it was the prayers…

thank you everyone of you. everyone who commented. everyone who emailed me. everyone who
sent a prayer for our family.
didnt realise how you guys have become such a crucial part of my life…? er. when did this happen?

**

things are getting much, much better…

today’s update according to the doctor: firstborn has a “mild dengue”, but what he really has is “mycoplasma pneumonia”

no. i havent freaked out.

i am happy. I SOSed my dad. And he is here. and things can only go right now that he’s around…

plus. after four days of 101 and 102, the thermometer touched the golden 98.6.

only firstborn was disappointed…”i want to have high fever. Grandpa will leave if i get better…”

going insane…

with worry.

firstborn has dengue.

kitty party — 55 er

so you have a penthouse. and your cutlery shone. and your recipes were really your own. your son is a mensa. and your daughter had a 36-hour normal delivery. while attending a CFO meet. you look 34. And have never been botoxed. Everything was perfect.

If only you hadn’t worn your salwar inside out.

tagged

by Abirami the smartassbride. thank you thank you…for l’awarde

a few tags ago, i used to be scared of tags and the introspection.
this one was easy, though.

***
three things i love about me…

heirloom:
Strange how I thought I would never put this down on a list. Considering how often I have dreamed about one impulsive visit to the salon. To have it all chopped off.

At 31, away from home and ma. I now look at my hair differently. As a heirloom er hairloom. Once maintained oiled, shikakaid, towel-dried, fan-dried and sambraneed by my grandma and my ma…

High Maintenance is all upto me. My hair which is really a heavy thick rope that’s about three feet long. Falls well below my ample hips… Takes 40 minutes to comb.
. One hour to wash. And three hours to dry.
The combing and the tangles and the split-ends and the graying…isn’t the pretty part.

But strangely it’s now a part of me that I love

**
think f.a.s.t
the ideas comes in a trice. synapses fire. whir of emotion. blur of outside world. my eyes are bright. there’s another. now five. now fifteen. choose.

**
think s.l.o.w.

Children, generally speaking, were never my superspeciality.
Heck. They weren’t even my subspeciality. In fact. they bored me, tired me and puzzled me.

I am an only child. Happiest in the company of elders.

And I was surprised to find that motherhood/ raising children is s.l.o.w in so many ways.
Almost five years into this job, i am surprised that I have accepted that somethings take their time. i am patient enough to watch my kids grow (even though I have wanted to rush back to my workplace screaming “No need to pay me. I’ll pay you!”)

i understand their pace is different. that they dont have patience to watch me finish my book. to wait till a handmade craft dries.
i dont have the patience to fill a bag full of water/sippy cups/diapers/ snack/ plaything etc just to go to the neighbour’s house; or to wait for a toddler to outgrow thumbsucking or a preschooler to learn math with carryover in less than a day.

I am proud to have slowly learned not to hurry.

***

passed to three non- bloggers viz: M, Reva and sub. Please use this space to do the tags. I love non-bloggers who comment. I think you guys are really brave.

poop post

baby param did number 2 on the floor. and my neighbour’s little 8-year-old rushed in to help with the clean-up.

She even thoughtfully opened the bathroom door and switched on the light.
**
flashback: me. as an 8-year-old confronted with a friendly neighbourhood toddler’s poop = edge away s.l.ow.ly backwards pretending I never saw anything.

***
firstborn’s idea of helping with the cleanup = switching off the bathroom light

remember that chappie?

from an earlier post
who thought the MMMiM looked like SRK?

This time i think the chappie went too far ( and I am persuaded it was the same chappie )

darkest day of our married life in Malaysia…

was today.

The MMMiM has figured how to get IPL live on the laptop.

dont want to get married …

firstborn: “I dont want to get married because getting married means wearing a garland.”
me: actually, getting married means staying with a person you love.
firstborn: then i want to grow up and get married to grandpa.

**

amitabh bachchan is leaving for KL today. he’s a fellow blogger, i know. but i dont think i am bothering about a blogsmeet. he’ll have to move the laundry off the sofa to take a seat. not quite what he’s used to… i think

puthandu vazthukkal and rajinikanth

to strike off starry’s bucket list:

cooked lunch for 20 people.
filled with my favourite foods…
rasam as starter.
idli, sambar, pudina chutney and fried dal chutney.
tomato rice and lemon rice. and a salad raitha.
and four litres of milk thickened into two litres of payasammmmmmm.
**
hosted a game where all the non-Hindi speakers had to clearly say this verse “Pallandu Pallandu Pallaaayirathaandu …” after i taught it them four times. The tamil-speaking half was in splits.

**
another game where all the non-Tamil mother tongue people had to list the number of Tamil words they knew. The one who listed the most would win. One hopeful tried to pass of Rajinikanth and Rambha as Tamil words.

***
Pooped. Brain isnt recognising if this is an email to my ma. or is this a new post on wordpress. Er? which one is it?

stories that finish in a line. thought up two…

Mysore next, they agreed. Only she came.

**

Feminist columnist. scared of her husband.