Girls just (always, OMG always) wanna have fun

The evolution of tiredness. Ah, they'll sleep like logs tonight. 😍😍

JUST KIDDING!! THESE TWO GIRLS DO NOT HAVE AN OFF SWITCH!

Send prayers 😅😅

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Girls and Boys and all that noise!

In a curious case of reverse gender inequality, someone asked this question recently. Why is it considered acceptable to say “we want a baby girl”, or even “gender doesn’t matter”. If one wants a baby boy, is it still taboo to express that?

Valentine's day

We've been married almost 13 years. We're not the limber, young newlyweds - ready to drop everything to run away on a weekend together. We've aged, we've changed and we've learned so much about ourselves and each other. We've had 2 kids together, changed endless diapers, laughed together at baby toes and toots, bought a house, gotten our siblings successfully married (to each other!) and held down good jobs. We've seen euphoric highs, and we've shared some crushing lows which only made us grow more fiercely protective of each other. I used to be impulsive, willful and headstrong. Thought I knew better. Thought I was this larger than life person with intense emotions and eyes full of stars. You know what my husband changed about that? Nothing! He still believes all those wonderful things about me and still looks at me like I'm the most exquisite woman he's ever laid eyes on. He celebrates my passions and holds me safe when life deals me a few b...

Silver Lining

Pramila was going to be late for Art Class. Second time this week, and no one to blame but herself. Well…. and Raj. Mmm Raj! With an impish smile, she adjusted her Kurta and locked the door behind her. Oh wait! Her paint brushes?!! She would look like a proper fool if she showed up tardy AND without her tools. Slipping back into her room, she looked around frantically for the supplies. Not on the sofa (Hey, Pramila), not under the table (Pramila, listen) and unsurprisingly, not in her Art Corner (I think I’m falling for you, Pramila). Where were the damn brushes?!! On a sudden whim, she peeked into the bedroom. A cozy bed blinked merrily back at her. The sheets were in absolute disarray (whose fault is that, now?) and two pillows peeked from under the thick quilt. (Prami, will you marry me?) (Shut up, Raj, you cannot be serious!) (I’m as serious as a heart attack, darling). Raj’s aftershave lingered in her bedroom - heady and tantalizing. A mental ...

Witty Bean

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