we have an entry…

all we need is a contest.

shruti!

photoframe.
phew!

this is the entry for your soon-to-be-held (hint hint) contest using only ‘raw materials from trees’

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one way to spot…

…if your almost 5 year old has high expectations for his 21-month old frequently-monosyllabled toddlerbrother .

firstborn to baby param during playtime: say ‘inhabitants’
**

10 minutes away…

a young couple committed suicide, after poisioning their 2 year old. they live 10- minute drive away from my home.

they were from mumbai. they moved in only a month ago…here’s the news item

**
just now, i read a news report that the couple were “despondent because their child was mentally retarded” and therefore took the extreme step.
***
very disturbing
and very sad

firstborn is down with a case of …

… of neighbour’s envy.

“Ma. How can A (firstborn’s friend in the school van) burp for such a long time, even before he has had his food?”

sambar 2.1

the b.f.f to me on phone from Canada:

“first restructure your sentences with motherly love and then give me updates about the kiddies…”

**

one-week-old trivia filed and retained for AJ, who loves these things. apparently Lord Kama’s bow was made of sugarcane and his bowstring = a row of bees. AJ. if you already knew that.. hmpf.

**
friend chances on a few doodles i made on a paper months ago. “Did you write this when you were very troubled?” Blown away by her guess. Spot on. She’s now ex-friend. Upgraded to soulmate.

the ripple-effect post

this simple post was like a tag. the words sat in my subconscious for a bit.

and today:

~ I gave XXXRinggit to a struggling family hit by a crisis (I planned to do this eight days ago and didnt.)

~ And bought a round of juice and icecream for a team of sweepers in our apartment. they sweep and mop 18 floors, the lift, the car park and the garden.

Thank you swaram …

40 bloggers who really count

appeared here on timesonline

if they had done 41 bloggers who really count, this blog may have made it.

one. two. three. four.five.six. seven.eight.nine.ten.
(still doubtful? here’s 7+11 = 19. there. a shining star in the ‘counting’ dept. no?)

sambar version 2.0

conversation between two 4.y.olds that i wish i hadnt overhead.

kid 1. “i can dig your nose for you if you want…
kid 2. “no i can dig your nose for you if you want.”

**
after the n+1th ‘are you pregnant’ question?
i hit the gym. i lay down on something that looks like a 3-foot slide. and i couldnt get off. it seemed too risky. the 45 degree incline. so i lay there and did all the other exercises in my head.

a sambar of a post

first with a neat rhymey wish from PV for mother’s day

Dear MiM
Decided to wish you on a Whim
Hope your cup of joy is full to the brim
With FB, Param and the MMMiM
**
I wanted to send her a rhymey wish right back. but i’m stuck. what rhymes with PV?
TV. Peevey.
So i just said thank you. thank you PV🙂
**

Minal passed on a tag. Going through that… I am aghast at how utterly blameless my life has been. Pathetic. I am as interesting as a towel. In fact. I am as interesting as firstborn’s discarded yellow sock that’s two years old. Sheesh.

*Wipes tears off, with aforementioned towel.*
**I could wipe em off with aforementioned yellow sock, but the sock isn’t cottony soft**

***

we are playing musicalchair fevers these days. baby param, in deference to our buying a new thermometer, is giving us value for money.

***
And my ma. has begun sending me fwds. it used to be a thinkpiece from the economist, an article from hoot.org. etc
today it’s quotable quotes from vijayakanth’s english dialogue (i dunno if it appeared in a movie):

“U can bcome an engineer if u study in
engineering college. U cannot become a president if
u study in Presidency College”

with that i know… the kathiri summer is getting to her.

mother’s pride…

is when baby param throws his half-licked lollipop in the dustbin. I am pleased. I think: the kid knows to reject what’s bad for him. He’s showing un-MiM like restraint in the hard-boiled sweets department. I am proud.

an hour passes.
firstborn shrieks for me.

I run to the kitchen to see baby param who has retrieved the very same lollipop from the dustbin (filled with the dregs of yesterday’s rasam, a veggie chucked out of the fridge without the mmmim’s knowledge, puli stones, onion peels, rotten onion peels, smelly rotten onion peels… )

and the kid is giving the very same lollipop another loving lick.