It’s all done and over with. The old couch has been freecycled. The new one delivered, and set up. The family room furniture has been shuffled. The room looks nice and big. I was so caught in the logistics of it all, that I simply did not realize that the couch put on freecycle was the first thing EVER BigGeek and I bought together. More than five years ago. Five and a half to be precise. We had moved into our own apartment in a fancy neighborhood. The apartment was quite bare. BigGeek’s old stuff had been all trashed. I didn’t have much, I was still a student. We had to fill a whole apartment. Where do you start? The Couch. Young and just starting out, we headed out to IKEA. The heaven of cheap furniture. I love IKEA. No, make that WE love IKEA and will continue to do so until we can afford $8000 couches from fancy Scandinavian or Italian furniture stores.
Trying to pick a piece of furniture (or China) together can be an eye opener, compared to say, a date. So, on that first trip to IKEA, we discussed our tastes. We both loved modern, minimalist furniture. Sharp, clean edges, no frou-frou. So that was easy. I liked bold colors, he liked natural. I can buy a scarlet red couch in a heartbeat, he won’t even look at it. We both settled on a leather couch. He preferred the big comfy one. I wanted the nice sleek one. Couches are like shoes. Comfy ones are almost always ugly. He wanted black, I wanted red or orange or something bright. After what turned out to be a bitter battle that was a step away from being acrimonious, I gave in and we bought the sleek leather couch in black. The couch was delivered a few days later and it looked so nice. Sleek and shiny. Very modern. Just like us. It fit just so in our apartment. Such carefree days they were. The couch was the first of our firsts and we knew that.
The couch did not let us down. It weathered coffee spills and TV dinners and sandwich crumbs and crazy parties and cozy get-togethers. It followed us when we bought our first home and became the mainstay of our family room. Many movies were seen sitting on it. Many wonderful discussions had. Many fights and many talks. Many fears aired and many hopes shared. Chip napped on it as a baby, climbed on it as a toddler. He learned to jump from it and learnt to do a flip to explore behind it.
Despite all these memories, I don’t miss the couch. Which is strange for a person like me who is capable of missing everything and anything. I miss time zones when we travel or change clocks during Spring and Fall. I just long for the old time. It wasn’t until the nice freecyclers were carrying out the couch that it dawned on me. Here were three men carrying away our first ever material possession bought together and I really didn’t care. The couch had truly moved on to the freecyclers music room.
When we bought the couch five and half years ago, I never imagined me where I am today. I really don’t know what I thought I was going to be in five and half years. A wife, yes. A mother, yes. But there were no textures. It was all a dreamy, hazy blur. I definitely got more than what I bargained for in some ways, less in other. But such is life. And as we settled down on the couch yesterday, me, BigGeek, my mom and Chip, a thought crossed my mind. Where would I find this couch and where would the couch find me five and a half years from now?
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
On the Couch
Monday, November 19, 2007
Tagged - What Women Want
The inimitable Parul has dared me. So here it is.
1.How do you feel after a one night stand?
Quite Yogic.
2. Do you ever get used to wearing a thong?
What’s a thong?
3. Does it hurt?
Then I am glad I don’t know what it is :-)
4. Do you know when you are acting crazy?
No. But helpful people often point that out.
5. Does size really matter?
Bank Account, Portfolio, yes.
6. When the bill comes are you still a feminist?
Absolutely not. What century are you living in?
7. Why do you take so long to get ready?
Huh? Time is relative. Go read your Einstein while I do my hair.
8. Do you watch porn, too?
Is it rated PG-13 now? I thought that wouldn’t happen for another 20 years at least.
9. Will something from Tiffany's solve everything?
Hmmm. Yes. Coupled with something from Burberry’s. Throw in a Chanel while you are at it. Let those be your magic words.
10. Are guys as big of a mystery to you as you are to us?
Yes, you are actually. For instance we can never figure out why you need the new XBOX 360 or the Wii when you have played on the old one six times in the last 3 years. Or why you need to have 3 drawers full of cables. Or why you need to make a trip to Microcenter and Radioshack everyweek. Or why you have 16000 drill bits.
11. Why do you sometimes think you look fat?
The mirror turns on us, sometimes. And the answer is No. Always.
12. Why are you always late?
You are early.
13. Does it bother you when we scratch?
Nope. But it sure makes for a hilarious sight watching your 2 yr old toddler imitate you unwittingly.
14. Do you wish you could pee standing up?
Will it make you feel better if we say so?
15. Why do so many women cut their hair short as soon as they get married?
To give company to your balding pate.
16. How often do you think about sex?
Male or Female?
17. What do you think of women who sleep with guys on the first date?
Old fashioned.
18. Would you?
Would I what?
19. Do you realize every guy wants a girl just like his mom?
Then why do you look at our moms to determine how we will look 25 years hence? Huh?
20. Why does every woman think she can change him?
We don’t just think we can, we do :-)
21. Does it matter what car I drive?
As long as it doesn’t mess my hair and you don’t talk about it nineteen to a dozen.
22. Do you ever fart?
Only in obnoxious company. Otherwise only with my brain.
So who should I pass this on to? Hmm? CeeKay, Boo, Moppet's mom. Your turn now.
Edited: answer to Q10.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Sixty and Counting
My Dad turns 60 today. Which means he has seen 720 moons. Full moons that is. And Roughly. This figure has not been corrected for leap years, cloudy nights or the evenings when my Dad simply did not want to go see the moon. But you get my idea. Anyhoo. In my family, we always say that my Dad arrived from another planet. There is no doubt about that. Some, actually many, say he came from the Planet of Saints or the Planet of Highly Ethical and Moral Beings (this planet is very sparsely populated) or the Federation of the Extremely Patient Souls (I think he was the sole occupant of that one). Are you shaking your heads and are saying, Naah? These planets don’t really exist? Well, they must. Which other person, in his boyhood would brink back veggies for dinner on the way home from school with the few paisa his mother gave him for a treat in the school canteen? Or never break a teacup or volunteer to put his baby brother down for a nap or pacify the said younger brother when he demanded fancy firecrackers which was an ill-afforded luxury at that point? Certainly not someone from this planet. No way.
But such is the old Dad. No pun intended. And I have known him for more than half of his life now. Wow. That’s a milestone for me too. So let’s trace back some father daughter history and marvel how on earth he managed to retain those four strands of hair on his head.
Age 4: Wow. My Dad knows everything there is to know.
Age 7: My Dad is never wrong.
Age 10: Those who disagree with him are complete loosers. Then again, he might not know everything there is to know. The world is huge.
Age 14: I can’t believe the man in that mismatched outfit is my Dad.
Age 17: He just doesn’t understand ANYTHING.
Age 20: He is such a looser. He needs a life.
Age 24: It’s amazing how much he has grown in the past few years. He actually understands what I say.
Age 27: He is an alright bloke, really.
Age 30: Hmm.. let me send him an email about what he thinks of this.
Age 32: What would he do? Let me talk to him before I decide anything.
So there. We are coming to a full circle! Happy, Birthday Baba. We plan to embarrass you with an obscenely huge party when you visit us over the Christmas Holidays.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Man on the Moon
“Aie, I want to bas (sit) on moon.” Chip declares in his Minglish from his vantage point. The mother, Chip and I are returning home after getting Chip’s mop trimmed to civilized standards. It is only six in the evening, but it is already quite dark and Chip, has been following the glowing crescent in the sky as we head home. Every time Chip sees the moon, he wants to sit on it. This has been happening for a few months now. The first time he said it, I was overcome with joy. My son, the astronaut. Going to the moon and mars and beyond. Thrilling.
But then, when this started to happen several times every evening, the novelty soon faded and I tried to make deals with him for a trip to the moon. “You want to go on the moon, Chip?” I would ask. “Yes.” He would reply. “Then, you have to stop crying when you go to school. They don’t allow crying kids on the moon.” He would cry, in the morning anyway, telling me he did not want the school and he did not want to sit on the moon. “You want to go on the moon, Chip?” I would ask later in the evening. “Yes.” He would reply. “Then, you have to stop doing poo-poo in the diapers. They don’t have diapers on moon.” But he would still do poo-poo in his diapers and repeat “No, diapee on moon, Aie?” When I finally realized, my tactic was not working very well, I decided to tell him the truth. . “You want to go on the moon, Chip?” I asked. “Yes.” Chip replied. “Then you have to go to the school, then to college, then to NASA and then you can go to the moon.”
When chip mentions the moon on quiet evenings like these, I inevitably remember the incident I have been trying so hard to forget. Chip’s fascination with the moon can border on the slightly loony. Well, sometimes anyway, if not always. This summer, the mother, the father, Chip and I went to the Udvar-Hazy Air and Space Museum. This was Chip’s first trip and he was fascinated with the airplanes. After having examined them in detail, we went down to see the space flights, among them the mighty Space Shuttle. I told Chip this airplane went to the moon.* That was a mistake. A huge mistake. Chip darted towards the massive Space Shuttle. Following his heels, I managed to grab him just as he was about to dive under the barricade. “Chip, not this airplane, but airplanes like this can take you to the moon.” I chided. But he would not hear of it. He wrestled with me and threw a full blown tantrum, turning heads as he loudly proclaimed in broken English, “I want moon, I want airplane moon.” My mother and I tried to pacify him, he was so hell bent on going inside the space shuttle, I decided to take him home while my parents enjoyed the museum in peace. While we were sorting our things amidst Chip’s angry mayhem, my mother, what in hindsight would turn out to be another mistake, gave him his little toy car in the hope of pacifying him. But the furious Chip, took the car and hurled it with full force at the Space Shuttle. I completely froze as I saw the little piece of metal flying towards the prized shuttle. Fortunately, the car missed the shuttle and the bystanders. I apologized to whoever was in sight and ran with the screaming toddler out of the museum.
He has grown up since that incident. Has mellowed down a bit. Is open to reason. “How do you get to the moon, Chip?” I am asking him as we speed down the dark road. “Shalaa (school), college, NASA, mag(then) moon.” He replies in a pat. It’s a long road, but he doesn’t know that yet.
*aside: When I narrated this incident to BigGeek that day, he stared at me in horror. Only to say this in his supreme geekiness, “You told him the Space Shuttle goes to the moon? You know it goes only to the International Space Station, don't you? Now only if they could find a way to build an elevator from here to the space station, space flights to the moon would require much less energy. You should read Fountains of Paradise in which Clarke…..”
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Ties that Bind
Sujatha of Blogpourri sent this article (Return to India: One family’s journey to America and back) by Shobha Narayan my way a few days ago. She has, since then also put it on her website. The article is a little long, but makes for an interesting read. I have caught Shoba’s columns over at Livemint now and then, so this article was read with much interest. After all, decisions like the one she made cannot be easy and I was curious to the thought process behind it. She traced her past in the article–her days as a student, a young wife and a mother and the transformation each stage of life brought in her perspective. It’s an interesting read even if I fail to understand or rather fail to empathize many of her arguments of wanting to return to India. Like- Americans eat sweet foods for breakfast and Desis eat savory. But I should not judge personal statements like these. Each one of us has our own perspective that feels just right. Our little rights and wrongs. We all have our priorities. Little things like these do matter. They do matter intensely to many, many others, even if they don’t matter much to me. So, moving on to what I thought was a much bigger issue in her article.
Shoba, while narrating her days as a new mother, says that the arrival of her first child (a daughter) changed her perspective dramatically. She found it hard to raise a well-adjusted child that would thrive equally well in the Indian culture at home and the American culture once she stepped outside the front door. The fact that her daughter would always be more at home in the American way of life bothered her. For Shoba, India was much, much closer to her heart than the US and understandably so. She toyed with the idea of returning to India and did throw it at her husband on occasion. Despite these doubts, she decided to become a U.S. citizen. And that peeves me.
Now, I don’t mean to sound all holier-than-thou, but I do take citizenships seriously. If you swear to owe allegiance to a country you better mean it. You have no choice when you are born a citizen of country X. That’s fate. But if you jump many hoops – visas, green card and such - to acquire citizenship of another country, you better think twice if your heart is indeed in it. It has to be a package deal. You cannot want to be a U.S. citizen simply because having a U.S. passport makes travel hassle-free. Or simply as a fall back incase you decide to live elsewhere (then why acquire citizenship if you have no desire of living here?) There have to be better reasons if you are going to be a citizen. You cannot be a citizen and criticize the American people with a “these people have no ___ [insert suitable anything].” Because you are one of them now. “These people” must turn into “We people.” Because now, you are Americans of Indian origin.
But people are complex and their emotions even more. So, yes, it is possible the citizenship was acquired with a different mindset which a decade later has changed dramatically. Yes, that’s possible. It’s possible to feel the tug of your ex-motherland and the intense desire to go back. Yes, that’s possible. So, what would an ethically minded person do in such a scenario? Go back to the ex-mother land, become its citizen once again. Citizenship is not a status symbol. How would you (assuming you are an Indian citizen) feel if some poor bloke from a tin-pot country came to India, made boatloads of money and became successful simply because India offered more opportunities than his own country did, criticized India and Indians incessantly as “them”, refused to assimilate, guarded his culture with an esoteric fervor, told his children to stay away from Indian culture and became a citizen only for “economic” reasons. How would you feel then?
Citizenships are the legal ties that bind. And should only follow once you are sufficiently invested in a country- her culture, her polity, her problems, her successes. I am amazed that people don’t take these things seriously. Or am I turning into an overreacting-over-the-board-jingoist fool?
Edited to add: Kodi's mom presents a nice view in the comments section. Do read.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Happy Diwali
I am in the weeds. Diwali is knocking loudly on the door and I am so behind everything. Last night BigGeek went down to our crawl space after dinner and got out the holiday lights. I strung lights on our hedge while BigGeek strung icicle lights on our eaves and then he connected all the wires and the timer and everything else. Chip kept saying he wanted to stay out for the night and not come home and to prove he meant it, got his truck and tried to ride it on the very, very dark and cold street. Do this boy know no fear? He got a time out for that and while being timed out, he found a few gold fish crackers in our camp chairs and ate them. So he got a time out within a timeout for doing that and he was not pleased. So he grabbed the bottle of concentrated car wash and poured it into the candle that had lit my Halloween pumpkin a few days ago. After sniffing his breath to make sure he hadn’t had a swig of the blue soap, he got a swat on the bottom and was taken inside to be put to bed. It was too late to make (baked) karanjis and chivda for today, so we had to contend with (baked) chakli and walnut-date laddoos this morning.
I had planned a nice foodie picture - all the fat-free Diwali goodies and a lamp and everything, but I guess that has to wait until the weekend and I hope we don’t gobble up the goodies by then. Add to the goodies chore is the fact I haven’t shopped at all for Diwali. I ordered some lacing beads and a doctor playset for Chip for Diwali but yet have to get something for all our friends and their kids who total to many, many people. And asking BigGeek for ideas does not help. He always gives me a “Oh. You will think of something. You always do.” Does he know how much work that is? Does he know? Does he? And I haven’t got anything for BigGeek. And he hasn’t gotten anything for me. Yet. BigGeek has always been exceptionally good at every Diwali (the Padwa) gifts. It has always been a very tasteful piece of jewelry. Always a wonderful surprise. But there is only so much jewelry you can buy and he hasn’t asked me what I want. Yet. (Is a knee length Burberry trench a bit much? I threw the word at him this morning and was met with a grunt) He has tried to get away this year saying his blood work (which came back nice) was a Diwali gift, but I ain’t buying it. So this is our Diwali update. Hope you all and all your loved ones are enjoying this delightful holiday. Happy Diwali and have a fanatabulous New Year.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
UnBooked
I have nothing to read. I have opened my book shelves and peered into their musty darkness, opened the bedside tables and rummaged around to see if a book was hiding itself. I have logged on to the Public Library Catalog and found nothing. Nothing at all. The minute BigGeek reads this, two words in font size 36 and font-weight bold are going to come to his mind. Liar’s Poker. He has been badgering me to read it - he finished it while convalescing – and I haven’t – haven’t convalesced and haven’t read it. Do ask me why. Because the reasons are quite complex and well, somewhat weird.
I crave books the way someone craves food. Remember that Tuesday when you wanted to eat the spicy Green Curry at that little hole in wall Thai restaurant? No other Green Curry quite does it then. Or the time when you simply had to have those itsy bitsy truffles at the fancy grocery store? Or the time, when you taste buds craved *something* but none of the familiar foods even came close to describing what you really wanted to eat? Ever felt that way? I feel the same way about books. If I want to read some thing like H2G2, P.G.Wodehouse won’t cut it. Right now, I don’t feel like reading Liar’s Poker. Or Dune. Or any Larry Niven. Or… Many weeks ago, I started to read Naipual’s Bend in the River, but got sidetracked and the book has since been cast away. And I have a terrible record to trying to read cast-away books. There is Swann’s Way lying somewhere – the last I saw it was when Chip would open it everyday and try to read from it and the hounded me to tell him the story.
But I don’t feel like Naipual or Proust. All I want to read is something that is pleasant, a little amusing, no make that very amusing, laugh out loud insightful, nice prose, not very long, but not a novella or a bunch of short stories – they would just seem very unsatisfying right about now. Something with a touch of sci-fi or exotic history or both. Something a little familiar, but obviously something new. Definitely fiction, hopefully literary. I want the print version of going to a familiar and much loved restaurant and finding a new dish on the menu that sounds interesting and when you taste it, you go – “Ahhhh. This is heaven.”
So, tell me what are you reading? I want to borrow it. That is if it fits into the not-so-fine-print stated above!
Monday, November 5, 2007
Not Sew Easy
For all the other wonderful things I am, I am not a seamstress. I have a hard time fixing a loose button, or sewing over lose seams or hemming pretty dinner napkins. Just can’t do it. This may not seem much of deal really, but it is a huge irony. My grandmother, had she been born some sixty years after she did would have been a fashion designer. Her cutting and swing skills are hard to match. Not to mention the embroidery. She has painstakingly made tapestry like “paintings” - embroidering with single stands of silk floss to that reflect detailed scenes of a family of tigers in the jungle and another idyllic scene with peacocks. She went on to opening a small boutique with her daughter in law. Then comes the mother who, if they had college degrees for tatting and crocheting would have earned multiple Phd.s. She is constantly giving me elaborate table runners and coasters made in such detail, it would require an electron microscope to truly appreciate all the intricacy. I obviously am very scared of using them and have been thinking of framing and putting them up.
So, on that background, I am a complete looser. I remember almost four years ago, overcome by motherly intentions, when my best friend was having a baby, I decided to get a sewing machine. I wanted a simple one. The one that could, well, stitch and was powered electrically. Singer, perhaps? I mean weren’t they the only guys that made sewing machines? No, I think Brother made them too. BigGeek said, Husqvarna. Husq-what? I hadn’t even heard of the name. It must have been a well guarded secret that they knew only in underground sewing circles. How the hell did BigGeek know it?
So, off we went to look at sewing machines. Every store we went to, there was utter sexism at work. All the store associates would come up to me and try and sell me a particular machine using words like, tension, bobbin, stitch length, auto-fix, foot. And then, with one tongue firmly in cheek I would explain to them, I had no idea how to sew, my husband would be using the machine more than I would. On hearing that some salespeople would slip away, the braver ones would try and sell the machine to BigGeek.
So, in the end, days after days going to the big box stores and sewing equipment boutiques and cellars, BigGeek decided to shell big bucks and buy the Husqvarna, despite my many protests. We went home with the beauty; I went to a fabric store the next day to buy some fabric to make cushion covers which turned out to be totally lousy. In my utter exhilaration, I ordered yards and yard of fabric – red fleece, green flannel with cute clowns, blue and white polka dots, green cotton with turtles on it and batting; I had just discovered batting and was thrilled to throw such words around – you know, oh I ordered a couple of yards of batting. Polyester or cotton? Someone-who-obviously-knew-more-about-batting would ask me There. Just when I thought I was a step away from the underground sewing circles, they throw this at me.
And so the days passed. My friend had her baby, I gave her a store bought layette because there simply aren’t patterns even for newborns that don’t involve stitching around a curve. Yeah, I am that bad. And then I became pregnant, and I secretly hoped it would be a girl. Simply because I had seen a pattern for a strappy, summery toddler dress that involved stitching only in straight lines. I had no courage to even attempt to sew a romper or a pajama if it turned out to be a boy. The fabrics I bought stayed at the bottom of the linen closet. I had only sewed a pair of curtains for the nursery and a covers for two chairs. I tried to do a baby blanket complete with batting for another friend with the help of visiting SIL, but she gave me the third degree because my straight stitches were too wiggly and she made me rip them again and again till I got it right. In the end, she ended up sewing the blanket, but we ran out of ribbon to do the edging and the blanket has been languishing with the fabrics at the bottom of the closet.
But all that has changed now. When I was complaining this weekend to the MIL about how expensive Chip’s pajamas were here and how he goes through 2 of them everyday, I remembered the green flannel with clowns on it. Can we turn them into pajamas? I asked the MIL. Pajamas are the easiest things in the world, she told me. I want to learn, I want to learn. I said, not jumping up and down. So she cut one, while I cut the other, she sewed one while I sewed the other. The result was quite pleasing – the MIL’s pajama fit better than mine, but Chip isn’t complaining.
Friday, November 2, 2007
Spell Bound
Halloween has come and gone, a great deal of posts written about it, and most, much to my surprise not quite pro-Halloween. And the reasons range from candy excess to the will-be-worn-only-once costume expense, knocking on people’s doors, even the odd post how the modern day Halloween has strayed away from its original intentions. All quite valid concerns, but in my opinion, very much misplaced. Let’s take them one by one.
Candy Excess: This also falls under childhood obesity, tooth problems. But it doesn’t have to be too much candy. When Chip went trick or treating this year, I told him he could get only one candy from each house. As soon as the door opened, he would say “Trick or Treat” or “Happy Halloween” and caution the gentleman/lady with an “Only one candy” when they offered him the bowl. I saw many kids grab candy by the handfuls while their parents watched on and didn’t say a word. The parents can set limits and should. And more importantly, if sweet things are a problem, every holiday and festivity needs to be altered since they are all celebrated with sweets, no point in singling out Halloween.
The Costume: Costumes can be found from $1 to $100. I have bought a costume for Chip from the dollar store when he was a baby (a ladybug). Last year his costume (a devil) cost $10, this year (the scarecrow) cost $15. I look at it as going to the petting zoo or Starbucks. You don’t really need to spend $10-$15 to see cows and sheep and pigs for a couple hours, but it can be a lot of fun. Just like the $6 Venti caramel macchiato. You can go without it, but you can indulge once in a while and it does taste really good even if it over in 15 minutes. Many people do costume swaps, wear hand me downs. For those in the US, try freecycle.org. Also, you can craft costumes at home from a couple of boxes, trash bags, toilet paper, bed sheets. Just go online and you can find a bunch of ideas. You don’t have to spend a fortune. And even if you do, the costume will be worn many times during dress up and play. At least those who are 5 and above, the costume is worn 20 times before Halloween and will give some amusement on snowy/rainy weekends.
Knocking on Strange doors: Many people are not comfortable doing that? Apparently. And I don’t understand why. If there is a pumpkin at the door, trick-or-treaters are welcome. And if you are scared (and not just in the Halloween way) at who lives in the house on your street, you have more problems on your hand than just Halloween. I look at this as a great way to overcome shyness. I used to be a shy child and Chip can be too, so this is a great exercise for us. The costume and the lure of the candy gives courage. The lines are the same everywhere, so no ice-breakers needed. You say please and thankyous, learn to wait your turn if there are a bunch of kids at the door, learn to compliment the house owners on the fab decorations.
Straying away from Halloween’s Origins: It was a festival to honor the dead – the day before All Saints Day. And you can still honor the dead if you want. Tell your children about how it originated. Trace its history. It can be a fun lesson. No reason to not go trick or treating later in the evening!
As as you can tell, I like Halloween. This year a scarecrow, a mermaid and a tinker bell chaperoned by a corporate witch and a lady vampire went trick or treating. And what a treat it was. We saw giant spiders, intricately carved pumpkins, happy ghosts swaying in the wind, went into strobe lit caves with scary noises and skulls and bones and monsters, bumped into skeletons and bats. And we met such interesting characters on the way. A small Darth vader, one batman and riddler, two princesses, a knight, a confederate soldier, a ghoul, a mummy, a cat and another tinkerbell with lights in her wings. A truly magical night it was. And later, after the tired but excited scarecrow and the corporate witch got home, two very cute princesses knocked on our door, curtsied and commented on how nice the decorations were, took a candy each and left.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Parting Shot
It was the second time this week Chip pulled this maneuver successfully. It’s a simple tactic on the face of it. But it takes a man of undaunting sprit with a fearless desire to take on extreme challenges despite prior knowledge of dreadful consequences in its wake. Or, a two year old. The first time Chip pulled his toddler version of the shock and awe, his poor, unsuspecting grandmother was yes, shocked and indeed awed and she gave Chip a sound earful, which given her rather gentle and soft voice, did not do much do discourage Chip. So, he tried it again on his very suspecting mother last night.
The notoriously difficult to potty train Chip has been doing pretty good the past few days, and that meant mostly whispering his intent to answer the nature’s call, grown-up in earshot or not. Yesterday I was within the hearing range of the said murmur. Elated, we proceeded upstairs to “his” bathroom amidst joyous chorus of “Chip is a big boy”, “Wow. Chip just told me had to go do poo-poo” – you know the step right before you start garlanding him and lying prostrate in his path to seek blessings.
The call having been answered and the news conveyed over the (toy) phone sitting on the potty to the ‘other’ grandmom, Elmo, neighbor’s dog, the moon, the shower head, the lion on the shower curtain, his sundry friends and the new school, we were ready to wrap it up. Now, we are the green sort of people and try not to use paper where water can be used. So while I was filling ‘the’ every-desi-household-has-one plastic mug, Chip ran away. Before I realized what had happened, he was in the guest bedroom, across the hall standing on his grandmother’s bed. Panic reigned. “Get down now!” I thundered in my most ominous voice. “Now. Get down.” Chip was obviously having too much fun. I stepped into the room to grab him but like a well-oiled monkey he jumped away to the far corner of the bed and sat on his haunches. The bed a mere half an inch away from his tushie. Taking cover of the shadows, I slithered behind him and picked him up to carry him to the bathroom, but my poopy samurai would still not concede defeat. In one swift move he was back on the floor amidst my high pitched screams blurting every threat known to mankind. That had its effect. Chip froze. Time stood still. And then Chip did the unthinkable. He stuck two fingers of both his hands in the place where the sun don’t shine. Half-dragging him to the bathroom to clean him up, I said, “You are getting a swat on the bottom for this. Wait till you have washed your bottom and hands.”
Tush and hands cleaned, bottom swatted, eyes filled with tears and the tiny yet powerful voicebox emitting loud protests, I sat him down. “Why do you do these things Chip?” I asked in my most motherly voice. “Are you out of your mind?” I said tapping his head. Chip peered into the semi-darkness. Twinkle had returned to his waterlogged eyes. “Aie,” he said throwing his arms around me, plopping in my lap and tapping his own head, “Ithe batate (potatoes here).”
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Pumpkinville 2007
The local petting zoo hosts a pumpkinville every year. Free Apples, free cider, free popcorn.
And as you can tell, I am out of ideas to post.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Babel On
So yesterday, BigGeek, the MIL, Chip and the exalted self were getting a family oil change. The cars. Not us. The onboard computer showed 5% oil life (isn’t this like a video game?), so a magic potion had to be sought with haste before we could reach the next level and beat all the bad devils of chores and get the reward – a nice Sunday afternoon spent napping. So at noon, feeling victorious after completing round one of errands, the foursome piled into a nearby Merchant’s armed with a coupon and what not, battled our way as the slick manager tried to sell us a $150 fantastic-new-service-without-which-your-car-will-not-make-another-mile.
And so it began. Not a big fan of oil changes, the MIL and self were trying to sneak out by ourselves to buy some tablecloths and other boring household items, leaving Chip with his dad and a store full of tires and extraordinary auto-equipment. But BigGeek would not hear about it. So while we fought over the merits of me taking Chip to a home store yet again, vs. Chip staying back to get a glimpse of the fantastic and hitherto unknown world of auto-maintenance and magical gadgetry, Chip wandered away to survey the wheel bases hung on the walls and to try and pull a few down to roll or climb them. Since Chip’s parents were fiercely raging a debate at the time, the manager took it upon himself and told Chip sternly he could not touch the wheels lest they fall on him. Chip, was obviously not happy with that and he is too well-bred to throw a tantrum on a complete stranger. He held himself (proud of you, son). But as soon as the manager turned his back and walked away, Chip could be heard saying, behind the manager’s back – “You be nice, you be nice, now!”
The horror. When will the boy learn to fear authority?
Thursday, October 25, 2007
/home
You know you dwell in the virtual more than the real when today happens. There was a time when a power outage meant all life stood to a standstill. Or at least we thought so. But times have changed and we are now in the 21st century and so network outage is the new power outage. We had a complete network blackout at work today. No access to any servers, email, the net. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. So, with literally *nothing* to do for almost an hour and a half, I decided to make a trip to the restrooms. As I stepped into the stall and I will spare you kind readers the details of the trip, a thought crept into the aging mind. With the complete network outage, how will the flush work?
Joy.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Many Masters
“I thought about you as I read these pages today.” My mother-in-law said smilingly as I stepped out onto the deck yesterday. I had just got home, given Chip his milk, peanuts, raisins, apple, milk again, juice (grape not apple), peanuts again. Finally getting tired of the game, I had given Chip an ultimatum, poured myself a glass of juice, helped myself to the Chivda the MIL had made and stepped out on the deck. The MIL was reading, or rather re-reading after a decade, Many Masters Many Lives, sitting on the swing, a cup of coffee in hand.
The MIL and I have many things in common and over the years have bonded over it. Astrology (I never cease to amaze, do I), spirituality, classical music, cooking, gardening, metaphysical phenomena. Which is not to say we are similar in personality. She is garrulous, I am the quiet sort. She thinks too much about what the extended family will think and say, me not at all, partly because I live half a globe from all that. She has tremendous amount of faith, and me? I don’t know. We are both married to hyper-rational geeks, the aloof, mind your own business types and we bond over that. I call her Kaku – which means Chachi/Auntie. Never called her mom, aie, or any other maternal terminology. And I was forthright about it. When BigGeek and I decided to get married, I should have started calling her something motherly, but I asked her if she would be OK with Kaku and she was. There is only one mother, I reasoned. The one that raises you. And she gracefully accepted that. Despite BigGeek’s aunts being shocked that she let me call her Kaku and not Aie. But I go off on a tangent here, but well not really, it’s important to get an idea of what the MIL is like.
Which pages, I wanted to know. She flipped back the pages. “It’s when Catherine talks about one of her lives while in the trance. The time when she was born in a Victorian period.” For five minutes the MIL read out a couple of pages to me. In them, Catherine talked about what she had learnt from that lifetime. She had learnt to have faith in the masters. She did not believe in them, not in that lifetime, she did not. But at the end of it she realized that had been her lesson. To have faith in the larger scheme of things.
This was very slightly uncanny. Because while reading the book, this is exactly what I thought my task for this life was. To learn to have faith. In the really bigger picture. The MIL has this faith. From where it stems from I know not. But through out this ordeal she has remained so calm that I have to admit I have questioned if she realized the seriousness of it all.“We don’t have masters (guru) in real life. I wish we did but we don’t. " She was telling me. Maybe these are our Masters, she said meaning the book’s author Brian Wiess.
I am definitely in a crisis of faith here. The MIL is happy not knowing all the answers. She is not bothered when her Whys go unanswered. She accepts that not all can be reasoned by the mind. The self, on the other hand, acknowledges that rational thought has its limits, but that conclusion, like a strange loop, is reached though logic. So, here I am, trying to break that loop and take a leap of faith. I just wish it wasn’t so damn hard.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
BigGeek Update: He had his first day of Cardiac Rehab and it went OK. The shoulder pain shifts from one to the other and into the neck and comes and goes. It’s wait and watch. I am praying it goes away soon.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
P.S. I know I am in a funk. I’ll be back to the old self in a few days.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Not Again
And just when you think you have fallen into a routine, providence strikes back again. We must have been awfully bad in our past lives. And no matter how much good we try to do here in this life is not enough and we must pay our pound of flesh. Or so it seems.
BigGeek had mild shoulder pain. Ordinarily it would not be something he would even give a second thought to. But of course since his heart attack which did not have your run of the mill symptoms (he had shoulder and back pain radiating to his arms, zero chest pain), every back and shoulder pain has the potential to be not what it seems. So off he went to the cardiologist with his mom, I met him there. The Nurse there did not think it was a cardiac issue, said to go to his GP incase it was muscular. So off we went to his GP who did an EKG.
While we waited for the doctor to return back.
BigGeek: the last time I was here when they did an EKG, all hell broke loose in 30 secs. One nurse put me on Oxygen, the other was calling 911.
Me: Yeah.. It’s way past 30 secs. now. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?
BigGeek: Yeah, I guess.
The doctor walked in. She said she was trying to get the most recent EKG from his cardiologist’s office. She compared the two, and did not think it was a cardiac issue. But ofcourse she could not be a 100% sure. If the pain grew worse or did not improve we were to go to the ER. So its wait and watch. The pain comes and goes. BigGeek is set to start Cardiac Rehab from tomorrow, so they will do a bunch of tests there anyways. Till then, I am crossing fingers.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Pay it forward
So, in all my excitement yesterday, I forgot to pass on noon's engagement stories tag. Noon has tagged a lot of you so I am going to tag the remainder. And I will give you the third degree if you do not comply and tell us all your engagement stories. We all love mush. So here goes.
Usha
Cee Kay
Parul
Utbt - no, you cannot escape. I saw your comment on kodi's mom's blog.
Moppet's mom
ItchingToWrite
Just Like That
Sue
choxbox
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
BigGeek and DotMom - The Movie II
Hi. This is YetToBeDotMom.
BigGeek
Sorry to keep you waiting. I was in the middle of something. Well, actually I was in the bathroom
YetToBeDotMom Voiceover
Hehehehe. What did I say. Well. He should know I did not call him.
YetToBeDotMom
No worries. You aunt called me. I really hate to intrude on a family Thanksgiving.
BigGeek
Not at all. Its just a lot of good food and drink and talk and good arguments. Did you have a good Thanksgiving?
YetToBeDotMom
Not too shabby. My cousin was visiting from California and we went to New York and watched a broadway show yesterday.
BigGeek
What did you see?
YetToBeDotMom
Le Miserables
BigGeek
I have seen Annie Get Your Gun. I would love to see the Phantom.
YetToBeDotMom
Me too! I booked these tickets two months ago and Phantom was still sold out. Can you believe it? Even the matinee.
Montage: BigGeek and YetToBeDotMom talking. Clock shows time.
YetToBeDotMom Voiceover
And so it started. He was so easy to talk to. He asked me what I was reading and I told him I was reading Godel, Escher Bach and was finding it quite daunting. He told me he had written to Hofstadter about a mistake in his book Fluid Concepts and Creative Analogies. Hofstadter had written back to him and had sent his student’s thesis. We both loved StarTrek and science fiction. We both loved freshly ground coffee. He was a metalhead, I wasn’t. I liked literary fiction, he didn’t.
BigGeek
So what courses are you taking this semester?
YetToBeDotMom
A couple of independent studies, advanced screen writing and artificial intelligence.
BigGeek
Quite an interesting mix. Doing the AI stuff in LISP?
YetToBeDotMom
Yeah, lots of parens.
A kid is heard in the background
He is still on the phone! He is still on the phone!
YetToBeDotMom
Are you driving back to Virginia today? You better get going. It will be past midnight by the time you get home.
BigGeek
Well..atleast there won’t be much traffic. Hey listen. Do you have any plans for Friday evening?
YetToBeDotMom
Not really.
YetToBeDotMom Voiceover
I can’t believe I said that. He sounds nice though.
BigGeek
Great. I can drive down to Philly. Anyway, we can figure out the logistics during the week. I’ll send you an email.
YetToBeDotMom
Ok. Sounds good. Drive safe.
3. INT. Fade to YetToBeDotMom’s office on campus. DAY
She is looking at an email that has arrived 1:30 am.
BigGeek Voiceover
Had a great time talking to you. Here is the email conversation between me and Hofstadter. Also attaching the thesis he sent me. Quite interesting. Send me directions/address when you get a chance.
4. EXT- Road at University Campus. –EVENING
YetToBeDotMom is crossing the road. She is in all black. Black sweater and black slacks. She crosses the road doing a small wave and peers through the window of a car parked outside.
YetToBeDotMom
(sitting inside the car) Hi!
BigGeek
Hi!
YetToBeDotMom
Had trouble getting here?
BigGeek
No, not really.
YetToBeDotMom
Let me get us to a parking lot and then I can show you around the campus.
BigGeek drives and pulls into a parking garage. They get out. It’s still quite windy. They get out and walk over the campus.
YetToBeDotMom VoiceOver
We went around the campus. He asked me if he could see some of my films sometime. I just laughed. I wasn’t enjoying the filmmaking so much at that point. The real reason for me taking a course in AI. It felt good to be in the quantifiable world again. I told him that.
Montage ends with BigGeek and DotMom in DotMom’s editing studio.
BigGeek
I know this great Thai place if you wanna catch dinner.
YetToBeDotMom
You know more about Philly than I do!
BigGeek
Actually the restaurant is in Arlington. Just outside DC. We can drive up there. It’s only a couple of hours. I can drive you back if you want.
YetToBeDotMomVoiceOver
Is he crazy? There are perfectly nice places to eat dinner in Philly. He doesn’t look like a playa’. Maybe he is? I better find out.
YetToBeDotMom
Actually I have a friend who lives in Fairfax. Let me call her and ask her if she and her husband can join us for dinner tonight. And can I give her your cell number? I disconnected mine this week since I am leaving on Thursday.
BigGeek
Ummm. Sure.
YetToBeDotMom disappears into another studio across the hall and dials her friend.
YetToBeDotMom
Hey.
N
Hey you! Didn’t you have a date today?
YetToBeDotMom
Yeah. Listen. He wants to eat dinner in Arlington. And I want you and R to join us.
N
Are you insane? Your date will murder me.
YetToBeDotMom
Pleaseeee. I told him it will be a double date.
N
Are you sure?
YetToBeDotMom
We are leaving now. Meet you at 8-ish? Here is his cell#.
N
Ok. Make that 8:30. R is flying in from Boston today. His flight gets in at 7:30.
YetToBeDotMom
OK. 8:30 then. Bye. Thanks. I owe you one.
N
Yes. You do.
YetToBeDotMom walks back to BigGeek.
YetToBeDotMom
OK. All done. We have a double date at 8:30 at ThaiPlace. R is flying in from Boston today.
BigGeek
Well.. they don’t have to come. I am not an axe-murderer you know (smiling)
YetToBeDotMom
Ofcourse not. I would not be in a car with you for two hours if I suspected so.
BigGeek and DotMom sit in the car and drive. Arial shots of highways, signs pointing to Washington DC. In car.
YetToBeDotMom Voice Over
Politics, gay rights, music, physics, filmmaking, hallmark holidays, video encoding algorithms, recreational drugs, Star Trek, movies, his job, the downturn.
BigGeek
It’s the same thing everywhere. Not very different where I work. My own job has a questionable future.
YetToBeDotMom
Friends I know are getting laid off right left and center. What will you do?
BigGeek
Don’t worry. Most people out there have just a skill to sell. I got talent.
DotMomVoiceOver
Either he is really stoic, or a complete dumbass who has no sense of reality. The market was quite bad. It was not easy to get a job in the biggest market downturn.
BigGeek
I have a couple of things lined up.
DotMomVoiceOver
It turned out to be such a short drive. But N did not call. We were near NiceThaiPlace and still no call from N.
YetToBeDotMom
Mind if I use your phone? Don’t know why N is not here yet.
BigGeek
Sure.
YetToBeDotMom
(dials. into the phone)
Where are you?
N
YetToBeDotMom! R’s flight got delayed. The tracker said 8:00, then 8:30 now it says 9:00. I would have come by myself if I did not have to go pick him up.
YetToBeDotMom
Why didn’t you call me before?
N
I did. Twice. Went to his voice mail. Didn’t want to leave a message. Why don’t you eat dinner and come spend the night with us?
YetToBeDotMom
OK. See you in a while.
YetToBeDotMom turns to BigGeek.
YetToBeDotMom
She said she called twice. R’s flight is delayed. Did you hear it ring?
BigGeek
Really? Let’s see. Oh! It was on vibrate and it was in the little pocket in the car door. That’s why we didn’t hear it. Sorry.
YetToBeDotMom
That’s ok. You will drop me to her apartment afterwards?
BigGeek
Absolutely.
DotMomVoiceOver
And so we ate and talked some. I wished him good luck on the job front. He dropped me off at N’s place. He called me on Tuesday while I was at my grad office.
BigGeek
(on phone)
I have some bad news. I just got laid off.
YetToBeDotMom
I am so sorry. You doing OK?
BigGeek
Yeah. It was sort of expected.
YetToBeDotMom
What will you do now?
BigGeek
I am going to go to a Steely Dan concert.
YetToBeDotMom Voiceover
Is this guy really insane? Is he not the least bit stressed?
YetToBeDotMom
I meant about your job
BigGeek
Don’t worry. I’ll have a job before you get back. And not just any job.
YetToBeDotMom Voiceover
I had friends who were unable to find a job for a few months. He was crazy.
YetToBeDotMom
Ok. Good luck.
BigGeek
Do you need a ride to the airport on Thursday? I can drive up and take you. It’s not like I have anything to do (chuckling)
YetToBeDotMom
No, don’t worry. A friend will give me a ride.
BigGeek
Are you sure? Call me if the friend can’t make it.
YetToBeDotMom
Yeah. Yeah. You take care. Call you later today.
YetToBeDotMom Voiceover
And so I left on Thursday. To go to India. BigGeek was a nice guy. The lack of his job did not bother me one bit, his lack of anxiety did though. When I reached Poona, my mom quizzed me about BigGeek. She obviously had a bunch of six-figure incomes and BMWs lined up for me. But I refused to meet any.
5. INT. YetToBeDotMom’s house in Poona. – Day
YetToBeDotMom's Mom
Just meet them.
YetToBeDotMom
No! I am not the three week wonder wedding type girl. I don’t understand such marriages.
YetToBeDotMom's Mom
Just meet them. They are all nice guys
YetToBeDotMom
I am sure they are, but I am not meeting them.
YetToBeDotMom Voiceover
And so the days passed. I wrote my exams, talked/IMed/emailed BigGeek. His old boss, a few friends and he had started a startup. And the time came for me to get back to Philly. My mom was disappointed that I had refused to meet a singe eligible bachelor. All her hopes I suppose were pinned on BigGeek now. But I wasn’t talking marriage. Finally on Jan 26 I landed in a snowy Philly. My friends had come to pick me up and it felt good to be with them. BigGeek was going to drive down for the weekend to visit. I had offered to ask my friend if he could crash in at her house, but he had declined. He had made reservations at a hotel downtown.
6. EXT. In car – Day.
BigGeek
No goodies for me from India?
YetToBeDotMom
Yikes. I am not unpacked yet. Need to find an apartment first.
BigGeek
You got a list of places you wanna see?
YetToBeDotMom
Yes.
YetToBeDotMom Voiceover
Much of Saturday was spent in hunting for a new apartment for me. Tired, we were wondering where to eat dinner, circling the City hall yet another time.
YetToBeDotMom
Need to go to the restroom
BigGeek
Ok. Lets go to the hotel. Atleast I’ll find parking there.
Turns to go into the hotel.
7. INT. Downtown Fancy Hotel – Evening
YetToBeDotMom
Let me ask the front desk
BigGeek
Just come up
YetToBeDotMom
Ok. Hope you are not on the thousandth floor
BigGeek
16th
8. Elevator door opens. BigGeek and DotMom walk towards BigGeek’s hotel room. BigGeek opens door.
9. BigGeek’s fancy Hotel Room – Evening
YetToBeDotMom comes out from the rest room.
YetToBeDotMom
Nice view you got there (looking at the skyline)
BigGeek
Yes, pretty isn’t it. (points to a chair). Sit.
YetToBeDotMom sits down. BigGeek sits close to her, on the bed. Freeze Frame.
YetToBeDotMom Voice over
Since this is a G-rated (not even PG-13 movie) I am not going to tell you what happened (no, it is not that). Suffice to say he said these words.
BigGeek
I know this is a little early, but will you marry me?
YetToBeDotMom
Yes!
Silence.
YetToBeDotMom
Where is the ring?
YetToBeDotMom Voiceover
The nice sized double brilliant diamond came three wakes later. And replaced the yellow elastic band I wore on my ring finger to tease him. On Valentines Day. But at midnight, as I was dead tired and ready to go to bed. Cranky because he had not made reservations anywhere and we had ended up eating a sandwich at Panera. He was trying to beat the Hallmark Holiday which he hated (and give me the ring on the 15th) and still does. But there were flowers and chocolates. And a proper proposal made down on one knee.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
BigGeek and DotMom - The Movie
The wonderful noon after having written a beautiful recount of her own engagement has tagged me to do the same. So here goes. It's a movie, mind y'all.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
YetToBeDotMom at her University. Its autumn. Windy. General shots of campus, students. YetToBeDotMom walking to her class, sitting in class, chatting with classmates, walking home late in the evening to her crummy apartment, cooking for herself and settling down with her pile of reading. The camera pans across the room, boxes and crates are half packed with apartment stuff.
YetToBeDotMom Voice Over
YetToBeDotMom
Listens to what her aunt is saying biting her fingernail.
YetToBeDotMom
Listens again.
YetToBeDotMom
Listening.
YetToBeDotMom
Sound of dial tone. Phone goes dead. YetToBeDotMom puts on Dire Straits and goes back to her packing.
2. INT. YetToBeDotMom‘s bed room – EVENING
Caption on screen says- ‘30 minutes later’. YetToBeDotMom is sitting on her bed rigidly, phone in hand.
YetToBeDotMom
Over the phone friendly FEMALE voice
YetToBeDotMom
Mrs. Nice Scientist
YetToBeDotMom
(listening)
YetToBeDotMom Voice Over
Mrs. Nice Scientist
YetToBeDotMom Voice Over
YetToBeDotMom
Mrs. Nice Scientist
YetToBeDotMom
YetToBeDotMomVoiceover
Mrs. Nice Scientist
YetToBeDotMomVoiceover
YetToBeDotMom
Mrs.Nice Scientist
YetToBeDotMom
YetToBeDotMomVoiceover
Mrs. Nice Scientist
Silence. More Silence.
YetToBeDotMomVoiceover
Nice Male voice on the phone
Monday, October 15, 2007
Helping Hand
For all the jokes about one’s neighbor, we have been fortunate. Not that our neighbors don’t have a have a sense of humor, most do, but we feel blessed to be living in a home surrounded by great neighbors. Choose your neighbor before you choose your home, so goes an Arabic saying and I am glad we did exactly that. When BigGeek and I were looking at houses, the agent showed us this one. The house was smaller than what we wanted, had no garage which again we wanted, but I was happy to see neighbors chatting and kids playing in the cul de sac. It was an older tree lined neighborhood that did not have that impersonal look of newer developments. One got the feeling one could ask a neighbor for a cup of sugar or call on them in an emergency when in these days and times most of us hardly even know who we live next to. And I am glad we moved here.
Small things. In February while BigGeek was away at school, my car got stuck in 2ft of ice (not snow) because the stupid ploughs piled up the snow and slush in front of our driveway in the middle of the night which froze completely by morning and which my stupider self thought I could go over. And got horribly stuck. It was early, most people had decided to stay home I thought. But the ever adventurous me got out the shovel yet again and began chipping at the ice wall but instead slipped and fell and hurt my jawbone so bad I was deaf for a day. M saw me do it through her kitchen window, and sent her teenaged son to help me (ah, how I longed for Chip to be high school) and then came another neighbor M1 and between them they had chipped the ice and got my car out. Later when A (more about V and A in a bit) heard the story, I got the third degree from him for not crossing the street and asking for help.
Big things. V and A live across the street. Their daughter T2 and Chip shared a nanny last year and we have been friends ever since. And now that BigGeek is still not up a 100%, V has been picking up Chip from home and dropping him off at daycare everyday. I know what a hassle that can be. She has two daughters to get ready and with two full time jobs there really is not a minute to spare. Also, when BigGeek had the heart attack we had just changed Chip's school, so Chip was still adjusting and drop off must have been harrowing. But they did it and still drop him everyday.
Last week, A came to pick up Chip instead of V. Chip was not ready and my MIL got so flustered that A (who she did not recognize immediately) was at the doorstep and Chip was not dressed, so without hesitation A helped her dress Chip. And they bring delicious soup. And care. A few days ago, Chip and I and my MIL went to the library to return long overdue books. BigGeek was still at work. When V came in she saw our driveway was empty. She called that instant to make sure everything was OK.
Hesiod once said -A bad neighbor is a misfortune, as much as a good one is a great blessing. I know the blessing part is right on, hopefully I will never have to be that unlucky to find out if the first bit is true.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Greener than thou
I was all set to do a post today about my wonderful neighbor V and A who have been helping so much during these past few weeks. I know V and A visit here occasionally, so apologies. I’ll do a post on you guys next week. Rage before praise.
Which brings me to the point of this post. Be warned, there is a rant coming up. And while I am at it, screw objectivity. Whoa. This is oddly liberating. As I was pulling into my work campus, I tuned to BBC World to know what’s going on with the world, but mostly to just amaze the security by not listening to loud hard rock for once, I caught a half-sentence. Something about Gore and the IPCC being awarded this year’s Nobel Peace Prize. This was as expected as Chip throwing a nuclear tantrum at the grocery store I suppose; with Gore’s film winning the Oscar and everything, and Climate Change the hot button topic of the century, but one, well, hopes against hope.
I don’t know what tortures me more. The fact that the guy who once claimed to have created the internet won the Nobel ( and I am not even going to go near the fact that Green Gore lives in a 10,000 sqft. mansion that uses energy like there is no tomorrow) or whether the folks over at the Norwegian Nobel Committee, in their haste, overlooked the immense controversy surrounding the Climate Change hypothesis. Coerced to pick, I will choose the latter.
Historically the Nobel Peace Prize has been awarded to folks resolving armed conflict. I am not going to be all nit picky about that definition, after all last year it was awarded to Muhammad Yunus and his micro-lending Grameen Bank, that allowed poorest of the poor a chance to be entrepreneurs and reduce poverty and strengthen third world economies. And that was fine by me. After all, micro lending is proven to work (see Kiva loans) and there are tangible effects that can be observed quantitatively. Not so with Climate Change.
Even if one believes the numbers- and I have a sinister feeling that is shared by many scientific journals that the numbers are exaggerated and doctored- it is hard to say what exactly causes global warming. Is this a normal variation in climate? After all, people have been recording temperatures and precipitation merely since the last century and in industrialized countries allone. There is no data available from say, sub Saharan Africa from 300 years ago. So, on the scale of things, things being the age of Earth and such, the data set is miniscule. Who was measuring carbon dioxide levels in 3000 B.C.? Not the Pandavas and the Kauravas.
Prove to me the sun is not shining 0.01% more brightly than it did say 500 years ago. Prove to me it is not related to the Earth’s geo-magnetic field is changing polarities. Convince me that this warming trend is something else than the warming the Earth has experienced since the last Ice Age. Prove to me this is not cyclic – periods of warming followed by periods of cooling and vice-versa.
Predicting climate is complex. The models are unreliable. There are so many variables and the physics is so dynamic and complex and perplexing that only approximate solutions can be gleaned. One computer model says one thing, the other can say something entirely conflicting. There is a lack of consensus. Meteorologists don’t even know how something as simple as cloud cover really works. The fact that cloud cover increases the ambient temperature in winter but decreases it in summer is one huge mystery to them. Predicting weather for the next weekend is more inaccurate than accurate. How many times have we seen them use this cover-all mysterious phrasing – partly cloudy with chances of rain. WTF? What the hell is THAT supposed to mean? It means if it is cloudy, they are right, if it is sunny, they are right, if it rains they are right, if it doesn’t they are right. Gets my goat every time.
It may be so that in another century, it will be proved beyond reasonable doubt that human activities have caused Climate Change. But to say so definitively now, while ignoring contradictory data is certainly bad science. And I am distraught to think that the Nobel Peace Prize has been awarded to folks that have been perpetuating what can only be a hypothesis at this point in time. This year’s Peace prize is politics at its worst.
Suggested Reading – State of Fear by Michael Crichton
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Our Song
Family Room 9:30 pm or so.
The room is painted in a deep wine red. Watercolors of a Parisian streetscape fill the wall on right, a huge poster of Monty Python fills the left. A black couch sits in front of the TV, a futon mattress with zillion cushions is spread under the Parisian streetscape. The TV is tuned to a music channel playing Red Hot Chilli Peppers. DotMom and BigGeek are watching TV, Chip is fast asleep besides them. BigGeek’s mother is sitting by Chip’s side, watching the shirtless guitarists on TV.
DotMom (suddenly remembering): What’s our song?
BigGeek: What song?
DotMom: What’s our song?
BigGeek: For what?
DotMom: What’s our song?
BigGeek: Who wants to know?
DotMom: What’s our song?
BigGeek: Depends on the time and place.
DotMom: What’s our song?
BigGeek: Depends on the mood too.
DotMom: What’s our song?
BigGeek: Paradigm Shift
DotMom (pauses): Why do you think Paradigm Shift is our song?
BigGeek: Because it has no lyrics
DotMom: Why did you pick a song with no lyrics as our song?
BigGeek: I made it up (turns to his mother) Not the song, the song is real, I made it up that it is our song.
DotMom: Why did you make it up?
BigGeek: Because you like it, I like it and it has no lyrics. And we listen to many songs.
DotMom:Out of the many songs we listen to, what is our song?
BigGeek: Paradigm Shift.
DotMom: OK.
DotMom and BigGeek go back to watching TV. Chip's poor grandmother has no idea what just happened. So enjoy Paradigm Shift.
Edited to add: Thus ends Kiran's Tag here
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Awarded
Thank you. You have been so very generous and charitable. Really. I admire GTN for her fortitude and her dry wit. She reminds me so much of myself sometimes. Maybe I should pay her a visit on one of my shrillion trips to CT. Moppet’s mom, I love your infectious spirit and your way with words. Very creative. Very clever. Always lifts my spirits.
And so passing Da Rockin’ Award to:
Kodi’s Mom : I admire her for her grace. She writes lucidly and is charmingly funny. Always reminds me of the very proper Victorian lady.
Parul : I admire her for her sarcastic, over the top wit. It is never overboard, never offensive and that I feel is such a difficult balance to maintain.
Sue: For her honesty. She speaks her mind and is not afraid of it. She does not even have a pen-name. She writes under her own. I admire her for that.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
The Dream tag
Many moons ago, DDMom tagged me to do list of my dreams (she, I think meant the variety you have when you are asleep, not the I-dream-of-being-very-rich-and-very-thin type). With circumstances being what they were in the Kingdom of DotMom, this tag slipped from her mind, but was caught just in time before it was forgotten in the unknown abyss of her dusty, cobwebby brain. So. I am not much of a dreamer. There were complex, vivid dreams in hi-def resolution and color when I was pregnant, but since then I don’t think I have fallen into whatever stage of sleep (REM, alpha, gamma and all that dull nomenclature) one needs to dream. Or maybe it’s my hormones. Who is to know? So I am going to narrate two of my dreams – one my oldest, the prophetic sort and the other one from 2 days ago. I will also provide, for your entertainment only, since you have been awesomely great readers and such, an interpretation of the dream a la dream interpretation sites* that have slightly more sophisticated algorithms than say, fortune cookies.
Dream 1 – The oracle appears to the DotMom
DotMom is not married. She is still a student, living in sin with BigGeek, mooching off of his princely salary. When one night a dream comes upon her. An adorable boy-child of 3 or 4 who looks a little like DotMom’s father, a little like her brother and a little like BigGeek stands on a footstool in a small bathroom. The boy is twisting and struggling, screaming and yelping, but BigGeek holds him still. In his other hand BigGeek carries a small toothbrush, brushing the boy’s teeth vigorously. DotMom enters – “Stop, stop his gums will bleed, his gums will bleed.” BigGeek strengthens his hold on the little boy and replies – “If I don’t, his teeth will fall, his teeth will fall.”
Six years later, this dream comes true.
What the Dream Interpreter thinks: Dreaming of Children shows DotMom’s innocence and her longing to look at life as a child and seeking to develop her self in new ways. The fact that she dreams of having a child with a man she is not yet married to is indicative of the guilt she feels about having him support her and denotes a desire to repay his kindness.
What DotMom thinks: She is mighty glad the dream came true.
Dream 2 – I dreamt this?
DotMom is married and has a kid whose father brushes his teeth with the same gentleness as a carpenter saws his wood. Her life is now devoid of dreams simply because her life is devoid of sleep. But suddenly one night, she dreams. Of being in India and being accosted out of the blue by a petite woman in a silk saree and a sleeveless blouse. DotMom knows this woman is a pediatrician. “Your child is malnourished” she says to DotMom. “Really? He is such a good eater though. Will eat a horse if that’s what is for dinner.” DotMom tells her. “I don’t think so.” Gosh. This pediatrician is adamant. DotMom, even in her dreams has decided that this does not merit a response, verbal in any case, so she raises an eyebrow slightly - a trick that always gains her the desired respect – with Chip at least. “He doesn’t eat enough carbohydrates.” He pediatricians proclaims smugly. DotMom is now slightly flustered. She looks at the meaty Chip and thinks there really is no way anyone can tell that. But secretly, she knows that Chip is the ultimate Atkins guy. He h-a-t-e-s carbs. “How can you tell” she shrieks at the maybe-she-is-a-wiccan-cum-quack-pediatrician. “Look at his ankles” she proclaims. “They are thin. Thin ankles mean he is not getting enough carbohydrates.”
What the dream interpreter thinks: Dreaming of ankles denotes support and direction. A friend is trying to help DotMom secretly. Difficulties followed by success. Dreaming of a doctor is indicative of mastery over many things and dreaming of children indicates a new beginning.
What DoMom thinks: They know Chip won’t eat carbs and are coming for us.
* http://petrix.com/dreams/
I think almost everybody has done this tag. Passing this tag to the new mom blog by Shobana. Also Gauri, MadMomma, Noon tell me your dreams. And yes, do ignore if you have been there done it.
Tower of Babel
“Aie, Look! It’s a bitch.” I don’t think there is a faster to grab any mother’s attention than a statement like this. Here I was on a lazy Sunday morning. Having eaten breakfast, enjoying the cappuccino delicioso made lovingly (and excruciatingly slowly) by BigGeek, reading Joel Achenbach’s achingly funny article in the Washington Post, sprawled on the couch. Ditto BigGeek on couch #2, but going through Best Buy and Circuit City flyers and Chip dear playing with his duplo blocks. “It’s a bitch, Aie” Chip is shouting excitedly, repeating himself, incase I hadn’t heard him the first time.
“A bitch?” Where in the sweet God’s name did he pick this word from from? Thousand thoughts arise. School, neighbor fighting with her ex, BigGeek, not me- I don’t cuss, must tell his teacher, the TV, how can BigGeek read without a care while his 2 yr old is cussing? Chip is holding up a structure made with his blocks that suspiciously looks like a tower. “Whoa. What a nice tower!” I say. “No, no tower, Aie. It’s a bitch.” Hmm. Maybe they are teaching pairs in school – horse-mare, bull-cow, that sort of a thing. So I decide to play along. “Where is the doggy’s tail?” I ask Chip. He is in deep thought. His little brow creased, lips pursed, one hand on his hip, the other holding his “bitch”. No, doggy sheput (tail) Aie.” He lets out a sigh. “It’s a bitch”. He runs away grabs his one of his shrillion little cars and comes to me. “It’s a car bitch Aie. Zoom, zoom.” The car files over the tower. Ah. I relax. It’s a bridge. B-R-I-D-G-E.
Friday, October 5, 2007
Fall Begone
Where is the fall this year? I am asking. Hell, I think everybody is asking that question around where I live. It’s October already. The time when leaves turn into golden yellows and fiery reds and mellow oranges. There is a nip in the air. Vapor condenses as you chat with your neighbor, wearing a soft fleece jacket. I had these visions last fall. Of me and BigGeek and Chip in Fall of 2007. Raking leaves on the back lawn while Chip dives into them sending them flying everywhere. But of course mommy dear and daddy dearest don’t get all upset simply because an hour or two of hard work is going down the drain (no, that’s wrong. Going up in the air- that sounds better, no?) They join him, in slow motion - Chip, DotMom and BigGeek, arms up in the air, leaves falling by everywhere, wearing turtlenecks and flannel plaids in autumn-y colors, the sun setting on a quiet Saturday evening, mulled cider in steaming cups that stays miraculously warm for hours while we kick up our heels in the backyard without a care. Now rewind. Pause. And look at this scene through a lens fitted with a soft filter – now you see my vision of a puuurfect family, don’t you.
And it doesn’t end here. Sunday morning DotMom sneaks out of bed to make blueberry pancakes with golden butter (cholesterol issues here, ok golden BENECOL then) and grade A dark amber maple syrup (oh, how I love thee) washed down with a cup of perfectly brewed cappuccino. BigGeek and Chip come down the stairs, again in slow motion and soft filter, no sumo wrestling today to brush Chip’s teeth and dig into the pancakey goodness and then we all get dressed in the latest autumn fashion and drive to the pumpkin patch.
Ah. So was my Fall 2007 going to be. All planned in the Fall of 2006. But nature, as it is often known to do, has thwarted my carefully planned weekends. Fall is nowhere to be seen. A few weeks ago, I was fretting about having zero fall clothes. If I only knew the atrocious and down right ugly fall clothes the stores are selling this season - tunics in jersey fabric that cannot get any thinner and short sweaters with puffy sleeves. On me? No. Thankyouverymuch. Does nobody wear twinsets anymore? I would have happily worn my full-of-pills-sweaters and baggy t-shirts that I have long since purged. Only if I had known.
But I digress. Coming back to Fall or the lack there of. I am still wearing my nautical themed sailor’s golf shirt and capris. Chip is still wearing his shorts and t-shirts that are so tight now, he winces trying to get in or out of them. The temperature in the morning is still in its 70’s and by noon we are still hitting upper-80s. The leaves are still green and in places are simply withering to a dusty brown because of the rainless summer this year. No nice fall colors this year.
I like Fall. A lot. I like Spring too. I don’t care much for dog days of Summer and I like Winter only up until the New Year after which is gets very boringandcoldanddarkandgrayandsnowy. My love for nature is absolutely conditional.
My parents are going to Montréal this coming long weekend. To see the fall colors. The days there are nice and crisp, with a slight chill. Just like the perfect apple you bite into. And here we are. Stuck in a balmy October in our tanks and shorts, waiting for a real fall day to go to the pumpkin patch. Oh! Fall, where art thou?
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Nothing to fear, but fear
This is about Chip. It’s been a while since I have done a Chip-exclusive post and this would be a fitting sequel to my other bizarre post. Chip was a colicky, asthmatic baby and he was so hurting most of the time, he did not have any energy to bond with strangers. All that has changed and he is quite the Mr.Friendly to everyone now except a really good friend.
Let’s give him an alphabet – S. S is a great guy. Soft spoken, gentle even. Great with kids. S is married to P – a wonderfully sweet and caring woman who also has a great sense of style. S and P are really good friends. But S and Chip don’t get along. Well, if there was an Understatement of the Century Award, this line just won it. Chip is terrified of S. And we don’t know why. If P is visiting alone, he will go to her, talk to her, and show her his toys all the time keeping an eye out for S. If they both or S visits by himself, all hell breaks loose.
Last year, BigGeek was recovering from a torn ACL in his knee when S and P stopped by to visit. They arrived riding on a motorcycle. Chip, Chip’s Nanny and I were pottering around in the garden when the motorcycle pulled in. Chip was happy to see a motorcycle, but as soon as S took of his helmet, Chip started to shake with fear. S had experienced Chip’s wrath many, many times before so he slunk away and did not make eye contact. P and I followed him inside the house but Chip refused to come inside with us. It had started to rain, so the nanny took my car keys and spent 20 mins. inside the car with Chip, who, she later told me, was not playing, instead buried his face into her lap and trembled as she talked to him softly. This is not an isolated incident. This happens, in varying intensities, every time we meet S.
Another curious incident happened when S and P moved into a bigger house a few months ago and threw a house warming party. S kept away from Chip. Chip was playing with the other kids, drinking juice. Suddenly a terrified shriek rose from Chip. I suspected he had run into S. But S was no where in sight. I looked around and saw a few friends and another well-dressed guy who I had not met before. He looked faintly familiar and Chip was looking at him and howling and trembling. The poor man looked puzzled and embarrassed. I apologized to him, and whisked the shrieking Chip away. Moments later it dawned on me, that the strange man was S’s older brother visiting from NYC, when S’s mother who witnessed the scene, was stunned. She knew about S and Chip but S and his brother don’t look very similar. She drew Chip towards her, hugged him and asked smilingly and in jest – “What have my sons done to you?”
In an effort to help him grow out of his fear, I asked P for a picture of both of them that I could show Chip from time to time. Last week she brought one and I put it at Chip’s eve level on the fridge. Didn’t say anything to him. He didn’t realize the picture was there until the next morning.
Chip (pointing to the picture): P- mawshi (P aunty)
Me: Yes.. that’s P-mawshi. Who else is in the picture?
Chip’s body goes slightly tense as he stares at the man in the picture, then relaxes.
Chip: Z-kaka? (Z uncle)
Me: Is that really Z-kaka? Look again.
Chip looks again.
Chip: K-Kaka (K- uncle)
Me: No! that’s not K-kaka. That’s S-kaka.
Chip is terrified.
Chip: No S-kaka, No S-kaka
He runs away.
A few minutes later he returns to the fridge and pushes the framed photo up on the fridge away from his eye level.
The next day we go through the same drill and Chip finally tells me that it is a picture of S-kaka. A few minutes later, he stands on his tip-toes, gets the picture and puts it on the kitchen counter. “Aie, S-kaka nako” (I don’t want S- kaka).
Often I have asked, in jest, to S, if he bullied my son in a past life. Looking at Chip when S is around, you get a distinct feeling that Chip knows S and as he clings tightly to my shirt and won’t take his gaze off S, I often wonder if he is trying to remember something.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
BigGeek Returns
I am fretting as BigGeek returns to work today. Only for a few hours. He will be driving alone for the first time after his lil adventure and it’s very hard to refrain myself from calling him every 5 minutes. But baby him I shall not. He still has to undergo Cardiac Rehab before he resumes his regular routine. For a man who is used to going at 60mph with his work and school he has been grinding to a near halt the past couple of weeks. This bothers him. He was supposed to go to China later this month for a school trip and he obviously cannot go now (he tried convincing the doctor yesterday, but thank god the doctor was adamant). This bothers him. And I feel his pain. But this too shall pass.
On a related note, I just read Cheney’s history of heart troubles. First heart attack at 37, two more and a quadruple bypass before he turned fifty, a stent procedure later. I don’t know if he has a pacemaker. None of this has slowed him down. I sent the link to BigGeek - he has such tremendous admiration for Cheney already.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Tagged
I have been tagged by Timepass to do a tag to list one fact related to my life for every letter of my middle name. My middle name is my maiden name and I don’t want to give it away and relinquish my semi-anonymous superhero second life. So, I choose BigGeek as my middle name.
The three rules to be followed are:a) The rules must be mentioned in the beginning of the tag.b) You must list one fact that is somehow relevant to your life for each letter of your middle name. If you don’t have a middle name, use the middle name you would have liked to have had.c) At the end of your blog post, you need to choose one person for each letter of your middle name to tag. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
B – Benign
To borrow a term from Douglas Adam’s H2G2 - I am mostly harmless. But try pushing me too hard and too far and you will unleash the unrelenting, sarcastic monster.
I – Introspective
And not in the right doses. It’s good to look within now and then, but I do it with a strange compulsion. I am quite narcissistic that way.
G – Garrulous
I was a shy child, so my ability to strike up a conversation in an elevator makes me quite proud of myself now.
G – Go the extra mile
I try to do this. Everywhere. Especially in relationships.
E – Enthusiastic.
When I was in school, this is what my teachers called me. I am still like that and can’t seem to help it especially when I get all trippy over small things and when others look on with what can only be described as a sophisticated nonchalance. Ah. How I long to have that. But no.
E – Escape routes
I have an exit strategy for every situation. That is the first thing I think of when making a big decision. Do I have an escape route? Of course there are no escape routes to a few (and very important) things in life and that annoys me.
K – Karma-believer.
I believe in karma. What goes around comes around. In this life or next.
I am going to ignore the 3rd rule (simply because I don’t know that many bloggers)
So I tag Kodi’s mom, Moppett’s Mom, Tharini, Altoid, Swati, Something to Say, Mystic Margarita, mnamma.
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