September 2007:

February 2010:

• We have become a Bangalorean. Almost. We own a nebulizer, a hot water bag, a steamer, a vial of asthalin. We started the kids on homeopathy. I can understand a teeny bit of Kannada and speak butler Kannada aka Hindi /English /Tamil suffixed with a maadi. Like bargaining – Yestu.. Yenu so much.. 50 Rs finish maadi okay a.
• This has been a lousy year as far as health goes. We emerged out of it just fine. After the fact, I do realize that it could have been worse, much much worse. We are grateful and lucky that way. 2009 has also been one of the happiest and stress free years. Contradictory statements. That’s life.
• D can read and write, phonetically correct. She can do basic math, loves solving crosswords, her imagination and curiosity reaching new heights. The confidence also brings in attitude – The I know it all – kinds. Both are needed, we just need to draw and abide by the fine balance line. She has also become pretty aggressive over the last few months. Survival tactics, I suppose. Should I gloat or sulk? I am torn.
• Dlittle started speaking sentences. I have long lost my chatterbox title to my older one. But the new one in the making is leading to fierce competition between the girls. The father has started staying late in the office and demands a cup of coffee as soon as he enters the house. Guess it’s his way of preparing for estrogen loaded speech bombardment.
  She loves books. “Loves” is an understatement. There are times when she has woken up at 2 in the night and cried – Wead mumma, book wead. We can’t pronounce “r” yet. “w” with a tongue twist has been substituted for “r”. Cuteness personified, I tell ya.
  She is our Calvin in the making.
• I am learning the art of letting go and let them be. The process is painful, the outcome is serene. Learning to look beyond politics and grudges. Life is too short.
  It comes and goes in phases. Extreme swings from wanting to strangle your neck to let go with a smile. Constant conscious practice should soon convert this into a habit.
  I have become much more tolerant and patient. ( I need to throw some white erase paint over this line, in case the husband reads ).
• Social life pendulum, both online and offline has come to a stand still. New place, new people, zero effort on taking the initiative. Just needs a little prop for the oscillation to start. Except for one apartment acquaintance who has become more than a friend. And some bloggie pals, who have been very very helpful. Thankyou Chox, Poppy, CofS and Aargee.
  Yaadayaada visited us this summer. We were yapping through the night, catching up on Bay area news. She has to be my lost twin. We just seem to connect at multiple levels.
  Friendship deserves a separate post.
• The husband says he is falling in love all over again. With me, who else! Says the critic – I am a caring human being and a good mother. It appears that he is not aware of the bazillion neck strangling sessions. I am not complaining. This should make this the bestest year ever!
• 2009 has also given spiritual enlightenment a whole new dimension. More later.
  Plan is to close this year with a prayer, finish reading Three Cups Of Tea and start the new year watching 3 idiots and indulge in family fun

This also happens to by my 100th post. Have managed to reach this milestone at a time when the readership is at it’s all time low(One needs to write for others to read. Yup, I know). That should stop me from celebrating? Did I mention, I have also adopted positive outlook and hell bent on finding the light at the end of the tunnel?

A toast to the good life. A toast to the 100th. A toast to the day that is left before we call this a year. A toast to welcome 2010.

!! Happy Holidays Folks !!

It makes me wonder if it is typical of a 4-6 year old, to show interest in topics related to life, death and spirituality. I have read at least 5 blogs related to this topic in the past month, all of them having kids in this age group. The email newsletter from babycenter few weeks back has this highlighted. It does make me feel better to affirm D is not talking nonsense for her age. But no matter how I try to explain, it paves way to a million unanswered questions. To her, to me.

D was little over 3 years and Dlittle was just old enough to sit on the high chair, when we unintentionally got into the culture of dinner time talks. One of the reason was to get D interested in eating by herself. She definitely showed more interest in eating, when that was not just another chore to complete, but a family time, where we all ate together with a lot of chit chat, laughter and silly talks. Now, the kids look forward to this time, and are stepping on each others shoes to tell how their day went. Good, bad and ugly. Even Dlittle with her limited vocabulary pitches in.

Getting back to the context of this post, couple of months back, one evening we had assembled at the dinner table as usual and D suddenly asks -

Mumma, you know M’s daadi is dead.
I was a little shocked to hear that word explicitly from her.
hmm.. okay..
Why did she die, mumma?
Not sure beta. She must have been very old.

Conversation was on hold, while the little one’s mind was churning with thoughts. I could see her lost in her thought and was expecting the next series of questions, but nothing close to what she ended up asking.

Mumma, you will also die when you get old?
hmm.. yes..
She starts crying her heart out. No, you can’t die. You are my mother. You have to take care of us. Dlittle cannot even eat by herself.
At this point, I was overwhelmed as there was no pretext to this topic whatsoever.

Tried telling her that she is not old enough to understand all this. We can talk about this when she is 10 years old. Obviously, of no vain. Ended up telling her as a matter of fact, we all will die one day. Mumma, paapa, everyone. When we get very very very old. Super old. By that time, you will be a naani yourself and will have your own daughters and sons and they might even have their own kids. That much old. And you wont need mumma to take care of you, you will be taking care of your kids instead.
I don’t want boys. Only girls.
ok. Point noted for future discussions.
I so prayed this discussion would end here. But no.

Over the next few days, this had been the hot topic of discussion, no matter how hard I tried to deviate from it. Multiple versions of the question and answers.
But, why we all have to die?
That’s how God has created us beta. There is only so many people earth can hold right. So for a new baby to come into the world, old people have to die, go back to God and come back as a baby. Also, when we get old, our bones break, we cannot walk properly, we cannot see properly. Then we get tired of old age and tell God. God thank you for giving us such a wonderful life. And smart cute daughters. Now, they are old enough to take care of themselves and I am ready to die. Please make me a baby again.

She seemed convinced with the answer for the moment. Ironically, this was about the same time when my father fell down and broke his hip bone. Had to go through a replacement surgery and was bed ridden.

D’s questionnaire got active again.
Mumma, we will have naana in our house for some days. Then can you please ask him to go somewhere else?
I was shocked to hear that and after repeated futile talks that it was not right to say like that, said pretty sternly – He is my father, just like the LH being your father. Would you like your father to go away somewhere else?
Poor thing started sobbing and said – I just don’t want him to die in our house. I will be very scared and that’s why I want him to go out.
I did not know how to handle the situation, I asked her what made her think naana is going to die?

Old age – bedridden – not able to walk – broken bone. Ah ha!!

I tried to explain her that we don’t get to choose when we want to die. God chooses that for us. Mumma is always there with her and nothing will happen.

Don’t know if simplifying death as die-tobe-reborn as a baby- was any better. For it definitely led to this conversation.

Don’t do that D, Dlittle will get hurt.
She will die?
No beta. But she can get really really hurt.. Like blood coming out, going to the doctor for shots.
Let her die mumma, then she will come back as a baby. She is very cute as a baby, I want her as a baby.
Telling her coming back-as-a-baby is not in to our own house, some other house we wouldn’t know and we will never ever be able to see her again. We will never get to play with her, hold her. Would you want that.
Honestly, I had my foot in my mouth dreading a YES!
No, no. I will take care of her gave me peace of mind for the moment.

When I chose the title of the post, the intention was to write on the enlightenment felt on staying fit, eating right for old age, something I feel we owe to our kids. But, looking the length of the post, I should do that another time.

The birds and the bees is another topic of interest these days. God, spirituality is another. Will pen this also another day, for now leaving you’ll with some of D’s dialogues –

God does not have a house, thats why he is everywhere?

God is everywhere, so if this wall breaks, he will jump from there?

D, be nice to papa, beta. He works hard so that we can make enough money to eat yummy food na? No, mumma, papa does not give us food. God gives us food and toys.

Why papa did not grow me and Dlittle in his tummy? Because he does not have guggu baata to feed us?

10 years of marriage, 11.5 years of togetherness, 1 failed production, 2 successful productions. Pretty good. What say?


There has been many ups and downs in the journey so far. Still, at the end of 10 years, it makes the journey worth while.. wanting more of the same..

When the sight of each other at the end of a long day brings an instant smile on our faces..

When we both look at our happily sleeping kids and unconsciously hold hands to enjoy that moment..

When he steps into the elevator, I ask him how these 10 years have been, and he comes back to give us a hug..

When a day is all we can go without talking to each other..

When, even at this age, we can land our head on the other’s shoulder and break down like babies at any emotionally disturbing juncture..


In spite of the zillion differences between us, something somewhere must be going just right. Here’s to many many more years of togetherness. Happy 10th to US.

I wrote that one post on come back and went AWOL again. This time however, it wasn’t intentional. So much I want to pen down, yet I have been racking my brain this past hour on what to write first. Jump starting with the latest happening.

One more tick in the milestone chart. Dlittle is potty trained, almost. It wasn’t planned and there is nothing I did. It just happened.

Read it at your own risk. This one is going to be all about pee and poop. Not to complain of grossness after reading it.

About a fortnight back, I slid my hand into the drawer at the dark corner of the room, where I had stocked the huge lot of diapers shipped from the US. I knew there were only a handful left and it was on my list to refill them in the next visit to the store. I was in no hurry to potty train the second time around. Not with 3 kids and no school.(My nephew is here to stay with us and study, a very very sweet 13 year old. Will do a post on this soon). So, the handful that were left were all newborns, the LH bought these at the time we had run out of diapers and were waiting for our shipment to arrive. Dlittle was 16 or 17 months then. Apparently he had no clue how much she weighed. But the label – newborn? I don’t buy that weight logic. Anyways.

It was morning time, the littlest one was done with the big one, so postponed the diaper purchase for later that day and let her loose with 3 chaddi’s stacked one over the other. Was mentally prepared to let her pee in her pants, making sure I had stock of Dettol . Now, I must mention she is not talking a lot. Yet. Except for a lot of absolutely adorable gibberish and few matlabi words like kokos for chocolate, atto mumma aka hato mumma(Please move aside lady!), ti ti ne maala aka didi ne maara(Didi hit me), barney lola(Barney I love you song). An hour into being without diaper, she is running around the living room yelling tu tu. This tu tu is a synonym for a few words. Tu tu equals du-du(milk) early morning and after the nap. Tu tu with a drag at the end refers to shoes. That she is ready to head out.

I dismissed it thinking she must be wanting to go to the park. When the rut wouldn’t stop and I tried putting the shoes to calm her down, she started screaming at the sight of shoes with a big nuuuuu. Wasn’t milk time either.

The frequency of tu tu increased to once in 2-3 minutes. And then she suffixed something to it. aaliya.. tu tu aaliya.. The tube light in my head finally lit when she held my hands and dragged me to the restroom. tu tu aaliya == su su aa raha hai. She held her tu tu for a good half hour. I was pretty amazed. The poor thing did it even before I could position her rightfully on the pot. I guess I was so excited after all this, that I was running all over the living room screaming – Dlittle ne tu tu kiya, Dlittle ne tu tu kiya. The little one realized she has done something noteworthy, so after the next few visits, she would go to every member of the house individually and say – ti ti, tu tu aaliya. Papa – tu tu aaliya.

Now the part where I am still struggling. Since then, she has been on diapers for the night time only. The day after she self trained herself, when it was time for the big one, she dragged me to the restroom. Made me sit her and jumped out within 10 seconds. Crying.. No tu tu. No tu tu. No KOKO tu tu. (Koko tu tu aka chocolate su su aka potty. Took me a while to interpret ). After few attempts she finally pooped and then bawled like there is no tomorrow. She seems to be terrified by that thingee falling into the pot. As though she looses some precious thing from her body. It has been more than 2 weeks, this part is still a struggle. It takes at least 10 – 15 ten second trips to the restroom before she finally lets go. This has also made her constipated as she is trying to hold as far as she can. And she refuses to wear a diaper. Even in the night time, I have to sneak it in while she is asleep. Hopefully it is a matter of days.

And now, the latest news in brief. Missed out on Bangalore mom’s baby shower cum Bangalore Blogger’s meet this Friday. I had the choice to attend the shower and then visit the closest police station as yesterday was our last day of legal stay here. Or to sort out the visa issues which the Delhi waalas royally ditched us and then fixed it towards the end of the day. Whatever fun came out of rising our blood pressures. Anyhoo, all good now. But it cost me the opportunity to meet the bloggers. There is always a next time.
For now, Congrats Bangalore Mom. Here’s wishing you a very safe and super speedy delivery.

Hello, this is Dlittle sending out quarterly updates. I self proclaim myself as the charm of this blog. Apparently, mummy hasn’t been able to update the blog for a while, blames it on her self set crazy work schedule. She has also been hiding her laptop from me after I showed my interest in it. Didi is home on a spring break this week, keeping mummy on her toes. I ought to grab this opportunity and so, here I go.

I can walk!! For the first time yesterday evening, April 14th 2008, I took three steps in a row. I don’t really fall down after the third step, but for some strange reason I sit down and start crawling. Most of today was spent practising the 3 step walk. Its exhilarating to try something new, more thrilling to watch the look on my parents and sisters face.

* * * * * * * * * *

I love my didi. She’s the best, especially when she wakes up in the morning, runs to my room, snuggles into me and mummy and showers kisses on us. Or when she greets me and never gets tired of talking about me to her friends when me and mummy go to pick her up from school. This one day I bumped my head on the wall while trying to walk with a finger support on the wall. It hurt and so I cried. When I did not stop in couple of minutes, my didi started crying as well. Mummy hugged both of us, when we all calmed down a bit, mummy asked her what made her cry. She said – ‘My sister got hurt, that’s why I was crying‘. Is there anything more I can ask for?
That’s not the complete picture, we do have our moments[a lot these days, after I have shown my independence by going mobile] of fist fighting and the like. That’s the way we keep ourselves entertained, is what I would like to think.

* * * * * * * * * *

Shortly after the last update mummy wrote, she gave up on cereals and got me started with daal, rice and veggies. Pressure cooked and mashed with a pinch of salt and ghee. It tastes good, it’s healthy, but it’s causing constipation, which was and still is her primary concern for not starting earlier. Adding a few palak leaves to the food does ease the constipation, every now and then I am force fed prune juice, which also helps. This combined with my super quick nursing time leads to the worry of me not getting enough milk. I don’t like the taste and sight of formula either. Couple of more months, then I can get started with whole milk.

* * * * * * * * * *

Mummy and papa make fun of me that I was possibly a motorbike racer or a dancer in previous life. I have this chair that sings when I sit on it. I figured this out, so I press it, then stand up and do my twist. Both the hands in the air at shoulder level with hand movement like I am accelerating a motorbike. Another twist that gets my parents hysterical is when I stand up, shake my bum and head at the same time. Whenever I do these twists, didi, mummy and papa go ga-ga over it. I get the needed attention and the cycle continues.

* * * * * * * * * *

It seems I am starting to show character. Stubborn it seems, a mind of my own. Impatient, it seems. Will eat if I want to. Point to be noted is the person stating this – my mom. The genes I have taken after. The mumbo jumbo tricks might get me to open my mouth, but you can’t force me to swallow, can you? I eat well, I really do. But only the foods I like. I don’t have a sweet tooth. While that’s supposedly a good thing, the same taste buds make me not wanting to eat fruits. I am trying to acquire the taste. Applesauce is not for me, but small bits of apples and cantaloupe I like.

* * * * * * * * * *
Just for the records, my 9th month weight is in the 25th percentile and height is in the 45th percentile. I kept my promise to stay slim and trim. sigh!!

Love,
Dlittle@10 months

First of all, 3rd day in a row, Dlittle ate without crying. In a record time of 1 hour and 10 minutes. Yipee!!! I see hope! [Lifting the Anti-jinx logo from Dotmom's.. Thanks DM]


Moving on to the milestone(s)…

The much awaited pearly[borrowing the term from squiggles mom] is here. Yes, just one, the top left. Though it has been playing hide and seek for a while, the official date of its visible presence is declared as the 31st of January. This one pearly is about 3 mm long already and the other adjacent to it shows no signs of emerging any time soon. I just hope one of the 2 lower jaw pearls don’t show up before the second on the upper jaw !!!

The second milestone… She can sit up comfortably all by herself and move anywhere she wants in few seconds. She is still not crawling, but rolls to the point of interest, sits up and gets to business. Business as of now is to taste as many things as she can. The more colorful the object, the better the taste? No wait, the more electronic the object the better it tastes. Yes, iphone, the blackberry with the twinkling light tastes the best I think, remote comes pretty close.

She hit the third milestone yesterday. For the longest time.. ok not really, but this past week she has been trying to stand up by holding on to objects to get that extra push. She did it yesterday. Sitting on the carpet by the couch, she held on to it strongly, kept trying to prop herself up. In about a minute, she stood up. The expression on her face was priceless. She squealed louder than ever on her accomplishment and this newly discovered height is giving her ideas.

The newest fascination? See for yourself. Happened sometime mid January when I went into the kitchen for less than a minute to fetch water. Whats up with kids and remote/phone/wires/laptop? They seem to be born new age compatible.

I am 7 months old!! Yayyyyyy! To top it, I spoke my first word ever… pa.. pa.. vaa.. paa.. Mumma interprets it as va.. va.. while papa interprets it as pa.. pa.. Obvious, isn’t it. I am liking this game

Since my 4 month update, there are a few developments from my side. First, I can sit with some help. I love to sit. I do need a little bit of back support, I can assure you it’s only a matter of time.

I can move… I rolled over few months back. But that wasn’t spontaneous. That was mostly when I attempted to do something else.. Now I can roll over whenever I want to. In few seconds. First, prop myself up, kinda in a sitting position and hold my feet with my hands. Wobble a little, rest is the game of gravity. Not only can I roll over, now I can also move to reach objects of my interest. For example, if there is a striking red and white book lying nearby, I first roll over, then put my head on the flat surface and raise my bum. My feet moves a little further, now when I put my bum down and head up, I have moved a little. I know, I know, it sounds complicated, but really you gotta try it couple of times, it’s no big deal.
I hear mumma and papa say the word crawling every so often, though I am not sure what that is all about.

What else? Oh, I can scream… Scream so loud that every one around makes their presence felt right away. I so love it. I have tried it few times deliberately and it works every single time! really. A 1 minute scream can do wonders. You gotta trust me on this one.

Food… One thing I am not liking is that white stuff my mommy stuffs into me every day. What I don’t get is their plates seem to have loads of colorful and flavorful food. Not sure why I can’t eat `em. They say I don’t have something called teeth and I apparently can’t chew. I overheard mumma talking to naani and my wise Naani reminded her there is something in the kitchen called a blender which can convert adult style food into baby style food. They had a long discussion and have decided to start me on daal chawal when I turn 8 months. It seems once I get to know the taste of salt and sugar, I would not eat bland food. Lets see. My mom did try to give me idli once, na.. white stuff again! I need color!! No one better than my papa understands my need. Mumma is way to worry-me types, oh, one new food every 7 days. Wait and watch for rashes, check her poop and what not. She needs to ease a bit. Anyways, was I saying my papa is the best? The other day we were having a family dinner at our favorite Fresh choice, when papa understood my silent moves and quietly thrust a piece of the golden colored cantaloupe in my hand. Boy! I had a blast. By the time mumma realised, I gulped a teeny bit of it. he he… Oh, and the famous parle-G, my sisters favorite, thats so yum. One day I grabbed it myself from my sisters snack plate. While everyone was busy talking, I gulped one half of it. Yummmm… Seeing the excitement I showed, I am offered that once in a while. Mumma did start me on applesauce and green beans puree, but I have been having loose bowel for a while so that’s on hold.

Weight… hmm.. lets not go there. I don’t want to upset my mumma. [Just between you and me, sshh... 35th percentile. Down from 45th. Hey, got to stay slim and trim ok.. Keep it to yourself now... ] I will tell my height though. Last couple of months, my parents have been calling me chutanki or chutku[little], and I am so not liking it. Not even a bit. I proved to them this time by showing a 70th percentile on the scale. Though the doc keeps saying that I seem to be genetically geared towards my mom, which means I am probably going to be on the smaller side.. sigh.. Not to loose hope, with the advancement of technology at this rate, who knows there will be a time when I can choose how tall I would like to be. Lets hope.

Sleep… I am still not sleeping through the nigh. Well.. I sleep 5 hours straight, then I am kinda half sleep half awake another 5 hours. I do go back to sleep right away if nursed every 3 hours after that. My ped was not happy to hear this and advised mumma to stop feeding me at midnights. hmm.. I am not that easy to let go, I think. Hey, when I am sleepy and hungry at the same time what do you expect of me? I am only 7 months old. Mumma and papa have decided to rock me back to sleep when I grunt in the night. Ain’t working, hmm.. ok.. I will try.. I promise.

I love dancing. Mumma had probably mentioned our evening and weekend routines. Sometimes we shift from the low, calming music to loud rap kinds. Ddidi goes wild. She jumps up and down, runs back and forth. Lately papa and Ddidi compete how fast they can jump. Apparently thats called dancing. I do my bit to keep the enthusiasm going. Belted in the bouncer, I push my upper body front and back, combined with wiggling my hands and feets. Papa stops, comes closer gives me a kiss and says I love it, my little roly poly lady. I love when he says that

I can recognize my family members. My mumma should be in my visual range, else I get a little worried. She carries my food supply you know! Lately papa makes fun of me and her by singing – mataji, jhalak dikhla jaa.. aaja aaja..

Love,
Dlittle