tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32987947194200016162024-03-14T07:02:36.488+05:30Hello Mommyhood !Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.comBlogger108125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-9201993058157588592021-02-02T15:00:00.001+05:302021-02-02T15:00:32.132+05:30Bombay Pao Bhaji Or A Quick & Delish Way To Get Your Kids To Eat Veggies!<p>It's a drab Monday evening and that dreaded question looms in the air: "What should I cook for dinner?"</p><p>"No idea" pat comes the husband's standard response. (One of these days I'm going to pan fry a 'No idea' and serve it to the man just like those many internet memes I've seen floating around. Pah!)</p><p>"Something interesting Mom!"</p><p>"Not boring roti, sabzi, daal puhleeeez!"</p><p>Well, at least the kids are more forthcoming in their replies. To be honest, I'm not in the mood for roti, sabzi, daal myself. I scour the fridge for ingredients, hoping inspiration will strike. What a mess! There are some sorry looking small brinjals floating around, looking at me accusingly for excluding them from the achari baingan medley that was cooked up last week. There're also two lonesome carrots, half a head of cabbage, one bell pepper, some celery.....I sigh and turn my head to the right when it suddenly hits me! Inspiration! It's staring me right in the face! A packet of Kohinoor pav bhaji masala beams back at me cheerily. Of course! The perfect way to get rid of all the bits and bobs floating around in the fridge and get the kids to eat their veggies while we're at it. Purrrfection!</p><p>What's more, the quintessential Mumbai style pao bhaji is a breeze to whip up and does away with the need for making rotis which I....well, let's just say, don't particularly fancy. Here's my easy, breezy Mumbaiya pao bhaji recipe:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Chop up all the lonesome looking veggies in the fridge, especially those in ones and twos that you know are not going to get eaten otherwise. I used up the brinjal, carrots, cabbage, some potatoes to add to the mix, and even a little sliver of pumpkin (hah!) left over from my pumpkin pie experiment last week. Steam in a pressure cooker, cool and mash</li><li>Finely chop some onion, ginger, garlic (add more if you like your bhaji with a nice garlicky flavour) and tomatoes. Take some oil and a generous blob of butter if you like and sauté all of the above till nicely done.</li><li>I then added some finely chopped bell pepper and celery that I also had floating around, sautéed it for a bit, and then added the mashed veggies from step one. Add in a sprinkle of turmeric, red chilli powder, pao bhaji masala and chaat masala. Mash everything together nicely, add two small cups of water and let it all simmer for about 15 minutes, while stirring occasionally. Garnish with fresh chopped coriander and a squeeze of lemon juice.</li></ul><div>Done! Fridge clean up accomplished and happy kids and husband licking their plates. And they even ate and relished all the veggies that they normally wouldn't touch with a barge pole. Bwahahahaha.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhqFbpusqPvNyefWjF0hgfmHxLJWicsRpTUvgVN9iUeFvvhJ_Uan6H-W6CcK93_5B4dAQq6kb5EVwd0F0F9dgdfgWvVX148ZByZWeSO7ISQ1c5vZUMjkssRuprSlOXcVj3Cfr6zmCr6L4/s2048/Mumbai+street+food+pav+bhaji+recipe.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1534" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhqFbpusqPvNyefWjF0hgfmHxLJWicsRpTUvgVN9iUeFvvhJ_Uan6H-W6CcK93_5B4dAQq6kb5EVwd0F0F9dgdfgWvVX148ZByZWeSO7ISQ1c5vZUMjkssRuprSlOXcVj3Cfr6zmCr6L4/s320/Mumbai+street+food+pav+bhaji+recipe.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PC: Umesh Soni @unsplash.com</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>It was SO good I didn't even get a chance to click a picture before the troops gobbled it all up and had to source one from the net instead. Hmph. Reminder to self: next time round, plate and click in the kitchen before serving it up to the fam.</div><div><br /></div><div>Any other pav bhaji fans out there? Give me a holler!</div><div><br /></div><p></p>Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com0Mumbai, Maharashtra, India19.0759837 72.8776559-9.2342501361788472 37.721405899999993 47.386217536178847 108.0339059tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-15589601008597493592020-11-06T16:12:00.003+05:302020-11-06T16:45:28.662+05:30 Sandy Snack-O-Wich (A sandwich of Russian descent)<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><i><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;">What do you do when your 6 year old is missing his grandparents something terrible? Why, you make sandwiches of course!</span></i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; white-space: pre-wrap;">So the 6 year old was missing the grandparents today and the usual video call chat just didn't seem to be enough. We brainstormed a bit and decided a joint activity which could be done virtually might just do the trick. How about cooking suggested the 6yo, who is quite the young chef in the making. Some more brainstorming on no-fire cooking ideas and the concept of Sandy Snack-O-Wich was born!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">The dining table was transformed into a tech-savvy zone with the laptop </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">positioned</span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> at a strategic angle, and ingredients were assembled for these super healthy cheese, chutney, packed-with-veggies sandwiches. </span></span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">While my mom and the 11yo chatted, my dad and the 6yo made these sandwiches together. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">The powers of imagination and creativity were unleashed and they came up with this cool concept of sandwiches that aren't just </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">healthy</span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> and good to eat, but also look like the </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">creators</span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">! Grandpa and grandson made the exact same sandwiches- one that looks like the 6yo and one that looks like Grandpa😃😃😃</span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-family: verdana; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Can you guess which one is Grandpa and which one is the young 'un?</i></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib3djrW5iHrtipnAzOdP-aSwSKES8pEJzM6f7B5cuOKZyNa484aOMU0icUy4SE5FDMNILhTLsugzHrd8C4AqkwXleOXeBShaJG1u6DfWSZgTAYtmNDW0EDvrp7kP8Lidr35WUGqy9mr9A/s2048/20201001_205309_0000.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib3djrW5iHrtipnAzOdP-aSwSKES8pEJzM6f7B5cuOKZyNa484aOMU0icUy4SE5FDMNILhTLsugzHrd8C4AqkwXleOXeBShaJG1u6DfWSZgTAYtmNDW0EDvrp7kP8Lidr35WUGqy9mr9A/s320/20201001_205309_0000.png" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga1p4Kw1gCjy8XGQ7QvsKu3SJ3soAjfENwzy0Hh_0I5ZLtyIQnuiVORjsMpB9JU2uuRhVGbIYbc4uzlMi607xf8TMBcYXrLqbWmM7vTkbyLJoUKQWVlzh8xmQAfC65qno4qbl_eSDfJic/s2048/20201001_205414_0000.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga1p4Kw1gCjy8XGQ7QvsKu3SJ3soAjfENwzy0Hh_0I5ZLtyIQnuiVORjsMpB9JU2uuRhVGbIYbc4uzlMi607xf8TMBcYXrLqbWmM7vTkbyLJoUKQWVlzh8xmQAfC65qno4qbl_eSDfJic/s320/20201001_205414_0000.png" /></a></div><br /></span><p></p><p><span><span style="font-family: verdana; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sandy Snack-O-Wich was such a huge success that a paean had to be written in its honour:</span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-family: verdana; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I'm feeling a little hungry</span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-family: verdana; white-space: pre-wrap;">And my tummy needs a TREAT</span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-family: verdana; white-space: pre-wrap;">My grandpa has a SUPER SNACK</span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-family: verdana; white-space: pre-wrap;">That's really kinda neat!</span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-family: verdana; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-family: verdana; white-space: pre-wrap;">It's loaded up with veggies</span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-family: verdana; white-space: pre-wrap;">A colorful, crunchy DELIGHT</span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-family: verdana; white-space: pre-wrap;">With bread and cheese to go with it</span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-family: verdana; white-space: pre-wrap;">You'll long to take a BITE!</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">When Grandpa and I cook together</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">This SNACK you're sure to see</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">But do you know my FAVORITE bit?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">It looks like HIM and ME!!!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p>Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com0Mumbai, Maharashtra, India19.0759837 72.8776559-9.2342501361788472 37.721405899999993 47.386217536178847 108.0339059tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-41470811220826031102020-08-31T00:21:00.003+05:302020-08-31T00:21:57.265+05:30Book Review! Anne Of Greene Gables<p> <span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">One magical summer years ago, I discovered Anne of Greene Gables. My granddad gifted this classic children's book to me during the school holidays and it was love at first page! It was a summer full of lazy afternoons filled with reading in the leafy verandah of my grandparents beautiful old bungalow.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7LRzp8PeHEhsCMlfnswpm9SDkcmSRDj19flPcFE-fBFRK4JR8v8jOdxt04ikCT0Hm5waFwYF_Ye4hXgBDDDqO7pUy9wbb8RHuiRLwRDGpamDnGFW8deGiXqwrVQ8FFZQlnWfSa1UD-Js/s2048/Anne+of+Green+Gables.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7LRzp8PeHEhsCMlfnswpm9SDkcmSRDj19flPcFE-fBFRK4JR8v8jOdxt04ikCT0Hm5waFwYF_Ye4hXgBDDDqO7pUy9wbb8RHuiRLwRDGpamDnGFW8deGiXqwrVQ8FFZQlnWfSa1UD-Js/s640/Anne+of+Green+Gables.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p></p><span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">A dear friend recently gifted this book to my daughter and I was actually a little worried that she may not like this book that I once loved so much. Luckily, she loved it too and we've spent some wonderful moments talking about Anne, me rediscovering it all over again through my daughter.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Set in late 19th century Canada, Anne of Greene Gables recounts the adventures of red haired, irrepressible 11 year old Anne as she gets in and out of numerous scrapes, her innate optimism intact. Somehow the fact that Anne is red haired seemed important to mention; I remember this fascinating me as a child and it's the same with my daughter 😄</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">This is a wonderful book for kids aged 10 and above, and it has seven sequels (woohoo!) so if your children take to it, it's many hours filled with the joy of a good book. Anne of Green Gables is available on </span><a class="notranslate" href="https://www.instagram.com/amazondotin/" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none; vertical-align: baseline;" tabindex="0">@amazondotin</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> if you'd like to check it out.</span>Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-67377236669034115432020-08-26T01:03:00.007+05:302020-08-26T03:03:36.384+05:30Immunity Boosting Foods For Kids<p>Immunity on your mind? What with the ongoing pandemic and the monsoon in Mumbai, children's immunity tops the list of concerns of most parents these days. The damp weather makes kids even more susceptible to infections and the new normal will need us all to have strengthened immunity.</p><p><br /></p><p>One of the easiest ways to boost children's immunity is by incorporating nutrient dense foods in their regular diet. Here are the top 5 immunity boosting foods most nutritionists recommend:</p><p><br /></p><p>1. Turmeric: Our good 'ol haldi is a powerful antioxidant, known to boost immunity. Apart from your veggies and daals, add a pinch of turmeric to warm milk for a healthy bedtime drink for your kids.</p><p><br /></p><p>2. Go nuts! Dry fruits like almonds, dates, raisins, cashews and walnuts make a great snack for kids in-between meals and are packed with vitamins and antioxidants.</p><p><br /></p><p>3. Yoghurt: The probiotics in yoghurt stimulate the immune system so include a serving or two at meal times or serve it up with some fruit as a snack. Just make sure you avoid the high sugar flavored yoghurts though as those aren't great for the immune system due to the excess sugar.</p><p><br /></p><p>4. Ginger: Ginger works well against sore throats and coughs thanks to a compound present in it called gingerol. Use it liberally in your soups and stir fries and of course for mommies, your cuppa ginger chai!</p><p><br /></p><p>5. Vitamin C rich fruits and vegetables: The list would be incomplete without these. The seasonal fruits and veggies that are available this season have phytonutrients that are great for fighting infections. Make sure you're getting your 5 daily servings of fruits and veggies!</p><p><br /></p><p>What foods do you make it a point to include in your children's diet during this season? </p>Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-76072815777169683162020-08-24T23:39:00.002+05:302020-08-24T23:39:21.277+05:30Lockdown Life Skills For Kids<p> The extended lockdown in India has been tough for us with having to juggle office routines, online school for kids and the unending house work since we don't have any help. </p><p>It's also been a great opportunity to teach our kids some much needed life skills though! They started helping out with a lot of little stuff around the house and slowly felt confident enough to take on more and it's been a huge help! </p><p>Here are some basic life skills your kids can help you with too: </p><p>1. Making their own beds when they wake up and at bedtime</p><p>2. Putting away their clothes, books, toys aknd keeping their room tidy </p><p>3. My 11 year old has learned the full laundry cycle and is feeling very responsible and empowered since :) Sorting, loading, drying she knows it all! She also really enjoys folding the clothes, it helps her unwind she says.</p><p>4. Laying the table, clearing up the table after a meal and rinsing their own plates and spoons before putting them in the kitchen sink.</p><p>5. My 6 yo loves hanging out in the kitchen with me and helps put away the washed dishes as we chat. I wipe them dry and he puts them back in their designated places.</p><p>6. Basic meal prep- both the kids can now fix their own milk, cereal, toast and can even cut vegetables (with supervision). My 11yo loves making rotis (I don't! So am hoping she can take this over soon😉) and my 6yo loves helping knead the dough (it's a good punching bag) and puree tomatoes with the hand blender.</p><p>7. Watering the plants- and talking to them😄</p><p>The best part is these chores are building basic life skills that I know will help them in the years to come. What are some life skills you think you'd like your kids to learn?</p><p><br /></p>Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-80334766789904349912014-12-05T12:10:00.001+05:302014-12-06T15:33:03.523+05:30Ten ways to get your kids into the Christmas spirit!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
'Tis the season to be jolly but do you find the winter blues setting in and getting your kids into a blue funk instead? Maybe it's getting out of that warm, cozy quilt to deal with a school run in the biting chill of early morning; surly teachers (not so happy to be out of bed themselves); or a general winter melancholy that's bugging them, but if you find your kids not so revved up to bring on the Christmas cheer, here are ten sure shot ways to get them right back and rocking into the Xmas spirit! For some real fun leading up to the holidays, try these ten days before Christmas as a sort of Christmas Countdown and they'll be giving Santa a run for his ho-ho-ho's! <br />
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<strong><u><em>Day Ten: Bring home the tree!</em></u></strong><br />
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That's right, its time to get the great outdoors in (and in this case, since its Christmas, plastic trees qualify too ;))! There's nothing that gets the Xmas-sy mood going like decking up your home with a beautiful Christmas tree. From the real deal to artificial trees, there's a whole host of options out there to suit every budget and living space. To get your kids into the swing of things, get in a bare tree and get your kids to help with the decorations. The range of Christmas baubles available nowadays from fake snowflakes to feather birds to glitter stockings can beat the meanest winter funk and you can add to the fun by making your own decorations. <br />
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When Nikki was two years old we brought home our first tree to introduce her to the joys of Christmas. Unfortunately, we left the bag of baubles we'd also bought back at the store and by the time we got home it was too late to go back to get it, so we just decided to go to the store the next morning. We needn't have worried, since Nikki had already figured out a way to get her tree decked with some customized décor! Very soon pretty much all of her small sized soft toys were hanging up on the tree, along with her socks, cardboard glitter stars, real candy (who needs plastic when you can have the real deal?), cotton snow and some leftover birthday streamers (along with a party hat thrown in for good measure). I'd never seen a tree before with Tweety Bird, Minnie Mouse, toy giraffes, monkeys and snails vying for attention with giant cotton balls and Alpenliebe lollipops but it sure was one good looking tree and unlike any I'd ever seen before! This has become a sort of Christmas tradition with us; we put up our tree every year about ten days before Christmas and Nikki lets her imagination rip! This year Mister Cube will probably add his own touches to it as well :)<br />
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So bring in your tree and let the kids style it their way!<br />
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<strong><u><em>Day Nine: Plan an X-mas playdate!</em></u></strong><br />
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What better way to get your kids into the Christmas groove than getting together with some friends to bake and decorate some Christmas cookies while listening to some croon-some Christmas carols (Rudolph the Reindeer & Jingle Bells are on a loop at ours when Xmas rolls around) and sipping on some hot chocolate? And the mums can kick back over some mulled wine as well! You can even throw open your tree to your child's friends and make the tree décor project a joint one. This is a great way to get both younger and older kids into the holiday spirit; just vary the level of cookie baking depending on your child's age. For younger kids it could be as simple as dipping Marie biscuits into some melted chocolate, letting them sit in the fridge for a while and decorating with sprinkles; and for the older lot you can go all out with the kind of cookies you want to bake and decorate. After all who doesn't like a fresh, warm cookie straight out of the oven, no matter how old they are?!<br />
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<strong><em><u>Day Eight: Write a letter to Santa!</u></em></strong><br />
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Santa may just be a fat man in a red suit to us jaded old grown ups, but for a child there's something magical about Christmas because it has Santa right at its heart! So introduce your kids to the magic of Santa if you haven't already and better yet, get them to write him a letter. It doesn't have to be about gifts if you're not into the 'gifts for Christmas' scene; they can just write Santa a letter telling them all about themselves ( a brilliant way to get the pre-schoolers interested in reading and writing also!). And you can tell them all about Santa and his magical life at the North Pole in turn; his little helpers, the Christmas tradition of bringing gifts to all the good little boys and girls, the reindeers that help him navigate the snowy night before Christmas to deliver gifts through your chimney- no less! Yes I know, I'm a sucker for the Xmas razzmatazz! I even have a visit to the Santa Claus Village in Rovaniemi on my bucket list- for the <em>kids, </em>but naturally!<br />
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And if, like me, you love the whole gifts under the Christmas tree scene, you can get your kids to write to Santa asking for what they would like and why they think they deserve it. Nikki decides her gift at the start of each year (or maybe right after she's got her Christmas gift for the year!) and looks forward and works towards it (Santa gives gifts only to good little boys and girls remember?) all year long. The much awaited letter writing happens at the start of December, followed by a grand letter posting ceremony. The thrill of anticipation is only surpassed by the excitement of seeing that brightly wrapped package under the tree on Christmas morning and knowing that Santa had been there! I've found its a great way to get her to decide in advance what gift she'd really like to have, work towards it and patiently wait for it before she actually gets to own it. And the letter writing bit, explaining how and why she really, really deserves to have her gift is one fun ride I wouldn't miss for anything :)<br />
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For older kids who've outgrown Santa (sob!), you can rope them in to play Santa for their younger friends and siblings. One mom I know gets her circle of friends to pool in hundred rupees or less each and has her fifteen year old son and his friends buy gifts (each not exceeding hundred rupees) for her younger five year old and her gang of friends. The older lot have great fun playing Santa (they even get into the act by dressing up as Santa) and the younger lot get Santa and his goodies!<br />
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<strong><u><em>Day Seven: Make this Xmas about giving</em></u></strong><br />
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In line with the Santa spirit, how about getting Santa into the lives of the underprivileged this year? Organize a giveaway drive among your friends and family to give away old clothes, books, blankets or toys- several of the things we often don't need, don't know what to do with and sometimes dispose of mindlessly; and give them to people who can use them -orphanages, slums, schools for the underprivileged. Get your children to gift one toy at Christmas this year- it could be that much loved teddy that nobody plays with anymore or that book that's still in great shape but hasn't been read in forever, wrap it up and let your child play 'Secret Santa' to another child who'd only be too happy to have his/ her toy or book. Just make sure the things you give are in good shape; it's going to be another child's Christmas gift after all!<br />
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<strong><u>Day Six: Make it an X'mas Movie Night!</u></strong><br />
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From 'The Muppet Christmas Carol' to 'Miracle on 34th Street' there's a whole host of options out there to rock your Christmas movie night. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image Courtesy: <a href="http://www.filmoria.co.uk/">www.filmoria.co.uk</a></td></tr>
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Our personal favourite suited to our little munchkins (ages 5 and below) is the Original Christmas Classics collection which includes all the faves like Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Frosty the Snowman and The Little Drummer Boy, to name a few. And my personal favourite part about Christmas (since Santa doesn't bring me any gifts, sniff) is curling up on the couch with popcorn, pizza and eggnog and reliving my childhood by enjoying these all time Christmas classics with P and my two little dumplings.<br />
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<strong><u><em>Day Five: Discover Christmas through books!</em></u></strong><br />
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Now that you've watched and enjoyed movie night, get into the Christmas cheer the bookish way! Books like <em>The Night Before Christmas </em>and <em>The Joy of Giving (Berenstain Bears) </em>probably need no introduction, but in these parts the resident five year old prefers Fancy Nancy (we're on a Fancy Nancy spree at the moment) with her <em>Splendiferous Christmas. </em>My personal all time favourite though has to be <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Elf-Shelf-Christmas-Tradition-light/dp/0976990709" target="_blank">The Elf on The Shelf!</a> </em>Not only is the elf great fun, you can also take his invaluable assistance in getting your kids to bee-have, and if used wisely and well, all year long ;)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image Courtesy: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/">www.amazon.com</a></td></tr>
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<strong><em><u>Day Four: Make it a crafty Christmas!</u></em></strong><br />
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Christmas means holidays and holidays have little creatures twiddling their thumbs all day long with their favourite 'Mom, I'm soo <em>bored' </em>expression always on express display. If you need a way to pre-empt this ( and also keep aforementioned little c's out of your hair), get them busy with some X'mas art and craft! From handprint reindeers to pom pom ornaments (which can be used for your tree!) you can get your dose of crafty inspiration on Pinterest- or just Google your way into Christmas craft heaven! For our holidays this year, I'm just going to go through the awesome list of Christmas collages over at <a href="http://www.artsycraftsymom.com/30-christmas-paper-collage-for-kids/" target="_blank">Artsy Craftsy Mom</a>.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image Courtesy: artsycraftsymom.com</td></tr>
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<strong><u>Day Three: Cook up some Christmas cheer!</u></strong><br />
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You can't have a list all about Christmas and <em>not</em> talk about all that scrummylicious Christmassy food out there! From divine, melt in your mouth mince pies, edible gingerbread houses (I just saw some last week at a Thanksgiving party), crumbling with flavour Christmas cakes and oh, how can I leave out pudding- Christmas can be a foodie's heaven! Why not try cooking up a Christmas storm in your kitchen this year with your little ones, with this <a href="http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/9651/easy-chocolate-cupcakes" target="_blank">easy chocolate cupcake recipe</a> from BBC GoodFood. I can personally vouch, that if made right, these cupcakes are to die for- and they can be a perfect addition to your Christmas playdate or tree decorating party or even a great Christmas gift for friends!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image Courtesy: bbc.co.k</td></tr>
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<strong><em><u>Day Two: Hit the malls!</u></em></strong><br />
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Yes, that's right- I haven't gone off my rocker and started writing a whole new list here- hitting the malls IS a great way to bring on that Christmas spirit! Just hop over to the nearest mall and you'll know what I'm taking about. From snow flakes to glittering Christmas décor, indoor sleigh rides for kids to cookie baking workshops, malls these days are taking Christmas festivities to an all new level. And they have friendly mall based Santas too, who are only to happy to pose with your kids for that Christmas selfie and note down requests for last minute 'must-have' gifts! A trip to the neighbourhood mall is guaranteed to get your kids into the festive spirit while taking in the visual treats most malls put up on display as Christmas décor. They usually also have fun activities, workshops and Christmas bazaars around this time with a lot of stuff for kids to do. Oh, and you can get in some last minute Christmas shopping done as well since you're at the mall anyway (maybe just leave the husband out for this particular activity ;))!<br />
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<strong><u><em>Day One: A Karan Johar-esque X'mas</em></u></strong><br />
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Because, like the man said, it really is all about the family! Christmas is about spending time with your near and dear ones so get your loved ones together for a meal or a movie and focus on spending time together as a family. Bond over your favourite activity as a family and relish the time together. It will make the holiday season that much more special and make for some wonderful festive memories over the years. And- more of a note to not-so-trigger-happy self- don't forget to take pictures!<br />
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<strong><u><em>Day Zero: The Day before Christmas!</em></u></strong><br />
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Finally, its the night before Christmas and hopefully by now your kids are full of Christmas cheer and festive spirit! The night before Christmas don't forget to set out some cookies and hot chocolate for Santa (Yes, he prefers hot chocolate over milk- all that riding through the snow, don't you know) and drape some fairy lights over your Christmas tree for some extra cheer.<br />
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You're now all set to enjoy the <strong>big day </strong>when Christmas finally rolls around! Enjoy the holiday unwinding over some good food and great company. We're lucky to have friends with whom we go for midnight Mass every year at their local church and all the kids always have a great time. This is usually followed by a long, lazy Christmas brunch and a stroll around the neighbourhood to look at all the beautifully decorated churches. And when the day finally ends, it is with the anticipation of looking forward to bringing in the New Year with more good times to come!<br />
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<strong>Wait! That’s not it, we have a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/729012497183166/?ref=2&ref_dashboard_filter=upcoming&source=1" target="_blank"><span style="color: #4bb6f5;">Christmas Bonanza – Online party </span></a>happening!!</strong></div>
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<b>Come join a set of fabulous bloggers sharing their Christmas moments - Easy Holiday Crafts, DIY ideas, Recipes , Decor ideas and book recommendations with you.</b></div>
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Starting from today till Christmas and beyond, each one of us will be writing a post related to Christmas.<br />
<b>Participating blogs</b><br />
<a href="http://www.artsycraftsymom.com/">ArtsyCraftsyMom</a> - <a href="http://munniofalltrades.blogspot.in/">munniofalltrades</a> - <a href="http://hfareensspace.com/">hfareensspace</a> - <a href="http://roohiscollections.blogspot.in/">roohiscollections</a> - <a href="http://hellomommyhood.blogspot.in/">hellomommyhood</a> - a<a href="http://www.attachedmoms.com/">ttachedmoms</a> - <a href="http://totschooltotallyawesome.wordpress.com/">totschooltotallyawesome</a> - <a href="http://themomviews.com/">Themomviews</a> - b<a href="http://www.bumpsnbaby.com/">umpsnbaby.com</a> -<br />
<a href="http://rugsoflife.wordpress.com/">rugsoflife</a> - <a href="http://oneandahalfminutes.wordpress.com/">oneandahalfminutes</a> - <a href="http://www.shishuworld.com/">shishuworld</a> - <a href="http://ruskandtea.wordpress.com/">ruskandtea</a> - <a href="http://aspoonfullofideas.com/blog/">aspoonfullofideas</a> - <a href="http://orangekitchens.blogspot.com/">orangekitchens</a> - <a href="http://obsessivemom.blogspot.com/">obsessivemom</a> - <a href="http://rachnaparmar.com/">rachnaparmar</a> - <a href="http://parentingmantras.blogspot.com/">parentingmantras</a> -<br />
<a href="http://onboardthemommyship.wordpress.com/">onboardthemommyship</a> - <a href="http://www.kwikdeko.com/blog/">kwikdekoblog</a> - <a href="http://www.thekeybunch.com/">thekeybunch</a> - <a href="http://www.momzspace.in/">momzspace</a> - <a href="http://whatscookingmom.in/">whatscookingmom</a> - <a href="http://coloursdekor.blogspot.ae/">coloursdekor</a> - <a href="http://happypeopleevents.blogspot.in/">happypeopleevents</a> - <a href="http://fantastic-feathers.blogspot.com/">fantastic-feathers</a> - <a href="http://www.beingzoesmom.co.in/" target="_blank">beingzoesmom</a><br />
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So sit back, relax and check out all the fabulous Christmas Bonanza posts from our participating blogs in the linky. Support us by sharing our posts using the hash tag <b>#ChristmasBonanza</b><br />
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This Linky is for participating blogs only, but We would love to see your Christmas Crafts too. Come and link up your Christmas post at <a href="http://www.artsycraftsymom.com/?p=4396">ArtsyCraftsyMom.com</a><br />
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Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-28117120748485365122014-10-30T22:33:00.002+05:302014-10-31T20:33:24.370+05:30That holiday feeling!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A holiday has always been a sure shot way to get me to instant bliss. So when its <i>two</i> back to back holidays, its a double scoop of super loaded, twice as much, packed to the brim blissfulness! Clearly I also ate too much ice cream on vacay (double fudge, chocolate chip loaded, with twirls of dark chocolate, nutty Oreo bits and oozing with decadence....sighhhhh)<br />
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Anyway, getting back to the point, we're just back from first, a short-ish holiday in Panchgani followed by a long-ish holiday in Dubai, with a gap of about a week between the two which felt like a quasi holiday in itself since all we seemed to be doing was unpacking, packing and planning for the upcoming trip! We've been back home for a couple of days now and both my children seem to be suffering from a severe holiday hangover. Bedtimes, nap times, waking up times are topsy turvy and meal times have been replaced by grazing whenever the fancy strikes (or not!). But none of that is bothering me right now because I'm still basking in the post vacay glow and not even lunch at 3pm or both kids bright eyed and bushy tailed at 5am can get me down right now (that and the fact that we have a few more days to recover before its back to the school routine and I'm forced to snap out of that holiday feeling)!<br />
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The Dubai holiday also ended up being a completely disconnected-from-the-virtual-world one for me because my phone died on me just a few days before we left and I found myself Facebook-less, Watsapp-less and also contact-less for a while so was pretty much cut off from everyone apart from P and the kids. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise (after I'd survived the initial panic attack) because it was just so refreshing to switch off from all of the virtual messaging and info overload; a lot of which can be mostly unnecessary. Anyway, so I also managed to fall off my hundred happy days of blogging wagon in the meanwhile so I'm just going to pick up from where I left off, with a couple of happy holiday posts thrown in in-between (and photo posts too, no less!). In the meantime here's to holidays, new and old, the ones that've left lasting memories and the ones yet to come. Like I read somewhere in a shop window in Dubai, your vacation starts the minute you begin planning it and in true holiday spirit we started planning our next one on the flight back from Dubai. Coz nothing can quite beat that good ol' holiday feeling!</div>
Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-29651351986799851352014-10-10T09:36:00.001+05:302014-10-10T20:31:55.000+05:30Diwali party ideas for kids<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We like to parday! No, that's not some vague pirate custom I'm suddenly into; it is how 'parties' are pronounced in these parts by the resident five year old and her bunch of gal pals thanks to 'Race 2' and the ever popular 'Parday on my mind'. 'Tis the season of light and sparklers and with Diwali round the corner, a friend and I are planning to co-host a Diwali Parday for our two five year old daughters and their motley bunch of party loving friends. Last year, inspired by all the Diwali parties for grown ups happening around us, we had hosted a mini Diwali party for the kids and it was a huge hit. The kids had a blast and the mommies were only too happy to get the kids off their hands and doing something fun while they did their own Diwali prep (we hosted the party two days before the Lakshmi Pujan day). It was also a great way for kids to experience the festival while bonding with their friends <i>and</i> have something to do during their break from school. This year, motivated by all the Diwali love we got last year, we're hosting a Diwali party on a larger scale for the little ones and I thought it would be a good idea to blog about it for other moms looking for some fun Diwali ideas for their children. So here's a quick lowdown on the 'Parday' of the season!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image courtesy activityvillage.co.uk</td></tr>
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<i><b>Who, Where, How, When </b></i><br />
These<i><b> </b></i>party ideas are most appropriate for children in the 4-7 years age group, but with a little tweaking and customization (ideas for some of which are included below) you can make this party rock even for children in a slightly lower or higher age bracket. We are hosting the party on the 20th which is the first day of Diwali and also the first day of the holidays for most kids. Perfect time to get the little munchkins into the Diwali spirit! The party that we've planned is easily doable at home for a group of between 6-12 kids; if you have some open space like a reasonably sized balcony, terrace or a usable common area outside your apartment/ house that's an added bonus. 4pm is the perfect time to start this party (Chaar baj gaye lekin party abhi baaki hai- another favorite with the five year old gang!) since it gives enough time to do the activities we have planned and get some Diwali grub into those little tummies at a relaxed pace. For more on the 'How', read on!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image courtesy ipad.brothersoft.com</td></tr>
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<i><b>The 'How': what does one do at a kiddie Diwali party?</b></i><br />
<i>Activity One: Rangoli Time</i> <br />
This is my favorite part about our Diwali parday; in fact this was how we got the idea for hosting a Diwali party for our kids in the first place. Nikki, along with some of her friends, loves 'rangolis' and everything to do with them and rangoli making is one of the biggest draws of Diwali each year. Last year, we thought it would be more fun to get a bunch of her friends together and do the rangoli making and voila, our mini Diwali party began to take shape.<br />
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Here's what you'll need to get the rangoli making off to a great start:<br />
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<li>A couple of rangoli stencils: There is a whole host of shapes and designs of these available for Diwali. We used the basic shapes for our gang, but you can use the more intricate ones as well, specially for an older age group</li>
<li>Chalk</li>
<li>As many vibrant Diwali colours as you like! (Go for the organic ones since the kids will be handling them a fair bit)</li>
<li>Yellow and orange marigold flowers for flower rangolis and for decorating the colour rangolis</li>
<li>Loads of festive spirit :)</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXIELE9S6vSr7BNeZBNzJ2Xr52bawtOr9GAJzeFwdm_O0maKcXLAaWY_jHHf96fUbWGBEUUJcvFV0kD4X07g312LMvBvLMBxNh7QhSF5jDFtRFK_rXj-m_O3xaVlgx8e4cJ-nN1yWnZ2E/s1600/rangoli1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXIELE9S6vSr7BNeZBNzJ2Xr52bawtOr9GAJzeFwdm_O0maKcXLAaWY_jHHf96fUbWGBEUUJcvFV0kD4X07g312LMvBvLMBxNh7QhSF5jDFtRFK_rXj-m_O3xaVlgx8e4cJ-nN1yWnZ2E/s1600/rangoli1.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image courtesy www.roylco.com</td></tr>
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For the rangoli making last year we used the beautiful open terrace area at my friend's apartment. We used the rangoli stencils and chalk to draw the outlines all along the perimeter of the terrace and then let the kids get as creative as they liked, filling up the designs with a multitude of vibrant colours! There were a couple of only flower rangolis happening as well for the smaller kids who were too little for using the colours. We had a couple of supervising adults helping out and guiding the kids where needed which proved to be a big help since we had a fairly large number of guests, but if you have less people to help just scale down the activity accordingly. For example, a bunch of four kids can work on a medium sized rangoli with one supervising adult. A closed indoor area could work as well with a smaller group but with an open area the kids can get as creative (read: messy) as they like without the party host having to worry about extensive clean-ups later! With older kids you can take it one step further by increasing the intricacy of the rangoli designs and can even try out the traditional styles with pattern dots.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib5tXgBOtqkmHSMz0C9N8p2hPYQCW5HchjeqXC2L1a8ntVM_V0hrPnzSA-8KXfo-4mfMQIeweufbxBV5KAU-iLLnLEeN5FtEgU3yv5ag-J_Vd2XxiklV1BKdBtXSUPTONUgDmG0iDBudM/s1600/rangoli+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib5tXgBOtqkmHSMz0C9N8p2hPYQCW5HchjeqXC2L1a8ntVM_V0hrPnzSA-8KXfo-4mfMQIeweufbxBV5KAU-iLLnLEeN5FtEgU3yv5ag-J_Vd2XxiklV1BKdBtXSUPTONUgDmG0iDBudM/s1600/rangoli+3.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image courtesy kolamdesigns.in</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicWRkucLcRSvkXmfngMdOmV3PuhzHr4JotYoeJ_6F2U-jFC6MaiUI1REcDmoDAxZ4gEZRVK7vX708Tr9idb5UJy06tRWePQZx685Dt62CxaHnHH89-zdvrDtDPBzcQCLIbQ5aARg55xn4/s1600/rangoli+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicWRkucLcRSvkXmfngMdOmV3PuhzHr4JotYoeJ_6F2U-jFC6MaiUI1REcDmoDAxZ4gEZRVK7vX708Tr9idb5UJy06tRWePQZx685Dt62CxaHnHH89-zdvrDtDPBzcQCLIbQ5aARg55xn4/s1600/rangoli+4.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image courtesy www.wikihow.com</td></tr>
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<i>Activity Two: Designer Diyas</i><br />
What you'll need:<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Basic unpainted clay diyas</li>
<li>Acrylic paints in a variety of shades, the more the merrier!</li>
<li>Paint brushes and palettes to mix and match colours</li>
<li>Glue</li>
<li>Loads of eclectic diya decor: sequins, glitter, shimmer dust, the works!</li>
</ul>
This one doesn't really need any explaining. Just give the kids a diya and a paintbrush each and let them at it!<br />
This is a pretty popular Diwali activity among kids and we're including this in the party this year since we have about twelve little party guests and the plan is to divide them into two groups of six kids each. One group does the rangoli activity first while the other group does the diya painting and then they switch activities.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZtKdYOeXBU_wF1WH4D_WUjdJhW4pCNRwD78878eo4Vq7KI5GLoOh-ybbdI0G4kaP_zrylE0_nhr2McBcmQXsyLX4c2wiYj9YYk2BeN8D5-nZrWjn6mpRHTagnREvPvbRBaJ0NH_piuc0/s1600/diya+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZtKdYOeXBU_wF1WH4D_WUjdJhW4pCNRwD78878eo4Vq7KI5GLoOh-ybbdI0G4kaP_zrylE0_nhr2McBcmQXsyLX4c2wiYj9YYk2BeN8D5-nZrWjn6mpRHTagnREvPvbRBaJ0NH_piuc0/s1600/diya+1.jpg" height="241" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image courtesy myhobbies-crafts.blogspot.com</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-DiB_qRtNx5o8exVblFy7cHJvKhSSKo3ZUHbTJOuzK71XvFUnoNM9liVqQuytxGR03ak6UnZPZSVdQmWa9lht3p5MEml5b4nQDuH0VIwlfp2IYAB39vrDRCTT594WYU9Pxhdu6BOe2b0/s1600/diya+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-DiB_qRtNx5o8exVblFy7cHJvKhSSKo3ZUHbTJOuzK71XvFUnoNM9liVqQuytxGR03ak6UnZPZSVdQmWa9lht3p5MEml5b4nQDuH0VIwlfp2IYAB39vrDRCTT594WYU9Pxhdu6BOe2b0/s1600/diya+2.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image courtesy craftmelange.blogspot.com</td></tr>
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Once the kiddos are done with all that rangoli making and diya decorating you'll find that this section also doubles up as a how-to for <b>DIY Diwali Decor</b> :) Your rangoli area will be a riot of colours and flowers and you can line up the prettily painted diyas wherever you please! You can some more bling by putting up thermocol cutouts of diyas on the walls and hanging up some sparkly streamers (the kind you use for birthday parties) and paper lanterns all over the party area on the day of the party. Last year, we also got some fairy lights indoors and draped them at a few places around furniture (keep them out of reach of little hands though!) and switched them on after it got dark outside. The effect was magical and it was a big hit with the kids!<br />
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Since we're starting the party at 4pm we plan on doing both activities for an hour each. Even with a buffer of about an hour we should be done by 7pm latest, with our little brigade ready to hang up their paintbrushes and get those rangoli stained fingers into some Diwali goodies!<br />
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<i><b>A Diwali feast to gladden little tummies</b></i><br />
We've planned quite an elaborate (or at least I think so!) feast this year for our little guests since there's two of us co-hosting this party and between us we have enough help and helping hands on the day of the party. We've put together the menu based on the tastes and preferences of our little invitees, so feel free to go through, pick and choose what you like and design your own menu for your little ones.Here's the dinner menu we have planned:<i><br /></i>
<i>Starters</i><br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Mini<i><b> </b></i>samosas</li>
<li>Corn and cheese fritters</li>
<li>Lemonade and Tang in industrial quantities for the tiny guzzlers </li>
</ul>
<i><b></b></i>
<i>Main Course</i><br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Vegetable Pulav</li>
<li>Chhole</li>
<li>Palak puris</li>
<li>Aloo tamatar sabji (gravy)<i><b></b></i></li>
<li>Sides of lots of creamy dahi and cucumber and carrot fingers- hot favourite with the kids and usually among the first dishes to disappear!<i><b><br /></b></i></li>
</ul>
<i>Deserts</i><br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Gulab Jamun</li>
<li>Fruit Custard</li>
</ul>
I'm not including detailed recipes in this post since all of these are pretty standard recipes, but if you need a specific recipe just write to me in the comments section and I promise to get back to you as soon as I can. Also, for mommies who would prefer their kids to avoid bingeing on the deep fried goodies, here are some tips:<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>The mini samosas can be made with whole wheat flour and baked (and loaded with as many veggies as you like!)</li>
<li>The corn and cheese fritters can be replaced with shallow fried corn and cheese patties/ cutlets( load 'em up with the green stuff if you want to as well)</li>
<li>Palak puris can be replaced with palak rotis </li>
<li>Desert can be only fruit if you really must, but must you really? Its Diwali after all! </li>
</ul>
<i><b></b></i>
<i><b>Post Parday Stupor</b></i><br />
There won't be much energy to do anything post all that activity and (hopefully) tummy filling that happens (our lot went straight to bed last year!) but if you still have any little stragglers whose mummies or daddies haven't turned up to pick them up yet you can keep them busy with a quick game of cards (another great activity option for older kids) or some Diwali time story telling (for the younger lot). Send them home with their handpainted diyas and a gift of homemade chocolates or mithai if you like, and memories of a delightful parday that they will hopefully cherish and remember- at least till the next big bash comes around ;)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image courtesy www.kiddyhouse.com</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<h2 style="text-align: center;">
Come join a set of fabulous bloggers sharing their Diwali moments , easy Crafts, DIY ideas, Recipes and book recommendations with you .</h2>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.artsycraftsymom.com/diwali-card-making-ideas-diwali-dhamaka" target="_blank"><img alt="" class="aligncenter wp-image-4052" src="http://shruti.wwwssr3.supercp.com/content/uploads/2014/10/Diwali-dhamaka-2014.jpg" height="320" width="460" /></a>
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Starting from today till Diwali and beyond, each one of us will be writing a post related to Diwali.</div>
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<b>Participating blogs</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://artsycraftsymom.com/" target="_blank">Artsy Craftsy mom</a> . <a href="http://readingrabbitslibrary.blogspot.in/" target="_blank">Reading Rabbits Library</a> . <a href="http://foodsnfads.blogspot.in/" target="_blank">Food and fads</a> . <a href="http://nayanadonga.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Cherish Dream Live</a> . <a href="http://www.mylittlemoppet.com/" target="_blank">My little Moppet</a> .<a href="http://onboardthemommyship.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"> On-board the Mommyship</a> . <a href="http://roohiscollections.blogspot.in/" target="_blank">Roohi's Collection</a> . <a href="http://coloursdekor.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Colours Dekor</a> . <a href="http://www.bumpsnbaby.com/" target="_blank">Bumps n Baby </a> . <a href="http://hellomommyhood.blogspot.in/" target="_blank">Hello Mommyhood</a> . <a href="http://aspoonfullofideas.com/blog/" target="_blank">A spoonfull of ideas</a> . <a href="http://craftisland.blogspot.in/" target="_blank">CraftIsland</a> . <a href="http://perfectskincareforyou.com/" target="_blank">Perfect Skin care for you</a> .<a href="http://parentingmantras.blogspot.in/" target="_blank"> ParentingMantras</a> . <a href="http://whatscookingmom.in/" target="_blank">Whats Cooking Mom</a> . <a href="http://orangekitchens.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Orange kitchens</a> . <a href="http://www.quiltsnquills.blogspot.in/" target="_blank">Quilts & Quills</a> .<a href="http://purplebee12.blogspot.in/" target="_blank"> Fun Activities for Children</a> . <a href="http://somethingiscooking.com/" target="_blank">Something’s cooking</a> . <a href="http://www.obsessivemom.blogspot.in/" target="_blank">Obsessivemom</a> . <a href="http://adesignenthusiast.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">The Design Enthusiast</a> . <a href="http://fantastic-feathers.blogspot.in/" target="_blank">Fantastic Feathers</a> . <a href="http://littleaadiali.blogspot.in/" target="_blank">Little aadi ali</a></div>
So sit back, relax and check out all the fabulous Diwali Dhamaka posts in the linky.
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Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-20518451940695204162014-10-01T15:54:00.000+05:302014-10-08T21:44:43.284+05:30Telephone Etiquette 101<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Tring Tring Baje Phone! <br />
Hello, hello, kaun, kaun?<br />
<br />
Or in our case, 'Hay, hay, kaun, kaun?' Coz the telephone is Mister Cube's newly discovered obsession and he just can't get enough of it! When he's not tinkering with the buttons, putting the phone on speaker mode and then listening on in rapt fascination to the melodious dial tone or trying to break the receiver into smithereens by attempting to dismember the phone by separating the receiver from the rest of the instrument, he is answering the phone (or so he thinks because said answering happens even when the phone doesn't actually ring!) in his own inimitable style. This consists of lifting the receiver, flinging it over his shoulder with a distinctly Shammi Kapoor-esque flourish as he tries to emulate the more mundane version of lifting receiver to ear that other members of the household follow, cocking his head to one side with a look of intense concentration and saying 'Hay?' He follows this up with some extensive gabbledy gook which his sister apparently understands and joins in and much merriment ensues as his little band of household admirers eggs him on between wiping away tears of mirth at this ongoing demonstration of telephone etiquette 101.<br />
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Never thought a telephone would be capable of bringing this much joy, or fun! And since we are ringing in so much merriment thanks to the telephone these days, this is what I'm gifting Monsieur Cube for his first birthday (can hardly believe its already been nearly one year since Mister Cube came into our lives!) coming up soon:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Ik-DIKuHkLxnP6JC3jbcXQL1mJTNGV0UMytpToi_ESFA-az_aDK0DgctlA-WxgqPUgWDuv4L3I6PHUXKqueDBqXkb5VXSRPVhCVWyz5NQBrf29Tr0ayvnSoCn3pAV4onV8dKVPXXZSE/s1600/chatter+telephone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Ik-DIKuHkLxnP6JC3jbcXQL1mJTNGV0UMytpToi_ESFA-az_aDK0DgctlA-WxgqPUgWDuv4L3I6PHUXKqueDBqXkb5VXSRPVhCVWyz5NQBrf29Tr0ayvnSoCn3pAV4onV8dKVPXXZSE/s1600/chatter+telephone.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">*Fisher Price Chatter Telephone image courtesy www.diapers.com</td></tr>
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Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-62663085691704136762014-09-30T12:27:00.000+05:302014-10-01T20:31:51.365+05:30Leftover Parathas<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have a recurring nightmare about waking up to a fridge overflowing with leftovers. Domestic goddess I most certainly am not! There was a time in the distant past, almost eleven years ago to be precise, when the mother in law on her first visit to our first home as newly weds had been aghast to find a little mountain of seaweed growing in the refrigerator's veggie tray. Closer inspection and detailed analysis revealed that it was originally a slab of paneer that had congealed with some leftover <i>dhaniya patta</i> and festered over several days to what now resembled the grassy slopes of Mount Mansfield. What had transpired was this: the husband and I had been taking turns to do the groceries since both of us had hectic travelling schedules with our respective jobs and tended to be on the move about fifteen to twenty days in a month. On one such trip I had ambitiously bought a handsome looking chunk of paneer fully intending to turn it into a succulent <i>paneer makhni. </i>The next day I had to dash off to Vishakapatnam to look into some pressing work issues (stagnating sales of Iodex of the 'Iodex maliye, kaam pe chaliye' tagline if you must know) and had conveniently forgotten about aforementioned paneer. The husband in the meantime bought some fresh and sprightly looking dhaniya (to be turned into <i>chutney</i>, we were informed later), dumped it on the paneer (thereby successfully camouflaging it from human view) and dashed off to Shanghai for a sales conference. Needless to say, the fresh and sprightly dhaniya was soon relegated to an obscure corner of his memory. When the MIL went on her investigative expedition of the refrigerator a couple of days (or maybe it was weeks?) later the paneer had been reduced to a (greyish) shadow of its former creamy, chunky self and the dhaniya was a tragic reminder of better days that had once been lived through. United in their misery, together they just formed a desolate, green clump.<br />
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Skimming lightly over that unfortunate incident that has since been relegated to the Distant Past (lets just say, the MIL gets a greenish tinge reminiscent of Mount Mansfield if anyone says the word 'paneer') and coming briskly to the present moment, we have come a long long way since those days and such domestic disasters no longer abound. In fact I'm now quite the domestic diva thanks to the latent Paranoia Gene that was activated post motherhood along with the Health and Safety Sensors. However the traumas of the past do not fade lightly and I often have nightmares in which a shimmering green chunk slithers around an otherwise immaculate fridge veggie tray. My paranoia for Lurking Leftovers had gone into an overdrive yesterday because due to a series of unplanned and unforeseen events the food that had been cooked for lunch and dinner had not been consumed in the desired quantities and as a result I went to bed with a heavy heart and much anxiety about what to do with said leftovers. I needn't have worried though because unbeknownst to me, P turned out to be quite the star when it comes to converting Lurking Leftovers into Bedazzling Breakfasts, and I woke up this morning to freshly brewed tea and P's Luscious Leftover Parathas! Recipe below for those who are interested ( and those who may have shimmering green chunks lurking in their paneer, er, past):<br />
<br />
<u><b>Leftover Parathas </b></u><br />
<br />
<i>Ingredients</i><br />
Half and half quantities of whole wheat flour and makki ka atta<br />
Leftover kala chana gravy<br />
Leftover lauki kofta curry<br />
Leftover vegetable ratatouille<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Prep</i><br />
Knead all of the above in a large mixing bowl with dahi and some water. Adjust salt to taste. Serve fresh off the pan with dollops of creamy dahi! (And butter for the kids who are still young and don't have to worry about their burgeoning weight).<br />
P.S. You can also add some grated paneer and freshly chopped coriander to the above ;)<br />
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Much leftover happiness today which has lasted well past breakfast!<br />
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Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-42280299297416575902014-09-29T12:52:00.001+05:302014-09-29T12:54:49.948+05:30Baby's first steps<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
And the baby of the house is now officially a toddler! Yes, Mister Cube took his first few confident steps today* :)<br />
<br />
Technically these were not really his first steps, he has been on the verge of graduating from baby to toddler for a while now, with a few independent steps thrown in among all the relentless cruising, but today for the first time he didn't falter even once and took a few super confident steps without reaching once for Mama's hand. And once he had begun, there was just no stopping him! He was trotting around in no time with the trademark look of exhilaration clubbed with wonder that all babies have when they first discover walking independently. I still remember the exact same expression on Nikki's face when she took her first steps in our balcony. With her though, I'd been waiting for those first independent steps for what seemed like eons and when the moment finally arrived I was over the moon. This time round, it was more of a bittersweet feeling. My littlest baby is growing up. And he's growing up in what seems like fast forward mode! I don't know if it feels like this with all second babies but they just seem to grow way too soon. Maybe its because as a mother you just have more stuff to do caring for two children and you don't have the intense focus (read hyper paranoia in my case!) you did when it was just the one child, but it feels like time has just whizzed past the second time round. From helpless newborn babe-in-arms to little wriggler to his very own innocuous looking but rapid track belly crawl to sitting, cruising and now toddling, my precious time with my growing-too-quick baby has gone by in a flash. <br />
<br />
You'd think with five years of parenting behind me I would've got used to it by now but clearly I haven't. I was really having fun with the cruising and the first few faltering steps which always ended with a frenzied dash into Mama's waiting arms for some much needed comfort before setting off on the next expedition :) But before I knew it (and clearly before I was ready for it, although I wonder if I would ever get to that stage!) Mama's arms were being impatiently brushed off as little Mister Cube discovered that his two chubby little legs didn't need no support no more! And just like that he was toddling, no brakes! And in his case no speed bumpers either, clearly our man believes in living life on the fast track! <br />
<br />
And so yet another milestone is achieved and another little birdie gets ready to discover his new found wings. And the little birdie's Mama is going to try and put a lid on her melodramatic tendency to start weeping over her soon to be empty nest (just eighteen odd years away and at the rate at which they're whizzing past I'll probably be blogging about it here tomorrow!) and instead revel in the new found and incomparable joys of a toddler's first steps. Here's to that on #HappyDay4.<br />
<br />
*Today was actually yesterday**<br />
** No I haven't completely lost my marbles (yet), Mister Cube took his first few steps yesterday (Sunday the 28th). This post is appearing a day late thanks to the Gods of the Internet- hopefully their wrath will abate today and I'll be back to blogging on a regular schedule.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-23851513448267741992014-09-28T19:17:00.002+05:302014-09-28T19:17:40.845+05:30Breakfast Yoga<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Kick started yoga today after nearly a year long hiatus.Its not the traditional yoga that I personally prefer; its closer to power yoga but the class fits in really well with my current weekly schedule and so I decided to sign up. Also, its a class I've done before and I really took to it the last time. Apart from the obvious fitness benefits, it really helped me get in touch with myself physically and mentally (looong way to go before we can add spiritually to that list methinks!). It has the perfect mix of postures, breathing and meditation and is just the right amount of challenging you to the point where you think you can't take it anymore, inter spaced with really feel good relaxation.<br />
<br />
Perfect way to kick off a Saturday. Walk through early morning quiet to get to the class. An hour of yoga which felt really good to get back to. Back home to breakfast with the husband and kids only to find that the kids had been brushed and breakfasted (Go P!) and were really happy to see me home. Feeling limbered up, stretched out (in a good way!) and blissed much.<br />
<br />
***The Day 3 post is appearing a day late because the internet decided to play hooky last evening for the substantial part of an hour and thereafter seemed to develop a serious bipolar disorder. Also, it was<i> Dandiya </i>night and I'd promised Nikki I'd take her dancing, so after much impatient persistence I gave up and decided to just post today instead.<br />
<br /></div>
Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-67122459166171037482014-09-26T22:29:00.000+05:302014-10-01T19:24:10.321+05:30After Eight<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
No it's not the chocolate I'm talking about. Although, given the chocoholic that I am, that divine chocolate bathed mint is quite likely to figure in this list one of these days too. But for today, it is the time that I'm talking about. After eight. Eight p.m. that is (Eight a.m.? Now that be a whole different story. School runs. Ack!).<br />
<br />
Eight p.m. is when the kids go to bed and I am once again the master of my own time. Eight p.m. is when silence, peace and tranquility descend over our hitherto bustling household where up until then chaos, disarray and mayhem have been merrily reaching an ear shattering crescendo. Okay, maybe I'm getting a little carried away here, those are only the <i>bad</i> days, but anyhoo (Yes! Always wanted to use that word <i>somewhere</i>) post eight p.m., once the two little munchkins are safely tucked in bed, life becomes significantly quieter and one can actually envision oneself sitting down for fifteen minutes at a stretch with a mug of hot chocolate without having to mediate a fight, supervise an art activity or prevent a soap flake or a dust ball from being ingested by the resident soon-to-be- toddler.<br />
<br />
Suffice to say the after eight feeling is right up there on the list of things that give me the instant 'I love my life right now' feeling. <br />
<br />
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Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-65275855281023062652014-09-25T21:30:00.000+05:302014-09-25T21:30:15.074+05:30Happy Firsts<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It was kind of like love at first sight...<br />
<br />
Almost.<br />
<br />
I still remember the day we first met. It was the perfect setting. The lights were dim. Trance like music pulsating in the background. I was feeling impatient, restless. I'd been looking for someone like her for a while now but I didn't know then that she was, quite literally, just around the corner. I nearly bumped into her as I turned said corner and screeched to a halt just short of her. My pulse quickened as I laid eyes on her. Was she the one I had been looking for? I came to a decision after a few minutes of mulling over this.Yes, she was. It didn't me long after that. I can be very quick to act when I want to. Almost impulsive sometimes. And act quickly I did. It was just a matter of days before she was back at my place. I got back home early the day she first arrived. I could feel the excitement coursing through my veins just thinking about her back at home, waiting for me. And waiting she was, in the exact place I had envisioned her to be when I'd first laid eyes on her. I approached her, almost dizzy with anticipation. She was gorgeous. My very own beauty in black. My breath caught in my throat as I reached out and touched her gleaming black curves. I couldn't wait any longer. Grasping her firmly by the sides I moved quickly and...............RAN. My very own Sole F80 treadmill was here at last! She was sleek, gorgeous and stunning! And running on her was an absolute joy! We've kept our running dates quite religiously after that, she and I. Come hail or hot weather, rain or even too much shine, we make it a point to run all our troubles away. Because running on her is sheer, unadulterated happiness! This is my first hundred days of happy then. And I even got a picture!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>My Sole Mate :) </b></div>
<br />
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Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-54743665091949451492014-09-24T21:51:00.003+05:302014-09-24T21:51:30.955+05:30I give comebacks a bad name...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
...BUT I have a plan! And about time too. Between work, artsy craftsy projects with the five year old, bed time battles with the eleven month old (some things <i>never</i> grow old), travel and the million other things that constitute my life currently, it was becoming only too easy to neglect this space. Except for the niggling little voice in my head that piped up every now and then, reminding me <a href="http://hellomommyhood.blogspot.in/2009/09/first-time-here.html" target="_blank">why I had started this blog in the first place</a>. So, five whole years later (I <i>know</i>! We may lose out on consistency but full marks for persistence!), here I am yet again giving it another shot. Unlike the long, rambling, excuse laden posts that I've been wont to indulge in earlier (aside from the fact that with two children, long rambling posts now seem like a bit of a luxury), I'm going to keep it short and crisp this time round. No excuses. Its been five months since the last post but lookie, I'm back! AND, like I said, I have a plan. I'm sure all of you (I can has imaginary readers. So there.) have heard of <a href="http://100happydays.com/" target="_blank">this</a>. You can't not have. Unless you eschew social media, avoid newspapers because what are they but harbingers of doom every morning and have a whole bunch of friends who think like you. In which case you probably wouldn't be reading this either, so its safe to assume that you do know about the #100HAPPYDAYS challenge. You've probably even done it yourself! I know I've been fantasizing about it for a while now, as a means of reviving this blog. What better way to revive your fading blogging mojo than to publicly take up a challenge like this one and then keep at it hundred days in a row! Originally, I was even planning to follow the guidelines and do a picture a day like the challenge says. And that is precisely why I've been fantasizing about it for so long and done zilch to make the fantasy come true. Because, as many of my close friends will tell you, the chances of me clicking a new picture every single day, even if it is of something that sends me into raptures of joy (unless its the kids and you can't really put a pic of the children every single day, aside from the obvious privacy issues) and then actually uploading it on the blog and writing about it are about as bright as the weather department getting the forecast right with unmatched accuracy every single time. Hopelessly dim, in other words. So I thought I'd just stick to the writing. That being the idea of doing this challenge in the first place. To come here and write. Because with me, and I suspect it would be this way with most bloggers, the more I write the, more I write. The less I write, the further the blog slips into depressing blog-oblivion. I might even throw in the occasional picture on good days! But for the most part it will be about the writing. And the blog reviving. And as a bonus, I even get to be happier, more optimistic, in a better mood yada yada like the challenge says. Not that I need much to make me happy these days. About six straight hours of sleep without the baby waking up for a session of intense night time rocking/ lullaby singing is enough to make me wake up ecstatic. My needs are simple like that. The main thing for me about doing this is really to get this blog up and running again. So, if I do stick to the guidelines and manage to get a post up everyday, I'm actually going to have one hundred posts up here in the next hundred days! Which is considerably more than the just about hundred odd posts I've managed in the last five years. And that in itself will make me feel quite chipper. Here's to #100BloggyDays then. Blogging Nirvana here I come!</div>
Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-32828762556432315002014-04-01T11:20:00.001+05:302014-04-01T11:20:58.572+05:30What to expect (from your preschooler) when you're expecting (the second baby)!: Part 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>Random conversations around the house...</b><br />
<br />
The Mommy Woman and Nikki are enjoying a leisurely alfresco brunch while The Daddy Man determinedly pounds away on the treadmill to the tune of Linkin Park. In the pre second pregnancy days, I'd usually oblige Nikki post my treadmill workout with her very own 'workout' which comprised setting the treadmill to the slowest speed and holding her hand as she gingerly took a few steps with a look of intense concentration on her face, before collapsing in a heap and demanding an 'energy drink'.<br />
<br />
Nikki: Mama, why don't you work out on the treadmill anymore?<br />
<br />
TMW: The doctor has asked me not to for some time because I have a baby in my tummy now.<br />
<br />
Nikki (lost in thought): Ohhhh....Mama?<br />
<br />
TMW: Yes?<br />
<br />
Nikki: I have a baby in my tummy too! So I also won't work out on the treadmill from now on.<br />
<br />
TMW: Erm...OK!<br />
<br />
Nikki: Let Dada work out. He only has Poha in his tummy!<br />
<br />
*Sound of The Daddy Man crashing off the treadmill to the tune of Linkin Park in the background*<br />
<br />
****************************************************************************<br />
<br />
Nikki: When I have a baby sister we will both play with my Barbie dolls.... When I have a baby sister we will both dress up like princesses....When I have a baby sister we will....<br />
<br />
TMW: What if its a boy?<br />
<br />
Nikki: YOU are having the baby, make sure its a girl!<br />
<br />
TMW: It can be either a boy or a girl so you have to be okay with the fact that you may get a baby brother as well.<br />
<br />
Nikki: I know! If its a baby brother, just go back to the mall and exchange it for a baby sister!<br />
<br />
****************************************************************************<br />
<br />
The husband and I are having one of our usual intense and meaningful discussions about what to name the new baby:<br />
<br />
Me: If its a girl, do you like the names Ria/ Aditi/ Riddhima/ Amyra/ Tara?<br />
<br />
The Husband, nose buried in Blackberry, in a firm and convinced tone: NO. Okay, maybe... Ria is okay...<br />
<br />
Me: You like Ria?<br />
<br />
The Husband: Come to think of it, not. NO.<br />
<br />
Me: If its a boy, what do you think of Aryan, Neel, Abeer, Arnav....<br />
<br />
The Husband (cutting me off midway, or maybe it was right at the outset): No, no, NO!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Me: Bhalachandra, then?<br />
<br />
TH: It does have a nice sound to it...<br />
<br />
Nikki: Mama! I have already decided the baby's name!<br />
<br />
Me: Eh?<br />
<br />
Nikki: If its a girl, we'll call her Anika Dubey (name of current BFF) and if its a boy we'll call him Arnav Priyadarshi (name of current BMF)<br />
<br />
Me: Ermm, Anika and Arnav are nice names but we may want to drop the surnames seeing as in their fathers and your father may have a slight problem with that.<br />
<br />
Nikki: ANIKA DUBEY! ARNAV PRIYADARSHI! THOSE ARE THE NAMES I WANT!<br />
<br />
TH, nose firmly ensconced in Blackberry again: See? This is a pointless conversation. The names are already decided!<br />
<br />
**************************************************************************<br />
<br />
It is the third trimester and The Mommy Woman is waddling around the house.<br />
<br />
Nikki, with a look of faint alarm on her face: Mama, your tummy is really big now...<br />
<br />
TMW: Yes darling, the baby will be ready to come out soon!<br />
<br />
Nikki: Is your tummy going to grow any more?<br />
<br />
TMW: Um, yes, there are three months more to go so it will grow a little more.<br />
<br />
Nikki, look of faint alarm now replaced with undisguised horror: Will your tummy grow so big that it touches the roof??<br />
<br />
TMW: Hahaha! No don't worry, its not going to grow that big!<br />
<br />
Nikki: Don't worry Mama, if your tummy grows too big and you start flying away like a hot air baloon, I will tie a string around your ankle so that you don't fly away!<br />
<br />
Look of undisguised horror passes from Nikki's face to The Mommy Woman's. <br />
<br /><br /></div>
Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-22732999816102083662014-03-06T11:08:00.000+05:302014-03-06T11:08:32.700+05:30What to expect (from your preschooler) when you're expecting (the second baby)!: Part 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Breaking the news...<br />
<br />
The Mommy Woman to herself: Should we or should we not? Maybe we should wait...she's still so little after all, not even four yet! I read in my parenting book that children this age have a different concept of time, nine months is like an eternity to them! Yes, we really should wait till a little later before we tell her, maybe when the bump starts showing. *Walks around feeling smug about smart parenting decision*<br />
<br />
Nikki: Mama?<br />
<br />
TMW: Yes, buttercup?<br />
<br />
Nikki: Are you pregnant?<br />
<br />
TMW: Choke, splutter, gasp, faint!!!<br />
<br />
Nikki, with an air of easy nonchalance: <i>Because</i> I heard you talking to your friend S Massi the other day, when you were whispering and trying to talk softly so I wouldn't hear (faint disdain in voice now)<br />
<br />
TMW: Heh heh heh Oh, ah, er....<br />
<br />
Nikki: So <i>are</i> you?<br />
<br />
TMW: Heh heh heh Er, ah, oh...Ummm Nikki?<br />
<br />
Nikki: Hmm?<br />
<br />
TMW: Umm...let me tell you what being pregnant <i>means</i>....<br />
<br />
Nikki (impatiently): I <i>know</i> that! There's a baby in your tummy and I'm going to get a brother or a sister. Oh by the way, make sure its a girl. I was going to tell you to have a baby anyway. I want a sister.<br />
<br />
TMW: Collapses in dead faint on floor on nearest available non hazardous surface.<br />
<br />
Last words from The Daddy Man: What was it your parenting book said again? Hahahahaha!<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-83737550810722608242014-03-05T22:46:00.001+05:302014-03-05T22:46:56.088+05:30Hello Mommyhood: The Sequel<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Its been almost a year since I clean fell off the blogging radar- and what a year it has been! It wasn't just my poor neglected blog that hasn't seen an update in months, I haven't caught up on reading some of my favourite blogs either. Unlike the Bollywood sequels of yore though which come forth with cheesy titles and cheesier content, Hello Mommyhood redux will hopefully be a better, brighter avatar of its former self! After all we have newer stuff to blog about and a brand new baby on the block! :) Yup that's right, when I said 'The Sequel' I wasn't talking just about reviving the blog alone (although that is definitely on the agenda!) but I was also referring to being mommified for the second time round! Our second little bundle of joy and Nikki's brand new baby brother arrived in our lives four and a half months ago and is currently giving his mommy sleepless nights and nap-less days ( So much for fervently hoping I would get one of those peaceful, nap three hours a day at a stretch babies I seemed to be surrounded with last time round. Hah!).<br />
<br />
On that supremely sleep deprived note let me introduce you to Cube, the new and most adorable man in my life (heh, heh, <i>hello</i> P!). Here's to more Nikki and Cube tales in this space and to- hopefully- more frequent updates. Its good to be back!</div>
Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-19707430352354898982013-04-15T17:48:00.000+05:302013-04-16T11:18:29.590+05:30Unleash your Inner Diva: A general how-to guide<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Dear Aspiring Divas,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Being a diva can be tough. It requires patience,
dedication and hours of practice, but it is not impossible to achieve. Ask me! Four
years of practice (and running) later, I’ve managed to hone the art of diva-dom
to a finely tuned skill, so much so that being a true diva is now second nature
to me. I thought I would share some tips with those of you out there who are
divas in the making too and could do with some friendly advice! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Read on:</span></div>
<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
first rule of being a diva is that you must always select your own clothes.
Nobody and I mean NOBODY else gets to chose what you will wear. Take your time
when you put together an outfit; clothes are meant to be inspected, evaluated
and tossed. And changing your mind inexplicably and often is the prerogative of
a diva. So set aside a couple of hours in the day for selecting your clothes
and use them well. Oh, and keep in mind that a diva changes her outfits often
and colour co-ordinates EVERYTHING. Right down to the innerwear, shoes and
accessories, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"> </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
path to diva-dom has ne‘er been smooth so expect plenty of obstacles in your
way, especially from those pesky creatures otherwise known as the Mommy Women
who will take it upon themselves to object to the smallest of things. Take this
afternoon, for example. I had finally put together my carefully selected outfit
for the evening trip to the park when a series of shrieks disrupted the
afternoon quiet. “Purple tights with a red striped top; green shoes and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that</i> long bead necklace?? Noooooo!” It
was the Mommy Woman of course, up to her usual tricks. Her latest strategy is
to try and object to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">any </i>outfit I try
to select by telling me how the colours clash or the bottoms don’t match the
top at all or some such silly reason. Bah! Like she would know! The woman has <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">no</i> idea, which is why her own dress
sense is so blah.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> “Be exciting!” I try and tell her
“Live a little! If you feel like wearing a pink tutu over green polka dotted
tights and a yellow sparkly tee, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">do</i>
it! Fashion should be fun!”</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> None of it permeates her thick
skull of course, she just pretends she’s going into a dead faint and tries to
get me into her favourite combo of jeans and a deathly boring tee, so naturally
I have to resort to the most powerful weapon in my arsenal, the screechy
tantrum, designed to knock out even the most obstinate Mommy Woman. A few
minutes later, I have her on her knees, weeping, begging me to wear my
underwear over my tutu if I so wish. Smart idea, that. Maybe I’ll try it for my
next trip to the mall. Moral of the story: never underestimate the power of
tantrums. A good, solid tantrum can get you ‘most everything. Besides, tantrums
are the prerogative of divas, everyone knows that. So use them often and use
them well.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"> </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Make
sure you have pretty, clean, sweet smelling, well moisturized hands at all times.
And I mean <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">all</i> times. This might
sound simple but in reality it is no easy feat to achieve. For one you need to
spend copious amounts of time in the bathroom washing your hands with the best
fruity smelling, pink (but naturally!) soap you can get your pretties on. Here
again, except plenty of resistance from the Mommy Women (‘You want to wash your
hands <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">again</i>! But you just spent an
hour in the bathroom! You washed your hands five seconds ago! You can’t keep
messing around in the water! You’ll catch a cold…yada yada yada!)</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> Worry not; such petty objections
can be easily overruled. Your best beseeching look and something along the
lines of ‘but washing hands kills germs, mommy!’ or ‘I stuck my hand in the
flowerpot so my hands are really dirty and need to be washed!’ usually does the
trick. Next, we come to the moisturizing. Pink cream is my personal favourite,
great big generous blobs of it, massaged lovingly into the hands and the arms-
oh, and after a shower make sure you massage it all over. You might face
resistance from the Mommy Women here again, like I did. At first she refused
outright! Then she’d act all stingy and give me this insanely tiny little drop
of cream that wasn’t even enough for my fingernail! A few months down the line,
all I have to do is fix the woman with my best beady look and she just groans
and gives me as many blobs as I want. Remember, divas have to be persistent.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"> </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lip
balm. Aaah lip balm! Pink, shiny, smooth; gliding over your lips like melting
butter on hot toast…I could go on and on! And to think I discovered its many
pleasures only recently and by chance at that! If I hadn’t happened to sneak up
on the Mommy Woman when she was cowering in the corner the other day trying to
hide behind her handbag I would never have found out she was sneakily putting
on some lip balm while pretending to look for something in her bag. That little
snitch! I’ve punished her by hiding her lip balm in my bag; one has to be firm
about these things.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> And now that it’s within easy reach,
I make sure my lips are glossy and soft at all times, just like a diva’s should
be. Whenever I have to step out whether it’s the mall or the park, I make sure
I dab on some lip balm. Each time I get into the car, even if it’s just the
Mommy Woman doing one of her quick grocery runs. Bedtime and naptimes. Play
date times. Just looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror times. Story hour
at the library times. I even tried putting some on for school but, you know,
there are other women like the Mommy Women out there and one has to pick one’s
battles. The other important bit to remember with lip balm is to be generous in
its application. I mean, you can never have too much of something like lip balm
can you? The Mommy Woman will object to this as well, naturally, screeching and
whining about how it’s not just on your lips but all over half of your face and
may even try to wipe it off with a tissue, but remember, be firm.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"> </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When
it comes to your stuff, be protective of your turf. If your Mommy Woman is like
mine, she may develop an intense dislike to something you yourself particularly
like and she may even try to- <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sit down when
you read this</i>- get rid of it! Yes, she is capable of that too! Mine actually
tried it, can you imagine? Hard to believe I know, but one day when I got back
from the park with Daddy a little earlier than usual, guess what I found
stashed away in the bin? My favourite purple hair band, a particularly darling
one with black and purple feathers that swept right down to my brow, one that I
had been wearing in the park every single day for a few months before I kind of
forgot about it and moved on to something else. Still it didn’t mean I didn’t want
it anymore! There was absolutely no excuse for the Mommy Woman to claim that it
was just languishing in my room and it looked all raggedy anyway and to try and
trash it on one of her ghastly spring cleaning sprees. Anyway, prevention is
better than cure I say and in order to avoid any such future incidents I’ve
taken to stashing my stuff away- specially stuff that the Mommy Woman tends to
look at with that ‘far away, she’s definitely off her rocker’ look in her eyes-
in safe places where she doesn’t look or better yet, where she can’t reach.
Like that nice hole in the home theatre woofer that only my hand fits into. Or
in one of my many bags at the bottom of all my shopping lists and notes that
the Mommy Woman has given up on clearing because it makes her feel faint. Or
glued to some of the lumpy bits in the playdough jar, hidden under the other
playdough. You get my drift. Remember it’s your stuff and only you are
responsible for it.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"> </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I
touched upon this briefly in point one but it really deserves a separate point
for itself. I’m talking about accessories, the stuff that can make or break an
outfit. I have my own favourites like that purple feathery hairband I just told
you about; or my beaded necklaces; or the many bracelets that used to belong to
the Mommy Woman but which I have now appropriated. What I like doing best is
mixing and matching. The floor length beaded necklace (come to think of it,
that one used to be the Mommy Woman’s too) with the pink crown headband. The
jingly bracelets with the bangles Dadi got me for Diwali, all of them together
on one hand of course, all the way up to my shoulder. Ooh and dupattas, I
lurrve dupattas! My favourite teacher at school always carries her dupattas so
well! I’ve taken to draping my own dupatta over my shoulders when I step out
sometimes; I find it goes just as well with shorts or a skirt as it does with
ethnic stuff. It’s a pity I don’t own too many of my own dupattas but I can
always borrow the Mommy Woman’s, so it’s no biggie.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"> </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Seeing
as to how accessories can make or break your look, it makes sense to carry
plenty of them with you so you can change your look in a jiffy if you so
desire. Now that I have my own handbag, I make it a point to carry my hand
cream, sunglasses and the Mommy Woman’s lip balm in addition to an assortment
of hairbands and bracelets. If there’s any extra stuff that doesn’t fit in my
bag I just stuff it in the Mommy Woman’s; remember divas have to be
resourceful! Besides the Mommy Woman doesn’t even notice most times. Apart from
that one time where she had to pay someone and began fishing around in her
handbag for her wallet. It was quite amusing to watch her eyes grow wide and
her mouth grow wider as she drew out first my electric blue feather purse (I
was carrying an extra purse, you know, just in case) and then my Dora bracelet
and then a series of jangly necklaces. I don’t mean to boast but even the man
at the cash counter seemed quite impressed at my collection! There was
absolutely no need for the Mommy Woman to get all flushed and embarrassed and
start apologizing for holding up the queue, but that’s her, always
overreacting!</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"> </span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Last
but not the least, remember to throw your shoulders back, chin up and dazzle ‘em
with that smile when you step out! Now this is easier said than done,
especially if you have a wet blanket Mommy Woman tagging along with you, but if
you want to be a true diva you gotta be tough! Last week, after spending over
an hour selecting my outfit for a birthday party I finally got dressed and
then, because the Mommy Woman, that obstinate mule, just outright refused to
let me use any of her perfumes, I massaged some Vicks over my hands and throat.
It was quite nice smelling I thought, rather exotic. Unfortunately it was also
a little strong because the Mommy Woman sniffed it out like a bloodhound and
went at me with her arsenal of wipes. She was so flipped out after that she
came to the birthday party dressed in jeans and a tee (grey, that most
miserable of colours at that) and a long face, totally overlooking my suggestions
of that nice black skirt she has instead with a shimmery gold dupatta. But did
I let her get me down? No sir! I was the life and soul of the party and in
spite of the Mommy Woman’s efforts with those wipes I still managed to smell
faintly of Vicks. Hah!</span></li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> With that I’ll leave you to channel
and unleash your own inner diva! I’m not entirely done yet, in fact I just
thought of a few other things I could share, but one of the tricks to being a
good diva is to develop your own style which you can only do with trial and
error so I’ll leave you to it. Besides, I need to sort out my wardrobe. I
decided to rearrange my clothes today and its turning out to be quite a tedious
exercise. At first I was quite excited about it; the Mommy Woman had left my
wardrobe doors ajar and forgotten about it and I used the opportunity to get
all the clothes out and spread them all over my room. The plan was to sort them
out and club them together in some fun way, not the boring ‘day wear- night
wear’ or ‘party clothes-park clothes’ like the Mommy Woman does. I was thinking
something along the lines of a ‘Caribbean theme’ with all my shorts and strappy
tops clubbed together and an ‘Egyptian line’ with the shimmery stuff and the
necklaces, but that’s stuff for another day. My good friend S is coming over in
sometime for a play date and I need to get dressed. I’ll just lump these
clothes together and shove them back in. Hey, there’s that red and black
glittery outfit someone had gifted me last month; I thought the Mommy Woman
said it had got lost! It looks so retro and cool, I heard the Mommy Woman
saying it looked like something Govinda would wear! No idea who Govinda is of
course but I’m sure it’s someone cool; must remember to check with the MW later.
In the meantime, I think it would be perfect for the playdate with S…yes it
would! Oooh, so exciting! Laters then...and keep that diva within you glowing bright!</span></div>
</div>
Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-86007529805516385292012-09-17T18:01:00.000+05:302014-10-02T05:54:17.565+05:30Barfi...a fail-proof recipe for a sweet indulgence that can only be good for you<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Ingredients</span></i></u></div>
<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Fine,
perfectly nuanced performances by the two leading ladies; Ileana D’Cruz in her
Bollywood debut leaves a lasting impression and Priyanka Chopra in a subtly
delivered, unconventional role</span></i></li>
</ul>
<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A
liberal mix of able performances by the supporting cast, notably Saurabh Shukla
as the hapless cop who unsuccessfully pursues Barfi as the two create several slapstick
Chaplinesque cinematic moments; Rupa Ganguly as Ileana’s mother, wary of
letting her daughter make an unwise choice at a crossroads she herself encountered
in the past; Haradhan Bandopadhyay as the ‘other man’ who values and loves Priyanka for who she is</span></i></li>
</ul>
<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Superlative
direction by Anurag Basu, who makes this one of the finest films to have
emerged from Bollywood in recent times, with brilliant camera work, evocative
use of expressions and emotions to convey meaning without the aid of dialogues
and drawing out of fine performances from his cast</span></i></li>
</ul>
<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Fabulous
cinematography by Ravi Varman; bringing alive Darjeeling and Kolkata in each
frame</span></i></li>
</ul>
<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Last
but not the least, a stellar performance by Ranbir Kapoor who brings alive
the character of Barfi in a knock-your-socks-off performance</span></i></li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><u><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Preparation</span></span></u></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Take a beautifully woven bitter-sweet story of the
relationship between a deaf-mute guy Murphy aka Barfi (Ranbir Kapoor), who
although lacking the senses of speech and hearing, is vibrantly blessed with
the ability to live life with a free spirit and a, as he puts it more
eloquently than words can in the film, ‘first class’ heart, and two girls who
touch his life in different ways. One is the delicately pretty Shruti (Ileana
D’Souza) whom he falls in love with at first sight and woos relentlessly till
she eventually gives in to his charms, and the other is his autistic childhood
friend Jhilmil(Priyanka Chopra) whom he initially pursues when driven to the
edge by fate and circumstances. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Add a
liberal dose of the sweetly innocent romance between the poor but resourceful Barfi;
usually on the run from the long arm of the law for his petty misdemeanors, and
Shruti, which sadly caves in to Shruti’s inability to follow her heart, as she
gives in to the ‘safe’ option instead and opts for a more ‘eligible’ suitor.
Stir in gently the unfolding of the complex relationship between Jhilmil who
sees the world with a unique sensitivity and recognizes Barfi’s spirit and soul
in the way other, ‘normal’ people are unable to, and Barfi’s ability to
connect with Jhilmil and win her trust and affection. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Roast a non linear narrative in some suspense,
creating a plot that keeps you guessing till the very end and throw in an
unexpected twist that adds a mysterious, whodunit element as the paths of
Barfi, Jhilmil and Shruti dramatically converge.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Prepare a multi-string syrup of accompanying,
sometimes quirky; sometimes heart stirring music right from the ‘picture shuru’
ditty that gets you in the mood from the word go, to the title track ‘Ala Barfi’
and add to the mix. Garnish liberally with breathtaking cinematography that
lovingly brings alive the lush landscapes of Darjeeling and the vibrant chaos
of Kolkata. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Savour fresh and warm, this lovely Barfi that offers
a tribute to the uncomplicated nature of true, lasting love if only we would
let it take its own path instead of cluttering it with logic and reason. Toss
in the fact that the disabilities of the characters in the film are portrayed in
an almost matter of fact way, never once attempting to elicit pity or sympathy;
on the contrary Barfi’s uniqueness lies in his ability to deal with the trials
life throws up with a cheery doff of the hat and a ready smile.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">You will especially enjoy some slices of
this dish such as when Barfi expresses his deep hurt at being rejected by Shruti
through a soundless, wordless, and power packed expression of his anguish. Or
the gradual building up of the relationship between Barfi and Jhilmil against the
changing backdrops of Barfi’s rickety Darjeeling home, a tumultuous journey laced
with green fields and rushing rivers to finally culminate in the noisy,
bustling Kolkata which embraces them in its midst. Not to mention the subtle
interplay of emotions when Shruti and Jhilmil meet each other, their perceptions
of the other’s role in Barfi’s life and Shruti’s eventual realization of what
could have been hers. Then there are other little nuggets like the test Barfi
puts all his friends through; to lay his insecurity of being abandoned at rest,
and the way he rushes to Jhilmil’s defense when a leery lout is giving her the
once over, which will leave you with a sweet taste.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Dig into this delectable Barfi while it is still
being served fresh; it will leave you with a happy rush like no other, and one that
will stay with you long after you’ve polished off this unforgettable treat!</span></div>
</div>
Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-2145574957571664892012-09-11T22:59:00.003+05:302012-09-16T12:56:11.140+05:30Creativity in a bento box<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Peach coloured skies with purple clouds. Crimson
grass. Orange elephants and magenta seals. Nikki goes through a sheaf of A4
size sheets of paper, filling them up with a plethora of vibrant colours. We are at an
art workshop for kids and I’m accompanying Nikki as she experiments with finger
paint (so squishy!) and painting on different mediums (can I start painting
your bed after we go home?). There’s another little boy seated next to us who
seems concerned about Nikki’s artwork. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“The sky is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not
</i>that colour” he whispers to his mother in obvious anguish. “The grass is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not</i> red.”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The mother hisses something back at him and he
subsides temporarily.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The workshop facilitator hands out fresh sheets of
paper; this time with line drawings on them, and jars filled with fat crayons
which Nikki grabs with glee. It’s a picture of a house with a fence and a garden.
Nikki deliberates between the finger paint and the crayons, makes up her paint
and smears paint liberally across the picture. Strokes of paint fill up the
house and the garden; an indigo roof, green walls, yellow grass. The little boy cannot contain himself anymore. He
abandons his own drawing and is at our side in a trice.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“No, not like that!" he chides Nikki “You have to
draw inside the lines! You will get a red mark. Sky is blue, grass is green!”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">His mother pulls him away before I can reply and
rebukes him thoroughly for not concentrating on his work. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She turns to me with a tight smile “She cannot
colour inside the lines?” pointing at Nikki.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I’ve never asked her to” I smile back.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I did give Nikki a colouring book once; she had been
gifted a Winnie the Pooh one for her birthday and given that Pooh threatened to
overtake our theme for home décor during those days I thought she might like
it. She didn’t. She never actually took to colouring within the lines,
preferring instead to fill up reams of blank paper with her artwork instead. And fill
them up she did, astonishing me sometimes with the creativity and imagination
only children possess.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She draws the rain and butterflies, families of fish
and music. One side of our fridge is filled with renditions of tea parties in
the clouds and the moon taking care of her baby. We don’t really miss colouring
within the lines much.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I know that Nikki is asked to colour within the lines
sometimes at the preschool she goes to, and from the activity sheets I am taken
through at PTMs I know she can do it perfectly well if she wants to. But I also
know that she does not enjoy it, preferring the freedom a blank sheet of paper
offers instead. </span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We are lucky to have found a preschool that encourages
creativity among its children. There are no red marks for drawing. Purple skies
are encouraged, as are pink elephants and geese with polka dots. But I know
there are a lot of parents who don’t like this approach, preferring instead the
more traditional one of teaching
kids that the grass can only be green and colour is best used within boundaries
and not splayed all over the paper. Just last week I overheard a mother complaining
about how sand play needs to be structured with kids being given specific
instructions on what to do with their spades and buckets rather than just being
left loose in the sand pit; and another parent of a boy in the nursery class
lamenting how his child is not being taught how to write yet. I listened to
them talk and felt a little worried. And then I read the morning papers, all
about artist Aseem Trivedi being arrested for displaying ‘too much creativity’
and felt positively scared. Aside from the misuse of a colonial era law or the growing
intolerance in the political and social environment, what is equally alarming
is the judgement that is so carelessly thrown on an individual’s creative
expression. Who decides what is too creative? Or too little? Are there measures
defined to judge how much is 'too creative' or lines and boxes that it can be fitted into? Are we looking at a
future where our preschoolers go for sandpit class, learning precise
co-ordination of spade with bucket and move on to postgraduate in fine arts
which clearly specifies what is too creative and what is not? The curbs on our creativity
grow deep roots. Our educational system has traditionally been one based on rote
and memorization rather than independent thought or creativity. There are firm boundaries
that are drawn when we are very young and we grow up learning to live within
them. And when some of us think or speak differently, it can create a lot of
discomfort.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Nikki in the meantime has moved on to caricatures
and is busy sketching portraits. A gargoyle-ish figure with pointy hair is me,
I am told. One vaguely resembling Suppandi is our cook. Her father is a
dignified looking turnip. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“We will put these up on the fridge” I tell her.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Okay but not this one. This one is too nice and
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Creativity really is that simple, and it doesn’t
take a three year to show us that. Let the artists define their own boundaries.</span></div>
</div>
Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-76628486014696901792012-07-02T10:32:00.001+05:302012-07-02T10:32:41.777+05:30Travails of a work-from-home mom<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The art of conducting
an involved conversation with a toddler from behind a closed door. Work related
phone calls to the tune of background screeching and whining. Super quick bathroom
breaks, before your toddler who’s convinced that mommy has vanished into dark
oblivion, breaks the door down. Even quicker showers that leave you feeling
that emerging from a whirlwind might be more relaxing. Protecting your laptop as
you try and work, from pint sized elements who think tapping away at laptop
keys is an exciting form of recreation. Coffee breaks with the Teletubbies. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Sounds familiar? If it
doesn’t, welcome to the world of a ‘Work from Home Mom’.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">When I first became a
mother, along with the joys of endless nappy changes and sleepless nights, I
was also introduced to the complex terminology used to classify different types
of mothers. There were SAHMs or stay-at- home moms and WOHMs or working-out-of-the-
home moms. And somewhere in between were the WFHMs, or the work-from- home moms,
whose category I soon joined.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Initially, I was smugly
satisfied about the whole work-from-home concept. After several years of killer
commutes, long hours peering at a computer screen in fluorescent light and
suffering the tasteless dishwater most office vending machines serve up in the
name of coffee, working from home felt a little like having your cake and
eating it too. With an extra cherry and frosted icing thrown in for good
measure. I would get to spend time with my daughter without giving up on work I
loved doing. Plus, with office being a hop and a skip away (quite literally),
there would be no commuting woes; I could work in my pajamas if I so wanted from
the comforts of my home <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and</i> have easy
access to freshly brewed coffee. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Working from home would
be a breeze, I thought. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I was in for a rude
shock. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">While working from home
has its unparalleled benefits especially when you’re a mother, it is certainly no
cakewalk.For one, there is the
small matter of getting afore mentioned pint sized elements to behave while you
try and get some work done. Given that the PSE’s are prone to unreasonable
tantrums and sudden urges to go potty, especially when you’re in the middle of
an important call, the whole work from home jig can become quite challenging.
Of course you can hire help to look after your kids, but that often throws up a
whole new set of challenges in uncharted territory. Finding good help, for one.
And then training said help to care for your kids while you work. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I remember emerging
from a seven second shower (the norm, when you’re any kind of mom, unless
you’re <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really</i> lucky) once, eager to
get some work done, only to nearly step on my daughter and her nanny who were
both camping on the bathmat outside.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“We were waiting for
you to come out and tell us what to do” said the nanny matter-of-factly when I
demanded to know why my daughter was getting intimate with the bathmat instead
of doing something constructive with her time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“After all you are at home only, no?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Being ‘at home only,
no’ can be far more difficult than getting away to an office where you can
neatly compartmentalize your home and work life. Not so much at home, where
even if you are lucky to have a somewhat secluded space to do your work in,
people always manage to find you. I made the mistake of having a dining table
office in the first couple of weeks when I started working from home. Apart
from having to share work space with the breakfast dishes, this also put me in
the precarious position of being within easy reach of my open plan kitchen from
where my rather chatty cook would feel free to strike up a conversation about the
latest skirmish in the neighbor’s house or her son’s school report, whenever
the fancy struck her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Besides, when you are
at home, you have increased visibility of the things that you could have
happily ignored had you been away at an office. Like the dust bunnies lurking
in the corners or the pile of growing laundry. Even if, like me, you are adept
at ignoring these little housekeeping niggles, it can be tough to ignore the attitude
of assorted people who will drop in announced just because ‘you are at home’ or
call you whenever the fancy strikes them to give you elaborate updates on their
dog’s gastric condition, completely ignoring the fact that you may be trying to
get some work done. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Or people who give you
the ‘yeah, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">right</i>’ look when you tell
them you work from home. As in “yeah, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">right</i>,
and I’m Santa’s little helper.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Its okay didi, I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">know</i>” my cook whispered to me
conspiratorially last week, when I reminded her for the umpteenth time to get
on with her work and let me get on with mine, instead of giving me the latest
scoop on building gossip.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You know what?” I
asked, slightly confused.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I know what you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really</i> do. The lady on the 9<sup>th</sup>
floor in whose house I work said that there is no such thing as ‘work from
home’. She said you must be just doing some time pass on the internet.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Yes, so being a work-from-home
mom is not for the faint-hearted. And I’m not even getting started on the bad
days when schools are shut, or the children fall ill or the help mysteriously
disappear to their <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">gaons</i> for vague,
unexplained reasons. So the next time,
someone you know tells you she’s a work-from-home mom, give her an encouraging
pat on the back. Even better, take her out for coffee or offer to watch her
kids while she takes a luxurious ten minute shower. Trust me, she deserves it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Originally written for <a href="http://www.thepunekar.com/2012/06/26/travails-of-a-work-from-home-mom/" target="_blank">'The Punekar'</a></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
</div>Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-89619766936694527492012-06-18T16:16:00.000+05:302012-06-18T16:20:49.247+05:30The thirty year old toddlers<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A few years ago I was
on a road trip with friends when the bus we were travelling in stopped at a
rickety roadside joint for what was ostensibly a comfort break. As we clambered
off the bus, the lady seated in front of us turned to her daughter and asked in
a voice loud enough for the entire parking lot to hear “Susu karna hai beta?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Now this would have
been fine if the daughter in question had been a little girl or a toddler fresh
out of diapers. Except that she was a grown woman, probably in her mid twenties.
As she turned a scintillating shade of red, the rest of us could almost feel
her mortification! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A cousin recently narrated
a similar experience when she visited family friends with her parents. Now a
manager in a leading MNC, heading a team of 20 odd people, to her parents she’s
still their little girl. During their visit, her mother first asked her on
reaching their host’s house if she needed to use the bathroom. Then her father
asked her to join the host’s young children, rather than conversing with the
adults.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“It was humiliating!”
my cousin recounted “There I was, telling people about the work I do and
suddenly my parents make me feel like a 5 year old again!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Many of us have
probably been in similar situations, when our parents refuse to treat us like
adults even when we have graying hair and children in high school. Parents
don’t mean it, of course. It can be difficult to accept that the dependent little
bundle you doted on is a grown, confident adult with a mind and life of his or
her own, and needs to be treated as such. It’s not so much fun for the now
grown up kids though, when their parents insist on treating them like the
children they once were.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Considering that the thought
of my daughter going unsupervised for parties and sleepovers in future is
capable of giving me panic attacks now, I see a clear and present danger that I
will eventually metamorphose into one of those parents who refuse to let their
kids grow up. So I thought I’d set out some guidelines for myself, for when my
daughter grows older:</span><br />
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">1.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">In deference to the unfortunate recipients
of the comfort break query mentioned above, I promise never to ask you if you need
to ‘do susu’, once you’ve crossed the age of 4 and are in full control of your
bowel movements. I might whisper it occasionally till you’re 10 though. But
never in full public hearing, and definitely not when we have company. I may
know for a fact that you haven’t taken a pee break in hours, but no matter how
strong the urge (pun unintended); I resolve to not pop the question. </span><br />
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">2.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I will not call you every evening and
ask you what you ate for breakfast, lunch and dinner accompanied by a detailed
lecture on the nutritive value, or lack thereof, of the same. Not unless you
are grossly obese and these are the doctor’s express orders or you’re training
for the Olympics and need help with diet planning. After all, if I still need
to obsess over every morsel that goes into your mouth thirty years from now,
one of us will definitely need therapy.</span><br />
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">3.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I promise not to bring up embarrassing
incidents from your childhood with others, especially in large public
gatherings. I’ve been the recipient of one too many ‘remember the time she had
a sip of whisky when she was five and went berserk, bwahahaha!’ to do that. No
embarrassing videos or photos on open display either. (I hope you’re reading
this, Dad. Yes, you can put away those
cheesy videos of me at 11 years reeling off travelogue in a sing song voice.)</span><br />
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">4.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I will not tell you what to do. Once of
course, you reach an age where you realize that switching off my laptop when
I’m working on it is nobody’s idea of fun and mud baths are okay for the spa
and not the park. I mean this within reasonable limits so don’t think I’ll
stand by without saying a word if you decide to flush your life down the drain.
And I may make an exception if it’s one of those rare situations where you are
desperate for direction, or when you can clearly benefit from my experience or….Sigh.
Right. I will not tell you what to do.</span><br />
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">5.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I will refrain from criticizing your
appearance and telling you what to wear. If ripped jeans and faded tees are
your idea of high fashion, so be it. I’m sure your grandmother will say this is
poetic justice, given that I had taken to donning the grunge look for weddings
in my teens. Given your current affinity for wearing matching-matching clothes,
replete with accessories and moisturizing your hands with pink cream every few
minutes, I may just end up taking some pointers from you in this area.</span><br />
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">6.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I will not try and influence or
criticize your choice of friends. With your father turning a delicate shade of
green even now, every time you get too friendly with a member of the opposite
sex, I’m sure I can leave the worrying to him for once. On a serious note, as
an independent young adult nothing can be more important to you than having the
freedom to choose the individuals whose company you’d like to keep. The last
thing you’d want is an interfering parent telling you she doesn’t approve of
so-and-so. This means I may have to give up my plans of stalking you on dates
when you’re older though. Ah well.</span><br />
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">7.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">When you have kids of your own, I will
restrain myself from giving you unending advice about ‘how we did things in our
time’. There can be nothing more irritating than being treated like a 3 year
old in front of your own 3 year old, so you’ll get none of that from me. </span><br />
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">8.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I will treat you like the grown up that
you are and not lapse into sepia tinged nostalgia from when you were a mere
suckling. I will also try and avoid getting overtly sentimental about your
babyhood even though I can give no guarantees on this given that I was nearly
in tears when you came on stage during your annual concert, causing the lady
next to me to move away a few seats. Oh, and I will also not haunt you on
social networking websites.</span><br />
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">9.<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I will trust you to take adequate care
of your dental health and will stop eating your chocolates because they are
terrible for your teeth and will make you emotionally dependent on cocoa. Yes,
I ate the chocolate you were gifted at school today but it’s only because I
care about your teeth. And, I may be slightly emotionally dependent on cocoa
myself. But none of that once you are older; your chocolates will be safe with
me. Although I’m sure you won’t mind sharing, will you? Maybe just the occasional
nibble, then. </span><br />
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">**********************************************************************</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Originally written for '<a href="http://www.thepunekar.com/2012/06/12/the-thirty-year-old-toddlers/" target="_blank">The Punekar</a>' </span></div>
</div>Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-89566914173916083352012-06-13T10:52:00.001+05:302012-06-13T10:52:38.000+05:30When I nearly got run over by the school run<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The alarm that didn't go off when it was supposed to. That delicious extra half an hour of sleep that seems even sweeter because it is unexpected. The slow realization coming with reluctant wakefulness that it is a school day and we are now running late! The nightmarish frenzy to get things together in time. The dropping of all the usual efforts for a relaxed morning routine as we run around like headless chickens (the husband and I naturally, not Nikki who seems quite removed from such mundane things as school runs) shoveling breakfast down our throats, gulping tea while furiously multitasking and setting new records for the seven second shower.<br />
<br />
In the middle of all the madness sometimes I forget the little things.<br />
<br />
"Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!" I screech at my child as she meditates over the exact way to butter her toast.<br />
<br />
"Hurry, hurry, hurry!" I squawk as she goes about the business of washing her hands with a quiet industriousness.<br />
<br />
"We're getting late!" I work myself up into a lather as she gently blows bubbles with her own.<br />
<br />
Forgetting that I am screeching at her for my own tardiness. Forgetting that one of the most unpleasant things about going to school can be crazy, screechy early mornings with manic parents rushing to bundle you off to school and telling you to 'hurry up' and 'rush, rush rush' and 'not be slow' and 'we're getting late because of you!' Forgetting that I was only just setting myself up for a major guilt trip later on in the day, when I could have been relaxing over a cuppa instead.<br />
<br />
Till she reminded me. Giving me that look she sometimes does. Of infinite wisdom. And infinite patience.<br />
<br />
"There's only so much I can do Mama. Please be happy."<br />
<br />
And so I did. I grinned. Sang a silly song. Sat down beside her and made up a story about putting on your shoes on your own. Drove to school with the windows down and the breeze in our hair and 'mein to tuk tuk tortoise hoon' playing in the background.<br />
<br />
And we made it to school well in time.</div>Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3298794719420001616.post-65561692950371238052012-06-09T11:33:00.001+05:302012-06-25T10:27:41.511+05:30“Everybody wants a boy”<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My sister and I were
often partners in crime during our growing up years and back then I often
thought that if I ever had kids of my own I would want two girls, just like my
sister and me. It was a girlish notion, long before motherhood brought with it
the realization that bringing a child into this world is nothing short of a
miracle and it truly doesn’t matter whether it is a girl or a boy, but I
happened to mention this childhood fancy to a colleague during a chance
conversation many years later when the topic veered around to that of raising
children.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Two <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">girls</i>?” my colleague asked, raising a
sardonic eyebrow “You must mean two boys right?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I politely assured her
that I had indeed meant two girls and she gave me a wondering look, the kind
one normally reserves for a particularly slow-on-the-uptake, half-wit and shook
her head.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A few weeks ago I was
attending a function when I was subjected to the same look, this time by
someone I know. At most functions I attend these days people consider it
perfectly normal to come up to me and ask when I am planning to “have the
second one” in a rather proprietorial fashion. By this naturally they mean to
ask when I plan to have a second child since my first born, my daughter, is now
considered old enough to have a sibling and something must be seriously wrong
with me if I am not contemplating having a second child. Not so long ago this
question used to irk me enough to either retort in a rather rude fashion or
display my sometimes unfortunate sense of humour depending on my mood. These
days though it doesn’t bother me as much as it once did (I like to think it’s
the maturity that comes with motherhood) and I waver between mumbling something
vague into my glass, if I have one handy, or just smiling in a benign fashion,
which usually gets rid of the person asking the question. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I was not so lucky at
this particular function though, because the question was followed with the
fervent wish that hopefully I would have a boy the second time so that my
family would be ‘complete’.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“What’s the problem if
it’s a girl instead” I asked politely, secretly marveling at the maturity that
comes with motherhood which had ensured that my glass was still in my hand
rather than having its contents dumped on the head of the pestilential
question- asker.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">That was when I
received The Look again. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“What a silly question”
the pestilential QA, let’s call her X, sneered “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Everyone</i> wants a boy.” The motley group of women that happened to
be hanging around as this conversation happened looked on in silence, some
nodded knowingly, almost as a sign of tacit approval. What I found most
disappointing was the fact that X was of my own generation and profile; an
educated, financially independent woman with children of her own and enough
opportunity and resources to broaden her thinking. And yet she believed that a
woman cannot be truly happy unless she has given birth to a boy. The sad part
is that she is not alone. There are many women out there who believe that a
family is incomplete unless there is a male ‘heir’ in it and will go to great
lengths to ensure that they get one, from consulting the Chinese calendar which
offers pre-conception advice guaranteed to produce a male child to the infamous
sex selection clinics in Thailand. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I come from a family of
fierce feminists, where nobody bats an eyelid when a girl rides a horse while
her brother bakes a cake, and to that extent I was fairly sheltered from the
followers of the Chinese calendar when I was growing up, so it came as a bit of
a culture shock when I first encountered them. And encounter them I did, in
hordes. Women, who think only a boy can carry the name of the family forward,
financially support his ageing parents, and for whom they will not have to shell
out a substantial dowry when time comes to get him married, only to send him
away to live with strangers. Women who dolefully shake their heads when
informed that I have only one sister and no brother and who assure me that they
will pray that there is a boy in the family soon. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">These women I speak of
are not from the economically weaker sections of society. They are women from
financially affluent homes, educated and superficially broad minded. Women from
my generation; born in the late seventies, or early eighties. You politely
point out to them that girls from our generation are increasingly keeping their
maiden names post marriage, thereby debunking the ‘ghar ka chirag’ myth, are
financially independent and perfectly capable of looking after their families,
often chose their partners themselves, who like them do not subscribe to the
concept of dowry and are supportive of their partners’ decision to continue
being financially independent and supporting their families if need be. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Yes all that is true, is
the response you get, accompanied by more doleful head shaking, but a girl’s
life is so <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">tough</i>. Girls are always
unsafe, subject to the prying eyes of men, girls have to leave their homes and
go to another family, girls have to go through the physical trauma of giving
birth and then they have to give up these careers you speak of to raise their
children. Girls are cursed from the day they are born so naturally, everyone
wants a boy. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">At this point if you
have the tenacity to continue the conversation, you could ask these women, that
given that we have arrived at the morbid conclusion that girls indeed are
cursed, what could we possibly do about it? Can we ensure that our daughters
are equipped to protect themselves by educating them about safety, self preservation
and perhaps teaching them some form of self defense? Should we not talk to them
(and their brothers) about sex education from an early age, keep clear and open
lines of communication with them as they grow up so that they are equipped to
make the right choices in future? Can we give them the best possible resources
so that they in turn can realize their full potential? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">At this point I usually
realize that I am engaged in a rather futile rant because these women are just
doing the doleful head shake all over again and muttering that all this is too
much trouble. Why not just consult the Chinese calendar instead? And if all
else fails there is always that trip to Thailand. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Further probing often
reveals that they find it too embarrassing to discuss the ‘S-Word’ with their
kids, leaving that instead to the vast knowledge they will surely gain from
their peer group, and are inordinately proud of having had normal, epidural
free childbirths, because you are not really a woman until you have lived
through that kind of pain. And of course if you have to endure that kind of
pain you may as well have given birth to a boy, because at the end of the day <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">everyone….</i>you know the drill.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">This is the point where
I end the conversation abruptly because it is usually the precursor to the gory
birth story, and also because I have a raging headache by then. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I did the same with X
after she mournfully informed me that she and her husband had both been very
disappointed when my daughter was born and they would continue hoping that I
would someday be blessed with a son. She then went on to add that whenever
someone in their social circle is expecting a child, they always hope that it
is a boy because there should always be one boy in the family, and after that
having a girl is not so bad, because they are like add-ons (!).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I found myself
wondering what would have happened if X had herself had no sons. Would she have
continued consulting the Chinese calendar or pinning her hopes on the Thai
clinic with the latest technology in the senseless quest for a boy? Would she
have brought up her daughters resenting them, always longing for a boy? Would
she have kept reminding them how they had been a disappointment to their
parents by coming into the world? I can’t help feeling a little glad that X
doesn’t have any daughters.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">*************************</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Originally written for '<a href="http://www.thepunekar.com/2012/03/06/everybody-wants-a-boy/">The Punekar' (March '12)</a></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Selected for BlogAdda's Spicy Saturday Picks! Thank you BlogAdda! </b></span></span><br />
<br />
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</div>Diary Of A Stardusted Dreamerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02585808654856582998noreply@blogger.com7