Just One Goal

Anyone who knows me, knows what a sportsperson I am, in that I absolutely am not. 

I don't know what took over me when I signed up for a charity football event. Not that the charity event was close to my heart, I didn't even know what it was till I actually started playing the match. I signed up only for the sake of it. To maybe meet new people, and get some exercise in the process. 

I was generously welcomed into the team, apparently having a female player in the team automatically gave us a goal point. 

I learnt the difference between kicking from the inside of my feet, and the tip of my toes, I learnt I needed to stop the ball before kicking, yeah, what's possibly considered basic. 

I was calling the sport soccer, and my team mates clarified it is football. "You're in Singapore, now" they let me know.

Well, you can call it whatever, I don't know either. 

Many teammates invested time and effort to help me get in the rhythm of the game. "Stretch, Paddy, Pass Paddy, Shoot Paddy."

I told about the event at home, and my son was the most excited. "Mamma, I will teach you." he said very excitedly, and teach he did. 

We repurposed his basketball as a football (we're in Singapore), and taught me how to focus and pass the ball. 

My husband found my participation extremely funny. The fact that the team gets a point because of a woman, was very amusing to him. Frankly, it was amusing to me as well. But am not the one to complain if it benefits the team. 

Our team coach, had just one wish, "One Goal. Just One Goal", much like Tavita, in "Next Goal Wins". 

From a team that for the past two years, never scored a single goal, we moved to being a team that won two, drew two and lost two. That was a big victory. 

Tavita would be so proud. 

"Ok, stop it Ady." 

I gotta go stop this person from quite literally, rolling on the floor, laughing. 

But here's proof, that I actually did play a sport!

A non-dancing Engineer

There’s a talent show is DS’s school. The teacher asked the kids if anybody wanted to participate.

But of course, mostly girls raised their hands.

“What about the boys?” the teacher asked.

My son meekly lifted his hand up. And then there were some more little boy hands hesitantly going up.

And before he knew it, he was signed up for a dance performance.

I got an email saying that my son along with a few kids had signed up to dance for the Talent Show. While surprised, I was excited to see what my son had planned to practice.

After his usual excited entry home, and his scrumptious hug, I asked him – “So babe, it’s exciting that you’re going to participate in the talent show.”

His face turned somber.

“Mamma, I only lifted my hand, so it would encourage the other boys to lift their hands too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mamma, only girls had raised their hands and the teacher asked what about the boys. So to encourage everyone, I raised my hand. And as I raised my hand, the other boys raised their hands too. I forgot to put my hand down when their hands went up, so I had to sign up.

“I asked if I could do some engineering or show my inventions, and the teacher said I could do dance or sing, and so I am signed up to dance.”

“But that’s still good?” I asked, not knowing what he really wanted to do.

“No, Mamma. Not good at all. The other boys want me to dance and sing, and I hate doing both.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Well, I thought I could do engineering, but I can’t show that in the talent show, so I don’t want to do anything.”

His friends’ parents had called him for a dance practice by then, and I told him to try it out and if he didn’t still like it, I’d let his teacher know.

Sure enough, he had a lot of fun playing, but hated the part where he had to practice dancing.

And as promised, I let the parents and the teacher know as well that he did not want to participate in the Talent Show.

And immediately he started building his gadgets with lego, and he was his usual happy self.

“I am an engineer”, he said smiling as he built, “not a dancer.”

“You know you can be both” I immediately replied on reflex.

“Yeah, I do. I don’t want to dance though. I just want to build.”

Well, if that’s what he wanted to do… ‘poor guy the amount of stress dancing for the show created on him’ I thought looking at him.

“Mamma” he came to me rather quickly. “I am missing a few pieces of lego. Can you buy me a new set?”

So much for all the stress.

Building in the Bath tub

DS has been very clear since the time he knew what an engineer does, that he wanted to be an Engineer.

Not gonna lie, I kinda felt very happy, and I don't really know why. Could be the Indian-ness in me, could be that it's something I am familiar with compared to what the other kid wants to become - a professional actor. 

I do know, that my dad would've been very proud, very happy. 

Now time will tell what this kid will do, but so far, seeing him tinkering with everything in the house, making gliders, designing fans, he may be on-track. 

Everyday with this kid is a new innovation day. 

Yesterday, he was off to build something new as usual. When it took an unusually long time for him to get out of the bath tub, I decided to interrupt the bubbles. 

"What's up, dude?" I asked him. "What are you still doing in the bath tub?"

"I am building" he said. 

"Building what?" 

"Mamma, can I take your body lotion bottle?"

"For what?"

"I want to use it for my building."

"How?"

"I just need to take the straw from inside it. I won't throw the lotion." He clarified he wouldn't do what he had done with my bottle the last time. 

"No" I said, also remembering the last time, he emptied my entire bottle. 

"Ok, fine, let me figure something else out, can you give me 5 more minutes?" he asked me kindly.  Who could've said no to that face. 

Five minutes later, I came to see this construction in the bath tub. 

"What is this babe?" 

"Mamma, it is the best building in Singapore."

The resemblance is of course uncanny. Once you see it, you just can't un-see it. 

Image source: Wikimedia

It's so embarrassing...

 

This came too soon. With DD, it took a bit, or atleast that’s what I’d like to believe.

This past week, we went to Indonesia on vacation. It was a much anticipated, high-expectations vacation.
The kids had gone 2 months with no holidays apart from the weekends, so they were really looking forward to chilling by the beach, and making the parents participate in all the adventure activities.

DS for one was counting down the days. With a 2 week vacation, the first week was spent with friends – a trip to Universal Studios and a water theme park. This ofcourse was not sufficient. It only took away 2 of the 5 ‘working’ days.

All his friends were traveling, so clearly DS knew his parents were not really interested in his enjoyment, not withstanding that we had to wait for his sister to return from her outdoor expedition through school.

“Fine, son” I said.  I do call him son… it doesn’t really roll of the tongue, but I call him son, so he knows that “beta” means son in Hindi. So he either hears “Fine, son” or “Theek hai, beta.” There isn’t really an equivalent in Tamil that sounds good. “Seri, Kanna” is what I go with. Kanna is sweetheart, or darling. Thankfully he knows all these phrases.

“Fine, son. We’ll make a trip after Dika comes back.” That seemed to calm him.

“I don’t want to go to any trip after coming back. I need to rest.” DD declared. So that led to some back and forth, and we agreed not to book anything for DD, but that we’ll wait for her to come back.

“If Dika doesn’t come, will we not go?” DS started as soon as Dika was out of the house.

“Do you want to go without Dika?” I asked.

“No, but I want to go on a vacation. Why won’t she come?”

“Maybe she will. Or maybe you can convince her.”

“She doesn’t listen to me…” and that went on for a bit.

But contrary to popular belief, DD did want to go on the vacation, and that made the little kid really, really happy.

So off we went.

We took the ferry to Bintan and on the way, I felt all very motherly, and really wanted to hug my baby.

My son seemed all very excited too, jumping between his seat and ours.

I pulled him closer and hugged him on my lap.

“Mamma, please stop. It is embarrassing” He said, and broke my heart into a thousand pieces.

“What?” I asked in disbelief.

“Mamma, I am not a baby. I am a big boy. You can’t make me sit on your lap. It’s embarrassing.”

“What?”

“Maaaa…” he freed himself.

Ady who was witnessing all this added, “Looks like the umbilical chord is finally cut.”

I was pretty devastated. I knew DS was right, he was a big boy now, but I just needed some more time with my baby.

“Embarrassing?” I kept looking at Ady in disbelief, as DS went back to his seat with Dika. “He’s seven.”

“It’s ok” Ady tried to cheer me up. “He’s growing up.”

I was about to react, when DS hurt his elbow jumping from his seat to ours.

“Ow!” he whimpered, looking at me. I didn’t react.

He came back to me, sat on my lap, “Mamma, I hurt myself.”

It was his way of making sure I was ok, ‘cause with everything else that came after it …the rock climbing, the archery, wakeboarding, and with all the falls, he was a ‘brave boy who can take care of himself’.

My little. My heart.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Birthday, Babe!

 

 

It was DD’s B-day yesterday. She’s growing too fast for my comfort. I didn’t plan anything for her birthday; she managed everything herself.

“DD, your brother has a birthday invite for his friend’s birthday on the 24^th.” I had mentioned it to her a month ago, to see how she’d respond. If I’m being honest, I wanted her to whine and complain that I would even ask such a question. The answer was that DS wouldn’t go. It was his big sister’s birthday after all!

“Sure,” she said. “I am guessing it’s in the morning or afternoon?”

“Yeah, afternoon.”

“Sure, he should go.”

“What about your birthday?”

“I haven’t planned anything for my birthday yet, and even so, I think I may plan something without a seven-year-old.”

“You’ll have your birthday without us? I have to take him to the party.”

“What about Papa?”

“I don’t know, he may be here, he’s still on the mend, from his ligament tear.”

“Hmm, that should work.”

“What?” I exclaimed.

“Mamma, if I plan anything it’ll likely be a movie and dinner. It’s going to be a musical. I know how you guys hate musicals. I may need Papa to take us to the movie theater because I am thinking of watching ‘Mean Girls,’ and here in Singapore it's 16+. I am not sure how strict they’re going to be. If they are, then Papa might need to be there.”

She was so clear in her thought process. But where’s the emotion? I was wondering to myself.

“We can definitely have dinner together. It doesn’t need to be on 24^th; it can also be on 23^rd, Saturday, so all of us can have a long night.”

She has thought of everything, yet she says she hasn’t thought of it,  I continued thinking.

Come 23^rd… “So, shall we go to an Escape Room?” she asked.

“Yay!” DS screamed.

“Yes!” Ady agreed.

“Sure” I agreed too.

“Let’s go to the Escape Room and to that Thai restaurant that we went to a couple weeks ago. I liked the Pad Thai there.”

“I don’t like Thai,” DS interrupted.

“Too bad, you had your birthday and got what you wanted. Now it’s mine, and I get what I want. Besides, Mamma feeds you at home before we go out, so you should be fine.”

DS began to whine, and I was so grateful to take care of him and convince him that today was “Dika’s Day.”

DD had organized a Mean Girls Birthday Theme in Pink and she decided to host a party at home. It was too much of a risk to go all the way to the theater only to be told they don’t meet the age criteria.

“Mamma, can you buy donuts for us? I’ll get the pizzas from across the street.”

“Happy to help.” And I meant it.

And that was her simple birthday. Her friends arrived, all stylish in pink. The girls had a movie night, donuts, pizzas, and non-stop singing.

I wasn’t stressed in the least, but I missed planning for my baby. “You’re missing being in control,” Ady said, as if on cue.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s the planning or her owning everything that’s making me sad.”

“Not sad. Proud,” he corrected me. “Yeah, proud, but I feel her slipping away.”

“And that’s OK. As long as we’ve prepared her for it.”

“Hmmm…” I sighed.

I missed the princess, fairy birthday parties. I missed the joyful scream on seeing the Frozen cake. I missed her incessant demand for new dresses and tights. I missed the shopping for return gifts…which reminded me…

“DD, make sure….” I tried adding.

“Mamma, relax. I got this.” And she did.  

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart!

Image credit: ABP Cake shop

Of Assets and Libraries

-- Eavesdropped Conversation --

"I am actually an asset, papa" I heard DS tell Ady. 

"No son, you're a liability. We only spend on you, we don't get anything in return."

"But I came from mamma for free. You didn't buy me."

"Well, the doctor did charge to deliver you"

"Dika is a library, but I bring you so much joy."

"Yes you do, and so does Dika. Liability." 

"But I am more of an asset than she is. She just stays in her room."

"Both of you are... Libailities. We pay for everything you do, and you end up wasting everything we feed you."

"You should only give me what I like then" DS reasoned. 

"Yeah, I don't think only cereal is a healthy choice."

"You can't give us stuff we don't like, and then say we waste it."

"Well, that's what you get."

"Then you're making us waste, papa. You're forcing us to not be assets."

"No, we give you healthy food, so you can be healthy. You choose...junk."

The boys emerged from the room, and DS came running to me. 

"Mamma, don't I give you hugs, so many hugs and kisses?" DS was looking for an ally.

"Yes you do, my baby" I said. "You give the best hugs and kisses."

"So I am an asset" DS said. 

"Yes, you are" I agreed. 

"Your hugs and kisses are free. Like my hugs and kisses to you." Ady continued.

"What's happening?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"Papa's telling me about assets and librarires, and he's calling me a library."

"Liability" I corrected. 

"Yes, Liability."

"Oh you're an asset, my child" I hugged him. "You give me so much happiness."

"See, Papa?" DS teased his dad. 

"Well, you make him eat his veggies now. You're such a liability" Ady dismissed me. 

"Library!" DS corrected him. 

Image Credit: https://easy-peasy.ai/ai-image-generator/images/cute-electronic-accounting-calculator-icon-3d-pop-illustration

The mania that is Swift!

DD has been a Swiftie since she knew music. She would belch out all her songs, and we’d keep wondering where she’s heard these, as our home is almost exclusive to Indian music. 

Hearing her sing with such passion, we got her her own Alexa, so she could listen to all her favorite songs.

We knew she was obsessed with Swift, because her room had more pictures of Taylor than of herself or us (wishful thinking of course.) She never really outgrew the ‘phase’.  

DS knows what his sister’s favorite song of the season is, but he doesn’t really like Taylor Swift. She sings ‘too slow’ to his taste. He likes funky numbers he can dance to.

So this weekend, when the Era’s Tour was here in Singapore, naturally DD had to go. The excitement was palpable. She went with her friend of course, but the amount of preparation that went in - making bracelets, posters, buying the right outfit...I don't remember the last time, I had prepared so much. Child birth, may be?

I learnt so much about the Swift Culture. ‘The Mother’ as she is called. I will be honest, when DD said, "I have two mothers, one that gave birth to me, one that brought me up", I was shattered. While she did quickly added that I was also bringing her up, when she saw my shocked face, the damage had already been done.

DD had to do some last-minute shopping, so we hit the mall. The entire trip was a revelation to me.

I saw two girls who had this huge tag saying “F*ck the Patriarchy.” Not knowing that’s their mother’s song, I gave the girls two huge thumbs up in support – you know, feminism and women sticking together?

“Swiftie!!” the girls cheered.

“What?” I asked DD. “That’s her song, ma. It is amazing. You should hear it. She doesn't only sing about her boyfriends", DD knew what I thought about her. "She sings so many things, about the love for her mother, her best friend's son, about LGBTQ rights."

I actually did have tears in my eyes at this point. What sounded like a teen fest, suddenly felt a lot deeper, more meaningful.

I saw girls helping each other with the beads for the bracelets, giving compliments to each other. I saw the passion with which they were all planning for the concert.

“She’s not just a singer, ‘ma”, DD explained to me. “Her songs are meaningful, and relatable. There’s something in each song, that will resonate with you.”

DD in general is a very happy kid, so seeing her all excited about the concert wasn’t really surprising to me, but it’s the camaraderie that the girls shared, the enthusiasm with which everyone flew down to Singapore from all over the world, in fact, a friend of ours flew down all the way from Seattle too, that was so heartwarming.

I may not be a Swiftie, but I sure appreciate what the singer is doing to bring everyone together, in a kind and empathetic way. “Swifties help each other,” DD explained to me. “It’s like an invisible bond.”

“Mamma, since I always hear Dika listening to Taylor Swift, is she my mother also?”

“NO!” I instantly reacted. “Only I am your mother.” And I held him close to me. “But she can be an aunt to you.”

Image credit: DD

When it's more fun there

 

Even before we landed in Sydney, the kids started saying we should move there. “Why?” I asked picking the carryon baggage from the overhead bin.

“Because it’s like Seattle, and they talk a lot with me.” DS said.

“And they have a similar social justice system like the US” said DD, my diversity advocate.

“OK, lets just get a cab and go meet papa.”

“Can you check where we get taxis?” I asked DS, as soon as we left the arrivals gate.

He ran behind an airport employee and I lost sight of him for a bit. DD and I were busy trying to maneuver the luggage to the pick up spot.

Soon DS came running pointing at the opposite direction.

“Mamma, I think that guy has lost some teeth.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked. “Did you see in his mouth?”

“No, but he said ‘Aiver they’, when I asked him where the taxis were. Just like air come out when i talk through my lost teeth, i think air os coming out for him too.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“I think it means ‘over there’" he said. “Because he pointed in that direction.”

“Naar” DD said.

“What?”

“That’s another word in the Australian accent.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“No” she smiled. “See, we should move here. It’s so fun.”

And that’s how our trip to Sydney began.

The next day was already too late, coz DS wanted to be at the beach everyday, every hour, and DD wanted to shop till she dropped.

So Manly beach separated the ladies from the gentlemen. DS had his first brush with body boarding and DD had her first brush with not finding anything her size.

“Why is everyone so gigantic?” she asked.

“You’re tiny” I smiled.

“Maybe I’ll get a scarf.”

“Oh yeah, that’ll be your perfect size.”

Clearly the shopping wasn’t really what she anticipated, so we settled for a mani-pedi, and lets just say, her pink nails are not really hers.

With all the body boarding, came the sun-burn. Not for the kid, the dad. So finally somebody agreed that Mom was right in advising to wear sunblock.

But with all things said, Sydney was an amazing place to visit. The Blue Mountains were breath taking, the Sydney Opera house checked off my bucket list, and the beach mania is something that’s not leaving this household anytime soon.

“Mamma, why do we have to be home?” DS complains everyday. “The fun isn’t here, it’s Aiver they.”

Too Many Girls!!

DD had a Saturday practice at school. DS had a long day too, with a lot of playtime at home, Amma is here, so he'd been playing with her and Lina Aunty. 

"Ma, can we have dinner outside?" DD messaged me. 

That seemed like a good idea. Amma, DS and I decided to meet DD half way in her favorite restaurant. 

It was a good meal, good ambiance, good company. 

There were a bunch of men behind us, laughing and joking boisterously. 

Suddenly, DS declares to us, "There are too many girls. I am done. I want to be around some boys!"

"What?" All of us were shocked.

"Papa is traveling, and there are no boys. It's only girls, girls, girls"

One of the guys behind us heard and looked over. Clearly he wanted to talk to DS. 

"I don't really want to be around girls anymore. I am going." DS continued, standing up, and trying to walk away from us. 

"Hey, babe", I called after him. "There's a bunch of boys right here, you can talk to."

"Hey, yeah" said the guy who was following our conversation. "You know, I have 2 boys myself."

That seemed to calm DS down, who at this point was struggling to set himself free from his sisters' grasps, to - walk away. 

"Why aren't your sons here?" He asked. 

"They're at home." He said, showing some pics of his kids. 

"Do you play any sports?" He asked DS. 

DS couldn't understand his Kiwi accent. "He's asking if you play any sports, babe" I said. 

"Basketball."

"Ooh, I love playing basketball. My kids play too!"

"Mamma, can you take his number, and we can have a play date with his sons?"

And after a good conversation, there was no need to walk away from the girls in the house anymore, or so I thought. 

I also set a 

Ady returned last morning. DS woke up as soon as he heard his dad's voice. 

"Papa, I am glad there's a boy in the house," he ran to hug his dad. 

"What?... I..." and am still finishing that sentence. 

Image Source: https://www.needpix.com/photo/1299933/flower-girl-power-woman-power-florist-female-woman-girl-sign-female-sign

Rules of turning 7

This was possibly the first birthday for DS that he knew and was aware, that it was organized just for him, outside the home.

He wanted to have a laser tag event, and made his own list of friends he wanted to invite.

This was actually a birthday of mixed feelings for the little guy. He was turning 7.

Turning 7 in Singapore meant that you need to sleep by yourself, and you cannot sleep with your parents anymore. (That’s the rule, don’t look it up. You’ll just have to take my word for it.)

So while he was excited that there’s a day dedicated for him and all his wishes, a big part of him was also worried that he no longer gets to sleep with Mamma. (Mamma was equally unhappy by the way, it was Papa’s idea to enforce the rule, so he doesn’t get kicked in the shins every night.)

He woke up in the morning excited to turn 7, but he wanted to cuddle some more, because technically, he turned 7, and should not be sleeping with the parents.

“Today is my birthday” he declared coming down the stairs, to all of us – “so whatever I want gets done.”

He said he wanted to eat donuts for breakfast, and we readily obliged.

Everything about the day was great.

After an exhausting but wonderful birthday, DS was ready to retire.

“I am not going to send him to his room” I remarked to Ady. “It’s your idea, you deal with it.”

“Alright. I will.”

Ady was out of DS’s room in 10 minutes.

“What happened?” I asked.

“What? He’s fine. He’s following the rules.” He chuckled.

“My baby…”

“He’s a big boy”

It’s now been almost a week, and my rule-following baby boy came up to me to snuggle in the morning – “Mamma, can you write to the government that I can sleep with you?”

“Stay strong!” Ady urged me.

We shall see how this night goes.

Long Term Commitment

We were in India for the past few weeks to celebrate the 50th anniversary milestone of my in-laws. 

DD and DS got to meet a whole set of their paternal cousins, aunts and uncles, grandaunts and grand uncles. Within the first week, his grandma became DS's favorite person in the whole world.

The entire family was there. Dances by the bonfire, steaming hot paranthas, fresh from the farm salads, and wonderful cackles of excited children were all the elements that made our trip so memorable. 

On the day of the big event, it was amazing to see mom-in-law and dad-in-law all decked up, happy, nervous, shy! They were re-living the day from 50 years ago and it was just the most adorable scene ever. 

On the way to the venue, DS was riding with his grand aunt, grand parents and I. The grand aunt was teasing him, saying she wanted to marry him. "Will you marry me?" she asked. DS looked up at me. 

"Mamma" he said. "I can't marry her." 

"Why?" she asked. "Why won't you marry me?"

"You need to be married for a long time. But if I marry you, I have to marry very soon. "

Everybody burst out laughing. 

"Mamma, she is very old. I can't be married only for a short time. I need to be married a long time." he whispered in my ear. 

"She already has a husband, babe" I tried to calm the anxious child. "She's just kidding."

"I will tell your husband" he threatened her. 

"He'll happily give me away" she laughed. 

And he did. DS did tell his granduncle what his wife did, who promptly did offer her to him. "She may be your favorite person soon."

"No. Daadi is my favorite person in the whole world."

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/