We often stop by the park on the way back from D’s school. The kids enjoy and it’s a lot easier to get the evening fruit down their throat. D is happily running around, Dlittle walks cluelessly here and there, looking out for anything interesting on the ground that can make way to the taste buds, if only the mother let it be.


Amongst few kids that were present in the park that day, there was this hindi speaking family. The mother, father, a boy and a girl. The boy was in the 7 - 10 age group and the girl was probably 4 - 5 years old. D has a liking for older kids, I think most kids of her age do. She is constantly watching these kids and simulating them. As soon as these siblings were done with the monkey bars, she ran towards them. I am sitting right behind her feeding Dlittle some yogurt. In just about a minute, the siblings come right back to the monkey bars, the boy on one side, the girl on the other and squeeze D from both ends. This is one of those small monkey bars for younger kids. About 2 feet long and 4 feet high. I am glancing, tempted to walk up there to lecture. The kids parents are watching too, but did not utter a single word. D wiggles this side and that side for few seconds and walks towards me with a frown. I am furious by now. More than those kids, at their parents and at D.
I sat her down, stopped feeding Dlittle and had a chat. I told her that next time someone barges into you like this, you tell them politely - I am not done yet. Please wait for your turn. I told it loud enough for the kids and their parents to hear me. It is so unlike me, only I know how much guts I had to gather. To speak out loud enough, to be audible to the parents and the sibling. But, I had to do it. I don’t believe in teaching my kids anything, that I am not willing to do/learn myself. D replies - Mumma, but that bhaiyya is too big and he was pushing me harder. He is a bad boy. She had a point. There isn’t much you can do when a 7 year old and a 4 year old are pushing you from both ends. After some thought I told her, You are right that he is a big boy. But, if you had told them it’s your turn, they might have walked out. You did not even talk. Tell politely once. If they don’t go away, look into their eyes and tell a little louder. If they still push you after that, you walk out. Deal?. Yes Mumma, she says in a pretty stern voice, making me all proud. I could feel from her voice and her gesture that she felt powerful. As though she knew what she had to do the next time. All this while, the siblings are still playing and parents are happily cheering them as though nothing had happened.


I am not complaining. This is real world. We can mold ourselves to the best we believe in, but we cannot expect everyone around us to do the same. To be nice. Nice and humble are very relative terms, it depends on one’s threshold, I would think. Anyways, won’t digress. My kids need to learn to deal with different kinds of people around. We cannot alway provide them with a protective sphere to live in. Letting them deal with situations like these by themselves with a little help boosts their self confidence. I will wait and watch what she does the next time around..

says my blog!!

I upgraded to the latest version of wordpress, as I have been eyeing on some plugins that work only with the latest version. The template I had does not work with the new version. Also, all the customizations[err.. experimentations] are throwing fatal errors left, right and center.

Not that you can’t do without my blog for few days, but I thought I should write and use this opportunity to add ONE more post to my belt. Ha!

PS: To all who inquired about D’s health, she is perfectly fine now. Passed on the bug to my blog and happily went to school. Poor joke, huh! But, I’ll take this any day..

Edited to add:
Spent few minutes, could not fix the old template. Bear with this template till I get a breather and a mood to dirty my hands and dive into the code to fix the old template.

And, that advertisement is NOT mine!! Came with the template.

I was shocked to learn that 30ml of Zofran [vomit medicine] costs 110$. Thankfully, I have medical insurance and it cost me $10 as copay, but it makes me wonder about those who cannot afford medical insurance, or the one’s with minimalistic insurance. Their 3 year old is different from mine? Those 3 year old’s should just vomit till the bug finds it’s way out naturally?


In this presidential campaign, there are a lot of talks around affordability, cutting taxes, filling consumers pockets with more money which they would then use to buy insurance. What about regulating the drug prices in the first place? Or allow drugs to be purchased from outside the country. Having worked for the e-commerce division of a pretty well known pharma company, I know the outrageous margins on these drugs. Agreed, these companies are running a business, not a charity. They have a right to monetize their years of research and operating costs. And make profit. They usually have a 2 - 3 year period before the generic is released and that is their window to monetize. But, what after that? A little googling shows that this drug was first introduced in 1984. Almost 25 years back. And to date it costs an exorbitant 110$? Beats me!

I should probably send in a query to Jack Cafferty from the CNN news room to ask the presidential candidates what they would do about this. But, with my limited not-up-to-date political knowledge, who knows they might have talked about it. One and only one reason I am pro Obama is because he does not carry the burden of knowing how Washington works. He is young and hopefully bring in the changes this country needs.


I am not all for medicine, I don’t give one unless absolutely needed. D vomited more than 5 times in less than 2 hours. She could not even keep water down and the last one had liver bile. A little more than a year back the exact same thing happened and after the bile vomit, she started puking blood stained biles. Knowing the time it takes to see a doctor even in the ER, I wasn’t going to wait this time around. Her doctor was available to see her and sure enough she prescribed the medicine. But, we never got a chance to use it, as she slept on our way back home for more than 3 hours and was just fine when she woke up.

This morning I was going to check the expiry date on the bottle before throwing it out. My eyes popped out when I saw the price. I am almost tempted to gulp the medicine instead of trashing it.

Reminds me of the shocker I felt when I got to read the paper work from D’s delivery. Sure, I had an emergency C. Baby was suspected meningitis at birth and was held in special care for 6 days. Thankfully, the results were negative. At that time, we paid some 400$ copay, 100$ per day of hospital stay. The paperwork they sent us later showed the bill to be 78,000$. SEVENTY EIGHT THOUSAND DOLLARS!!!! Now, is that some money or what??


We are self employed, which means we are even more messed up. For one, not many are willing to cover us. Two, if they do, they will cover at the most 70%. OR we get insured with a HMO and be stuck with limited options. We chose a HMO insurance and a hospital which is partially funded by the government. This was the only one to cover us close to 100%. HMO’s are also supposed to have lower premium. Sure, we are paying just 1100$ for the 4 of us. With a copay of 25$ for a doctor visit, 10$ for a lab test. Many illness are not even covered.

Which brings me to my cleaning lady. She called in sick a few weeks back. When she did make it, she did not look very well. A little pondering, she says her insurance won’t cover her surgery as this is a pre existing condition. So, she is proscrastinating her doc visit. I did a little math. I pay her[2 of them come] 60$ a visit, twice a month. Multiply by 50 houses at the most. Dividing amongst the 2 ladies, they take home 3000$ a month. This is the best case scenario. She jokingly said, I can own a car, but I cannot afford medical insurance. I don’t have that kind of money to pay for her surgery, but one thing is fir sure. I will not bargain with any of the blue collar workers going forward. I had bargained from 65 to a 60$ when I hired her. I am not going to be able to build a mansion with 10 extra dollars a month. But, she might be able to get pain killers to ease her pain a little bit.

D has been down with a stomach flu all weekend. A low-grade fever accompanied by vomiting all Friday, not able to keep even water down. She was back to her usual hyper-ness on Saturday. Today morning, we were all set to pack her off to school, when she complains of stomach ache again. Obvious enough, we decide to keep her home.

She does not like it a bit and the conversation with her papa goes thus:

D: I want to go to school. I want to go to school. School. School..
Papa: beta, tummy is hurting na? Take rest today. You can do painting, you can do your cutting project..
D: I will do big potty. Then tummy won’t hurt.
Mumma: There are some germs inside tummy. It will come out only if you take rest.
D: From long long time ago, I did not ever go to school.
[Right! Friday, her long long time ago, she was restrained from going as she had vomited only 5 times in 2 hours.]
D: Mumma, you talk to doctor Aunty. Then, she will tell you to give me red medicine[Tylenol, that is]. Then, my tummy won’t hurt anymore. And then I can go to school. Please mumma.
[Mumma is already on the phone talking to the advice nurse if it is okay to give tylenol for tummy ache.]
Papa: Listen, D. I will come back from office early today evening. We can go to the Library Or Barnes and Nobles. okay?
D: Thanks for saying that to me, papa. Thanks for taking care of me.

Papa was then found on the floor…

A week to appreciate teacher’s, a day to appreciate mother’s, a blog that says I am nice, another says I am lovable. Appreciate it.

But first, I got to tell dotThoughts, she is worth not $53,585 but a whopping $158,071.20. Yes, all of 6 figures. So says Dane Carlson. I know, I know, if you enter the blog url, it says the worth to be $19,758.90. Assuming one spends an average of one hour blogging a day. Knowing 8 hours make a full working day, It then equates to $158,071.20? So, DotThoughts, give yourself a pat and enjoy your birthday.
And three cheers all mommy blogger’s, next time someone says you are vetti or jobless, please do give them your blog url and ask them to pay a visit here.

[ Cent percent pun intended!! The API is solely based on linking[not who you link to, but who links to your blog], google indexing and how often you update your blog. So, the number it spits is not proportional to the famous quo. Some dude got bored over the weekend and wrote it, me thinks. ]

*****

I had no clue this one week in a calendar year is dedicated to teacher’s appreciation, the week of May 4th - May 10th. Until I saw the monthly news letter from D’s school. We made a nice hand written card with this quote on it.
Teachers are one of the most influential adults in one’s life. A good teacher is a blessing to have. So, heres a toast to all you teachers out there.

*****
Mother’s day, hype or not I don’t know. But I know one thing for sure. I ain’t moving that day. The husband likes it or not, this one day, he is getting hot piping chai right to my bed. Taking care of kids and treating me to a luxurious lunch. While a bunch of us girls are going to watch a movie and buy some stuff for ourselves.

*****

On a more serious note, I stumbled upon Indira Nooyi’s article. Her appreciation for her father’s one piece of advice.

If you take away that anger and assume positive intent, you will be amazed. Your emotional quotient goes up because you are no longer almost random in your response. You don’t get defensive. You don’t scream. You are trying to understand and listen because at your basic core you are saying, “Maybe they are saying something to me that I’m not hearing.” So “assume positive intent” has been a huge piece of advice for me.

*****

And since we are on the topic of appreciation, it’s very nice of ~nm to say I am nice. And I am flattered by Swati’s thought that I am a lovable person. Thank you both.

To follow the rule of passing it along, I am passing it to all who visit me regularly. You got to be nice, just for the gesture of taking a moment and acknowledging you were here. Much appreciated!

*****

Lets take a minute and pray for all those who lost their lives and loved ones in Myanmar. And appreciate everything we have, day to day things like food, shelter and life that we take for granted.

!! Have a nice weekend !!

*****

Many a times, the 8th of the month would pass by without the crossing thought that Dlittle just got older by another month. But, ever since the first of this month, it has shadowed my mind. My little daughter is going to be a year old in a month, soon to be toddler.

Both my kids have brought so much joy in our lives, I don’t have words to express. The balance they bring in this ever-stressful life, the sanity they help maintain, the kindness they provoke, the differences they make us reconcile. They are the closest one can get to God, in the very true sense.

Dlittle and D are temperamentally very different. D is bubbly she amazes me with her energy and she has got the cutest smile. She is not the cuddling types, she is more of the thinker type, taken after her fathers genes. How many times I have bribed her with one thing or the other just to get a kiss, just for a hug. My littlest one however, is the utterly cuddly type. Sometimes she would come close by, lick my face, push her head into my lap and just lie there for few seconds. She would then get up and walk, do something else and then come right back. For once I realise the emotions animals portray by that very act. This little one, would wake up in the night, sit up, look at me, smile and fall on my belly. Cling to me, wrap her hands around and continue to sleep.

D is not the cuddly and expressive type, but when she does, she tosses my heart for a spin. I was around 24 weeks pregnant with Dlittle. We had gone to The Disney on Ice theater show. It was dark by the time the show got over and the road towards the parking lot had been detoured to manage the crowd. One of the detour sign had a protruding rod, which was not visible in the fast moving crowd. And I tripped over it. My stomach down. I could not register what had happened, for couple of minutes unable to get any meaningful word out of my mouth. I remember blabbering, naturally the only thought in my mind was the baby. The husband visibly mad. In all this commotion, I did not notice that my 2 year old then, had been watching unable to express her emotions. After a little while when I was back to senses, I realised that I had shielded my belly with my hands, had bruises all over my palm, but the belly did not touch the ground. We decided to go to the emergency anyways to be sure. Well, we buckled up in the car. This little darling of mine, who seemed contained all along, burst into tears and started shivering. One and only one thing she kept repeating. Crying and talking constantly without a breather. Mummy, are you ok? No cry mummy, please come and sit with me. Hand pakko[Hold my hands]. We pulled over the very next parking lot, me and her hugged each other, both weeping like there is no tomorrow. This moment though scary was precious. This kind of love can only be felt, not expressed.

When the two sisters don’t see each others for few hours, they yearn for each other. The expression they show when they wake up in the morning OR when I go to pick D up from the school is priceless. Dlittle would pat her older one and squeal at the first sight and D would not get tired telling her friends over and over again, Hey, this is my sister. Come, come, see her. You know, she does this. She does that. She knows to walk. The love don’t last long, within few hours they are on top of each other fighting for the same pen or paper. But somehow, when the music is turned on, lights are dimmed, we are wrapping up for the day, they get their calm back. They cuddle, they kiss, they say good night. The next morning, first thing younger one does is to look at the door looking out for her sister. The first thing the older one does is to hug and kiss her little one, ask her if she had a good sleep, even if she is at the verge of wetting her pants. And that gives me the hope, that though they will be of very different personalities, though they will compete, though they will fight over petty things, though they will choose different paths, though they will physically far apart, they will be there for each others, they will long for each others, long after I am gone.

Who other than my 3 year old would claim that title? I am not gloating when I say this, let’s just say I have come to terms with her obsession towards pink and princess. With the hope that it’s a passing phase and there is light at the end of the tunnel.


The day before yesterday, we had stopped at the traffic light waiting for the green signal. There was a truck in front of us carrying shovels, buckets, rakes and such kinds. Seemed like the shovel was not fastened to anything, and I spoke out loud what a disaster it would be if that shovel would fall out while the truck was moving at high speed.
Which triggered this conversation :

D: Mumma, why are you scolding that truck uncle?
Me: hmm.. Not scolding betu, I was just saying that uncle needs to tie the shovel to the truck, otherwise it can fall out of the truck and hurt someone.
D: Oh. Why that uncle has lot of shovel’s in his truck?
Me: Maybe he is a gardener.
D: Gar-de-ner?
Me: Gardener is one who keeps the garden clean, plants flowers, mowe’s the lawn…
D: I want to be a gardener.
Me: That’s very nice. Hey, we could get some plants in the evening?
D: No. Maybe I want to be princess.

Ah! There it comes again! Not once has she defaulted on wanting to be a princess when she grows up. Many a times, I have attempted to probe her further as to what intrigues her. More than her fascination towards anything pink and princess, her reasoning behind the likeness is what gives me chills. Pretty dress, Pretty crown, PRETTY hair and P.R.E.T.T.Y? necklace!!

D is one of those kids who won’t accept anything for an answer and would in fact get frustrated if not convinced. The other day she asked me to slide with her in the park. I told her this park play structure is for kids. To which, she asks where it says so. Matter of fact I read aloud the wordings on the board, 5 To 12 years only! Thankfully, there were kid like stencils next the message. Am not sure she understood I am older than a 12 year old, but the kid’s drawing’s convinced her anyways. She justifies to herself saying, Mommy cannot slide because mommy is too heavy and the slide will break.

Coming back to the conversation we were having, UTBT’s post on princess flashed and I thought I had something to say. You know, this blog addiction does serve some purpose after all.


I continue, D, the princess you see in these books are pretend princess. Like the red uncle in The Incredibles story. Like Boo and the Monster. She says Oh! And I continue.
D, long long time ago there used to be kings and queens and princess. Not like pretend disneyland princess. But real Aunty’s and Uncle’s like mumma and paapa. There was this one Aunty, Jhaansi Rani Lakshmi Bai, who fought… She cuts me off and says I don’t like Raani, yucky Raani.
It wasn’t the right time for the introduction, I guessed. However, that does not imply I give up easily. I continue. The disney pretend princess are in books and TV only, D. [Thanking God we don't live in the UK]. Now-a-days, we have President’s and Prime Minister’s. You remember, mummy told you about Bush Uncle and Manmohan Singh Uncle? The president of America and the prime minister of India? You could become the President when you grow up? Right?
She sure did not like it a bit and gives a very clear and definitive answer. No, that’s not funny. I don’t want to be president. I don’t like George Bush, I don’t like Manmohan Singh. I want to be princess only. P.R.E.T.T.Y P.I.N.K Princess.

She frowns and goes silent for few minutes and then comes up with a brilliant answer to meet both ends.
Mumma, I can be Kanpur princess, but. Yes mumma? Right?

Seeing the tension on her little innocent face, I did give up at this point. Though this is something I will definitely bring back in due course of time.


Coming to the more concerning pretty part, I think it is more than a necessity to FEEL pretty and beautiful. It changes the body language, the confidence with which you carry yourself and boosts self esteem. The trick is to persuade a three year old that she is pretty and beautiful, irrespective of skin color, no matter what she is wearing and how her hair is done. To intelligently put forward the fine line between feeling pretty and looking pretty. Not just with herself, but also with others around. To respect others for what they are, just the way they are. In many cases, with confidence, also comes arrogance. I would be one very sad mother if I raised an arrogant child. I don’t want her to be all saintly, but not over confident to the extent of carrying the burden of arrogance with it. Not to digress.

Reminds me of this book - The Ugly Pumpkin we read long back. This book is about a pumpkin that keeps thinking his ugliness is the cause for not being picked up, finally realises he is a gourd and not a pumpkin. And that he wasn’t really ugly, he just did not fit in to the pumpkin’s specification.

Is April the best month yet? A jam packed month with so many interesting happenings. The month started with the inception of the mega online shower. Followed by a successful launch of our company’s social networking site. Just while I was soaking in the success of the shower and a decently successful launch, I come to find Hrithik Roshan is my distant relative. So what if it was just a dream?? If Hillary Clinton can be the ninth cousin to Angelina Jolie, why can’t I be related to Hrithik? I am not even crossing ethnic borders here. Read on…

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Much has been written on this mega event a bunch of us woman bloggers hosted for the preggies. Its good to be late sometimes as all I got to do now is to link up.

Linking a few that I have read so far, will update as I read… Tharini’s version, Kodi’s mom’s version, Boo’s version, Gauri’s version, Dotmom’s version, Poppin’s mom’s version.

It felt like being in college again. We all contributed in some form or the other. However I must give special credit to Tharini, Gauri and Altoid for the flawless execution and round the clock support. And mayG for the site design. We all contributed, some riddling away to glory, some of us creating a book summarizing the event, while some entertained the rest with their sense of humor. Close to 3000 emails, numerous chat sessions, the excitement, the chaos, the fun, witty talks and lot more. What a perfect bunch we were!

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The last couple of months have been crazy at the work front. A project I took upon myself, in spite of numerous warnings from the LH that it could be physically and mentally draining. This is something I had been eying for some time now. But with two young kids and my adhoc time availability, I wasn’t sure I could take it to a logical completion. Have I mentioned before I don’t like to sleep over an unfinished task? I procrastinate the start to the extent of making them obsolete, for the fear of not being able to complete it, even if it is as simple a chore as folding laundry.
Where there’ s a will, there’s a way. I so wanted to do this, that I adjusted a few things, cut down on many many things. Yes, sleep and blogging included. Kind of got obsessed after a while. It’s an ongoing project, still not there, where I would like it to be, but taking into consideration the resource and time constraints, I am very happy with the outcome so far. This is my first real launch, something I conceived and delivered, from scratch. I have just finished the first 100 meters in the race, its still a long road to reach the finish line of the marathon. A good start is half the race run, is how I like to look at it And the joy to see your own creation, be it anything, is immense and worth every sweat.

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That Friday, while we were making headline news in the blog world, I also had a friend and her family over at my place for dinner. One of the many conversations we had lead to the studly Hrithik Roshan. I was asking her to watch his version of Krazzy 4 song. And she replies she wants to retain his Jodha Akbhar image. The conversation that barely crossed 2 minutes was enough to enter my sub conscious mind, I think.

The next afternoon, I slept alongside the girls. I don’t or rather can’t sleep in the afternoons, but when I sleep, I can give Kumbhakaran a run for his life. Well, we are having a family meet. Some 4 families I think. Hrithik Roshan is also there with his wife Suzanne, though Suzanne and the LH are nowhere to be seen. I tell Hrithik that my friends don’t believe he is our family friend and a distant relative. He gives a sheepish smile and asks Why? Then, completely out of context I tell him there is a very nice restaurant few miles from here that serves lip licking 5 course meals. He replies - Any place that charges more than 10$ a meal, he won’t go. Period. Some people are not cut out to brag, why don’t I get it? Even if it is a dream. Two days later the pictures from the family meeting are on his web site. So much for blogging anonymous. Go figure!!

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Dlittle is now running all over the house threatening us to climb onto anything and everything she can find and D wrote A to Z in a piece of paper all by herself. These deserve a post of their own, the next one that is.
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