to wipe his plate clean.

DS hates disappointing people. So he hates it even more when he can avoid disappointing someone who he doesn’t even know.

“You don’t have to listen to them, babe.”

“Then it’ll hurt their feelings.”

“But listening to them, is hurting yours.”

“No, let’s book a flight and go back to Seattle. That way no one will tell me what and how much I should eat.”

“We can’t go now, babe.”

“Ok, can we go at lunch time, when I am hungry?”

 

Image Credit: https://www.needpix.com/photo/1456438/homesweethome-home-text-wood-texture-background-wooden-white-free

Twins!

“Sisters and Brothers are supposed to love each other. That’s a beautiful bond that will last the rest of your life. You guys need to stop fighting and focus on building memories…”I began my lecture copying the speech my mom had given me and my sis.

“But he’s breathing so loud, and right next to my ear” DD explained pushing her brother away.

“She is singing loudly.” DS tried to make his point.

“So?...” DD was about to begin another round.

“So, nothing!” I quipped. “DD, don’t you remember how badly you wanted a sibling? You cried almost everyday…”

“I didn’t cry!” DD said.

“Fine, but you were very upset, and you wanted a younger sibling.”

She smiled. “That was a great day, when you planned a scavenger hunt for me to tell me I was going to be an older sister.”

“Yeah, and you were so happy!”

“Yeah, but I was expecting a sister.” And almost immediately she realized she may have hurt her brother. “I wanted a sis then”, she said looking at DS, “because I did not know how awesome you’d be. Now, I am really happy to have a brother.”

#Parentwin I thought.

“But I don’t have a brother!” DS started. “Why do I not have a brother, and only Dika gets to have a brother?”

“You get to have a sister.” I said. “Dika doesn’t have her own sister.”

“I want to be an older brother. Why does only she get to be older? I want to be an older brother to a younger brother.”

“In that case, I’d like to get a sister as well” DD chimed.

“Mamma, can you give us a brother and a sister?”

How quickly that came back to bite me!

“And manage another set of crazy fights? No thank you” I said definitively.

“I’ll take care of my brother.” DS said. “I’ll be a better big brother.”

“I’ll take care of the sister.” DD chimed.

“First take care of each other and stop fighting!”

“I don’t fight, he does….”

“I don’t fight, she sings…”

And we were back at it again. But I was thankful. For a minute there, I almost had double the problem!

Image courtesy - Etsy - expecting twins, these outfits sure are cute!  Not sponsored in anyway, btw.

How long will I survive?

DS loves anything with wheels. Anything. 

So when we went shopping the other day, he insisted he'll pull the shopping bag. 

"Sure" I said, finding this obsession finally useful. "Just let me know if it becomes heavy and you find it difficult to pull."

We completed our shopping, and Ady and I were walking ahead of DS. As we were walking the sidewalk, I saw some grates on the road. 

"Son, be careful when you cross here," I told him. "Just use the ramp. Avoid the grates."

He was so happy he was pulling the bag all by himself, that he didn't hear me. I ran towards him, as he was maneuvering over the grates.  I caught his hand just as his leg slipped into the grates. I pulled him up carefully, but the shock of having his leg stuck between the grills really scared him. 

He started crying out loud. I held him close and consoled him. There were no visible traces of an injury. Just a slight scrape.  I called Ady, who was a few feet ahead of us. He ran to us hearing his son cry. 

As we inspected his leg together, the scrape started to become more visible with slight traces of blood. 

This scared the little one more. 

"Hold" I said. "You're fine. It's just a scrape on the skin."

"But there's blood" he wailed. 

"Let's go to the doctor, just in case" Ady said. "It was an iron grate, and God knows what else was in that ditch"

"We don't know what was on that ditch?" DS started screaming his lungs out. 

"You'll be fine. There isn't anything." I said. "But we'll go to the doctor, to be doubly sure."

"Ok, call the ambulance!" He said, slowly calming down. 

"Ambulance?" Ady and I asked in bewilderment. 

"Why ambulance? Can you walk?"

"Yes, but ambulance will take me to the hospital sooner"

"Oh my God, he has the mancold!" I signaled to Ady.  He smiled. 

"An ambulance won't come for this" Ady said. 

"Why? This is an emergency. There is blood."

"But it isn't gushing. It's just on the skin. An ambulance would come if there is a lot of blood, or the bone is broken, or...."

"Is my bone broken?" DS started crying again. 

"No. Babe, if we call the cab, it will come sooner than the ambulance, because it's just around the corner" I offered. 

"But it can't take us sooner, like the ambulance can." DS argued. 

"The hospital is just around the corner, sweetie" I said. 

That seemed to have calmed him. 

"How long will I survive?" He suddenly asked. 

"What?" 

"How long will I survive with this hurt in my leg?"

"Sweetheart, you'll live to a 100"

"But how long will I survive with this?"

"You mean a scar?"

"No, what will this hurt do to me? Will I become ok?"

Oh my God, this boy has a severe case of the manflu! I wondered. 

"Yes. You'll be perfectly fine. You won't even have a scar. We're going to the doctor, just to make sure we're not missing anything."

"What are you missing?"

"That's what we're going to find out sweetie."

Once we reached the hospital, the doctor looked at the scrape, at us, and back to the scrape. 

"He fell through a sewage grate. He wasn't sure he'd survive" I offered, realizing how foolish we must be looking. 

He smiled, cleaned the wound, and put some ointment on it. 

"It's just a superficial scrape. He must've already had his Tetanus shot. I've cleaned it. So he should be fine. Just clean it again tomorrow."

"Doctor, can you repeat the part where you said he is fine?"

He looked at me again, this time as if I was daft. 

"Yeah, he is fine."

"Did you hear that, sweetie?" I asked. 

He finally smiled. "I can walk?" 

"You've been walking...well, yeah" I said giving up. 

"I am worried" I whispered to Ady. 

"Why? It's just..." he started reassuring. 

"No, not about this. About the person who will marry this boy. I hope that person's a Doctor!"

 

Image credit: https://www.rawpixel.com/image/7580094/image-cartoon-illustrations-public-domain

Happy Deebavali, Pa

 

Diwali brings in so many memories. The last few Diwalis have been bitter-sweet.

Kids looking forward to the new clothes, the sparklers, meeting friends and family, and I remembering my childhood, my Appa.

Every Deebavali (that’s what Tamilians call it), Appa would wake us up at 4:00 AM to burst some crackers to commemorate the death of the evil Narakasura.

Appa would insist that we take an oil bath – apply oil on our head and body, and shower with a few drops of the Holy Ganga mixed with our bucket of water.

“Ganga snanam aayacha?" was the standard way Appa and Amma would greet friends and family to wish Happy Deebavali. “Did you take your bath with the Holy water.”

We used to hate waking up so early, but bursting the crackers, Amma rubbing oil on our heads and us taking our baths and accepting our new clothes whilst sitting on our old clothes in gratitude, are all traditions etched in my memory.

My kids also have developed their own memories. They know to expect Indian sweets, chaat, new clothes and crackers. But I don’t wake them up at 4:00 AM or rush them to take an oil bath. There’s a chance I don’t do this because I don’t like waking up so early, but also because my kids are more vocal in expressing their dissatisfaction with the situation than my sis and I ever were.

Nevertheless, the smell of freshly made delicacies, the laughter of the kids, M.S. Subbulaxmi in the background, reminds me so much of Appa doing puja in the morning, Amma by his side. I miss doing namaskaram to him before accepting our new clothes. I miss getting the prasadam from him, before he offered an entire plate of Deebavali foods, I miss giving both my sis and I a warm hug and wishing us the best in everything we did. 

Appa, I wish you were with us; I wish you would spread the cheer of festivities like you always did. I wish you held my children and gave them a warm, loving embrace like you always did to us. I wish I could have so many more Deebavalis with you. I hope you had your Ganga Snanam ‘pa.

 

 

 Image credit: https://www.flickr.com/photos/kdinuraj/4012378376

The Villain of the Story

DS fights with DD – a lot. 

She takes up his airtime, when she talks to us, obviously – she likes talking – a lot, and that eats up into his time.

He won’t talk a lot when she is not around, but when she’s there, that’s it, that’s the only time he wants to talk, and Dika is “just mean”, that she “does not let (him) talk at all!”

DD has a minor case of Misophonia, so he’ll go chew closer to her ears. He’ll make loud gulping noises and eat crunchy foods, so she’ll react.

To her credit, DD does not initiate a fight, but she also doesn’t let him be. “You need to teach him that he can’t get his way”, she’ll teach me.

“I need some peace and calm” I’ll react. “Just let him be.”

“Tough luck. You taught me to stand up for myself. Now deal with it!”

If I am greying, I’d say the biggest reason is their bickering.

This is how a typical fight gets resolved -

“DS, let’s just go, you, me and Papa, to some place for a vacation.” I’ll offer. “Let’s leave Dika at home.”

“Yes!”, he’ll exclaim between sobs over some random fight – maybe she stared at him, or maybe she just existed.

“Why would you do that?” DD will quip back. “But wait, are you planning to go to the beach? If yes, then yeah, go ahead, I don’t want to come. But any other place, I want in.”

“Ok, let’s go to the beach DS, you love going to the beach.”

“Let’s not leave Dika behind,” he’ll whimper. “She’ll feel left out.”

“But that’s what you want?”

“No. I don’t want her to feel bad. I just want you to scold her. We can’t leave her behind. I don’t want her to be alone. I love her.”

“I love you too, DS”, DD’ll hug him. “I love you the most.”

“Yes, both of you love each other. Mamma made a bad suggestion.” Ady will swoop in when all’s well.

“Yeah, Mamma, you made a bad suggestion” DS and DD will agree.

This is how almost all fights end... they’ll bring me in their fights,  somehow resolve it, and make me the bad guy.

Hey, if that leads to them becoming a team, bring it on. I have no qualms about being the villain to their happy sibling story.

 

Image credit: https://www.deviantart.com/daviddv1202/art/Revenge-of-the-Disney-Villains-872211233

A little bit of me, a little bit of you

When we realized that I was pregnant with DS, we decided to announce it through a scavenger hunt to DD. She loves solving puzzles, and she was the one who lobbied non-stop for a younger sibling, so she deserved to know the news as soon as we did.

I crafted 10 different puzzles, and she scavenged through the entire house to solve it.

The last clue said “You will no longer be just you, you’ll now have a different role, a different relationship, and a different responsibility. You will be the older one, not the only one.”

“Only child?” she instantly remarked. “I won’t be the only child anymore?”

We smiled.

“Are you pregnant?” she came running to touch my belly.

“Yes, sweetheart” I said.

“Yay, I am going to become a big sister! When will my little sister come?”

“We don’t know if it’ll be a little sister or a little brother” Ady said. “But whichever one, you’ll still be the older sister.”

“Yeah” she agreed. “But little sister means, we’ll have a lot of pink.”

“I am so happy, mamma”, she continued hugging me. “I will no longer be the only kid in school without a sibling. I will have my own sibling.”

“Yes”, I said. “You most definitely will not be the only kid anymore. You’ll be Akka” I said.

“Or Didi”, Ady quickly added.

“So the baby won’t call me by my name?” she asked.

“Well, the baby will be the only one who can call you ‘big sister’, and mean it because they’ll be related to you by blood. My sister calls me ‘Akka’, and papa calls his sister ‘Didi’”, I said.

“Hmm…I don’t mind the baby calling me by my name”, she pondered. “But having a special name sure sounds good.”

“How about…” she continued… “how about the baby call me Dika, or Akdi?”

“It’s a combination of Didi and Akka?” I asked.

“Yeah. So it’ll be a little bit of Tamil and a little bit of Hindi, because I am part Tamil and part Hindi.”

Ady and I smiled. We liked the idea. “I think Dika sounds good” we agreed.

And thus was born a newly coined relationship. It is very unique to what DS calls DD, and we like it that way  – A little bit of me, and a little bit of him.  

 

 

 Photo credit - Romel - https://www.flickr.com/photos/wolfsoul/2072332105

Doink!

 

DS loves traveling. He specifically likes traveling to resorts and vacation rentals where there are a ton of games, just like his dad.

I remember the time and effort Ady took when DS was about 3, to find a spot which has a lot of space to run around, and golf. While he wasn’t successful enough to find real golf, at the location we were going to, he settled for disc golf.

So as one would expect, we dropped our bags, explored the place, and set off to play a round of disc golf.

We made teams. Dad and daughter, mom and son.

For the initial 10 minutes, DS was observing how the game was being played. He saw his dad and sis throw the disc through the chain rack and wasn’t really comfortable with the sounds.

Soon, he understood the game, and said he was ready to play.

“OK, take positions” Ady ordered.

I stood right beside DS, so I could swoop down or capture the discs going above his head.  DD stood across from her dad to strategically throw the disc into the rack.

DS looked at me and paused. He yelled out to his dad, “Wait, wait. Don’t throw”

And then he took me by my hand and pulled me behind a tree.

“What are you doing?” I asked. “Why are you making me stand behind the tree?”

Noticing the move, Ady and DD also moved closer to us.

“The disc is very fast, mamma” DS explained. “It will be very hard when it hits. I don’t want you to get hurt. You’ll be safe behind the tree.”

My eyes welled up. Oh, what a lovely little boy.

DH was silent. I looked at him and smiled. He smiled back, then looked at DS – “What about me?” he demanded.

DD and I started laughing. Wonder who’s the dad and who’s the son!

 

Photo credit: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/55/Disc_golf_-_Laajavuori.jpg

 

Long Live Tamil!

When it came to identity, DS somehow was very clear, that he had Indian heritage. He wanted to learn everything about India, - the language, the dances, songs.  The only exception to this was food - it was ok to avoid food that wasn't bland and idli shaped.

He wanted to learn Hindi. What more could a  parent ask for - a willing child who wants to learn more about his culture and his native language. So all that we had to do, was speak to him in Hindi. But of course we didn't. We were so used to speaking in English, that Hindi really, was an effort. Yes, please get judgmental.

But we had ourselves a persistent kid. He saw me learn Spanish on Duolingo, so he insisted I set him up for Hindi. He religiously did his Hindi lessons everyday, so much so that he was able to understand what we were speaking, and he responded in comprehensible words. 

We were really impressed that the kid, inspite of his lax parents was able to learn a foreign language. A little part of me was having the FOMO reaction because the kid wasn't learning Tamil. But I clearly couldn't ask for more. 

Fast forward to a few months, and PS-II had released. There is one song in particular, which literally praises Tamil culture and the Chola empire. I kept listening to it over and over. The pride for the language and the Cholan accomplishments was something my dad displayed a lot. He was a proud Tamilian. He, loved the language, the culture, and it's rich history. The song reminded me of him, and how he'd be beaming with pride. I kept listening, so I could hear him sing along. 

I must have heard  the song on repeat so many times, that as I was putting DS to bed one night, he asked me - "Mamma, why do you keep listening to the Veera Veera song?"

"Well, babe, it reminds me of Thatha a lot. The song is about the Tamil language, and I don't have anyone to talk to in Tamil, so I keep listening to it. It makes me very emotional. It makes me feel closer to Thatha and closer to Tamil."

There was a long pause, and then he said. "I feel sad that you can't talk to us in Tamil Mamma", I could hear him sniffle. "Does Duolingo have Tamil?  I want to learn it because it will make you happy."

I think my allergy has relapsed, my eyes are getting moist again. 

Image credit: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Nixs_News_Tamil_Logo.png

 

Mixed Feelings

Losing a tooth is a big deal in my books. 

You're getting closer to adulthood, with your body parts being updated to adult parts, with a longer warranty. 

I've had a tough time dealing with DD's tooth loss, and I'm having a harder time dealing with DS's. 

While DD lost most her teeth in succession, DS is taking his time, which I love. 

"Mamma, Arit lost a tooth today", he told me excitedly once, when he came back from school. 

"Oh no!" I reacted, and yes, I reacted badly. 

"Why Mamma?"

"I..."

"Why oh no, Mamma?"

"Not oh no, I guess it's good, but it means, he's growing up. I don't know how I feel about you losing your tooth."

"But I am 6, I am a big boy."

"I know. But you're also my baby. Well, maybe I have mixed feelings."

"What are mixed feelings mamma?"

"I want you to grow up, but I want you to stay my baby."

"That is just silly mamma!" he chuckled. 

"I know, sweetie. I don't know how to feel."

And the fateful day arrived a week later. 

When I went to school to pick him up, his teacher met me at the door. "I think your son has something to tell you, and he knows how you will react." 

"What?"

She nodded at DS. 

"Mamma, I know you have mixed feelings, but I have mixed feelings about telling you too. 

I am excited that I lost my tooth, but I am a little sad that you have mixed feelings."

Oh my heart!

"I think I am more excited that you lost your tooth, babe", I lied and hugged him, never wanting to let go of my baby. 

Pic source: https://qcontent.co.uk/insights/marketers-mixed-emotions-facebook-emoji/

Gullible vs Street-smart

When DD lost her tooth, she left her tooth under her pillow for the Tooth Fairy to come and get it. 

I wrote such a lovely letter to her saying that the Tooth Fairy was proud of the choices she was making, and to take good care of her new tooth. 

DD would admit a few years later that she knew it was me. But she kept quiet because she wanted the moolah, that comes with a fallen tooth. "Tooth Fairy's cursive was eerily similar to your handwriting," she admitted. 

After she lost like 4 teeth, I told her that the Tooth Fairy only rewards for the top 4, but she insisted that each tooth was special and she needed to save it for the fairy. So that cost me quite a bit. 

With my little, it was much simpler. 

The first tooth, the Tooth Fairy wrote to him in a non-cursive hand-writing and gave him a dollar. He was way too excited and all the parents in the school were very happy with the Tooth Fairy too. 

The second tooth, I told him that we had a family tradition, that we dig the dirt, bury his tooth, and plant a sapling in its place, so you'll know with its growth, how long its been since you lost your tooth. To my surprise, he readily agreed.  He dug a hole and added his own tooth, and chose to fill it with an apple seed. 

I compared the way the two kids reacted to not getting money to DD and Ady, without a beat, she replied, "Mamma, there's gullible and there's street smart."

"He's got a sense of wonder and excitement about everything. I don't think he is gullible." I defended him. 

"You're right", she said. "He's very innocent. He's going to listen to everything you say in excitement and wonder."

"You think so?" I asked. 

"You know what, you are right!", she smiled, and looked at her dad. "*He* is not gullible." And the two of them burst out laughing. 

Pic source: https://linguosco.com/word-of-the-week-gullible/

He knows!

The last post was kind of a teaser to my current life. 

The warm embrace of the sister and brother, well, clearly that's what I'd like my social media to think my kids are like, but in reality, let's say 90% of the time, I play the referee, and the 10% that the loving hug happens, it melts my heart so much, that I begin to believe, time and again, that these two are just the perfect pair of siblings. 

So lets start where we left off, well, at least from whereever I can recollect. 

Clearly, I make amazing babies. If DD ran the house, DS is that sensitive soul, who can play you like a fiddle. 

From the time he could express his emotions, he's been absolutely free with them. He can burst into tears over anything. I think he takes it as a challenge to prove his tear ducts are solid. 

If you get mad at him for something he said or did, he'll hug you so tight with those big round tears falling down his cheeks that you instantly feel remorse for being upset with such a wonderful little kid. 

If you've built a thicker skin and know his tricks, he'll hug you hard and say "Tell me you're not mad at me. Tell me you're wrong for getting upset. It's bad to get upset. It's not OK," between his sobs and instant waterfall. 

"Why do you cry so much?" I ask him.

"So you won't be mad." Well, fairpoint. 

"How is it that when he cries, you immediately calm down, but when I cried, you didn't?" That's DD. 

"Well, he gets tears. Your crying was more of a whining."

"What's whining?" DS asked. 

"Well, it's all that you do, minus the tears," DD said. "And at a higher pitch" I added. 

He smiled. 

"Why are you smiling?" DD asked. 

"I know how to make Mamma stop getting mad, you still don't."

"Mom, did you hear that?" DD turned around to look at me. 

"DS! Why would..."

The dams were open again! That boy has the remote to my reactions. 

It's really unfair

 

Ok, It's been an exceptionally long hiatus. I have very many reasons for not having written, nah journal-ed DD's antics, but they are all, as I have come to realize, excuses. 

DD discovered my blog recently, and asked me a lot of questions about her childhood, and how she loves that she has a memory capsule to look back and learn more about herself and her upbringing. 

She was talking about a couple posts when DS walked in. Yes, DS is now in the picture, and no, not a toddler, but an elementary school going kid. "Mamma, there's nothing about lil bro, here", DD said.

"Well I did stop writing, way before DS was born."

"What's not there about me?" DS asked.

 "Well, Mamma had written a lot of stuff about when I was growing up, and now, when I read through, I know how it was liking growing up through her eyes. But there isn't anything about you."

Thank you, Darling. 

"Why is there nothing about me, Mamma? Why didn't you write anything about me?"

A 100 excuses ran through my head, but looking at those big wide eyes, I didn't have the heart to make one up. 

"I'm sorry, babe."

"Why? All of a sudden?", I looked at DD. "How did you even discover this blog?"

 "He's my brother, and not to forget, another of your offspring!"

 Tears flowed down. "It's not fair. You can't only write about Dika... why won't you write about me?"

"Well, sweetheart, I will."

Image credit: https://clipart-library.com/clipart/big-sister-cliparts-23.htm