Mom: AAA+ -With a positive outlook A working momma's random thoughts about parenthood, womanhood, relationships, work and everything else!

No, Thank You. I may LOOK Pregnant, but I am NOT!

Madam, aap pregnant hain kya? Oh no, Not Again! I am at the security check booth at the airport, and this is the umpteenth time the CRPF guard on duty has asked me this question before scanning me. Anyway, from now on, I will just have to suck in my tummy and hold my breath for the few seconds that she scans me. Apart from, of course wearing flared clothing that stays far far away from the body!

There! I have admitted it! Admitted to my ridiculous shape. Those who have been reading my blogs will know that I have been baring my heart quite a bit. But believe me when I say, that admitting THIS was tougher. Tougher, because I could have easily remained anonymous on this online blog. Many you have not seen me and many who know me, saw me ages ago. When I was really different.

I was not always like this (i.e. perpetually pregnant looking). In fact, majority of my life I have been underweight and used to being called names such as chhotu, chhutki, virus (I am assuming due to size and not temperament), hangar (clothes seemed to hang off me) and hearing jibes such as – are you from Somalia? or How do people even take you seriously (with this kind of size and structure)?! On top of that diminutive frame was a small face, which meant I never looked my age, often younger than my younger sister. And of course, not to forget the Just About 5 feet height.

But I didn’t mind. Not at all! While some of my friends of similar size and structure did not like being small, I just loved my small frame! I was in college when my cousin gifted me T shirts meant for boys aged 10-12, and I was delighted. I firmly believed that all good things come in small packages. So no body image issues, none at all.

Mind you, I loved flaunting my pregnant belly both the times I was expecting. It is just that when the baby is out, but the fat remains, things aren’t so sexy anymore! I was almost underweight when I conceived the first time, and after having Arnav, I slowly lost weight over the next year or so and settled at a decent weight, with a little bit of a muffin top. Yes, I did mind not being able to fit into pre-pregnancy clothes, but it wasn’t so bad anyhow. Plus, to go back to that level, one needs to be NON lazy, committed to working out and remain disciplined about it. I knew I didn’t have it in me. So I made peace with my body.

[While we are on the topic of work out though – let me digress and share with you my experiences of gymming. So the first one was, when the movie Road released. This was 2002 and I had just started my first job. I was Super impressed with Antara Mali’s flat Abs and decided I wanted one too. I stayed in a working women’s hostel at the time and joined the nearest gym that I found. I told the instructor my area of interest i.e. my abs. To my dismay though he instructed me eat bananas, paneer and milk – basically to gain weight. Needless to say the proposed diet plus the hard work ensured that I didn’t last long. The other two experiments with gymming were after the first baby, when I still had some hopes of coming back to original shape. But after losing money both the times, having taken membership for 6 months, attracted by discounted rates, and barely making it to the gym for two months or so, I decided to confront the truth. Gymming is NOT my piece of cake. Gymming saga ends here.]

Anyway, so seven years later, I conceived again, and twins this time. I looked up pictures of women pregnant with twins – and believe me their tummies were HUGE! My doctor told me that there will be a time when I won’t be able to look down at my feet! And it all excited me!! I took pictures of my growing belly every month and shared with friends and family! And by the time I delivered, I am not exaggerating, I pretty much looked like a beached whale. But it didn’t worry me. Of course, I will be huge, I am carrying two babies. It will go once they are out.

Unfortunately, it didn’t. I waited patiently over months, waited for the fat to reduce, but it didn’t. And, it looked different from the muffin top I had earlier. It was a weird, apple kind of a shape. so of course I googled. And found out about Diastasis Recti. This is a condition that affects pregnant women – mostly after second pregnancy or in case of multiples. Both boxes checked in my case. So what happens is this, the ab muscles, whose role it is to keep your guts from falling out, become weak and get pushed apart. See how. WARNING – graphic ahead.

This was a revelation for me. And for other moms facing belly fat issues – please check if you may be suffering from the same condition. It is important because regular exercises, yoga etc. may actually make this worse. To me this was a great piece of news – because now I could tell anybody who suggested a work out to get in shape, that it is not an option for me!! That trainers who know how to deal with DR are far and few in between (to tell you the truth, I haven’t bothered checking).

So where does that leave me? I am back to getting used to my current body shape, buying large, flared clothes and munching my cheese toast and bhujia. And of course I dream about a tummy tuck/ abdominoplasty, which seems to me the easier way of getting back in shape. Though I haven’t bothered finding about that either, given all the warnings I have received from everyone I shared the idea with.

But those who are more conscious and disciplined than I am, please do the following:

Figure out what your body needs – fat reduction, muscle toning, or is it the specific case of Diastasis Recti. If so, please make sure you have the right trainer and doing the right exercises. (linking something here that I have not tried myself)
Diet control – avoid crash diets, our bodies need all nutrients, including carbs and fats in the right proportion. Focus on a lower calorie diet, rather than omitting certain food types (e.g. fat, carbs) and Do Not try to lose weight too fast. Your body will get it all back eventually. You can look at this app, I found it interesting.
Do a full body check up, including hormone levels and thyroid functioning. Sometimes, weight gain (or loss) can be due to those imbalances.

But those like me, sit back and relax, your body shape doesn’t determine who you are anyway.

Lotsa Love and Cheer!

Grieving the Loss of the Perfect Child

From the time a baby is conceived, parents and close family start weaving their dreams around it. How would it look like, a girl or a boy, what kind of a person will she grow into and so on. We all have our image of a perfect baby, the perfect child. He is an embodiment of our dreams and aspirations.

When we found out we were having twins, we were ecstatic. Images of fun filled laughter, two little babies gamboling together, two pairs of little feet running around the house, filled our minds. We loved watching twin videos on YouTube, tickled with the thought that this fun would soon be ours. When Abeer and Anvay were born – we talked often about how they would turn out when they grow. Abeer, the attitude kid, looked set to become a Rockstar and Anvay, with his perfectly proportioned body was going to be our super model. We imagined the two boys and their same aged cousin, in their early twenties at Arnav’s wedding. Three lanky young boys, having the time of their lives.

But now I am not so sure if these images would ever become reality. Because unknown to us, while we celebrated the birth of our twins, Anvay had sustained brain damage. Anvay, the healthier of the two, who was not even a likely candidate, had sustained brain damage. I have no clue, what happened between the two minutes between the time they both came out, that led to this. Their birth was apparently normal. The doctors did not find any anomaly. In fact, they did not even do an MRI when Anvay was discharged (which they did on Abeer) from the hospital – I am assuming because nobody expected what had happened.

The news that your baby is damaged is devastating to any parent. Devastating is actually putting it very lightly. It rocks the world of the parents. All the dreams, hopes and desires come crashing down. The process of grieving begins. Yes, it is grieving. You grieve for what could have been, what should have been and why it isn’t what should have been. The parent grieves for the loss of the perfect child, the imagined child. A parent will typically go through all the stages of grieving – denial, anger, bargaining, grief, and eventual acceptance. I recently read a blog from a parent who writes about grieving for a child she has not lost.

I like to believe I am stoic. And I am, to the extent of being able to control my emotions outwardly. I took the news as normally as possible – showing concern, but able to hide the panic. Reading pages after pages on his condition and internalising all the good and bad scenarios. I managed to harden myself to the extent of being able to talk about it without losing composure. I told a few friends/colleagues – but I opened my mouth only when the instinct to break down had been pushed down to the depths of my stomach. I can proudly say that I managed to explain his condition as objectively as possible. The discussions with the neurologist were kept as matter of fact as possible – even humourous.

But grief has a way of coming out. You hold it tightly at one end, it will slip out from another. I remember watching Dunkirk and realized I was crying – it had nothing to do with the movie. Sometime on a plane – watching Hello Zindagi, I discovered my face was all teared up. I can’t remember the number of times I have cried sitting in the backseat of my car, safe in the knowledge that my driver doesn’t have eyes in his head. But I learnt to let the tears flow. They needed to come out, for us to be able to move ahead and plan for Anvay’s recovery, with a clear head.

Anvay was 6 months old (corrected age 4 months), when his pediatrician said that his muscle tone is high. It made no sense to me. He then went on to say something about spasticity – which rang a bell in my mind. Spastic? Does that not mean mentally retarded? (it does not) I was immediately horrified and the image of a helpless, mentally retarded child went through my mind. And laughably, one of my thoughts was whether he would ‘look’ normal. That, really is the least of my concerns.

Once we got the MRI done, we got a confirmed diagnosis of PVL – a form of white matter damage in the brain. Our pediatrician (he is a great guy) told us not to worry. He had seen many cases, where children with PVL after initial years of struggle went on to lead perfectly normal lives. Though he was concerned about his CVI – which is a visual impairment where the eyes can see but the brain cannot perceive. But when we found out that Anvay was also having seizures, also known as infantile spasms, he sounded pessimistic for the first time. And that I think also finally sagged my spirits.

However, there is hope. His spasms seem to have been mild and were treated within one month. They have not recurred since and we have our fingers crossed till he turns two. He is improving – albeit slowly – but that is expected. He is rolling now, holding things in his hand and the other day, he ate a biscuit on his own. Every little step he takes is a cause for great happiness. He is a very happy baby and has the loveliest smile – it makes our day when he smiles at us. His naughty little personality has also started to shine through!

I talked about our dreams crashing. But I had also started the new year with a new hope. We are rebuilding our dreams. I believe in the human spirit – that it can rise up to any challenge and overcome it. I am sure Anvay and we will find a way. If one door closes, there are many others waiting to open – we just need to be willing to look for them…

Anvay IS my perfect child – as different and as unique as my other two….

Abeer – Living with a bratty Toddler!

All of 1.25 Kgs, Abeer stepped into this world 8 weeks early. Tiny and all tubed up – is how Kapil and I saw him for the first time. Our hearts went out to the little one – but almost immediately, both of us commented that he looks like a Rockstar. We were of course not alluding to any good looks – at that size and weight, he could best be described as ugly (barely human) – it was his attitude – there was something in the expression even then, that said, I care two hoots! We didn’t realise then, how close to the mark we were! Now that he is 15 months, he looks us straight in the eye (with a devilish glint in his own), baiting us, before proceeding to do the exact thing he has been told (requested /pleaded/ begged) not to!!

We shouldn’t be surprised. I think we had enough warning even while he was in the womb. Fetus A. That is how we knew him, through the 32 weeks of my pregnancy. Fetus A was clearly the more feisty one – he was always on the move! I was sure that he was the wild girl I had always wanted. So sure, that I had already chosen a name for him and his twin – Aranya and Arin. Aranya means the forest, the jungle – apt name for my wild girl. Wild he is, girl he was not. Well at least I was right on one count!

Before we get to know Abeer, we need to get back to Arnav – our first born. A totally sweet tempered child, who never kept us awake during the night, who was so absolutely well behaved whether at home or outside that everyone was amazed. Baby proofing? No need! Protecting walls? Absolutely not! Toy shop tantrums? Never! Public embarrassment? Out of the question! People commended us on how well we were raising our baby! We credited the sweet nature of our child – but somewhere we were sure some credit must also go to us! If nothing else, at least our genes must have something to do with having the perfect child! But how wrong we were! Come Abeer, and any self-congratulatory thoughts we had about our parenting have been thrown out the door!

Even before he learnt to roll or sit, he had mastered all the bullying sounds ever. Aaiiih???AAiihh? AAIIhh? AAIIHH!!!! Screaming with an increasing volume and pitch, he sure knew how to get attention, without moving a limb. Nana and nani, two people devoted to him, were the most abused as well! There was no way nani could save her spectacles or bindi from being snatched away. These days, she is filling in as the pole Abeer uses to slide down the bed.

And let us not even talk about his treatment of the younger twin. I don’t think he even realizes that Anvay is also a living being. (or if he does, he has clearly decided to ignore that) He likes to go and plonk himself directly on Anvay’s face. If Anvay has a pacifier in his mouth, Abeer would surely pull it out and put it in his own. These days he loves to snatch the milk bottle out of Anvay’s mouth and either start drinking from it or put on its cap. Pulling his hair, crawling over him or sitting on him are totally normal in the course of the day.

And what about the sweet tempered elder brother? Well, on more than one occasion (multiple actually), Arnav has come crying to me, complaining how Abeer is bothering him – he has either slapped Arnav or is sitting in the middle of some game he is playing or maybe torn the current book he is reading. While Arnav is quite protective about Anvay, he looks at Abeer as his equally able opponent!! Since last week, Arnav has been the Jaeger and Abeer the Kaiju (those who have seen Pacific Rim will know what I am talking about)

And did I say, we didn’t believe in baby proofing? Really? Well, I am reconsidering. After having just learnt to walk, he leaves a trail of destruction behind him. Any room he decides to visit – is left ransacked. I think he would put Mahmud Ghazni (or was it Ghouri) to shame. Oh and wait – once you see him pick up an object and send it sailing across the room – you would agree that he has a bright future in discus throwing.

But seriously can I blame him? There is clearly nothing else that is more exciting. I wonder really about the claims made by toy companies – how well researched each toy is – the colours, the texture, the sensory and gross motor skills the baby will develop etc etc. Well let me tell them, they are WRONG! They have absolutely no clue what their target group likes – it is usually not toys. (Even the wrapping paper is preferred to the actual toy!) By the way, tearing the day’s fresh newspaper is one of his favourite past times :-/

A toddler first of all loves the dustbin – the more full it is, the better he can throw things about. Second is a boring black laptop or a phone. No, it doesn’t have to be on. It will still attract the baby. Third – household cutlery – tell me one child who would prefer a toy truck over a sharp fork. And such fun in pulling out all utensils from the drawer and throwing them – have you heard the lovely sound that makes? Can any electric toy even compare with that sound? And now that it is summer – an open fridge will attract them like bees to honey. I cannot open the fridge without him getting between my legs and trying to pull out everything in sight. I can write pages….

And don’t think he doesn’t know what he is doing. He does. Very much. And then to make up, he turns on his full charm. He knows very well the effect of his lop sided smile, or his adorably cute singing and dancing routine (mix of bhangra and pop – we told you he is a rockstar, didn’t we?) and if that doesn’t work he starts walking backwards on the bed, spurring every adult in vicinity into action.

He is our source of non stop entertainment in his waking hours. Well no, even in his about to sleep hours – remember Sid from Ice Age? Yes? Remember the scene where he was trying to go to sleep? No? Look at this. Well this is exactly how Abeer goes off to sleep! Flipping and flopping on the bed – tossing around the entire length and breadth, before he finds a position and spot he is comfortable in. And mercifully he sleeps then. And so do we, happy at having survived another day! Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz………..

P.S. tell me your toddler stories too!

Birthday Time! Who wants to be an agent?!

I love birthdays! Mine is in February and I remember as soon as we stepped into the new year, I would start counting days to my birthday! That day made me feel so special! It was MINE! And I think that excitement was seeded in me because my mum was excited about it. She would stitch (herself) two new frocks for me – one that I could wear in the morning and the other at the party in the evening! The two frocks continued till pre primary years because after that the school didn’t allow coloured clothes even for the birthday girl (Oh Damn!)

Party planning would begin weeks before, where we detailed out the invitee list (I never could decide who not to invite), the party menu, games, the design of the new frock (heh heh) and finally the return gifts. Mumma would buy all kinds of odds and ends which we would wrap in colourful paper and give out as return gifts. It was as exciting as receiving the gifts. And then there was this whole fun of distributing sweets in class and then roaming around in school, going to every class and giving sweets to the class teachers. (totally pandered to my attention seeking self).

Well, unfortunately nothing lasts forever – and I grew up. The parties have now given way to dinner at some restaurant (blah!). So where does the excitement come from? Of course my child’s birthday! Since his 4^th birthday, we have been having theme parties and my love for planning shows up in full force – a month or more of planning goes into each birthday! (Really, I know my alternate vocation was an event planner!) And now, we have all bought into this theme party thing. As soon as one birthday party is over – we start deciding the next theme! (I tell you, we are a bunch of obsessed people!)

Anyway, to cut the long story short – this year’s theme was around spies, agents and detectives. Planning involved deciding on the return gifts and party games, decorations and cake. Hours of internet search, pinterest and shopping from amazon. That’s what went into this year’s birthday. Sharing snippets for all of you below.

First the invites – we either get something online or my designer husband fashions something out of his brain. This time it was the internet. Thanks to halfahundredacrewood, I got some good printables for invites as well as other stuff, that I then customised for our party.

Then came the planning for goodie bags. Amazon has been a saviour. I ordered most of the stuff online – the magnifying glasses were actually ordered in the US since I was travelling there just before the party! So here goes – have a look at the lovely goodies!

We had an agent notebook, an invisible ink pen, detective shades and a magnifying glass. There was of course chocolate for those times that an agent might have to go hungry while spying! We put it all in brown paper envelopes marked TOP SECRET and these were given out when the mission was accomplished. (Most of the stuff came from Amazon.)

The mission of course was Arnav’s birthday and no agent could finish it without going through a series of tests. Tests that measured the agents’ agility, flexibility, intelligence, memory and speed. So let’s see all that the young agents had to endure! (Long post alert!)

The first thing an agent did on arrival was his/ her identification. They had all brought their passport sized pictures and we stuck them on their ID cards and they were fingerprinted. Their specialisations were also mentioned on their IDs.

The first test involved going under laser rays, and only those who managed to slip past the lowest gap cleared this round. We lowered the level of the last laser till only four were able to make it. You will see that we have used broad red ribbon for this. You could use red wool or red tape or even red party streamers. It may be a good idea to attach bells or ghungroos to these so that it would be obvious if someone touched it. Again, we did this according the space we had – if you have a small corridor, it would be even more fun to have children crawl through this. You can get some ideas here.

After this adrenaline pumping exercise, agents’ logical abilities were put to test. We gave them 3 sets of codes to crack. All the agents sat down so seriously for this exercise that I was worried they will think they were given an exam (indeed one or two of the kids called me ma’am!!). However, I later realised, they really enjoyed the activity, when some kids went back to the codes even after the activity! This is where I got my sheets, have a look if you want to.

After this was a test of speed and agility. We played a version of dog and the bone. Agents were divided into two teams of Russian and American agents and the contest was to get to the clue first. After all that mental hard work, this game got the agents up and running again! And then there was the memory test! We put an assortment of trinkets on a tray, showed it around for a few minutes and then asked the agents to write down all they could remember.

It was fun to see that after all this hard work, no kid seemed to be worried about food or the cake! But of course we were! So here we are, cake cutting finally! Of course the cake had to be detective themed!

For food – I just got a box each with some chips, a burger and a drink. After years of over ordering, we realised, that kids are not really very interested in eating at birthday parties!

We finally ended the party with a round of pass the dynamite. Basically, a take on the traditional passing the parcel, except that in this case, they were passing a bomb around and every time it exploded, the victim got a Blast (name of the chocolate!) and the winner got the fuse (name of another chocolate). Have a look at the dynamite below – and this is totally home production – Dear Husband’s creative skills put to full use! We wrapped a tin box in red paper and stuffed it full with chocolates. If you want you can attach a timer to it to add to the excitement.

Finally, the day was over and Arnav immediately started thinking about the theme fr next year’s party. We really enjoyed planning for the party and having it and so did the kids. And the best compliment was when one of the mums’ told me that her son asked her afterwards, why he didn’t have a birthday like this!

So any suggestions for next year’s party theme?!

P.S. If you liked this blog, keep a watch on this space as I will write about previous birthdays also.

Death Comes as the End

This is the cover of an Agatha Christie novel. Yes, we all are big Agatha Christie fans here. We have proudly displayed almost her entire collection in our drawing room. My dad also liked Agatha Christie. In fact, I think he was the one who instilled the love of Agatha Christie and for that matter all detective/ mystery novels in us. A very long ago memory – perhaps when I was 7 or 8 – lying in bed with him at night time and listening to the story of “Why didn’t they tell Evans” – another Agatha Christie novel. I remember the fascinating cover of the novel very vividly – a huge skull covering almost the whole page.

But despite knowing that Death does come as the end, I don’t think anyone is ever prepared for it. Even in the case of terminally ill patients, even in the case of a 90 plus parent… you always wish the time with them lasted some more. And so do I… I wish he had been there to see Abeer walk (he walked a few days after papa’s death); I wish he had waited to see Arnav’s new school; I wish he had waited for me to establish this blog – a platform I had wanted to use to share his ideas also with the world… I wish; I wish; I wish…

Birth and death, despite being the most basic truth of human life, both seem equally unbelievable to me. Every time I look at my kids, I wonder at the wonder of life. Of how life emerges from another human being. I cannot believe that they took shape inside me. That they were crafted from a cell. Similarly, death. I am just unable to wrap my head around the fact that a living, laughing person just suddenly disappears into nothingness. And you have blank walls staring at you, when you want to reach out to him. The person is no more. NO MORE.

I don’t think a day has gone by since he left us, that I have not wished that things had turned out differently. Not a day, that I have not missed him. The wound somehow has become deeper in fact. They say time heals – so I am waiting for that to happen. But many have also said that you can never get over the loss of a parent. And it is very different when you lose someone who lived with you. Every little thing in the house, every room screams out his absence. I remember the day I was hanging out washing – I wash clothes by colour – and it was whites that day – and there weren’t any of his baniyans (vests) to hang. I don’t think anything else made me feel his absence so strongly.

The video camera battery that he had asked me to bring from the U.S. – which we ultimately used for his remembrance meeting. The half full case of weekly medicines (medicines eaten till the morning of his stroke) – the unfinished cornflakes (he only liked Mohun’s – Kellog’s didn’t do it for him) – his drawer of tools and PCBs and other electrical equipment – the Nano which he drove (it killed me when Arnav asked who will pick him up from school now or who will the stuff in nanaji’s drawer belong to now) – the weirdly pained expression with which Arnav talks about him – the cooler which he set up every summers – each and every thing a painful reminder of his absence.

I would meet Papa quite often either going down the building or coming up as I came back home in the evening. And kurta pajama was his usual attire. Yesterday evening, when I came out of the lift on our floor, I glimpsed a kurta pajama, before seeing the face. My heart stopped for a millionth of a second. But of course, it was not him. So many times, when the phone has rung, for a split second, I expected it to be him. And then there is his image of saying bye to me at the lift, feeling slightly cold and I telling him to go back to the house – as I left for the airport to go to DC – the last living image of him….

For his remembrance meeting, we had picked a very happy picture of his – we didn’t want the usual passport photo as his reminder. After the meeting, we kept his picture in our dining room. But we soon realized we didn’t want a reminder of his absence. Without it, we could at least make ourselves believe he is in another room.

And sometimes I wonder what my mum feels – if this is how strongly I feel about his death. That is what we are all condemned with – life after death. Not that of deceased, but of the living. The lives that we all lead, after losing someone close. The silent grief we all carry, unable many times to share with others. When the mourners leave, we the living are left behind to pick up the pieces of our lives, lives after death.

Anyway, as people say, I hope he is in a happier place now. He sure seems to have been collecting some interesting people. After getting over the shock of Sridevi’s death, my next thought was that papa will have some good company there! And now Stephen Hawking. “I regard the brain as a computer which will stop working when its components fail. There is no heaven or afterlife for broken down computers.” – words, by Stephen Hawking that my sister messaged me this morning, saying she thought of our dad while reading this message. But just in case they are both wrong, I would like to imagine they are discussing the secrets of the universe somewhere!

By the way, this also was not a planned blog. I had actually planned to write something happy this time – about Abeer, who is increasingly becoming naughty. But I just could not write. I guess this needed to come out before I could write any further. Now that I have written about Death, I hope I will be able to write about Life. So long!

Mumma… What is success?

umm… I am not sure how to answer this one. Of course I want my kids to have a successful life – but what really constitutes a successful life? Money? Position? Fame? Happiness? Contentment? Satisfaction? All of these? Some of these? What is a life well lived? Is that the same as being successful?

I asked my peer group what they thought and got some interesting responses. Most agreed that the definition of success varies from person to person and at different points of life. Some said it is a mental state. Some said being happy and content is success. Some others said being successful means using oneself to their full potential. Yet another view was to not compare with others and live for oneself.

I agree and follow most of the above. But that’s not the full picture. Material achievements also matter to me. As I think back on my own life – I can see that things like money or possessions got added to my list of desires much later in life. As a student, it never mattered what marks others got – I had my own targets and parameters. At one point in my life, it didn’t matter whether or not I made money or owned a big house. So then what happened? Marriage and family commitments? Or a society that counted only material success?

I still remember, very early in my career, at a batch get together, the first question a batch mate asked was whether I had bought a car or not! And hastily, almost defensively I had explained that we had invested in a house first and will buy a car next year 🙂 It was also common to hear batch mates discuss who is doing well and who is not. The discussion would almost always boil down to salary packages and positions.

As a society, Indians seem to value only material achievements. (A total contrast to the image of us as spiritual beings and India being the land of spirituality!!) One is considered successful, if earning more than peers or wielding more power than them. Simple.

When parents measure success – their own, or of other people, or their kids’ through only material attributes, the same is consciously or subconsciously fed into the minds of our children and also feeds into our expectations of them. Moreover, constant comparison teaches the child to measure her success against others.

Things may have changed in the last few generations – but when I read news reports about children committing suicide or even trying to murder younger children to avoid exams or PTMs – I really wonder about the extent of this change.

A few generations ago – academics were the only way to a good job and therefore success – anything else that was remotely risky was discouraged – arts, entrepreneurship, sports. Engineers, doctors, Govt services were the preferred career choices – all safe bets. MBA got added to the list as high pay packages were heard of. Now some sports such as cricket, tennis, badminton – but only those where some level of success has been demonstrated. A cricket academy will still be more popular than a football academy. Creative careers are also coming up slowly – but not fast enough. And entrepreneurship? Barely raising the bar there – other than perhaps the IT start ups – and that’s because they attract capital. Talent? Only if it helps to make money or gets fame at least. What about strugglers? I don’t think anyone wants to even talk about them. It is telling when Steve Wozniak says success in India is academic excellence and a good job. He compares a small country like New Zealand that has so many singers and athletes to a large country like India that barely makes a dent in the creative space.

In this discussion, I think of my dad. He was a very bright mind -an inventor who must have developed dozens of products, patented some, even developed board games and card games and wrote books and short stories. On top of that a great human being, a great dad. But unfortunately no marketer. And hence an unsuccessful businessman. If one looks at his whole life I would consider it a life well lived – but a lot of people around him would probably just brand him unsuccessful.

So what is a successful life for me? At the end of my life – I would want to be happy and content and have as few regrets as possible. Happiness and contentment would come to me with a successful career, having enough money to live a comfortable life, see the world, some solid relationships, and strong and secure children. And this is what I would like to tell my children too.

And how do I raise a strong and secure child?

Value the person he is – and teach him to value himself (that does not mean going ga ga over every little thing he does :-D)
Help him excel in his area of capability – no point trying to fit a square into a round. Otherwise we are creating a recipe for disaster.
Teach him the value of hard work and the importance of struggle. Unfortunately there is too much instant gratification nowadays and I am guilty of that too.
Appreciate his failures as well and guide him to learn from those. (I regret every time I lose my patience when he fails – I am also learning)
Have a strong relationship with him – he will automatically have strong relationships later in life. (I think we are doing pretty well in that area!)
Mould him according to the person he is: a laidback child – teach him the importance of hard work; a very hard working child or achievement oriented – teach him to relax sometimes and learn to fail; a perfectionist – teach him not to find fault with others and so on…
Tell him that comparison is a tool to be used only selectively
Let him arrive at his own definition of success and what he wants to achieve in life. Guide him, but do not tell him what he should do. (I think that was the BEST thing my parents did for us – always let us find our way)

That is quite a long list and I hope I don’t forget these as I bring up our children! Do share your tips as well!

This one is about fathers…

I lost mine two weeks ago. My sister and I were very close to him. He was very different from most fathers of his generation. A father who completely trusted us and our ability to take decisions. A father who shared and discussed his value system but never forced it on us. One who let us develop our own identities and personas. A father broad minded enough to tell his daughter leaving for higher studies to not commit to her boyfriend but keep her options open.

A hands on father – he packed our lunches all through our school lives. One who made the perfect glass of milk – the perfect temperature, the right balance of Horlicks and sugar and no lumps left after mixing. 🙂 Even now, he was the one who gave us our night glasses of milk!! (Have been skipping milk now for most of the last two weeks).

We discussed everything under the sun with him – science, the big bang, evolution, history, geography, Agatha Christies, politics, religion, sex, relationships – you name it. Our relationship with our parents was highlighted by its openness. Not once do I remember ever having to lie to them or to hide anything from them.

Anyway. My meandering mind will keep dredging up memories and this blog will end up becoming about just one father. I wanted to write about fathers and fatherhood. No expert on parenting or relationships, I just wanted to write about how fathers have added meaning to their relationships. And I feel it is especially important in today’s context, as more and more fathers are becoming hands on parents. Many of them will not have similar reference points from their own childhood.

Be yourself. A cliche but true. The person one is, will define the kind of father he will be. Don’t try to be something different as a father. No point being a disciplinarian, if you are someone who lives life by the moment. Just be yourself, and let the child evolve into herself.
Respect – Before love, care or anything, the emotion that comes first is respect. I believe, that the foundation of any relationship, is respect. And if you respect those around you, your child learns the same. I think that was one of the first values we were taught at home.
Love with all your heart – Traditionally men have been conditioned to restrain their emotions. No need to. My husband is one of the MOST soppy fathers I have ever seen. And he is not ashamed. And his kids absolutely love it!
Keep your promises – One of the most vivid memories my husband has from his childhood is when his father kept his promise of buying him a bicycle. His father worked in a different city and he took a special leave just to come back to his home town and buy his son the bicycle on the promised date. You keep your promises – your kids will learn to keep theirs.
Fun time – I once stayed at a relatives’ place. The next morning, I woke up to see him and his kids excitedly getting ready for a walk. The amount of excitement, energy and fun there was in the air, will forever remain etched in my mind. Making the mundane and the trivial fun is an art. And fun is what makes our memories bright and sunny.
Labour of love – Its not only the mom’s job to do all the physical work. Bathe your baby, feed him, clean him, oil his hair, cook for him, help him with homework and crafts and basically everything. My brother in law does it all. Respect.
Alone time – Just have some daddy – baby time together. Go and eat out. See a movie together. Chill out at places you both like. My son loves this time he spends with his dad.
And the list can go on….. But I don’t plan to do all the work. Please share your own experiences with your dads or as dads yourselves. Would love to hear from you. So Long!

Glad I said Thank You…

This was actually not supposed to be my third post. I had no plans to write a post like this. And I don’t even know why I am writing this. But I need to write. For myself.

As he barely hangs on to his life – all I can think is that I am glad I said Thank You. I was travelling last week when I wrote my second post. He had sounded very pleased when we discussed my blog. He was happy that I had acknowledged his unselfish support to all of us. And now I am consoled remembering that happiness.

He had come to see me off at the lift and I did not know that, that was probably the last time I was seeing him conscious. I did not know when I spoke to him from Frankfurt that, that was probably the last time I will be speaking with him.

Among our various discussions, we had discussed death and beyond. He is an atheist and I remember asking him even when I was very little – what will he do if after dying he finds out that God does exist. He would laugh and say, I will accept it then.

Among other things, we discussed organ donation. I never expected how difficult it would be to discuss it with the doctors. He is 73 and unfortunately with a weak body. I do not know if the doctors will find anything that can be donated. I hope they do. Something at least. It would make him happy.

His atheism makes it difficult for me to pray for him. He would scoff at the idea. Medical Science has given up on him. What we could never make him understand was that God or faith or belief comes after all logic and knowledge ends. So I do not know who or what to turn to. Anyway it doesn’t matter now. All that matters is that I loved and he knew – I hope so at least.

In the end what matters is not that we loved or that we respected or cherished someone. What matters is that we tell them. That they know.

So please go and tell your loved ones what you feel for them. For I am sure glad that I thanked him…. Just in time.

It takes more than a village…

PHEW!! yes it does… especially when we are talking about raising twins. The first year can be especially tough and parents can do with all the help they can get. Between feeding, diaper changing, calming bawling babies everything may just seem overwhelming.

Abeer and Anvay were premature and it felt weirdly empty when I came back home without them. It also meant going to the hospital at least twice daily with pumped milk for them. Emotionally it was not easy to see the tiny bodies hooked to so many wires. It hurt to see little blue marks where the needles had pricked them. Physically it was tough to make so many trips to the hospital, while recovering from a major surgery myself. The pain naturally took much longer to go away.

Once they came home, focus was weight gain and they needed to be fed every 2-3 hours. Which meant almost no sleep at night! Being on maternity leave at that time, I took on the job of night time feeding. I did manage to catch some sleep in between – but despite that it was quite exhausting.

Some days were tougher than others. Days when one or both of twins would be inconsolable. Nights when they were sick. Trips to the hospital were tough with two infants in tow. And we had a larger share than normal due to a number of extra check ups for preemies. All in all, a physically and emotionally draining first few months.

Everyone pitched in – in whatever way they could. While nani helped in overall baby care, nanaji became the de facto provider of medicines, milk bottles etc. etc. Mausi came down from Bombay to help. Arnav also took on big brother responsibilities – like bottle feeding 🙂

Daddy has a special gift for calming down crying babies and putting them to sleep. I bet no baby anywhere in the world has been put to sleep with their dad loudly singing (while rocking them) songs from Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham!!! I can’t claim it will work on other babies – but it worked like magic on ours. (of course only when sung by dad – none of the others ever dared!)

Once I joined work, nana and nani became the primary care givers during the day. Hats off to them for managing two babies so well. And once my travel started, dadi came in from Jaipur to provide support whenever required. And while Babaji could not physically come – his willingness to manage alone was a huge support by itself. The San Francisco, trip would not have been possible without chacha, chachi volunteering help.

In case of a working mother, the ‘village’ extends to the workplace. I am very lucky to be working in a very supportive organisation. Even before the twins were born, I was advised to work from home due to the high risk. My then manager agreed. Despite all the rest, they were born 8 weeks early – I shudder to think what might have happened if my manager had not agreed so readily to let me work from home. Once I joined back, my new manager was happy to support flex hours or work from home as needed. He also helped me move to an office location closer home. My team members were always there to catch the ball if I dropped it. A supportive workplace can do wonders do reduce the stress involved in bringing up infants.

And now all of you, who have read my blog and supported it, have become part of our village too by encouraging us. Please keep reading and sharing.

As I end, just a few tips for new parents, (or older ones too):

Feel free to ask for help. As Harry Potter Says, “Help shall always be given to those who ask for it”. It might be tough (it is for me), but it will help you get through, and it will actually strengthen relations.
Get your ‘me’/ ‘together’ time. In our case, it didn’t apply only to me or my husband. It applied equally to nana and nani too. We made sure we give breaks to each other. Many times we went out in ones, or twos or threes, for dinner/ shopping/ movies/ parties.
Do not take anyone for granted – not even each other. We were all giving up on something or the other – sleep, fun, work. It was a community task – but it is important to appreciate everyone’s role.
Change roles – sometimes, changing roles can also give one a breather.
Try online shopping! I got addicted when I started shopping for my older son’s birthday! It saves you time and gives you more choices. And I don’t know if you have felt it too – but whenever an online order is delivered – I feel the same excitement as I would on getting a gift!
Take a deep breath.
Try and ask for a supportive work environment. The new Maternity Bill that got passed last year is a huge step towards supporting new mothers.
Finally, this too shall pass! When you are through the exhaustion, the fatigue, the sleeplessness – you will be able to look back and appreciate the laughs, the tears, the milestones and the stronger you!!

A new year… and new hope…

Another year has begun and it is time to reflect on the year gone by and look forward to the new year. As I look back, I realise it is actually two years and not one, two years that are rolled into one. I cannot remember when one ended and the other began. Two years that were no short of a turbulent albeit exhilarating roller coaster ride. Two years that were at the same time very challenging and equally joyful. Going from a difficult twin pregnancy to premature babies to discovering that one of them has special needs – we pretty much covered a wide spectrum of experiences and emotions in the last two years!

2016 began with a wish for a new baby and ended with two little bundles of joy! The grandparents, parents and the little ‘big’ brother were as pleased as they could be. 2017 went by in a whirlwind of managing babies Abeer and Anvay! Everyone pitched in – grandparents, mausi-mausa and even big bro Arnav! He loved carrying them around like his personal dolls!

The twins are now a year old – and I feel I am able to look up and breathe a little, reflect some and share some more.

The last eight years have been awesome fun with our first born Arnav – we just loved the little bundle of joy and I was surprised at the strong love that such a little thing could evoke in me! We decided to be ‘cool’ parents i.e. not hold back on doing anything, just because we now had a small baby. Arnav watched his first movie with us at less than 2 months of age! And before he turned 1, he went on a trip to Jaisalmer and Jodhpur in the bitter December cold! We were not daunted by the fact that the train that we had tickets for, changed its route and avoided our stop completely!! We nevertheless took a 7 hour bus ride to Jodhpur, followed by another long bus ride (this time in a local bus with open windows) to Jaisalmer – all with a big suitcase, a big pram and a 10 month old!!

So to cut a long story short – we loved parenting so much that we wanted more (well one more) and were gifted with two!! And it is great fun but a lot of hardwork too 🙂 But we have decided not to be overwhelmed by the hard work and follow the same policy of not stopping fun because of the babies. So in their first year, the twins have watched most of the new movies, been twice to Jaipur, been all the way to San Francisco and back (2 infants in a long haul flight – GAWD!) and to Bombay. And we are hoping for more adventures this year 😉

But why am I writing a blog? Because I have realised over the last two years, that this is becoming one of the best ways to reach out to people – whether those I know or those that I want to know. I am one of those people that immediately resort to google when faced with a question – and the number of searches I did in the last two years would have probably surpassed all my searches before that! I looked up everything from conceiving, to having a healthy pregnancy to all the horrors that can happen with premature delivery to managing premature babies and finally to understanding the number of medical terms that were coming our way once we found that all was not right with Anvay. I also read personal stories of people who were in similar situations – some gave me hope, some scared me, some gave me useful information. I also scoured blogs on creative ideas, birthday ideas and everything was there for taking. However, I found very few people who were blogging from India.

So here I am, wanting to share my thoughts, ideas, suggestions, learnings with all those who would like to connect. This is my first post – already delayed by about 3 weeks (Hazard of being a Triple A mom – unable to finish anything in time) and I would love for you to connect with me, encourage me and share your ideas and stories as well!