Just another post

No blogging this week. Except for this post :) Got back from a hectic but super nice long weekend + one day trip to San Francisco. Was supposed to meet/call DDMom and could not which sucked, but now i have a reason to go back and visit. Will resume blogging on Monday. Check out for these posts (with pictures) next week.

The San Francisco Trip - Chip touched a shark here!

A Tale Of Two Cakes: The Panda bear cake from the bakery vs. the bear cake I make. I bake, you vote. I have NO idea how I am going to accomplish that, the party is on Saturday and I am sleep deprived and still on West Coast time.

The Working Woman's Pregnancy Book

This is one realistic book. That was my first impression upon reading it. Written by Dr.Marjorie Greenfield, The Working Woman’s Pregnancy Book, combines the development of your pregnancy with compelling advice and emotional support. But most importantly, it acknowledges the realities of a pregnant working woman. When to tell you boss you are pregnant, how to handle a change in workplace dynamics, whether to travel or not, how to deal with fatigue and deadlines. Not only does Dr.Greenfield draw from her own experience as a working woman, a mother and Ob-Gyn, but she draws from the experiences of many women as well. The experiences, thoughts and situations these working women went through are interspersed as small comments through out the book – at every stage of pregnancy.

From pre-school teachers, scientists, violinists, policewomen, pilots, lawyers, even a state governor – they all have stories about their own pregnancies as working women to share. Some positive, some not so, but all of them completely in tune with the realities of working women. Yes, it is likely that your boss is going to feel you are choosing family over your job, yes you might get sidelined for important projects, and yes, you might get treated differently now that you are pregnant. A small snippet about a police woman wondering where to position a gun holster brought a smile to my face and a sense of pride too. That she was unwilling to quit her job, instead choosing to take extra training to qualify for a gun she could put in an ankle holster – the only place she could put a gun in her third trimester –is one amazing story.

The book is full of sound advice and the best part was a section dedicated to labor and delivery approaches. It is extremely balanced and non-judgmental. She suggests you select a provider based on your philosophies. This will save a lot of miscommunication later on when you want a natural birth and she is all hi-tech or the other way round. Another thing I found useful is some surprising facts about the FMLA. So, if you are planning on delivering in the USA, I would urge you to look closely at FMLA, I did not know a lot of things about it.

The book is an easy read. Helpful illustrations and sound advice. Not amplifying the risks and problems a pregnancy can run into, but acknowledging them matter-of-factly. But most importantly, Dr.Greenfield writes as an equal. She, is one of the few authors who do regard their target readers as informed and educated. Reading this book is like sitting with a knowledgeable, compassionate friend, a latte in hand, telling you how to plan for and enjoy your pregnancy and the arrival of the baby while being committed to a full time job.

Nice

First, apologies. For not writing about this before. Thank you, Mummyjaan, K3 and I Love Lucy . I am honored. To have people reading your blog is gratifying, but to be thought of nice is uplifting indeed.

This is what they have to say about me. Mummyjaan thinks I am one of the “Lovely and kind people in blog-world”. Mummyjaan, I think is one of the most level headed people I have met. Very balanced and objective. She’s a smart cookie, that one. It’s been a pleasure knowing you. K3 thinks I am “polite and kind” and this is what I have to say to her -woman, you have to meet me while I am driving. I met K-3 while where we planning for the mega baby shower and boy I met such an effusive person and an awesome geek. I mean who titles their posts standard deviation? Full of enthusiasm and warmth and it reflects on her blog. I love lucy thinks I am honest and sophisticated. All I am going to say here is that it takes one to know one J I have been reading I love lucy’s blog for sometime now and have always found her to be no-frills. Very sincere. There is a charming simplicity about her which is such a rare find in this century. We have talked offline too and she always strikes me as someone I could have totally hung out with in college.

And now passing on this award. This is what the creator of the award says about it-

"This award will be awarded to those that are just nice people , good blog friends and those that inspire good feelings and inspiration! Those that care about others that are there to lend support or those that are just a positive influence in our blogging world!"

Dipali – She is someone I would like to turn into as I grow older. Full of good old fashioned, down to earth wisdom, which she shares freely. A very long time ago she wrote me a warm, thoughtful email when BigGeek was recovering. And we barely knew each other back then. Since then I have enjoyed her blog – especially the bits about NYC and tales from her childhood.

Sue – I see so much of me in her. She always stirs the quiescent bohemian in me. Candid and direct. Artsy. She should have been living in Paris, that one. She has a wonderful sense of style where her writing is concerned and I am always surprised (or may be I should not be) how she manages to pick an arcane reference in a post or an email and go with it.

Rayshma – Last but certainly not the least. I could adopt her. She is so full of joie de vivre. Bubbling, happy, kind, warmhearted. I look forward to her posts because they always manage set me in a positive frame of mind. She believes in herself and can’t help but pass that feeling to those who read her blog. So Rayshma, if you ever have a daughter, I am promising Chip to her (if she wants Chip of course)

Here’s your award, ladies. Enjoy.

The Graduate, the penny and other stories

The Good: BigGeek graduated.
He is officially an MBA now. A hundred years ago, we would be scrambling to go to the sign-maker to get a new name plate for our front door. Now with an MBA added to it. Cap, gown, hood, diploma. The works. Looked handsome indeed. Traditional pictures holding diploma with proud parents and proud (and relieved) wife.

The Bad: It rained on his graduation parade.
Saturday was nice. Monday is nice. Cold, but at least sunny. Sunday- the day of his graduation, was gray and overcast and it rained. On the main parade with about 5000 students. My mother-in-law and father-in-law did not see BigGeek walk the lawn. It was so crowded. People with umbrellas and raincoats standing on chairs. We were prepared for the rain too. But not in a good way. We had no umbrellas and no raincoats so had to stay along the covered porches in the sidelines which were crowded beyond crowded. The smaller ceremony at his B-school where he actually got his diploma had an inclement weather policy in effect. The ceremony was moved indoors adding to the crowds.

The Ugly: Chip swallowed a penny.
Wait there’s more. Chip had a bad cold, asthma and a suspected pink eye. A slight temperature. So Chip and I went to the ceremony but came back to the hotel before it began and stayed there while BigGeek walked the lawn and later got his diploma. At least the mother-in-law and father-in-law were there. I am glad about that. Saturday evening, before the graduation, there was a party BigGeek and I were supposed to go to. My mother-in-law and father-in-law were babysitting Chip. They planned to take him out and let him run. Earlier in the day, I had given Chip a penny to play with. So while BigGeek and I were out meeting his professors and fellow students, Chip put the penny in his mouth. My mother-in-law suspected something was up and suspecting it was the penny, ssked Chip to open his mouth. Chip opened it alright, but swallowed the penny before he did.

Now no account of our adventures is complete with a Chippy anecdote. So here it is.

The anecdote:
BigGeek was giving his parents a tour of his school Saturday afternoon. Chip and I chugged along. Chip was talking loudly, peppering the conversation with wise and astute remarks about poop and lawnmowers. His mother was imploring him to use his inside voice when suddenly a cop appeared. She had a coffee in one hand and while exchanging brief pleasantries with BigGeek, hurried to get out the door behind us. Chip saw the cop and as she walked past us, fixed his gaze on her and said loudly “Excuse us.” She was so taken aback that for a second she did not know what to say. Then she laughed and told Chip, “You are just fine.”

Saturday May 14, 2005

(What happened on Friday May 13, 2005)
3:30 a.m.
DotThoughts wakes up. She feels a slight tightness in her belly. She can’t fall back asleep. After about 10 minutes, it comes again. A slight squeeze of belly muscles. Has it started? It’s 3:45 a.m. She decides to wait and watch before waking up everybody. She notes the time. 8 minutes later, again. Slightly stronger. She counts. Seven minutes this time. She calls out to her mom. Loudly. Her mother rushes in. “The contractions have started.” DotThoughts tell her. They time. Its seven minutes. DotThoughts is excited. Not scared as she thought she would be. But very, very excited. BigGeek is fast asleep, but stirs with the commotion. “What happened? Are you OK?” he asks sleepily. “The contractions have started.” “How do you know?” he asks. “Because we are timing them. Seven minutes apart.” He sits up straight. A little amazed, a little confused. “Let’s pack my hospital bag. You have to still assemble the crib and the swing. We haven’t picked out a name. Now where did I keep that list of names? And you still have to put in the car seat.” DotThoughts is wide awake and planning and doling out instructions. She pulls down a gym tote, puts in her clothes. The grandmother-to-be selects soft clothes for the soon to be arriving grandson. The yellow and white shawl knitted by her, a small sweater sent by DotThoughts’ grand mother, tiny shirts sent by the aunt, a satin blanket sent by her mother-in-law. Everything is packed and ready.

8:00 a.m.
The contractions are coming at 5 minute intervals. DotThoughts is very, very hungry. She knows she won’t get anything to eat once she gets into the hospital. She stuffs her face with a blueberry muffin and drinks a cup of coffee. The contractions have started to slow down her activity level. She has to pause and stop when her stomach squeezes. She calls Dr.V and tells her that labor has commenced, gives her BigGeek’s cell number since she doesn’t plan to carry hers. After a small chat and planning to drive to the hospital when contractions are 1 minute apart, she hangs up. The contractions are stronger now. She and BigGeek walk on the deck enjoying the beautiful sunny Saturday, waiting in breathless anticipation for their son to arrive.

9:30 a.m.
The list of names is no where to be found. BigGeek prints another copy from an old email and they debate on the names. They have been at name logger heads for a while.

10:00 a.m.
Dr.V calls to check on DotThoughts’ status. At 4 minutes now and stronger. She asks DotThoughs if the pain is bad. “No, not really.” replies DotThoughts swinging gently on the deck swing with her mother. “I am just impatient. Can’t wait for the baby.” She confesses.

11:00 a.m.
At 4 minutes. Sometimes at 3 minutes. Sometimes at 2.5 minutes. Stronger.

12:00 noon
DotThoughts is bored. How long will this continue. She asks her mother. “Don’t complain.” She tells DotThoughts. “Women can be in labor for three days. You are already at 3 minutes and progressing.” DotThoughts nods. “And remember what I said. No screaming even if you are in pain. It’s not that bad. And the nurses talk when you scream. So no screaming. OK?” DotThought nods again.

12:30 p.m.
BigGeek calls Dr.V and tells them they are headed to the hospital. The contractions are 2 minutes apart, some are 1.5 minutes apart. He suddenly remembers their lunch date with M & R, their close friends who just had their baby. He calls them. “Hey R we won’t be coming to lunch.” “Whhhyyyyy” comes a piqued voice from the other end. “Because we are headed to the hospital.” BigGeek is grinning. “Oooooh. Let us know if you need anything.” Comes the excited voice at the other end. “We will keep you updated.” BigGeek hangs up.

12:45 p.m.
They arrive at the hospital. BigGeek escorts DotThoughts and her mother to the maternity ward. Despite pre-registration, they need more paperwork, so BigGeek grabs DotThoughts’ wallet and goes to the other wing to finish it. The hospital is not so busy. They ask her if she wants a room with a Jacuzzi. She shakes her head. She plans to take an epidural anyways.

1:00 p.m.
The nurse comes to check in on DotThoughts and says there is no progress. “But the contractions are 1 to 1.5 minutes apart.” DotThoughts is puzzled. The nurse goes to call Dr.V.

1:30 p.m.
Dr.V comes in and examines DotThoughts. “You are fully dilated.” She announces. The nurse is summoned and is given a good talking to about the mistake she made. Dr.V tells DotThoughts that she can get an epidural if she wants. DotThoughts gets up from the bed and goes to the rocking chair and rocks herself gently. She tells her mom and BigGeek to eat lunch and not in her presence please. She is very hungry, carving real food and not just ice chips.

1:40 p.m.
BigGeek and DotThoughts’ mom are out getting lunch. A nurse comes in asks DotThoughts if she want an epidural. DotThoughts shakes her head. Not yet.

2:10 p.m.
BigGeek and DotThoughts’ mother get back from lunch. The nurse comes in to examine DotThoughts who is still rocking herself on the rocking chair. The contractions are stronger now and she thinks they are about 30 secs apart now. BigGeek asks if DotThoughts wants an epidural. She hems and haws, asks her mother how bad the actual delivery is and in the end decides to get one.

2:30 p.m.
Epidural. DotThoughts sleeps. BigGeek sleeps. DotThoughts’ mom sleeps.

3:00 p.m.
Nurse comes in to check. Doing nicely. Dr. V arrives to check in. She tells DotThoughts that she needs to do an emergency C-section at 5:00 or so and someone else might have to deliver DotThoughts’ baby. It is unlikely that DotThoughts will deliver by 5:00pm. There is a good chance she will, but there is a good chance she won’t. DotThoughts wants Dr.V to deliver the baby. She likes Dr.V and trusts her. She tells so to Dr.V. “I cannot postpone the other c-section. The baby there is in distress. We are trying for things to progress naturally there and I have given her two hours, so I have to be out of here by 5:00. How do you feel about a small oxytocin drip to speed things along?” asks Dr.V. DotThoughts is absolutely fine with it. The oxytocin is put in. We all drift back to sleep in the cool, dark room.

3:30 p.m.
Nurse comes in to check. Everything looks good. Textbook.

4:00 p.m.
Nurse comes in to check. She turns on the light and announces. “Come on mommy, its time. Come on Daddy, come on grandma, baby is going to be here soon. DotThoughts looks with fascination as two more nurses come in and set up a small cart with necessary implements. Another small cart with a steel tray and a warming light on top of it. They ask her if she wants a mirror. DotThoughts shakes her head. No thankyouverymuch. Dr V. arrives and the final phase begins.

4:15 p.m.
DotThoughts is joking away telling them this is easy and she totally does not need 6 weeks to recover and she could be at work on Monday. They all laugh and the nurse tells DotThoughts to concentrate on getting the baby out first.

4:20 p.m.
DotThoughts finally get the hang of it. It’s an a-ha moment for her. The baby will be out in 15 minutes she tells her doctor and the nurses with confidence. Dr.V laughs and tells DotThoughts that she has managed to deliver a lot of hair so far.

4:25 p.m.
The baby has a lot of hair. Wow. That’s what everybody is talking about. DotThoughts’ mother who has been holding her hand peeks over to see the progress. BigGeek who is by DotThoughts’ head also walk around to see the progress. They are both totally awed.

4:35 p.m.
DotThoughts and BigGeek’s son gets his first shampoo when Dr.V slathers his crown with tear free baby shampoo.

4:40 p.m.
Head is out. The cord is wrapped around the neck. Dr.V expertly untangles it and pulls out Chip. He lets out a deep, loud, throaty cry. They cut the cord, and put the shivering little newborn on DotThoughts’ bare bosom. DotThoughts has become a mother. BigGeek has become a father. DotThoughts’ mother has become a grandmother and half the way across the globe another grandmother, two grand fathers, one great grandfather, two great grand mothers, two uncles and an aunt are born as they sleep in the still of the night.


Happy Birthday Dearest Chip. May you be showered with health, happiness, wisdom as you step into your fourth year.

Friday May 13, 2005

5:30 p.m.
DotThoughts is very exhausted. And huge. And tired of people asking her if she is having twins. She comes home from work, vowing to go back for half a day on Monday, shut down everything and tell her bossman she is going to work from home or not work atall until the baby arrives. The baby, a son who has yet no name, is due to arrive on May 21.

6:00 p.m.
DotThoughts’ mother makes her some tea and the duo head to Costco to buy some cereal and rice and other things. A woman by the jewelry counter asks when DotThoughts is due. In a week, replies DotThoughts. “I think you will take longer than that.” The woman says surveying DotThoughts’ belly. DotThoughts’ mother restrains DotThoughts as she tries to harm the said lady. The lady doesn’t back down. “I have 8 kids.” She says. “Let me tell you a trick. You walk for three hours and rest for three hours. Repeat until you go in labor.” Okaaaay. DotThoughts is ready to try anything at this point.

7:00 p.m.
A proper dinner can actually be cooked today. No more microwaved TV dinners. The kitchen, which was being renovated, has been sorta completed. Finally. After 2.5 months. The sink is connected and everything is running well. No tiled backsplash yet, but we can cook at least. DotThoughts’ mother asks her what she feels like eating for dinner. Varan-Bhaat and Bhaji (plain dal, rice and pakora). The house fills with fragrant basmati and ghee and crisp kanda-batata bhaji being fried. The meal is eaten with great gusto.

8:00 p.m.
Everybody is watching TV. DotThoughts is slumped in a bean bag, tired, telling BigGeek about the woman in Costco and her labor-inducing tricks. She is doing all that walking tomorrow, she announces. “What about the acupressure thingy you have been doing?” he asks. The acupressure trick is to press the base of your left thumb to go into labor. “I have been doing that since yesterday. Every 10 minutes.” She massages the sore spot under her left thumb. “It hurts now. My hand is sore. And Dr. V thinks I won’t be early when she examined me yesterday. I need a new trick.”

10:00 p.m.
Everybody is in bed. DotThoughts can’t sleep. Not because of the excitement of impending mother hood (even though it is just a week away) but because she can find no position that comes close to comfortable. BigGeek is lying next to her, snoring. In the room across the hall, she can hear the faint sound of the TV in her mother’s room. She thinks about joining her mother but getting up without help is a problem.

10:30 p.m.
Boredom takes over. After several minutes involving balancing acts, sheer will power and mind-boggling logistics, she decides to head to her mother’s room. The two watch TV for some time. But 40 minutes later, DotThoughts’ mother is feeling sleepy. “I am going to keep the door to my room open.” She says. “You do the same, so I can hear you if you need anything.” DotThoughts nods and decides to go to bed.

11:30 p.m.
DotThoughts is back in her room. Her mother is fast asleep. DotThoughts can’t sleep. She is very squeamish. After another round of balancing acts, logistics and the like, she heads in to the bathroom, bends over the toilet bowl and throws up. “BigGeek, BigGeek” she calls faintly to her snoring husband. “I am throwing up. I need help. I can’t get up.” She is greeted by louder snores. Wondering how to get up, she calls out again and again. She is so exhausted, he voice is so faint, she wonders if she must crawl out of the bathroom. Suddenly by the door her mother appears. She helps DotThoughts get up and wash and to bed. BigGeek is still snoring. DotThoughts is very angry. “Come sleep in my room.” Her mother tells her. DotThoughts shakes her head. Her mother is a BIG snorer. Sleeping in three feet vicinity of her means no sleep. “You snore a lot.” She tells her mother. “I am sleeping here.” “Okay. Let’s keep the doors open, so I can hear you.” DotThoughts’ mother goes back to bed. DotThoughts is very angry at BigGeek. She pokes him in the belly. Hard. He doesn’t wake up. She shakes him. “What??” he wakes up. “I threw up just now.” She tells him accusingly as if that was his fault. “When?” asks BigGeek. “Just now. I called you so many times. Even Aie heard it in her room” DotThoughts is angry. “I was asleep.” BigGeek tells her. “Okay let’s go to bed now.” DotMom is feeling a little vindicated after having woken up BigGeek and she is feeling infinitely better after the puke session. She falls into a light sleep.

Continued...

$53,585

That’s what salary.com puts me in for my Mommy job. For all the trouble I take, I expected 6 figures, but no. Oh well. At least Chip and BigGeek think I am priceless.

We don’t have anything special planned this mother’s day. I already got my PS3 and Rockband as a mother’ day + upcoming birthday gift all rolled into one. My in laws are visiting and they arrived yesterday. When I told my mother-in-law last night that Sunday is mother’s day, she said “Aila, you all celebrate mother’s day?” Happily ofcourse. I told her to name what she wanted and she said she wanted a new Glucometer. I shook my head. “That’s not an indulgence. We are getting a new Glucometer anyway.” I think I will take my mom-in-law out for a movie or to the salon or shopping – whatever she wants to do. I told BigGeek that he should be doing something special for his mom, but he has happily delegated the task to me. And truth be told, I am happy about it. My mom-in-law and I always enjoy our shopping trips sans her kid and mine. They both whine the minute they see stores that don’t sell computer parts or electronics. So she and I are both guaranteed to have a whale of a time by ourselves. Ever since Chip was born, my mom had always been here for mother’s day. The first year I was a week away from delivering, so we just took her out to dinner. The next year, we shopped, last year we saw Ratatouille, which was lots of fun. This year it’s the mother-in-law. So the mother’s day party continues.

It’s also my father-in-law’s 70th birthday tomorrow. I plan to bake a cake of course. A chocolate-orange bundt. Fat-free and Egg-free. We also leave for Connecticut/NYC tomorrow morning. I am crossing my fingers it doesn’t rain too much. Or rather it rains back home, so GND won’t have to water my garden and doesnot rain where we are headed.

So on that note, adios and Happy Mother’s day to all you hard-working moms. Oh, and what plans have your SOs and kids made for you? Tell me, I am listening.

And then there were two

Just as I was getting dressed, BigGeek got out of bed in the morning scratching his head and uttered these words. “I think the orange platy fish is dead.” He hadn’t even been downstairs to the fish tank. Why did he think the fish was dead? Maybe BigGeek was turning yogic. “How do you know it is dead? You haven’t even been downstairs to look at the fish tank yet.” I mumbled carefully applying my eye shadow.
“Well, I think it was dead last night.” BigGeek said.
“Last night?”
“Well, I thought it was sleeping. I didn’t think it was dead.”
“Was it breathing?”
“No.”
“Then it’s dead.”
“That what I thought. It might be dead.”
“Oh no! the fish was lying dead in the fish tank. That might have contaminated the water.”
“Will you please, please take it out? Please?”

Fun, anyone?

It all started two weeks ago. We had been meeting up with some friends for dinner, and later went to their house to play Guitar Hero 3 on their new Wii. I had played Guitar Hero 2 some months ago at BigGeek’s aunt’s house. I was no match for BigGeek’s teenaged cousin and I was boo-ed off the stage every time. For AC/DC numbers. Played at easy level. It was no different at our friend’s house but I managed to play one song entirely and not get kicked out. And it was such an adrenaline rush. I had not had so much fun since a really long time.

My first video game was, when I was, I think 11 or 12. It was one of those hand held ones. I forgot its name, but it was the type you shoot down airplanes and ships and even subs. It was most addictive. And not just to me. My brother and even my mom. We would fight all the time to play that game. Then came Pac man and Space invaders when we acquired a PC. Then when Windows came out, it was minesweeper all the way. I was so addicted to the game. We never had an Atari or Sega- my father would have thrown us out of the house had we asked for one. Then came Prince of Persia and we spent many hours in the computer labs in college playing that. Anybody remember Prince? In the end, somebody managed to get cheat codes and saved the princess and that was the end of that. I think that was probably the first game with nice looking graphics. Nice looking for the 90s anyway. And SimCity – I played that briefly, never did get addicted to it though. Then came Wolfenstein. 3-D graphics, but it was a first person shooter type game – never did enjoy those. Like Warcraft (which my brother loved) but I didn’t. I played it a couple of times, but never got addicted to it. I stuck to the likes of Atomica, freely available online.

I gave BigGeek an Xbox for his birthday a few years ago and a car racing game with it. I never did get into racing. Or MechAssult. Just not my type. I like my aliens only in movies, thankyouverymuch. The Xbox and the games lay abandoned for most part. The Xbox was eventually hacked by BigGeek and he converted it to be a media hub and it has been proving to be most useful as that. I stuck to Atomica and Hangman. I introduced my mother to Atomica and it gave her a welcome break from playing solitaire online. I think their old monitor died from excess game playing! I kept cribbing that no games ever come out for women – they are all so testosterone laced. Guns and bombs and Armageddon.

But that changed when I saw Guitar Hero. Now, there was a game I could totally enjoy and two weeks ago with Chip in bed, at our friends’ home, I finally got the hold of it. “I have to have one.” I told BigGeek. “Can I get a Wii and Guitar Hero for my birthday?” He was surprised. I thought he would be happy, I mean he was, but he just wasn’t thinking of buying Guitar Hero or a new gaming console. But this weekend we made the trip to Best Buy to buy a TV (BigGeek’s graduation gift – a 52” LCD) and he picked up the PlayStation 3 and RockBand. Not Guitar Hero, but the WHOLE Rock band. With a guitar and drums and a mike for sing along. BigGeek connected the system and the new TV and we sat down to, ostensibly test it – the family room was a mess with boxes and BigGeek’s suitcases lying around from his 2 week business trip from which he got back on Friday. Five minutes later, but we were glued. There we were crating avtars and playing songs – I finally got to be Nancy Wilson (I want to be her in my next life) atleast on play station. Chip was napping and we had such a BLAST playing R.EM. and Nirvana. Just like two teens. We took a break in the evening to run errands and came back home, made a quick dinner of sandwiches and played again. Chip played too. He got his own toy guitar and sat next to his Aie and Baba playing it – Jimi Hendrix style – strumming with his left hand and telling his Baba appreciatively “Changla vajavtois (you are playing really well)”. That lil guy likes his hard rock, let me tell you. I played the drums and realized for the first time that Nirvana, who I think is nursery rhymes for grown ups in terms of musical complexity - has umm… difficult time signatures and I had a hard time playing drums to it. That’s only more excuse to practice more, huh!

And so, the bottom line is this. I am addicted to it. On my drive to work this morning, I tuned to my usual rock station and saw all those tracks coming like they do in play station. And I haven’t been able to get them out of my head. And I can’t wait to go home and play. But we have to stow away boxes and suitcases, make dinner, feed Chip, play with him, and read to him and then maybe. No, I think, and then, definitely.

The artist formerly known as DotMom

One morning as DotMom was waking up from anxious dreams, she discovered in bed she had been changed into a monstrous verminous bug. She lay on her armor-hard back and saw, as she lifted her head up a little, her brown arched abdomen divided up into rigid bow – like sections. From this height the blanket, just about ready to slide off completely, could hardly stay in place. Her numerous legs, pitifully thin in comparison to the rest of her circumference, flickered helplessly before her eyes.

“What’s happened to me”, she thought. It was no dream.


OK. I better stop before I get sued. So I have metamorphosized to a new moniker. And like the paragraph above it too is plagiarized borrowed. When I started this blog, it was a device to coerce me to write regularly. To polish my craft. To bore you. Chip and BigGeek were was my muses and still are. But I am more than a wife and a mother. My blog is more than a mother-and-wife blog, or I so I hope. And thus, the moniker follows suit. The moniker is a hand-me-down. It was BigGeek’s a very long time ago. And he graciously allowed me to take it. I wish he were that way with his T-shirts too. (I borrow them anyway and cook in em and stain them with curries and he has given up).

I think I am going to miss my old moniker though. For a few days anyway. It was such a tacky pun, but I liked it. But I like the new one too. Sorta cool, a lil pretentious. Very 90’s. Hope you all like it too!

(And a thousand, no million apologies to Kafka.)

Ouch

Sticker shock. I have never ordered a cake from a bakery. Never. I like baking. To me, it is a BIG stress buster and since I am always stressed, I am always looking for opportunities to bake. But what with Chip’s upcoming birthday and his school banning home cooked food in fear of allergens like peanuts, I had to resort to ordering his birthday cake from a bakery. That also would bake egg-free cakes. Because Chip is allergic to egg.

Last year, at gnd’s house, at T2’s birthday party, I ate the most amazing egg-free and diabetic cakes ever. E-v-e-r. You could not tell. They were soft, moist, light and unbelievably delicious (I’ll sell my soul for those recipes, lemme tell ya) . So, I got the name of that bakery – it is hard to find a bakery that bakes egg-free cakes and delicious ones too - and went there yesterday to twist arms and get the recipes order a birthday cake. For his preschool. 18 kids. Nothing fancy. A simple quarter sheet cake. Vanilla. White frosting. With a Giant Panda AND a teddy bear. That’s what His Chipness desires. Panda and Teddy. Both. He has been very specific about it. Aesthetics be damned.

The baker, a big, nice guy, greeted me and I gave him the specs. “You want two bears on the cake?” he boomed. “Yes, my son wants both bears. A panda and a teddy.” He was scratching his head. Putting two bears on a rectangular cake that is pleasing to the eye is not easy. But he wasn’t thinking of that. “Ok. What does a panda bear look like?” he was asking. I should have brought a picture. Dang. “Well..its like a black and white teddy bear. Black paws, black eyes, black back.” I replied. “Ok. Let me show you” he went to the printer and made a copy of the teddy bear picture he was holding. “Like this?” he showed me a black and white copy of a teddy bear. It did not look like a Panda. It looked like a black and white copy of a teddy bear. But I am not a fussy sort. And I said OK. Black + White + Bear = Panda. To Chip anyways. “With two bears, you will have to pay for two artworks.” The baker warned me. “That’s OK. It’s his birthday.” I said.

We sat down at the little table and he pulled forms. Stamped NO-EGG and NO –NUTS in large, reassuring, red letters over them. And started to fill out.

Cake (quarter sheet, yellow)- $42.00
Frosting- Vanilla
Filling – None
Artwork - $13.50
Tax – Illegeible
Total – $58.00

$58 for a sheet cake? “Is that 58 dollars?” I asked. “Yes m’am. And its only one artwork. I can add another one if you want.” “No, let’s just do one big panda bear.” I could not believe I was paying so much for a yellow sheet cake. Is that what it is out there? For birthday cakes? Wow.

So the cake has only one Panda bear and all plans of ordering cake for a second family-and-friends party from that bakery because my schedule was going to be too-crazy-to-be -baking has been promptly abandoned. I am rolling up my sleeves and baking cake layers this weekend and freezing them. I’ll also make pandas AND teddies out of chocolate ahead of time. Fill and frost, add bamboo shoots, put the bears and we’ll be good to rock and roll come party day.

And lest I forget and incur His Chipness nuclear tantrummy wrath, I have to find a plastic teddy bear that goes on top the bakery panda cake. Where to put it I don’t know. Prolly on panda's head. Or mine.

Chip’s Fishing Expedition

Only, this one did not involve a creel or a bait or a rod. Maybe I am wrong about the bait. I was the bait. Chip loves fish. In every way. To watch, to eat. Mostly to eat. The first time he saw live fish swimming was over a year and half ago in a store that old adventure gear and clothing. The store has a huge stone aquarium filled with, I think, Koi fish. Chip ran excitedly to it, he was only 18mo then and I pointed the fish out to him. Chip saw them for a bit, then promptly asked to eat them.

A few days ago, bolstered by the wild birds coming to our back yard, I decided to give in to Chip’s demands for getting a fish tank at home. We got a small plastic one, a live plant to put in it, some gravel, water conditioner, some food, a thermometer, a net and of course some live fish. We set up the aquarium last Sunday, put the fish in and Chip promptly asked to eat them. As he had asked a few days ago, to a rather chubby bird sitting on the fence, “Birdie, will be you be my dinner?” He was asking the same question to the fish now, his mouth watering. “Chip”, I explained patiently, “Remember those bushes with red berries near you school?” “Yes.” Chip answered. “Do you eat those berries?” Chip shook his head “No.” “Why don’t we eat those berries, Chip?” “Because they are for show only. No eating them.” Pat came the reply. “See? These fish are for show only. You can’t eat them. OK?” Chip agreed. “They are your pets, you have to talk to them, feed them. Not eat them.” “Let’s give them pear to eat.” Chip was excited. “They don’t eat pear. They eat this fish food.” I said showing him a jar of stinky fish flakes. Chip sniffed them. “Mmmm.. they are yummy, Aie.” Before he could grab and eat a few I dropped some for the fish. The fish came up to the surface and gobbled them up. “Isn’t this fun?” Chip wasn’t impressed. He walked away bored.

The next day, when we got home from school, he did not glance at the fish tank. “I want to go out and ride my scooter.” We went out, he rode his scooter, got back home, I fed the fish, Chip was still not interested. Wednesday evening, one fish died. I was upset. Well, not a whole lot upset, but just a little.. I had no idea why it died. It could have been old or diseased, it had been eating well. I did not want Chip to see a dead fish, so I sent him out to play while I cleaned the tank. Two days later, I caught him looking intently at the fish. “Do they have ears?” “I don’t think they do” I replied. “A mouth?” “Yes they have a mouth.” “Look they have eyes also, Aie. And hands. They don’t have legs.” “That’s right Chip. And those are not hands... they are fins. There, that’s a new word for you.” Chip sat looking at the fish as they played hide and seek. I went inside the kitchen to fix him his dinner when Chip came rushing in, excited. “I just gave them their dinner.” He ran back out and got the jar of fish flakes. “I gave them this. Not pear.” I ran outside to the aquarium. There was more than a teaspoon of fish food in it. I cleaned it out, changed some water to decontaminate the tank and explained to Chip that the fish were so tiny, they needed only 1 flake per fish. Not more. He wasn’t buying it. “They were very hungry.” He insisted. Yesterday morning, same thing. He ran down stairs and dumped some fish food into the tank. I did the clean and explain routine again but he was too fascinated watching the fish eat the food.

He probably is too little to care for the fish himself, but he remembers to feed them everyday. And he watches them and talks and sings to them. That’s saying something. Perhaps we can graduate to getting an iguana in a few years!



And now for something entirely different. Nobody asked me what the last post was all about. Not even BigGeek or my dad or other people who I assumed read my blog. Either they don’t read or are convinced I have finally gone out of my mind. But I shall still give an explanation, nevertheless. This is what it is all about. Over 70+ bloggers gave an online virtual shower to 10 bloggie mothers-to-be. Spearheaded by Tharini, the idea was carried forward by Gauri to include a treasure hunt and she along with Altoid (who I met for the first time yesterday and what an amazing person she is, so gentle and the personification of nice), Sue and Kiran came up with these Potteresque rhymes (They are giving Rowling a run for her money, I am telling you). MayG designed the amazing website and DDMom, a signature book. We all helped and posted riddles and wishes and gyaan and it was the fun-nest Friday ever. I think kids went unwashed and hungry, deadlines set aside as the 70+ of us watched with bated breath the treasure hunt unfold. A lot has been written about this, so I am going to link to one that summarizes it all and links to others as well (Sorry, I am down with a cold again and the posts are uninspired, so please bear with me)

Riddle-me-ree, who can she be?

Greetings wonderful MTBs!!!
and good work to all of you!
For having solved the riddle before
I give you all this clue.

The letter " N "

Write it down, add it on...
And let’s move on to the next little song.

“Happiness is a choice she tells
Slimy food she repels
Her blog is a colorful band
Her daughter and son are her dears
Old things she does gather
This is how we are, she cheers.”

Solve it and you get your lead
Misguess, and you lose your speed
Solve it slow but solve it now
And before you go, take a little bow

Go to 'Comments' and leave me a clue
Tell me which blog you are off to.
Good luck! Good luck! Be on your way.
You have your work, cut out for the day!

Labor on

A puzzle swirling in my head, well not all the time, but in a now on, now off mode, was precipitated while surfing my new Verizon FIOS cable service. I am a sucker for TLC-like channels and food p**n and house p**n like Food TV and HGTV. After making sure FIOS was giving me my daily dose of fat chefs, home designers with six figure budgets to decorate a backyard and fashion stylists who did unbelievable makeovers on pretty but dorky women and I turned to their other offerings. And guess what? They had another TLC-like channel. Forgot what the name is. But when I surfed, there was a show like the baby story and bringing home baby. This one was about delivering the baby. The mother-to-be was in the LDR and discussing her birth plan on the camera. She wanted to go “natural”. OK. But what amazed me was her ferocity about it. No epidural. No c-section. No intervention. I have met plenty of people like that. She is not alone. In birthing classes, at work on the parenting message board I am a part of. They are everywhere and they are growing fast.

Women who want to have babies at home, who forgo an OB-GYN for a midwife. Are these women forgetting that the leading cause of deaths in women until the turn of last century was, take a guess, childbirth? What gives? What drives them to make these stupid choices? Is it the implicit promise that if something goes horribly wrong while giving birth, they can dial 911 and get proper medical care? There are several issues than stump me and I am going to discuss them in a systematic fashion one by one. Starting from what I feel is the craziest.

Giving Birth At Home
This trend is growing. These women want to give birth in their own beds. Many times supervised only by their husbands. Or perhaps a doula, not even a trained midwife. This is insane. Things can and have been known to go wrong at the last minute. What then? Do these women stick to their principles and go all natural then? No matter what? Of course not. I am sure they are too chicken to deal with the baby trying to push his/her elbow through their cervix and call 911 putting undue stress on the emergency response system and the baby. Will they go to a remote area where there is no emergency response whatsoever and let nature take over? I don’t think so. I think it’s a sham. All that go-back-to-your-roots, lets be organic earth mothers. Yeah, right.

No intervention: No c-section, no vacuum pump, no episiotomies
When I was about 30 weeks pregnant, my OB-GYN waned to discuss my birthing plan. I had read about birthing plans and not just single paged ones but 4-6 paged long ones detailing how every step of labor and delivery must be handled. I had no birthing plan. I just wanted my baby and me to be healthy and safe. I told so to my OB-GYN and asked her if women actually put their labor and delivery plans to paper in such detail. Her answer amazed me. Most of them do, she said. Now I don’t know if this is a trend triggered by momzillas reading too many mommy-to-be books. It very well might be. She said there are a few who want to stick to it no matter what and it took a LOT of her time and energy in convincing them to go for a c-section or a vacuum pump or whatever because the baby was in distress. I trusted my doctor. Not my mother, not my husband. For my delivery I trusted my doctor. If she wanted to do an episiotomy, she would not really need my permission.

No Pain Management
This one really, really stumps me. Why do women hesitate to get an epidural? I don’t think it’s just because it’s risky to the baby, which it is NOT. They are safe. Many, many studies show that and epidurals have been around for half a century now. I think women feel guilty and selfish taking something to alleviate their labor pain. Contractions are natural, yes, but not all things natural are necessarily good. What’s wrong with alleviating pain? Epidurals were not common when my mother gave birth more than a quarter of a century ago in India. But she knew about them then. But it was assumed a woman had to suffer to give birth to her child. WHY? Why should we suffer when there is a remedy?

A long time ago, in the 1940’s when epidurals were introduced in the USA, doctors told women that labor pain what the price every woman paid for the sins of Eve. Really? Now that puts a whole new spin on no-epidural, doesn’t it? We have sinned by carrying a child? And now must atone by undergoing labor? This doesn’t even merit a response from me. BigGeek assumed I would be taking an epidural. I had told my mother I would get an epidural. She told me the contractions are not that bad and you don’t remember them. She said to wait and see if I really needed one. My contractions were very bearable and I took it at the last chance offered. Because yes, despite all opinions on the issue I felt selfish. BigGeek wanted me to get out of pain. And I am glad I took the epidural. It did not prolong my labor or delivery. Chip was out in less than thirty minutes. And yes, I still remember how the contractions felt. You don’t forget them.

So. It’s out of my system now. This post had been welling up inside for a long time and I just did a core-dump.

Mama's Mojo

When I was pregnant, I poured over parenting books. How to put your babies in a feeding schedule, how to discipline them, how to encourage them to sleep on their own. Books that pigeon holed babies and children into neat categories and then gave advice on how to “deal” with them. Deal with them? Like they are some sort of a problem that got in our way? These books I felt, did not really acknowledge me as a parent who had feelings and instincts and did not acknowledge my child as one with a distinct and a unique personality. No, my child did not fall into Tracy Hogg’s six categories. And I thought the Ferber and the Brazelton methods bordered on child abuse.

What was missing from this advice? I asked myself. It was only later, many months later, I realized that the books had been written by nannies and pediatricians. Eminent, capable professionals. Not parents. That was the problem. You can be the world’s greatest nanny or the pediatrician, but you can’t remotely come close to becoming a parent. Parents are not only responsible for health and safety and education of their children, they are responsible in imparting values, a sense of moral code, ethics and a sense of spirituality. And I found the parenting books that I most identified with were on the ones written by parents. Like Dr.Sears and Marguerite Kelly. Who did not chastise you or brand you as a bad parent if your child did not sleep through out the night at six weeks of age. Who had been where I was right now, and they imparted parenting wisdom, not just advice.

Adding to this line of brilliant parenting wisdom is a book I read a few days ago. Mama Rock's Rules: Ten Lessons for Raising a Houseful of Successful Children. This is written by the star comedian Chris Rock’s mother, Rose Rock. She raised 10 children of her own and 17 foster children. She would know a thing or two about parenting now. Mama Rose, in a charmingly old-fashioned way, gives it to you as it is. She is not the kind who minces words. You know that kind, don’t you? And I like that. Too many too politically correct parenting books out there. Too many parenting books not quite in touch with reality. This one is refreshing.

Written in an easy conversational style, Mama Rose narrates incidents from her children’s childhood and the lessons she learnt as a mother and the strategies that worked for her. She says she wanted to raise successful children. How does she define successful children? Those that turn into kind, responsible people. Not star basketball players or actors or surgeons. Everyday people that leave behind a trail of goodness. Although the book is aimed for parents of slightly older children than the almost-three year old Chip, I enjoyed it. It’s best to dig a well way before you are thirsty, no? The Rock family was not privileged. Money was tight, the family large. Living in a neighborhood where education was not quite a priority, teenage pregnancies and drugs a norm, all 10 of Mama Rose’s kid became successful. They stayed out of trouble, had successful careers and became good responsible adults. That says for something.

So all you moms out there, read the book, it’s an easy read. Peppered with tales and snippets of this mama’s wisdom you will be smile and marvel how this woman did it all. After all, we could all use a bit of her mojo.

Cross posted on DMZ

The Bird Feeder

Chip, ever since coming back from India has been suffering from a lack of random audio-visual stimuli. Operative word being random. Looking out of any window in India reveals a smorgasbord of sensory delights. People walking. People chatting. People calling out. Cats. Dogs. Crows. Pigeons. Cars. Bicycles. Scooters. All this in a much greater quantity than what can be seen from any window of our quiet, back-to-woods suburban home. There is simply nothing to see here. Sure, the view is pretty, a red-stained deck with flower baskets opening out into a nice green lawn edged with maples. But there is no activity. Save for the odd squirrel - who have decreased in numbers thanks to a neighbor’s newly installed ultrasonic deer/squirrel repellent. The front windows are no better. Sure, they face the road and other homes, but save for an hour or two in the morning when the children walk to their bus stops and parents leave for work in their cars and the evening when they return home, there is really no activity. Kids play basket ball or skateboard but it has been cold and nobody has been doing anything outdoors that much.

So, to alleviate Chip’s boredom while waiting for consistently warmer temperatures, I decided to beckon the wild birds to our backyard. Now I had a make shift bird feeder I had been using for a couple of years. It was a large terra cotta dish where I just dumped in birdseed and let it sit on the deck. That, while effective was messy. Rain ruined the seed and I had to replace it ever time it rained and the birds made a royal mess. As did the squirrels who, I suspect ate most of the seed anyway. So, this year, I decided to upgrade to a proper bird feeder. Chip was thrilled, of course. A small house for the birds and food for them to eat in it? That was enough to make him go completely crazy.

Off we went to the hardware store. We got a plastic feeder, a shepherd’s hook to hang it from and some birdseed. What ever happened to putting out stale bread and other old grain for the birds I don’t know. I can’t believe I paid $5.99 for a bag of birdseed. But Chip was excited and we drove back home. I hammered the hook in our back yard. “Let’s put their dinner for them in their house.” I said. Chip jumped up and down. I unpacked the birdfeeder, opened the bag of birdseed, planning to pour it. But Chip wanted to help and in his enthusiasm dropped more birdseed on the deck than what went into the feeder. The feeder filled, we hung it on the stake. “And now the lil birds will come and sit here on the perches and eat” I announced. I went to keep the birdseed in the shed and back to work on my vegetable bed. Chip, who I thought was pottering around, came running a minute later. “The birds aren’t coming”, he was worried. “Give them a few minutes.” I said. “They don’t know we have put out some seed for them.” Chip had no patience. He ran back to the feeder and standing right beside it started to sing “Birdy birdy come here, birdy birdy come here.” I tried telling him the birds will not really come if he stood there like a scarecrow. But he spent the afternoon calling out to them and wondering why they would not come!

This morning, the minute he got down for breakfast, he looked at the feeder. “No birds there.” He was a little dejected. He hemmed and hawed at the crumpet on his breakfast plate. It was the perfect evil mom moment. “Chip, if you eat your breakfast, the birds will come and eat their breakfast too!” Chip found that logic to be impeccable. He gobbled down the crumpet and drank his juice. And lo behold. At that instant, a cute red breasted robin sat on the feeder and feasted on the birdseed. He flew away and returned with two more of his friends. Chip was delighted and looked at his mother with a new found respect. “I ate my breakfast and that’s why the birds came to eat theirs. Wow, Aie.” He was beaming. And awe-struck. Relieved, I said a silent prayer convinced somewhere out there is a guardian angel for all moms. Even for the sometime evil ones.

Out of sorts

It has been a rough week in the kingdom of DotMom. I have been down with a horrible sinusitis. It is so bad that I feel my eyeballs are going to just pop out. But, no I won’t bore you with my tales of cold and sinuses and nasal drips. I shall bore you with tales of Chip. These are not amusing tales. Far from it. These are the tales when a mother throws up her hands in the air and howls for providence to rescue her. OK. I am exaggerating here. But hey, I am a blogger.

On the issue of Chip. Chip has been out of sorts since we got back from our trip in India. And he had good excuses too – jetlag, stomach bug, cold, getting back into a boring routine. But since all that is behind us now, there are really no more excuses left as to why he is so cranky and tantrummy and most importantly, very unfriendly towards BigGeek. He refuses to let BigGeek brush his teeth, run his bath, warm his milk, put on his clothes, feed him breakfast. The first sentence out of his mouth when he wakes up is “Are you going to office?” When I reply with a yes, he insists I dress him and feed and drop him to school (which if I do, he simply clings to me and cries and refuses to let go)

Even during bedtime Chip refuses to go near BigGeek. If Chip is asleep and BigGeek happenes to stroke his forehead or give him a kiss, Chip stirs and says he doesn’t want Baba. Only Aie. Even when he is half asleep. I have tried to ignore this thinking it’s a phase. He had a very anti-Aie phase when he was about 18mo. But never this long. I am at a loss what to do. He is cranky too. All the time. There are tears for everything. Coming back home after play, asking him to finish his dinner, bathtime. I asked his teacher if he has been acting out in school and she said no. I have asked him if he is unhappy with something, but I don’t know if he can quite express it yet. Last night I asked why he doesn’t like Baba, he said it is because Baba has thorns and he pushes me. What???? The thorn bit is obviously from the times when I have asked in exasperation – “Does Baba have thorns?” And obviously Baba has never pushed him. Baba rarely yells at him. I am the stricter parent. So it’s all very perplexing and annoying. I don’t know if this is truly a phase and it will all sort itself. Or if I need to do something to help. But I don’t know what to do.

Better late than never

Apya and Bubbu tagged Chip. This tag is so long overdue, its not even funny. I have been down with a mother of all colds, so blogging has been super-light. Will resume when the wretched virus has let go of its congestive clasp. But here's this for now.

8 Things I am passionate about (right now):
1. Lawn mowers
2. HVAC Units
3. Pressure Washers
4. Tractor trailers
5. Giant Pandas
6. Dumpers
7. Back hoes
8. Airplanes

8 Things I do that drives My Mom crazy (Just 8??)
1. Assume later = no. Make a big fuss about it.
2. Eat a few bites of breakfast/dinner and then twist Aie's arm to narrate endless stories about one of the above things I am passionate about, changing location and characters. All the while forgetting to eat.
3. Tell the overhead light fixture in the foyer to not fall on my head. Or to scold me. About two dozen times a day.
4. Make strange connections. E.g. when Aie tells me the above mentioned light fixture is not a person, I ask if it is a pizza. (Aie is not making this up)
5. Assume any black, semi-circular object is a nipple. Pronounce the fact loudly in stores.
6. Make my own plans and throw a tantrum when they don’t come to fruition. E.g. I will wake up from my nap and tell Aie I plan to go to a friend’s house. I will further more decide I will wear my jeans and take my truck. When the plan does not materialize because I have forgotten to check with Aie dearest if the family has plans for the evening, I dissolve in a crying heap on the floor.
7. Throw tantrum when Aie says no. (this deserves a post of its own)
8. Did I mention run, run, run. Everywhere?

8 Things that I say often:
1. Are we going out right now?
2. Are you happy, Aie?
3. I am tired of eating this.
4. That means no [insert object/meal/activity] for Chip.
5. Yay!!
6. Thank you
7. I am not happy, Aie (when my plans are thwarted)
8. Will Baba fix it?

8 Books that I have read:
1. Goodnight Moon
2. Silly Dilly Duck
3. Best friends in the snow
4. Elmo’s Easy as ABC
5. Winnie-the-pooh
6. Autumn Leaves
7. Big Book of Airplanes
8. Big Book Of Trucks

8 Things that make me the person I am:
1. Boundless Energy
2. Endless Persistence
3. Gentle Affection
4. Slapstick Humor
5. Curiosity about how things work
6. Love of Nature
7. Hard rock / prog metal fan
8. Intense

8 things I have said or done this week to crack my family up:
1. To my father while driving-“Drive with both your hands on the wheel.”
2. Set a table properly when asked to and immediately collect dishes and play with them.
3. Get very, very worried because the Roomba is stuck under the table and can’t find a way out.
4. Stick my hand into the hollow of a speaker and pretend for about 10 minutes it is stuck badly, to the point Aie has almost called a fireman to come and get it out. Then laugh silly.
5. Stand in the middle of the road in a parking lot to wave to passing cars in acknowledgement of them stopping to let me cross. But cross the road I won’t. I just stand and raise my hand.
6. Enter a grocery store and head over to the water melons and plonk one in the cart. Then head over to the bananas and get a bunch, then pasta, then the olive bar. You get the picture. Ah. But I do pick a bottle of very expensive wine for my parents.
7. Refuse to speak in English with the neighbors, insisting they speak in Marathi.
8. After Aie steps out to use the restrooms in his daycare ask in a very loud voice– “Did you finish peeing, Aie?”

Two Tired

I am glad I am done with the morning. What started as yet another boring, hour long, commute to work went quite the other way. I was on the interstate cruising after what seemed like an eternity of bumper-to-bumper traffic when I hit a small piece of something black. A piece of shredded tire, I thought. Or something like that. I hate these flotsam and jetsam on the road – especially interstate. But this was a piece of something soft and it was around a bend so I could not see it clearly even I wanted to avoid it. But I couldn’t avoid it and drove over it. A minute later a strange clanking sound started to come from the car. Portentous metal grinding. I thought the little black piece was caught somewhere. I drove for a few yards and felt the car drag. I pulled over to the shoulder- the left shoulder as I was in the left lane - to take a look. It was chilly and windy and I stepped out to the cars whizzing by. The driver’s side seemed ok. No flat tires there. I tried to get over to the passenger’s side, but with cards going at 65mph+, I could scarcely get a view.

Okay, I said to myself. Time to take the car over to the right shoulder. The flashers were on and I slowly eased into the fast lane. I could still sense a drag and I didn’t want my rims damaged if this was indeed a flat so I was going at about 20mph trying to cross four lanes to get to the right shoulder. When I see this b**** in a yellow truck honking. And honking and honking. And honking. Complete with hands up in the air and mouthing what must have been expletives. I can’t lip read. I know we all get annoyed with fender benders or cars suddenly breaking down in the middle of the road, but honking is not going get anyone anywhere. What’s the point in honking? But only if her IQ was as developed. Only if. Anyway, I found a spot in the traffic and eased my way, flashers on, to the right shoulder where I got down and saw I had a flat.

Now what does a modern, independent woman of the 21st century do when she has a flat? Call her husband, of course. BigGeek was dropping off Chip to daycare when I called him. He offered to come over and help me change the tire but it would have taken him 40 minutes to reach the point where I was stranded. Not to mention 40 minutes to get back to work. “Call AAA” he suggested. Our membership had expired over year ago and we had not renewed it thinking we had two new cars that were well maintained. “They might charge you a fee for the service but at least someone will come over. I called AAA but I had to renew my membership for someone to come change my flat. Ten minutes later I called BigGeek and told him to not come over as help was coming in about 40 minutes. I chatted a bit with him lamenting that this did not get me my 2 second of spotlight on the local traffic coverage on the radio station. Nobody rubber necking to see what the matter was. No cop pulled over next to me. I was being so ignored. But then a tow truck pulled up. I was perplexed that AAA had sent in a tow truck. They tow away a car because of a flat? The driver got down and beckoned me. Odd. I stepped out of the car. “Is there something wrong with your car?” he was asking. “I have a flat.”I said. “Do you need help changing it?” “No thank you. Help is on the way.” “I could help.” “Yeah, but I already called AAA.” “Oh! Good then. I am not AAA. I was driving by and saw your car with the flashers on and stopped to see if you needed help.” Now I want to think he was a Good Samaritan but since he had a tow truck I also suspect he wanted to make a quick buck. This is what happens when you live in a big metro area. You refuse to believe in the inherent kindness of another human. Sure sucks.

But the AAA guy came soon after and changed my flat. Which is so easy really. I should have done it myself. Could have done it myself. Only I wouldn’t do it myself. Fear gripped me and I chose to pay $94 and wait for a better part of an hour than change a flat tire. My father, if he is reading this is slapping his forehead with the palm of his hand. He told me I HAD to learn how to change a flat before I could drive. And I know how to change a flat. Or at least used to know. Haven’t changed one in over a decade. Oh well. It was cold and I was in fancy shoes and had no gloves or a hat or a heavy jacket that would have allowed me to work in the “elements”. At least that’s my story and I am sticking to it.

And a simple flat it turned out not to be. My tire was shredded. Not just the flat one. But also another one in front of it. I called BigGeek. “What do I do?” He thought I was best with getting new tires right away at the nearest tire store. Before I put any significant mileage on the unflat shredded one and the one that was freshly replaced with the spare donut. He, being my right hand man, quickly found a Tire Kingdom 4 miles away and the address was punched into my GPS, its soothing robotic voice guiding my frazzled brain to rescue. It took 75 minutes and $432 to get new tires installed. And yeah, this time I said “no” to all the extra things they wanted to do to my car. But, ack. What an expensive morning it turned out to be! (Who can I sue? :P )

03/29/2008

Never has a date looked so inviting. Never have I waited with bated breath for something so much. Perhaps Chip’s arrival would be the only other thing I can think of. On the little fabric board next to my desk at work is a piece of paper. A calendar actually. With some dates blacked out. Mostly weekends, some whole weeks. For almost two years I have stared at this bit of paper, my eyes transfixed on this one date. March 29, 2008. And not just because it was the day BigGeek turned 34 (Happy Birthday, honey). But because he’s done. With his MBA classes. All done. Finished. Finito. I had saved writing this post for the day he actually graduated. Which is the middle of May. But I can’t contain myself. I am happy and relieved and teary and many other things.

What started as a 22 month executive program in one of the nation’s top Universities was not unsurprisingly, a grueling boot camp with a workload demanding enough to make the most dedicated student break out in sweat. With a demanding job, a demanding toddler, a demanding health and a wife who was not exactly an understanding one, not 24/7 at any rate, and other demanding issues too personal to mention here, he did it. I have always called him fondly as my Rock of Gibraltar, never thinking or rather never hoping his mettle would be tested thusly as it has been in the past two years. And for that he deserves more than an MBA degree.

When BigGeek was accepted at this school and started his classes on June 21, 2006, Chip had barely started to walk. Two years seemed like a long way ahead. “By the time BigGeek graduates, Chip would have started to talk.” I would often say to myself in awe. It seemed like such a long two years then. And in some ways, they were. What started as a minor inconveniences – loosing BigGeek on some weekends and then slowly on most weekday evenings, became one trying game of jugglery. It’s hard to sandwich a life and a job between study group meetings, zillions of cases to read, assignments, online lessons, on grounds sessions day after day without a break. It was hard work. Really, really hard work and while he enjoyed the classes and shared the camaraderie of his classmates, he had no respite. He is relieved now, as his weekday evenings and weekends look enticingly empty, but there is going to be a part of him that misses the carefree time he had when he was on-grounds at school.

The last month had been a fitting finale to our crazy lives. BigGeek left for India on a business trip on Feb.14, got back on Feb 26, went to school Feb 29 to March 1. Chip and I left for India on March 1, BigGeek left for China on March 4, he got back home on March 15, Chip and I got back home on March 19, he went back to school from March 23-29. I am sure I lost you all somewhere in mid-March. But all that is history and thankfully so. As I made breakfast this morning, I felt a sense of lightness and relief I haven’t felt in a long time. I don’t know if good tidings will come our way this year, I certainly pray and wish they do, but we have one happy graduate-to-be amongst us. And that is good enough for me.