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Showing posts from July, 2019

Two Days

My birthday is coming up in a week. I’ll be a year older, a year wiser(or so my husband,Raghav hopes) So this year, I’m doing something different for my birthday. Now we’ve had a rather bouncy year. 2 surgeries(Nirav and me), amazing events (new house/new pet/new job) along with all the other little bumps and bruises that make our lives more interesting. There’s been lots of laughter and major fun. Many beach trips and fingers sticky from too much ice cream. Sun-kissed perfection and memories to be thankful for. We’ve had plenty of euphoric moments where I look around and think I’m just winning at this whole motherhood business. And then something happens. Someone has an hour long tantrum or I step over the hundredth toy left on the floor. Self doubt creeps in. Drop by drop, thought by thought, like a little leak on the ceiling. Before soon, I’m wrecked with guilt and fear that I’m not raising my children well. There’ve been mornings when I haven’t wanted to get up and nights when s

This one is for my Autism Folks.

We know about autism. We know about Anxiety. But sometimes, it’s more than that.

Catch me live! Tomorrow!

I will be live again tomorrow on the Momspresso Facebook page, reading another award-winning short story. I hope you’ll join me! For those of you in the US, I’ll be saving the video so you can watch it the next morning with your cup of coffee. Here’s the link: https://m.facebook.com/Momspresso/ Indian Time - Friday, July 26 @ 11.30 AM. US times : Thursday, July 25 @ 11.00 PM (Pacific) Thursday, July 25 @ 1.00 AM (Central) and 2.00 AM (Eastern). And again, thank you all for your love and support. I couldn’t do this without you

Except for these.

The sepia sunlight of a summer evening. Birds twittering, squirrels scampering. Acres of green grass, broken by a dozen giggly faces. One more whoosh down the slide. One last round on the seesaw before dinner and a bath. There are no perfect moments. Except for these.

Therapuppy

This human completely approves of her Therapuppy©️ (therapy + Puppy). Whether it’s battling big feelings, anxiety or whatever’s floating in my soup for the day, Minnie always, always knows how to bring me down. A flash of her pink tongue, a kiss, the occasional belly rub. I breathe in her fuzzy head, and the world seems brighter. She’s feisty and bossy and sheds like a champion. But by God, she’s the best thing that's happened to me all year!

No Cheating

I must have been 7 and in second grade. I was in a different classroom than all my usual friends and at that age; you feel the separation at a much deeper level. But after a few weeks, I was ok and thriving because of Ms. Reena, our class teacher. Now Ms. Reena was new to our school (and teaching, I suspected). She was young, very slender and had a pretty nose, very much like my mom’s. I secretly fantasized that she was my “School mother” and delighted in being a total teacher’s pet. I would help her with arranging the chalk and watering the half-dead plant in the classroom. On one occasion, I even packed an extra “Gems” pack for her, because I thought she might like the sweetness after her daily lunch of Upma. I adored her with that childish passion unique to 7-year-olds, and looked forward to Monday mornings when she’d walk into the classroom with those slender payals, trailing a scent of sandalwood behind her. Now I may have been a teacher’s pet, but I was also a decent kid. Unt

Goddess mode - On!

Growing up in middle class India, in the 80s and 90s, makeup was not a huge deal. The only time I had on anything close to a beauty product, was on the School Annual Day Stage Performance. And even then, it was a hastily applied layer of garish cream which made all of us look uniformly ghostly. Real foundations and bold lipsticks were for Kitty parties and Movie Stars. Or maybe when you had to attend Payal Didi’s wedding in South Bombay. Otherwise it was talcum powder + Kajal + chapstick, and you were ready to take on the day in your Bata chappals. Even today, I don’t have too many skills in the beauty department. Lipstick, eyebrow pencil, eyeliner and BB cream. That’s my entire repertoire. Sometimes I will feel extra fancy and bring out the mascara. And then there're those days where I cannot step outside without concealer because, hello racoon eyes! And yet, every time I start my barebones beauty routine, this little voice inside squeaks, “Why do you need all t

My daughter and her friend.

We had an interesting look into human nature, last month. My son, Nirav had gone up to San Francisco with his dad, so Reya and I hit all the local fun spots. Library, Food truck, Ice cream, Park. It was close to 5 pm when we get to the playground. There are 3 swings. A baby coos at us from the bucket swings, and smiling delightedly, Reya hops on the vacant one. Next to us, on the last swing sits an older boy. Well, young man really. Probably in his early twenties, with a handsome face and the greenest eyes I’ve seen. He’s humming to himself and doesn’t respond when Reya squeaks hello in his direction. On deeper inspection, I realized that he is chanting softly. “Hmmm and that is 29,” “Hmmm and that is 30,” “Hmmm and that is 31,” He goes on and on. Odd? Well, depends on your definition of the word. I had spent half the day, talking in a Cartoon voice to Reya, so we’re no more or less weird than this angelic-looking dude.  After a while, Reya starts chanting