Just catching up!

It's been a long break; it feels good to be back!
Although I must admit, I have been rather slack

After grumbling away at the lack of a single tag
I find I have THREE unfinished in my bag!

This one's for MRC, my partner in crime
Who inspires me to spout pomes, time after time!

Dear MRC, d'you remember sometime ago?
We started some silly rhymes and then really got into the flow!

I dedicate to you this particular little ditty,
I would've written more, but more's the pity

The husband's read my rhymes, they packed 'im quite a wallop
'Egad! Please stick to prose!' begged he, and so I've gotta stop

So thank you dear friend, your tags I love to do
I will proceed now to complete tag number two :)

Alright you can heave that sigh of relief now, I'm not turning to poetry as a form of creative expression. This was just an unfinished, long overdue tag from MRC who had also tagged me to do the seven random things about me tag. So here goes.

First the rules:
1. You have to tag seven people
2. You have to link their pages in your tag post
3. You have to leave a comment in their comments section telling them they've been tagged
4. You have to say who tagged you

1. I have this thing with books. I love reading and when I start a book I simply have to finish it, no matter how boring it may be or how much I dislike it. I will crib and rant to anyone who cares to listen and drive myself into a headache inducing frenzy, but finish the book I will. I'm stuck with one such now :(

2. I lurrrve Shahrukh Khan. I fell in love with him after watching Darr and Baazigar and Kabhi Haan Kabhi Na back to back- a special post-board exams treat many years ago and the love affair has endured. Everyone else in my family hates him with a vengeance; when I left home to do my MBA my mom tore down several (life size) SRK posters that occupied pride of place in my bedroom and called the neighbors over for a celebratory cup of chai. Many of my close friends (who share similar sentiments as my family) refuse to believe this SRK loving side to me, the only reason many of them are still friends with me is because I also love Johnny Depp.

3. I also have this thing with music. No, I don't have to listen to a song even if I detest it, thank the Lord, but if I do like a particular song I listen to it ALL THE TIME. Over and over again. Anytime, anywhere, wherever I go and I also keep it humming it and playing it in my head over and over...er you get the drift. I love rock music. I also like Bollywood music, especially the dhinchak dhinchak kind- my current favorite is 'Uff teri adaa' from KCK. If you're in a pub or a bar and the sound of this particular song causes an otherwise strong looking chappie to turn pale and groan silently, there's a good chance that the chappie in question might be P. I've been subjecting him to it endlessly whenever he's around.

4. For the longest time, I wasn't sure if I wanted to have kids. I wasn't sure if I was ready. And now I can't imagine life without Nikki. An hour or two away from home and I get this unbearable urge to rush back home and blow raspberries on her tummy. I wasn't even sure if I would be a good mom but I think I'm doing okay. Still don't know too many nursery rhymes though.

5. When I eat oranges, I eat everything except the outer rind. The soft inner, wispy white skin, the seeds, the threads, I eat 'em all. Even the childhood threat that an orange tree would grow out of my belly button if I continued eating oranges in this fashion didn't deter me. Oh, and I love oranges and can wolf down half a dozen at one go!

6. I've been in search of the elusive, perfect haircut all my life, at least since I was old enough to go get my own haircut. I go to every new hairdresser with hope in my eyes and visions of a Jennifer Anistonish haircut  swimming in my mind, but true to its nature, the elusive perfect haircut has continued to me elude me thus far. Still there is always hope and I will be off to get a new haircut this Saturday.

7. I'm a chocoholic. Dangerous things have been known to happen when I've been left alone in the house with anything that is chocolate and edible. If there were a Chocoholics Anonymous local chapter in my neighborhood I'd have been the founding member. Or the chairperson. Things have gotten so bad now, what with the post pregnancy weight loss struggle (Yes it's still on, and if you've lost all your excess pounds don't tell me about it okay?) that I beg P not to get any chocolates for me whenever he travels abroad, give him a hard time for doing precisely that when he gets back and then forage around for chocolate from hapless people whom he does get chocolates for. It's really quite sad :( Last night, overcome with unbearable cocoa cravings while watching Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, I ordered a Domino's pizza just so I could order some Chocolate Lava Cake along with it. I ordered two cakes; one for me and one for P, which was really rather generous of me, given that he doesn't even get any chocolates for me when he travels abroad. Except that when the pizza arrived he was already asleep and so I ended up eating both. Sigh, all this talk of chocolate is making me rather hungry. Maybe I'll just go make myself a cup of hot chocolate....

Okay so I know I'm horribly late and everyone who wanted to has probably already done this tag, but in case you haven't and if you feel like it, give it a shot won't you- Momo's Ma, Aneela, comfortablynam, Priyanka, Mindful Meanderer, Veena and Divs.

Over and mun-done with!

It's over! I was hoping that I could write all about how my fears had been unfounded, how I needn't have worried and how it all passed off without a hitch, with zero or minimal tears being shed. But alas, it was not to be. The mundan was the MOST horribly dreadful experience with Nikki crying so hard and so piteously that the mother in law finally couldn't bear it any more and went off and locked herself in her room. To begin with everything went wrong- the barber type razor we had procured specially for the event turned out to be faulty. The chappie who had come home to do the mundan fiddled with it for close to an hour before throwing his hands up, so P went off to get another one which was immediately washed and sterilized. My OCD which normally goes into overdrive at times like these ensured that I took my time over the washing and sterilizing, so by the time we finally got started it was well past Nikki's bedtime and she was tired and sleepy. I was hoping that the fact that we were doing the mundan at home would make her more comfortable but the sight of the razor wielding barber was just too much for her, what with her current phase of stranger anxiety being at an all time high. She howled and howled and howled all the way through, while P held her and I  unsuccessfully tried to entertain her with cartoons, music, books, toys and all manner of funny and not so funny faces. She did get a few minor nicks which gave me the unbearable urge to break the razor wielding chappie's neck in three places but she didn't really get hurt, the crying was more due to worry and sleep driven exhaustion. And the razor chappie was really quite patient on hindsight, considering that I had grilled him like a drill sergeant before the mundan and was literally breathing down his neck with not-so-helpful comments along the lines of "Naheee! Sambhaal ke kijiye!" "Dheere dheere!" and "Usko lag gayi to mujhse bura koi nahee hogaa". Yes I really did say that.
I knew I shouldn't have watched that infernal saas-bahu soap with the MIL earlier that day, they always have a melodramatic rub off on my less than stellar Hindi speaking skills.

Finally it was over and we quickly bathed Nikki, dressed her scalp with a touch of Dettol and some BoroPlus as recommended by the MIL and rocked her to sleep, before breathing a sigh of relief that the ordeal was finally over. That night as I passed Nikki's cot on my way to bed I felt a sudden pang as I caught sight of her; she didn't really look too different, just very vulnerable and tiny and lost with her hair all gone. But the next morning, once our sprightly little imp was awake and back in mischief filled action, we found that the new look suits her, she looks rather like a cute baby Zoozoo :) And now I can look forward to her hair growing back and using that collection of baby hairclips and braid bands and cute all-girl hairstyles and....oooh someone stop me before I metamorphose into that coconut oil bottle wielding amma from the Garnier ad running after her daughter for the daily champi!

Its been a long break...

...and it feels good to be back! A personal mini-crisis, coupled with multiple disasters on the domestic front of the boy, oh boy, oh bai! kind (strange how this stuff ALWAYS hits you all at the same time), added up to the long absence from the blogging scene thus far but I'm back and I've promised myself that next time round, crisis or no crisis there aren't going to be any more long breaks.

So anyway its been a crazy, crazy couple of weeks and a LOT has happened in the last one month that I was away from the blogosphere. My last post was just before the trip to the in-laws and I was bubbling over with a strange combination of dread and anticipation over the impending mundan and ear piercing, given that there was no running away from either. Well all the bubbling over was rather pointless as it turned out, because we ended up doing neither! The trip to the in-laws came and went sans mundan, with the in laws averring that the numerous merits of a bald and shiny pate notwithstanding, it wouldn't look good on a girl on the eve of her first birthday. And so it was put off till the birthday party had come and gone. The ear piercing met with a similar fate. Now this whole ear piercing thing is custom in my part of the family but not so much in P's. The mother in law looked suitably aghast when I mentioned that we were considering getting Nikki's ears pierced, reacting rather like I'd just mentioned the French guillotine and proclaimed that her own ears had been pierced on the eve of her wedding! And so, given that the in-laws were to return with us to celebrate Nikki's first birthday, and stay on for a couple of weeks, the ear piercing too was postponed till after they had left. On the basis of that happy principle that what they don't know won't hurt 'em and we could always get it done later and present them a few months down the line with a pair of happily pierced ears. Yes we are very adept at dealing with situations like these, P & I. And so a month down the line I find myself once again faced with the prospect of an impending mundan and ear piercing yet to happen. Sigh.

The trip to the in-laws went off fairly well, albeit hectic and a bit tiring, given that Nikki was down with a touch of fever. The mundan ceremony turned out to be pretty good fun, since tonsuring of the scalp had been wiped off the agenda. Just a lock of Nikki's hair was snipped off, which she didn't even notice being busy trying to shove some grapes down my throat at that moment, and that was that! Afterward we feasted on halwa and aloo-puri, bought some toys- a drum playing monkey, a large yellow inflatable ball which Nikks instantly fell in love with and some wooden blocks and went back home happy and well-fed.On our way to the in-laws home I had got the chance to catch up with an old and dear and verry pregnant friend in Delhi and on the evening of Nikki's mundan we got news that she had delivered a bonny baby boy. What's more he had been born at pretty much the exact same time that Nikki's solitary lock was being chopped off, making my friend and I believe this is surely a sign from the Lord ordaining a long and beautiful friendship between our offspring!

We got back home a few days later, just two days before Nikki's birthday. Her birthday was on a Tuesday and we had planned the party for the weekend following it so that friends and relatives from out of town could be there too. A couple of them chose to come down earlier, on Tuesday, staying on for the party over the weekend, making it more of a celebration week rather than just one day! We celebrated at home on Tuesday with friends and family. I baked a special cake just for Nikki, made with the stuff that she eats on a regular basis: atta, ghee, bananas and powdered dry fruits and my mom got one of the more sinful cakes for the rest of the crowd from a local bakery. I'd wanted to make the day special for Nikki and so taking a break from her usual porridge- khichdi we had special food for her that day: eggy bread for breakfast, pasta with cheese sauce for lunch and rice kheer for the evening snack. She loved all of it except the cake, which she refused to even take a nibble of, preferring instead to squish it around on her high chair tray but the rest of the group loved it so it was worth the effort! The day went by in a bit of a whirl what with all the people around but I took some quiet time out with just me and Nikki at 4.08 pm, the exact same time she had been born a year ago. We went for a quiet stroll in the park and sat in the grass for a bit, Nikki frolicking around, me just trying to soak in the overwhelming feeling that enveloped me as I relived all the experiences I've been through over the last one year. One year of being a mommy, the most beautiful one year of my life :)
Later that evening after P was back, we had a small pooja and celebration at home and after Nikki had gone to bed we spent the rest of the evening poring over all the pictures and videos taken over the last one year.

The birthday party (Hallelujah, its FINALLY over!) a few days later was a big hit too. It started on a less than pleasant note with Nikki having a major meltdown as soon as we reached the venue. The house had been buzzing with guests for a few days and the morning of the party had been particularly hectic as a result of which Nikki's nap schedule had gone awry, making her terribly cranky at the start of the party. Thankfully she calmed down before the cake cutting ceremony, making for some splendid photo ops and even obliged the cheering crowd by smearing the cake generously into P's hair and shirt. From then on she got progressively cheerier and by the time the last of the guests had left she was positively having a blast. A few snide remarks were passed about how she seemed to have inherited my anti-social gene, given that she was horribly cranky at the start of the party and then got progressively happier as people started leaving, but I overlooked them all. After all, the last one year has been all about The Maturity That Comes With Motherhood, and I am nothing if not changed by the experiences the year brought with it!
Anyway, getting back to the party, it really was a smashing success even if I do say so myself! We had changed the venue rather last minute to a new place we chanced upon quite by luck and it turned out to be a superb venue for a birthday party. The ambience, the food, the music, everything rocked and there was even an exclusive children's play area for the little guests. The service was super fast, with all the waiters making it a point to whisk my plate or glass away if I so much as put it down for an instant, so what if I was still midway through my meal, but I managed to stuff myself to the gills with the good stuff nonetheless.

And oh, I almost forgot, we had our verrry own caricaturist! We did too! After all that mindless dithering over magicians and tattoo artists, we finally discovered a caricaturist who could entertain all- young and old, and so we hired him for the party where he proceeded to do just that. He soon had a crowd gathered all around him with people waiting patiently in line for their turn and soon almost everyone had gotten their portrait made. I got mine done at the fag end too and was rather upset by the sketch; he'd made me look like an angry, old she-bull who's just discovered that she's been gypped by the matador in the bull fight but what made it much, much worse was that everyone promptly began oohing and aahing and saying that it looked just like me! Thankfully the party ended soon after giving me time to rip the travesty of a sketch into itty bitty shreds and we drove back home to the much awaited gift opening ceremony.Much awaited by me that is. Yes I shamelessly admit it, I was looking forward to the gifts more than anyone else! Definitely more than the budday gal who was quite happy playing with the scraps of gift wrapping paper instead. We spent a happy evening, Nikks and I, me lovingly unwrapping each gift and Nikki playing with the assorted boxes and gift wrapping paper they'd come in. There were some pretty neat gifts but my pick of the lot was a red Minnie Mouse swimsuit and pink sunglasses that a friend had gifted Nikki. She took to the sunglasses almost immediately, putting them on and taking them off with a one-handed flourish, like quite the seasoned diva and had all of us cracking up for the better part of the evening. One of the other gifts was an inflatable swimming pool, so we're all set for some summer fun now that all the gear is in place. That is, if I can get the child to overcome her fear of water anytime soon.

Life is kind of back to normal now with the grand first birthday with its ensuing chaos and excitement having faded away into the backdrop, leaving us instead with some bitter sweet memories. For the next few birthdays though, I'm thinking a quiet holiday someplace nice will do just fine. That is of course until Nikki grows old enough to start demanding Hannah Montana themed parties replete with birthday planners, personalized invites, farmhouse venues, party favors that cost a bomb and a fleet of entertainers. Gulp. Maybe I should start planning for them already!

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEECH!!

I got my verrry first award!!! Yippeeeeeeee!!! Thank you so much Buzz!

The snappy headline notwithstanding- I read in the paper today that if you want people to like your blog the headline needs to be snappy. Crisp. Say it in as few words as possible, if you know what I mean.
Er, getting back to the post at hand, so where was I? Right, my very first award! GLOAT GLOAT GLOAT.
Ahem. I mean, you know how I normally handle these things with my trademark grace and equanimity, so after I had finished putting Nikki to bed (she got a tad frightened with all the whooping and war cries and running around the house yelling about my first award) I bounded up to P as he walked through the door, screeching that I'd been awarded.
"Really? How? Where?" he asked with a puzzled look, scanning the living room for signs of a trophy.
Bah! What does he know? I bet he's never been anybody's blogger buddy!
I think I need to pass this award on to my other blog buddies, so I am going to come back and do that properly, giving it the time and (mind)space it deserves. Am all out of both now what with the impending trip to the in-laws and the million and one other things I need to do for the upcoming mundan and ear piercing and first birthday party and.... aaaaarrrgh!

Thank you SO much again, Buzz, for the award, you've totally made my virtual day, and come to think of it, the non virtual bits of it too :)

The tag that never was and other random updates

I got my very first tag a few days ago from MRC and after dealing with this with my trademark grace and equanimity (SCREEEECH!!!!! I've been TAGGED!! Tell anyone with ears about it right from S to the elderly aunt in upstairs balcony!! Call the husband to GLOAT GLOAT GLOAT- bet nobody ever tagged you!!)I dithered and dawdled over it till I realized I had totally missed the deadline and now had the inglorious honor of not having completed my first tag. You can bet P is not going to let me live this down for the rest of my years of existence on this planet. You would win too.
Anyway, no point crying over spilt milk as they say, and the point remains that I got my very first tag and I feel like I belong in the blogosphere! Yayyyyyyyyyyy!!! Yes I'm very needy like that. Thank you MRC and please forgive me for not completing the tag. You will tag me again won't you? Pretty please?

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Nikki's first birthday is coming up soon and yours truly is in charge of organizing the budday pardy. Deep breath. Several deep breaths. Stay calm, STAY CALM. Oh God, I can't handle the pressure! I thought I had it all figured out at first. A simple birthday lunch with close family and friends, at a restaurant known for its lip smacking cuisine. Then I spoke to a few random people and found out that people go all out for these things. We're talking magic shows and puppeteers and tattoo artists and what not! Of course being the firm, decisive kinds this threw me into a right tizzy and I called P out of an urgent meeting to discuss the issue like two mature adults.
"I want a magic show!" I wailed like a banshee, "And puppets! And tattoos! And a dance floor with a DJ and dhinchak dhinchak music!"
"We can do all that if you want honey" said the wise husband "But there are hardly any kids at our party and I'm not sure the adults will enjoy a puppet show. Er, and what do you need a tattoo for?"
He has a point of course. About the lack of kids at the party I mean, I really don't need a tattoo. There are less than five kids I think and they're all around Nikki's age so they probably won't appreciate a magic show. And we have a pretty mixed group of family and friends, so there can't be a one size fits all as far as the entertainment goes. So I'm thinking we'll go with the original plan. A cake cutting ceremony, a lavish lunch buffet (the chef is going to hang up his chef's hat and take sanyaas in the Himalayas if I hound him any more), mood music, and hopefully a pleasant and relaxed afternoon spent with some of the people who care about Nikki. Any ideas about how I can make the day special for Nikki and the guests are most welcome!

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We're off on a short holiday to the in-laws next week for Nikki's mundan which I am totally dreading. This is a custom in P's family and ideally we would have liked to do it when Nikki was around eight or nine months old, but the swine flu bug (heh heh! just kidding bug!) had other things in mind and we had to postpone our trip. I hope its not too much of an ordeal for Nikki, but that apart I think it will be quite a relief to get her hair cut, given that it has grown all straggly and unmanageable and is always in her face. I spend the day following her around and trying to pin it back and stuff but the child will have none of it. The sad part is she won't have any hair on her birthday, coz straggly or not, it does look rather cute :) Oh well. I hope it grows back all nice and silky and then I can get it cut into a cute little bob and pin it up with some pretty clips and bows. If she lets me.
Note to Self: DO NOT turn into one of those obsessive parents always planning stuff for their kids. Yes, even the hair, it always starts with the hair. Just let her be. If she doesn't want clips and bows, drop it.

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Nikki seems to have developed a sudden fear of water these days. She used to be this complete water baby, but now just the sight of her tub is enough to give her the heebie jeebies. There go my plans of a half hour of fun water games every day. Reminder: Refer Note to Self again.
On a serious note I'm wondering what to do to make her comfortable with water. Any suggestions, anybody?
Oh and a few other things I had forgotten when I wrote the last Nikki-dom update.
Like the way she likes to jump out of my arms the minute I set her down on our bed and crawl very fast towards the headrest where all the pillows are stacked. Then she sinks her face into the pillows and giggles, totally blissed out :) These little things make her so happy. I wish we adults could be as uncomplicated.
I've taken to keeping her awake for five minutes extra whenever I know P is about to reach home so that he can spend a little time with her. These five minutes are probably the happiest five minutes of the day for both of them as they play some silly games and Nikki is usually in fits of giggles till she finally goes to sleep, tired out.
Oh and did I mention the rousing reception P gets when he's back from work? No such thing for me of course. I'm the ghar ki murgi all right, daal barabar. Stale daal, too. I get a cold glance thrown my way at best. The "Oh there you are, change my diaper will ya?" kind.
Anyway, getting back to Nikki-updates, her love for all things musical is just growing by the day. She loves music and starts jigging up and down the minute there's even the hint of a tune. I think she may grow up to be a great dancer. Maybe I should think about signing her up for some dance classes when she grows a little older.
Reminder: Just get the Note to Self tattooed on forehead, will be easier to remember that way.

Weekend Tales, Concluding Part: Nikki's First Holi

I've just realized that when one goes and writes a post titled Weekend Tales and then goes on to add Part One in a burst of impulsive inspiration, one better come back and finish it before the next weekend rolls around. So onward ho to the second and concluding part of the Weekend Tales.

Holi morning didn't start off too well with both the maids deciding to play hooky. My part time help, who does the cleaning has been systematically bumping off members of her extended family over the last fortnight, possibly in anticipation of the long Holi weekend. "Father in law's brother went poof!" she explained gracefully two weeks ago when I looked askance at her for having not turned up the previous day. Apparently the relative in question had kicked the bucket after a cardiac arrest, and she had had to take the day off. A few days later it was the maternal uncle's cousin, who smashed his head because the ceiling collapsed on it and then the paternal chachi who met with a road accident. Just when I had resigned myself to a maid who seemed to be blessed with more than her fair share of worldly woes, she turned up the day before Holi and said that she needed the weekend off because her father in law's brother had had a cardiac arrest.

"What?!" I screeched looking at her agape. I have my flaws, but a weak memory isn't one of them. "What do you mean he had a cardiac arrest? He just died two weeks ago!"
"This is the other one" she explained patiently, the way one does to an obdurate child. "There are five of them you know."
I would have believed her too if she hadn't gone about her chores humming under her breath and swaying her hips to Uff Teri Adaa on her mobile headphones (yes, they are like that only in these parts).

Anyway I was just about dealing with that when S turned up on Holi morning and said she wanted the day off too. Now I have nothing against the help taking days off, especially so on festivals, as long as they inform me in advance. I had told them as much a few days before Holi, asking them if they wanted a holiday and they had both declined. Clearly they are more in favour of springing nasty surprises. I was telling S as much when our friends S & K landed up at our doorstep armed with colors, and S used the opportunity to make good her escape, throwing a cheeky Happy Holi at me as I glowered at her retreating figure. I fumed and fretted for a bit, wearing the living room rug thin with my pacing, when I remembered that it was Nikki's first Holi and the least I could do was make sure she had a good time.So we bunged Nikki into her pram and donning some old tees and tracks headed downstairs where our society had organized a Holi party and a glamorous sounding rain dance.

The kids from the society were spread out all over the society lawns, looking like little warriors, complete with double bottle packs strapped to their backs and strategically aimed pichkaaris, but apart from a few menacing shrieks thrown our way they pretty much left us alone after catching sight of Nikki. Nikki on her part was fascinated by all the riotous activity around her and was looking this way and that, all agape. We passed a makeshift 'Holi stall' heaped with gujjiyas and thandai and made our way towards the dhinchak dhinchak beats emanating from the venue of the rain dance. This was clearly where all the action was happening, we realized as we got there and spotted the multitudes of revelers dancing in gay abandon. Now our society is full of expats, making for an interesting fusion of Koreans and Iranians and Canadians, and they seem to enjoy all the Indian festivals even more than the resident natives. I first noticed this during Diwali, as I watched a group of expats letting off a series of firecrackers with ear splitting war cries at 3 am as the rest of the world slumbered on. They were at it even ten days down the line, making it necessary for some society members to intervene and politely remind them that the festival had ended long back and could they please postpone the merry making till next year. Clearly, the ticking off hadn't dampened their enthusiasm any and they were all out in full force to celebrate Holi the way they thought fit. One enthu chappie, who'd probably had one glass of bhaang too many was running around with a box full of eggs, threatening to pelt the rest of the crowd and the security guys were beginning to hover around zealously. We watched safely from the sidelines, till our friend S, overcome with the Holi spirit smeared some color on a passing Korean. The guy looked stunned for a minute before shaking his head wildly and charging towards us with an ear splitting shriek, and we noticed that he had a bucket full of what looked like colored muck in his hand. The sight was too much for Nikki to bear and she promptly burst into tears, making me beat a hasty retreat towards the basement parking, from where I scurried into the safety of the elevators.

P & S were not so lucky and they turned up at home a little later covered in purple goop, startling the daylights out of Nikki who refused to have anything to do with them till they were scrubbed clean.
We spent a quiet afternoon at home, playing with Nikks and were joined by some friends later in the evening. Nobody was in the mood to step out for dinner and we were considering the various home delivery options when P decided it was time to don the chef's hat and dish up some P specials. Now P is a fabulous cook but I gently reminded him that the groceries in our home that day were running dangerously low. Clearly I had underestimated his culinary abilities. Give me some onions, tomatoes and garlic, a bowl of cooked rice and a can of baked beans, and I'll be on the phone in the next five minutes dialing Dominoes. Give the same stuff to P and he'll saute the onions and garlic, puree the tomatoes, blend them in with the rice and baked beans, garnish generously with grated cheese and bake the stuff till you get a mouth watering Mexican-ish dish. And he didn't stop at that. He took all of the leftovers in the fridge, including Nikki's khichdi, kneaded them along with some atta into a soft, pliant dough and made some amazing Leftover Parathas. It may not sound terribly appetizing, but they were honestly the best parathas I've ever eaten, and the rest of the group gathered at home thought so too! The dishes were licked clean till they sparkled and we sat around, content and stuffed, singing odes to P the Master Chef.

We were slipping into a gentle, food induced stupor when the doorbell clanged, and two more friends, A & A, breezed in. Now A & A are famous for their Holi parties, where the bhaang flows freely and where the venue of the party resembles a dormitory at the end of the day with stoned men and women sprawled out all over the place as far as the eye can see. This year though A & A had not hosted a party, choosing instead to party hop all over town and partake generously of the bhaang and other beverages that other people were offering. It was no surprise then that they were in rollicking high spirits and after wishing everyone a merry Christmas and a very happy Diwali they proceeded to smear us with colors, before making an exit as sudden as their entry.

"Oh I hope I didn't use that permanent color on you dude!" A called out to me gaily as he left, causing me to snap out of any left over stupor and begin scrubbing my floors valiantly. I was lucky and the floor was spotless in no time. "Thank God he hadn't used the permanent one!" I said breathlessly to P when I was done with the scrubbing. That's when he pointed out that A had used a different color on my face. Another half hour of scrubbing later I knew where the permanent color was. And so did the rest of society, when I went to the gym the next morning with flaming pink and purple cheeks looking like a Red Indian who had forgotten to take off the war paint.
Sigh. I told you my list of embarrassing anecdotes can top yours any day.

Weekend Tales, Part One: On The Trail Of Bacchus

We had a rather colorful start to the month this time round with the well timed Holi weekend. Saturday saw us pile into a car with a couple of friends and drive off towards Chateau Indage Vineyards on the trail of Bacchus. The road towards the vineyards is notoriously accident prone or so we were told and the highway we took was liberally peppered with nuggets such as these:
'Safety on road is safe-tea at home!',
'Better to be Mr Late than late Mr!',
'This is Highway not Runway!' and
'Make love not war, but nothing on the road!'.
I was itching to take a couple of snaps but Nikki, having taken it upon herself to declare war on her car seat, was in an exceptionally frolicky mood and not wanting to risk the digicam under the circumstances, I dropped the idea.The wacky road signs resulted in regular fits of giggles as we motored cautiously along and much fun was had by all including Nikki who was chuckling and nodding her head wisely in a 'I'm so totally getting this joke dude!' way.

We reached the vineyards in good time and hurried towards the main desk for the wine tour we had booked earlier during the day, only to be told in curt tones that we were precisely five minutes late, akin to heresy in these parts, and the wine tour thereby stood canceled. Luckily our friend S turned out to be quite the Bond at handling such situations, having had years of experience of dealing with recalcitrant distributors and some chest thumping and this is not done-ing on his part later, the vineyard guys finally agreed to give us the tour. We had an hour to kill before the tour started, and by now the innards were beginning to make their displeasure felt with the occasional gentle growl so we trooped towards the restaurant for lunch. I had read a couple of favorable reviews on the net about the Chateau Indage restaurant and as we looked for a table large enough to accommodate the brood, the gastric juices were beginning to rev up in eager anticipation of the succulent kebabs and melt in your mouth tikkas partaken of by the net reviewers. I paused for a minute to do a quick scan of the items listed on the large, glistening black board that was placed strategically at the entrance of the restaurant.

"Mushroom tikka, hara bhara kebab, dahi...." I read out "that's rather a strange item for today's special don't you think?" I inquired of P. "Dahi? Do you think they have a special kind of dahi here? Specially fed cows perhaps?"
"Err that's not the list for today's special honey" P replied eying the blackboard, "Its the list of what they don't have."
And true enough, a closer inspection of the blackboard revealed "Today NOT available" etched in minutely fine print at the top! Feeling a tad dejected I trudged towards our table, visions of the mushroom tikka quickly turning into dust in my mind's eye, but the menu looked promising enough and I had cheered up by the time a rather depressed looking waiter by the name of Gopal turned up at our table to take the order.

"We'll take the veg kebab platter Gopal" we informed the waiter who promptly began looking like he was on the verge of a having a coronary.
"Too long, too long!" he muttered "It will take forty five minutes Sir! You will miss the wine tour!"
"Oh all right get us the paneer tikka kebabs" we conceded and Gopal smacked his forehead and began wringing his hands despairingly "We are fresh out of paneer Sir! I was just about to put it up on that board there. I swear!"
"Err what about the corn cheese fritters" we asked a tad nervously but that made Gopal look like he was about to burst into tears so we just gave up and asked him to get us whatever he wanted. That seemed to cheer him up significantly and he buzzed off happily while my friend K and I, the two young, oh alright, the two NEW mums in the group got busy with shoveling some food into our respective offspring. Gopal was back by the time we were done with the shoveling, with some food which was just about passable, but we were ravenously hungry by then and attacked it as soon as it landed on our table.

Lunch done, we set off on the first leg of the tour which was at the factory where the grapes were sorted and crushed, post picking. The tour was conducted by an earnest looking chappie who obviously took his day job very seriously and he looked pretty disappointed at our apparent lack of seriousness. "Please do not make the Mary" he said to S in a beseeching tone as he ribbed me and K about something and we proceeded on the rest of the tour with reverential silence, half expecting him to turn around and snap "Finger on the Lips!" if we so much as uttered a peep. I was considering making side notes in my pocket diary to please earnest chappie as we reached the bottle corking machine when we were joined by another family, headed by a beefy looking chappie with a surprisingly girlish voice. This guy was taking the wine tour as seriously as earnest chappie would have wanted anyone to. "Ah the wine corking machine!" he squeaked in an awed tone and proceeded to ask earnest chappie a series of questions about its six sigma certification that would have put even the CP* kings from our b-school days to shame.
* Class Participation, we used to get marks for this. No prizes for guessing who would've aced the score at the wine tour!

Thankfully for the rest of us, that bit of the tour ended soon after and we were escorted to the vineyards where a plump crop of grapes awaited us. The guide showed us a few different types of grapes and then informed us that this year's crop was terribly damaged due to heavy rains around Nasik. Which means that the price of wines in 2011-2012 is expected to skyrocket. He left us with some kind advice on how we would be wise to stock up our cellars and we found ourselves free to roam around in the vineyard, chomping on the occasional luscious grape. Nikki, thoroughly bored by all the non stop lecturing and quiet trooping around in the wine factory was thrilled to be out and about again and was happy to sample a few grapes which she seemed to like. It was a quiet, mellow afternoon with a gentle breeze and the merry chirping of birds and we would have been quite happy to aimlessly loiter around for a bit if it hadn't been for S who suddenly started letting out blood curdling screams and hopping up and down on one foot. Further investigation revealed that overcome with the adventurous spirit, S had ventured further than the rest of us into the vineyards and had managed to disturb a rather busy ant hill. The angry denizens thereof had marched up his trousers in quest of revenge and had finally managed to invade the more sensitive areas of his anatomy, resulting in the afore mentioned hopping and screeching. K and I offered a fervent prayer to the Lord that it hadn't been us with Nikki and A in the line of the ants' ire and ignoring the vile looks S shot at us, we cut short the vineyard excursion and headed back to the Chateau Indage restaurant for the last and most important leg of the tour, the wine tasting.

Which is really the real reason we had driven all the way there of course. That, and the expansion of the mental horizons (yes, yes, Nikki's!) project I have taken on, inspired by Aneela. I mean it was bound to be a learning experience, all those grapes, what? Plus you have the potential for teaching colors- green, purple, red (the ants and S, after he had made his intimate acquaintance with them) and the learning possibilities are enormous!

Anyway, so we got back for the tasting which is full paisa vasool at 150 bucks per head, for 6 glasses (25 ml each, I think it was) of any wine the eye can see on the mind boggling menu and in some time we were perched happily on the bar stools making up toasts and cheers. A happy happy forty five minutes of swirling and sipping later we traipsed back to the cars for the drive back home. I fed Nikki her evening meal just before we hit the road and was congratulating myself on her model behavior all through the day (I am the primary caregiver aren't I? Why should P take any credit?) when she decided the calm before the storm had well and truly passed and started howling lustily. It took me a full forty five minutes of rocking, patting, crooning-till-croaky and attempting-to-feed till I finally figured out she may be thirsty and handed her her sipppy cup. It turned out the poor baby was thirsty after all and after a few large gulps she flung the sippy cup away, curled up in my arms and went to sleep, leaving me free to torment myself with thoughts of what an imperviously imperceptible mother I am.

Thankfully (for P) I was out of my blue funk by the time we got back and after a quick meal of momos, which was all we had place for what with all that wine still jostling around in the insides, we parted ways with our friends and headed back home. Nikki continued to remain blissfully asleep, barely awakening for a quick formula feed and change of clothes, and went right back to sleep when I put her in her cot, nodding her head reassuringly a few times in her sleep as I patted her.

Which brings me to the end of Saturday and I would go right on with recounting what we did on Sunday and Monday, for it was a rather packed weekend this one, except that I seem to have gone on and on and written an exceptionally long winded post, about what was really just a very short day trip. So I'll leave it at that for now and come back later to tell you all about Nikki's first Holi. And on that note, wish you all a very (tad belated) happy Holi and hope you had a great time celebrating!

Eleven months and counting!

Hello people! I celebrated my eleven months birthday this week and I decided it was about time I made my debut on the blog scene. That and the fact that The Mommy Woman doesn't look like she's up to writing a post anytime soon. Last seen she was wandering off, a glazed look in her eyes, muttering about how kids grow up on you all too soon and some such thing. She has also taken to sitting on the couch in a semi trance reminiscing with tears in her eyes about the days of exclusive breast feeding, now that we do that only once a day. The woman has me flummoxed I tell you! I mean all these months she was referring to herself as a cow and Mother Dairy and generally lamenting her complete loss of freedom and now when I'm all for giving her a free rein all she can do is moan and groan about it. She has even given up her morning gym session and hangs around waiting for me to wake up instead, so we can do our quick round of nursing.

Anyway, moving on, I thought I'd regale you with an account of what I've been up to in my last month of babyhood. Coz next month on, I'm all set to join the tantalizing toddler brigade, wooo hooo! I thought I'd begin by telling you all about the supreme oratory skills I've honed over the last one month. My superior linguistic abilities are lost on The Mommy Woman of course who insists on reducing my prowess to mere drivel with nick names like my 'cute little chatterbox'. Bah! There are other such embarrassing monikers too. Like the other day when we got into a cab and she insisted on referring to me repeatedly as her 'golu molu'. So much so that the goofy cab driver asked her if my name was Golu Molu!! The ignominy of it all! Anyway I got my own back by chewing the cab's rather nice looking, brand new upholstery, that had the desired effect on the two of them. Golu Molu indeed!

Speaking of chewing, I've been doing a lot of that lately. It seems to satisfy those sharp white things sprouting in various places in my mouth,that are causing me severe discomfort, especially at night. The Mommy Woman and Papa Man stay up with me trying to comfort me, but they haven't been doing a very good job so far and all this lack of sleep is beginning to make me cranky. The lack of shut eye hasn't seemed to dampen The Mommy Woman's enthusiasm for the sharp white, objects though; each new arrival is greeted with excited squeals and much poking and prodding around in my mouth. These days she has taken to shoving a cold, rubbery green thing in my mouth with loud cries of 'Chew Nikki chew, its a teether!', quite unlike the 'No No Nooo' that greets me whenever I'm peacefully chewing the bathroom mat or the carpet. Of course I will have none of this high handed behavior. Nobody tells me what to chew, and I make sure that rubbery green thing gets nowhere near my mouth!

I've been having great fun ever since I discovered I can get around everywhere using my hands and knees. It looks tough but there's nothing to it really, you just propel yourself forward using both hands and knees, moving them faster for increased speed. No more lying around on that boring play mat watching the ceiling, with the only change of scene happening when you roll over. Now I can zip around all over the house! I even play peek-a-boo with The Mommy Woman sometimes, hiding behind the couch so she can come find me. It helps keep her occupied. And then there's the fun playtime when The Papa Man comes back in the evening, we zip around from room to room chasing each other till I can barely keep my eyes open and then The Papa Man puts me to bed. Hey wait-a minit! Its a PLOY to get me sleepy, that tricky bugger! Wait till he gets back tonight, the slippery eel. Do I have a surprise for HIM, I'll stay up all night a-ha-ha-ha!

The other fun thing I like doing is rolling over and crawling off at top speed. I don't do this all the time though, just for select occasions. Like diaper changes. Or massages. Or clothes changing time. Great fun. Even more than the exhilarating feeling of freedom, is the effect it has on The Mommy Woman. No wait, actually its even more fun when she takes of my diaper to clean my bum and I put my hand straight into all the poop. Boy does that send her into a tizzy! She tried pulling a fast one on me initially by putting something in my hand to distract me, but I saw through that soon enough. I don't think she was terribly pleased when I shoved my hand along with her favorite lip balm into the poop.

Moving on to more fun things, my favorite time of day is when we go to the park, mostly in the evenings. I get all excited whenever the door to our appartment is opened and we step out, but sometimes its just to wave goodbye to other people who're leaving which is most disappointing. I so love going out myself! Evenings in the park are even more fun because I get to meet my friends, other people my own size. We even talk the same language and I have great fun babbling with my pal A and riding around the park in my pram. It'll be even more fun when I start running around, The Mommy Woman tells me. Hah! Little does she know. Anyway, at least she won't feel bad about missing her gym session then, I'll make sure she does enough running around herself.

My favorite place in the house these days is the kitchen. That's the best place to scan the ground for interesting looking things, take my word for it. Why just yesterday, I found a large red thing which crackled each time I pressed it! Mirchi Mirchi! The Mommy Woman screamed and made a big fuss about washing my hands after that, which I quite enjoyed too. I'm quite a water baby and love splashing around at bath time in my tub. I even have a book which The Mommy Woman reads to me at bath time. It really is about time she got me some new books though. I mean story telling is great fun but how many times can you listen to the same stuff over and over again? I've been trying to tell her as much by flinging away the old regulars that we read every day with a look of great disdain, and she finally seems to be getting the hint. She was telling The Papa Man something about getting me new books last evening. I hope they get me something interesting. Maybe something about 'How To Stay Awake, Seven Straight Days In A Row And Keep Your Parents That Way Too'. I have been doing a decent job of it for the last two nights, but then this pain with the sharp white things gets in the way and spoils the fun a bit.

Ooh here comes The Mommy Woman now with that sinister 'time for a nap' look in her eyes. Now that's something I detest! I try my best to wriggle and wail out of The Mommy Woman's grasp but she can be a real Nazi sometimes! Best to lie low for a bit, maybe she'll forget about napping. Specially if I coo and give her one of my sweet baby smiles, that usually does the trick.
Catch y'all later then, gotta go now before I'm packed off to the cot. Drop me a line or two if you'd like me to come by more often. The Mommy Woman has been threatening to do one of her long, rambling, sentimental posts to commemorate my first birthday next month but I can come back after that if you like. I should be able to manage it, given that I plan to keep her busy with learning how to watch me walk. Until then, buh-bye!

Mommy made a boo boo

Eeeps. I've just about recovered from the most Horribly Mortifying Experience (HME)this evening. Just about enough to write this post. I'll be taking myself off to curl up in a ball and whimper under the blanket post the post, a-ha-ha-ha.
Right. The HME seems to have damaged the killer sense of wit as well.

Getting back, so there I was taking my customary evening jroll (jog-stroll, its what I do okay?) in the park, while S watched over Nikki and tried to bung in some formula into her. I was jrolling absent mindedly, minding my own business when suddenly I spotted HIM. There he was, sitting in front of my helpless Nikki's pram FEEDING her formula, while S just stood there simpering. What the hell?!! I thought to myself, bubbling over with rage. How can this MORON just randomly feed my child like that? I mean he probably doesn't even know how to feed a baby! Even S has just about managed to get the hang of it after WEEKS of painstaking effort and training! And we've just started feeding her with the sippy cup, what if he tilts it incorrectly? What if the flow is too fast? What if Nikki chokes! Aaaaarrrghhhh!! I charged towards them like a raging bull determined to take their collective cases. Bajao them like there was no tomorrow. Or no bajaoing for that matter.

"WHAT THE HELL are you doing feeding MY child??!!!" I yelled and froze mid sentence, gaping like a goldfish as I locked eyes with P. My husband. Just sitting there, feeding his child. "Oh hi honey" P said mildly looking up from Nikki and the sippy cup "Err she's my child too isn't she?"

Quick flashback to some eighteen years ago when an impressionable twelve year old was told at her regular eye check up that the twin sources of sight on her face were about to get some company. Of the glassy kind. Being the impressionable kind the young lass thought back to the time when a wise friend had told her 'Guys don't make passes at girls who wear glasses'.
Egad! said the young lass to herself, I shan't wear them either! Not unless its absolutely necessary you know. Of course the guys and the passes continued to remain absent, but the lass plodded on undeterred in her resolve of not wearing glasses. Unless it was absolutely necessary of course. What followed were a series of comic (in hindsight) events wherein the lass looked through some of her loved ones, gave the blatant cold shoulder to the closest of friends and waved or smiled at complete strangers triggering an assortment of unfortunate events.

And then one day something really embarrassing happened. The young lass trotted out one evening after college to a spot where a good friend was supposed to pick her up for a play. Good friend drove a white Maruti 800 and was often spotted wearing a red cap. As the lass neared the appointed spot she caught sight of a white Maruti 800 waiting. A figure in a red cap lurked behind the wheel. She dove right in with a loud and cheery HIII! only to freeze mid way and glance in horror at the complete stranger who was glancing back. In complete horror himself. "M-m-m-m-madam aapko kya chahiye?" the poor soul implored beseechingly. The lass jumped out as swiftly as she had jumped in, her face a fiery shade of red. Only to see her good friend doubled over with laughter a few feet away. He had been waiting for the lass and had been stunned to see her march past and jump into another car. Of course he recovered from the shock soon enough to find the whole situation terribly funny and made it a point to narrate the incident to every single person they met later that day, with a generous dollop of masala added for good effect.

To cut a long, agonizing story short, the lass decided that Enough was Enough and Something Had To Be Done. She launched a valiant search for the perfect solution and soon enough she discovered it. The wonderful world, as seen from the perfect, safe and not overtly glassy world of contact lenses.
Life was bliss. Life went on. The young lass even met a few of those guys who did make passes and she married one of them. They even had a baby. And then life got busy. The disposable contact lenses the not so young anymore lass used were used up quickly. The not so young lass didn't have the time to go buy new ones. Being a tired new mum as well as a lazy jackass she didn't go out to get new ones. Of course she didn't wear her glasses either. Not unless it was absolutely necessary. Even though she was blind as a bat, well nearly so, without them. Not that she wanted any guys to makes passes at her of course. No No No, she was so over that. *Smiles ingratiatingly at P* It was just, you know, force of habit.

As the observant reader may have guessed the lass (not so young anymore)is me and the long and agonizing (to narrate, YOU better enjoy reading it)story is mine. So there I was, a familiar shade of red, What The Hell'ing my husband as he looked back at me unfazed. After six years of marriage, he goes through these things unblinking. Comes with the territory.
In my defense, P was supposed to be traveling that day and return much much later at night so I could be excused at being caught completely off guard and thinking the male figure I saw feeding my baby was some random stranger. I mean my husband was supposed to be a thousand miles away. How the hell could I even have guessed that he would land up in the park of all places and that too at 5pm?

I was just telling myself as much and beginning to feel a tiny bit better. I mean these things happen right? It could have happened to anybody!
And then I heard her. My house help S, rolling over with mirth as she narrated the funeee storee to her gaggle of friends, who in turn took it upon themselves to spread the word, far and wide. Furtive amused glances were shot my way and I heard a few muffled giggles amidst S's brays of laughter, curse her blasted tonsils.

Gathering the few remaining shreds of dignity around me I picked up Nikki in my arms and looked her in the eye. "Mommy made a boo boo honey" I told her ruefully and marched off to the safe embrace of my home. Where I shall continue to remain for the rest of my blasted life.
Only stepping out under cover of darkness to purchase some new lenses. And a wig and some fake teeth while I'm at it to restart life with a new identity.

*Edited to add: Comments expressing sympathy and commiseration are MOST welcome. As are narrations of your own embarrassing experiences. Trust me, they can't beat my own.*

All about my baby...

...who's inching towards toddler-hood with a rather alarming alacrity these days. *Warning: Long barmy parent post ahead!*

Ten months, three weeks and four and a quarter days, 'Circle of Moms' wisely informed me as I logged on to Facebook last night. 46 weeks!!! screamed the thousand newsletters that regularly flood my mailbox every week (they would of course, given that 46 weeks ago, awash with the maternal hormones raging through my system I signed up for all the newsletters of all the parenting sites available like a perfect chump).
46 weeks!!! I repeated to myself in wonder. She'll be a year old before I know it! So I decided to do some serious introspection on whether this blog is doing justice to its raison d'etre, namely, capturing Nikki's babyhood and I've realized that if there is one area where I fall woefully short it is the updates.

I suppose ten months, three weeks and four and a quarter days is not the best time to do an 'update' update, but address this chink in the blog armor we must and I'm going to settle instead for chronicling a typical day with Nikki, given that we seem to have fallen into a rather nice routine these days. Dear God, please let me not hex myself by writing this.
Anyway, getting back, when Nikki was about five months old I set out on the path of getting her into a routine with an uncommon zeal and vigour. The well spaced out daily feeds, day time naps(we know how that went, but you can't blame me for not trying!) and evening bedtime routine were all given a valiant shot after extensive perusal of the omnipresent newsletters that were only too glad to tell me how it should be done.
It all blew up in my face of course, but you already knew that didn't you? After a few days of wiping Cerelac out of my hair at 11pm (which is when the baby was supposed to be in sweet slumber, nicely tucked in her crib) and being rudely kicked awake at 3am for a feed (which of course the baby shouldn't be demanding at all, having settled rather well into her new routine)I threw in the towel with a disgusted scheduling, schmoodling and fell back into the easy life, where days have no set pattern. And then, just like that Nikki fell into a routine! And with the exception of the occasional off day when she awakens at an unearthly hour or insists on not taking a single nap though the day, just to ensure that the old parents don't get too used to the easy life, the routine pretty much seems to have stuck on. Dear God, please let me not hex myself by writing this.

We begin the day to the sound of gentle coos and babbles if Nikki awakens with mild stirrings of hunger or more vigorous ma-ma-maas! if the hunger pangs are more pronounced, anytime between 6 to 8am. After a quick (sob!)nursing session, Nikki literally shoves me out of her face and gets on with the significantly more enjoyable activity of kicking P awake if he happens to be dozing nearby. Mission accomplished, she spends the next half hour playing with P while he gets ready for work and generally zipping around the house on all fours trying her best to get close to those fascinating objects worthy of only the most reverential pursuit: the shoe rack and the dustbin.
I try and get another nursing session in midway, more to soothe my own battered ego than anything else and am more often than not curtly told where to get off by an indignant Nikki, angry at being diverted from the riveting activity of attempting to chew the broom.

Humbled, I make Nikki's breakfast and at 9am she has her first solid feed for the day:a bowl of Cerelac with a mashed egg yolk. The twin onslaught of a well fed tummy and a feeling of tiredness, what with all the pre-breakfast activity, augurs well for the battle weary sleep fairy and Nikki takes her first nap soon after breakfast. The nap ranges for anywhere from twenty minutes on the tough days to an hour and a half on the truly blessed ones. Post nap Nikks is up and about again, so we either go down to the park for some lolling around in the sun or stay home and play with the ever growing collection of toys that is threatening to overtake our home. At noon Nikki's khichdi is served up for the midday meal and we begin the onerous task of feeding her; who wants to eat khichdi when you can instead explore the wonderful contents of the shoe cabinet? My household help S, who otherwise is remarkably competent at getting on my nerves, redeems herself each day at lunchtime by staging a (screechy, but helpful nonetheless) song and dance performance for a sulky Nikki while I quickly shovel in spoonfuls of khichdi. A bowl or two later, we're done and I plonk myself in the balcony with a well fed and content Nikki in my lap. We spend a blissful half hour in the mellow afternoon sun before heading inside for Nikki's daily massage and bath.
The massage bit is usually full of activity as Nikki rolls over as soon as she's placed on the massage mat and trots off speedily in the opposite direction, with me scrabbling around trying to get a grip on her, no easy task at the best of times and even more tricky with hands dripping with oil. The relaxing, warm bath that follows post massage is relatively easier with Nikki firmly ensconced in her bath seat (thank you Carter, how about a large bath seat for toddlers next?)and we follow this up with some fun time in her baby bathtub. Much splashing and giggling later I fish Nikki and her plastic fish and ducks out of the bath and attempt to towel her dry. I say attempt, because as soon as she's placed on the bed, Nikki does a replay of the roll over and trot off activity, protesting vehemently against all attempts at being dried and clothed. Did I mention that the bath is intended to relax Nikki to the point of sleep? Important point that, because it tends to have the exact opposite effect in Nikki's case. While sleep may be the logical next step for other babies after a massage and a bath, all it seems to do for this child of mine is make her bounce off the walls. It does have a lag effect though, for half an hour or so later we do manage to settle her down for a nap and this one usually lasts for an hour, sometimes two! Dear God, please let me not hex myself by writing this.

Refreshed yet again after all this napping, Nikki awakens to some porridge or a fruit smoothie at 4ish. Much excitement follows soon after as we wheel out the pram and Nikki figures we're going out and we make an appearance at the park amid much squealing and merry shrieking. That would be Nikki & S of course, I follow them at a respectable distance, maintaining only the highest standards of decorum. We spend some time strolling around the park and while we're at it try to bung some formula into Nikki from her new sippy cup. A few rounds of the park later we perch ourselves in a shady spot so Nikki can watch the other kids play and run around. I send my daily request to the Almighty that Nikki will start walking soon so that she and I can run around the park too, in spite of warnings from older, wiser and significantly more weary mums who insist I will look back fondly on the days before mobility descended on us. Then its time to head home again for some story telling or listening to music, before the last feed for the day followed by bedtime. Nikki has settled into the happy practice of going to bed by 8.30ish and these days is quite content to sleep though the night. Dear God, please let me not hex myself by writing this.
If P gets back before Nikki goes to bed he usually spends some time playing with her and puts her to bed himself, and we then pretty much have the evening to ourselves. This, combined with the sleeping through the night bit has significantly reduced the anti social, snappy behavior observed in these parts earlier and the 7-8 hours of sleep (hallelujah! I did live to see the day!)I've been getting has revived the rusty resolve to get back on the fitness bandwagon.

So all in all, with this happy routine we seem to have settled into, life in Nikki-dom right now is pretty darn good. Dear God,... um you get the drift right? Please let this last!

Nikki, Me and some Sunshiny Moments

Waking up in the morning and savoring the cuddly little bundle in delicious slumber next to me for a full half hour before getting out of bed.

Sipping a leisurely cup of adrak chai and watching the now bright and active little bundle zip around the house on all fours with an indulgent eye, as the husband runs helter skelter desperately trying to get ready for work on time, trying not to trip over the zippy little bundle himself. I really don't know which one I enjoy watching more.

Giving Nikki a feel better kissy as she watches her Daddy leave for work, her baby face looking broken hearted. Distracting her with a silly game and watching her cheer up. Reading 'Peek-a-boo its Winnie the Pooh!' to her a million times and then once more.

Zipping down to the park to catch up with the flowers and butterflies and the occasional friendly doggy. Lying down on the grass and watching Nikki enjoy the mellow midday sunshine and gentle breeze and generally be super excited at being out in the park.

A nice long massage with warm coconut oil, enjoying the feel of Nikki's soft baby skin under my fingers and blowing raspberries on her tummy as she coos and giggles in delight. Following this up with a relaxed, warm bath at the end of which both of us (for different reasons!) are ready to embrace the land of nod. Cradling Nikki in the crook of my arm and rocking her gently to sleep, watching her eyes close as she nestles against me looking blissfully content.

Catching up with P on his cell as he shuttles from one meeting to the next. Often P hears Nikki babbling away in the background as we talk and he misses her something terrible. And even though I wish he could be with us then, I also feel really happy that I'm not away from her too.

Trying a new recipe for a fruit smoothie and churning (literally so!) it out with painstaking effort (yeah I KNOW its just a smoothie but I'm no Nigella Lawson, and I mean that in more ways than one.Right, moving on to more cheery topics). Watching Nikki relish it to the last lick and feeling her nicely rounded baby tummy. Sitting out with her in our sunny balcony waiting for the big burpy. Feeling just as pleased as Nikki, or maybe more, when the burpy finally does emanate.

Being there for all those precious firsts: the first time Nikki showed her budding sense of self identity and pointed to herself when asked "Where's Nikki?", the first piggy face, the first time she learned to clap, the first wave bye bye...mostly just being there.

Running into the room when Nikki awakens mid slumber, crying. Feeling all warm and sunshiny inside when she stops crying and looks at me with a happy, relieved smile. You're here mama! Everything's okay!

Sweet weekend nothings

It is a strange irony of life that the nicer your weekend is, the stronger the Monday morning blues are bound to hit. Of course one way of addressing this is to ensure that your weekends aren't that nice in the first place, so that you don't actually mind so much when Monday comes around but then that defeats the purpose of having the weekend at all doesn't it?
Yes, yes I know I need to have a couple of mugs of coffee and get my head screwed on the right way, but then what is the use of having a blog if one can't allow oneself the occasional inane ramble?

Anyway so as you may have already guessed I'm deep in the throes of some solid Monday morning blues and I intend to try and get over them by writing all about my rather nice weekend. It began on a slightly discordant note actually with P waking up bright and early and announcing that he was off to work. "What what what!!" I yelped with more than a touch of wifely indignation. "But its a Saturday!"
"And its the Saturday I have to work", P replied blithely. He added some stuff about earning the daily bread and such like just to get the point across strongly and bounded out the door his laptop flapping against his heels.

I sulked for twenty minutes and then decided to take Nikki down to the park for some cheering up. We had been there for about fifteen minutes when my sister called to announce she was coming over to see Nikki and me. "Wheee!" I said and informed Nikki that her C paachi was coming over soon. "Wah wah wah!" said Nikki happily and promptly tried to shove a blade of grass she had slyly gotten hold of while I wasn't looking in her mouth.
C paachi arrived shortly after and Nikki immediately turned on the stranger anxiety mode she's been displaying for some time now. Even though my sister lives in the same city as us, she stays in the hostel on her college campus a considerable distance away. That, combined with the fact that her MBA class schedule leaves her with just about half a day off every other week means that we don't get to see her very often. Like with all other people she doesn't meet on a regular basis (make that daily), Nikki spent the first twenty minutes after C paachi's arrival regarding her with extreme suspicion. It was only after this initial breaking in phase that she warmed up to her and even acquiesced to showing off some of her recently acquired skills: making a piggy face, clapping her hands, waving bye bye and pointing to herself when asked "Where is Nikki?" Of course she points to herself when she's asked where Mommy or Daddy are as well but we'll leave that for another post.
C had picked up some groceries on her way over and was in the mood for some grub, being among the unfortunate category of food deprived hostelites who think a McDonald's burger is manna from heaven, so we decided to have a cook-in at home. We enlisted the help of my house help in the process and an hour and a half of chopping and sauteeing later we had a delectable feast laid out: grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, bruschetta and a green beans salad, recipe courtesy a friend of C's who has the unique distinction of having converted his hostel room into a not half bad, fully functional kitchenette. That done, we proceeded to stuff our faces, having fed and bathed Nikki along the way, post which she had descended into sweet slumber.

She was up about an hour later and we had taken her down to the park for some more run ins with the blades of grass when P got back home, suitably contrite. Why don't you girls head for an evening out while I take care of Nikki he suggested, catapulting himself in seconds to the hall of outstanding husbands. Neither C nor I needed much convincing and an hour later we found ourselves in a nearby shopping mall stuffed to the gills with eager shoppers, there to take advantage of the Great Year End (?) sale. C and K, a friend who had joined us at the mall, threw themselves into the fray with excited yelps, characteristic of shopaholics who can sniff a good deal from miles away. Being of a more diffident disposition, I threw myself into the nearest Crosswords to see if I could find anything interesting to read.
I haven't been out shopping that often by myself since Nikki was born and have felt strangely lost on the few occasions that I have managed to do so. Never having been a great shopper myself, I usually rely on P who really comes into his own on a shopping expedition of any kind, breaking all stereotypes of men hating shopping. Books however are another trip altogether and I spent a few blissful moments in Crosswords before C & K arrived, loaded with shopping bags. We headed home after an eclectic meal of shawarmas and momos, to find Nikki blissfully asleep and P in an equal state of bliss in front of the TV watching some match he had recorded earlier. What is it with men and cricket anyway?

C & I opted to watch Confessions of A Shopaholic on C's laptop and ashamed though I am I will admit that I fell asleep, literally five minutes into the movie. This of course is to be attributed to sheer exhaustion on my part and does not reflect on the movie in any way. The movie remains as yet unwatched so I reserve comments on it for another post. I'm a huge fan of the Shopaholic series and have been wanting to watch the movie for ages! It had released very close to my due date last year and I had had to forego the multiplex movie watching experience which I thoroughly enjoy, for prenatal squats and the duck walk. Are there any Becky Bloomwood fans out there who liked the movie? Do tell!

Sunday morning saw us up bright and early and at a lovely little park near our house, a recent discovery of P & I,aptly titled Joggers' Park. Though not a patch on the far more illustrious park by the same name in Bombay, this little park does have its own quaint charm and even boasts of a little lake with a small island and gazebo in it. P & I took turns jogging and playing with Nikki who seems to have inherited our love for the great outdoors and was having a total blast jiggling up and down and squealing in excitement at just being out and about. Jogs done, we headed to a bohemian cafe nearby where we proceeded to completely nullify the positive effects of the jogging by stuffing ourselves to the gills with cheese omelets, mashed potatoes and a couple gallons of adrak chai each.
Grocery shopping was still pending on the weekend things to do list so we staggered to our neighborhood supermarket when we were done with breakfast, reaching home in time for Nikki's feed and bath. The rest of the afternoon was spent at the altar of the Australian Open watching that God in human form, Roger Federer. Yes I support him, even when its a clay court and the mighty Nadal lurks on the other side of the net.

Feeling suitably inspired we headed out to play some table tennis ourselves later that evening before catching up with some friends. We ended the weekend with a light dinner, the guilt of the morning's excesses still lingering strongly in our collective consciences and I fell asleep, yet again!, while trying to read the Sunday newspaper which I hadn't had a chance to even look at during the course of the day.
I was feeling rather blue this morning, as I do most Monday mornings which is quite strange given the fact that I don't work anymore and really shouldn't be suffering from the Monday morning blues. Blame it on the weekend hangover. Nothing a cup of coffee can't cure I suppose. And then, there's always the promise of the next weekend just five days away!

Snippety Updates

I was re-organizing Nikki's wardrobe today and I was stunned to see the number of clothes she has outgrown. All the pretty little summery sleeveless frocks that I'd packed away for later because its too chilly these days. Several bodysuits I hadn't pulled out for a while. The frilly bonnet she looks so cute in. She's outgrown them all! It broke my heart to see how tiny the clothes seem in comparison to what seems like just yesterday, when they were a tad over sized. I tell you I'm SO not prepared for the way Nikki is just growing up on me overnight. It'll just be a matter of days before she leaves home for college and I sit by the window weeping wistful tears and reminiscing about her babyhood. Sniff. Maybe I should just change the name of this blog to goodbye babyhood.

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The blissful ease with which Nikki used to fall asleep on her own in Goa has become a thing of the past but the sleep struggles are a lot easier to deal with now. On most days that is. Over the last couple of nights Nikki has taken to waking up every 3-4 hours screaming blue murder. Her frantic shrieking has an instant effect; P & I spring out of bed and leap to her cotside to soothe and pacify. Except that no amount of soothing and pacifying works. Or even rocking, singing or even that erstwhile instant pacifier: nursing. After what seems like hours of walking up and down, patting and comforting, she finally nods off and if we're lucky stays that way for some time. She wakes up at 6am like clockwork of course, all bright and sunny smiles and demands to be fed and played with instantly.
We met the good pediatrician today and I hopefully asked if this night waking could be a result of teething and if there was anything we could do about it. Oh its just a passing phase, could be due to anything, some kids behave like this till they're 3 or even 4, she told P & I cheerfully, leaving us reeling in our tracks. The thought of a few more years of sleep deprivation has convinced us that some serious sleep training is probably due. Dr Ferber, here I come.
While on sleep, Nikki has figured out what methods normally work at putting her to sleep and has devised several smart stay awake strategies. Like rocking herself vigorously while nursing, or pulling her own hair while she is being rocked and the most ingenious one of all; clutching tightly at my clothes or managing to entwine her fingers with mine as I put her to sleep. It requires Houdini like manipulation to get myself un-entwined, offering ample opportunity in the process for the child to be all bright and awake again. Maybe Dr Ferber will have some tips to handle this as well.

*******

Yesterday P & I decided we needed to be a little more adventurous and experiment with pizzas other than those of Dominoes and Pizza Hut. We'd tried Garcia's and Smokin' Joes once each in the past so we decided to go for Papa Jones. Bad decision. The pizzas tasted like cardboard cutouts with sawdust toppings. Quite surprising, considering so many of our friends had spoken quite highly about the place. Maybe they were just having an off day.

Have you noticed how the service quality of these pizza delivery guys is directly correlated to the cost? Here are a few sample conversations to illustrate:

Scenario One: Dominoes/ Pizza Hut

Delivery Guy: Good Evening Ma'am, myself Hercules (I swear that's what he said), this is your order one large chicken supreme pizza with garlic bread and cheesy dip and some extra oregano and chilly flakes and paper napkins and one copy of our menu. Thank you very much for ordering from Dominoes/ PH, enjoy your pizza, good night!
You, somewhat dazed after the verbal onslaught: Err..righto, yes, thank you, good night!

Scenario Two: The relatively cheaper Smoking Joes

Delivery Guy, gruffly: Smoking Joes Pizza. Your bill.
You, after making the payment and still impressed by the Dominoes/ PH guy: Thank You! Good Night!
Delivery Guy: Snorts and walks away

Scenario Three: the relatively cheapest Garcia's

You open the door. Delivery Chappie shoves the pizza and the bill, in that order, in your face.
You: One minute, I'll get my wallet.
Delivery Chappie: Grunt
You hand over the cash and are about to shut the door when the delivery chappie barks: Coupons!!
You: Huh?
Delivery Chappie roars: COUPONS. You have taken our Friday Special offer today because you had the discount coupons. Now Gimme!
You, scrabbling nervously in the drawer: Yes, yes one minute, here it is.
Delivery Chappie, now in a really menacing tone: This coupon has the wrong date, do you have the right coupons or not?
Thankfully you find the right coupon soon after and hand it over. Delivery Chappie grunts while you are doing the finding and finally leaves with one last menacing stare. By now the pizza is cold and you've lost your appetite anyway.
I think I'm just going to stick to Dominoes/ PH from now on. What with the lack of sleep and resulting frazzled nerves, I can do with all the politeness and friendly service I can get!

Of beaches and bliss

Our much anticipated Goa trip finally happened in mid December and even though I'd been waiting to blog about it as much as making the trip itself, I'm only getting down it to after nearly a month thanks to the villainous net connection and my remarkable efficiency at procrastination. This was our first proper vacation with Nikki, not counting the one trip to the in laws when she was just ten weeks old and a few one off road trips now and then.

I'd somehow always harbored the notion that relaxed vacations would be a thing of the past after P & I had kids, and used this with great success as a handy weapon to pack many more vacations in five years of pre-baby married life that P would have normally liked to go for (just vegetating on the living room couch makes the man happy, who needs vacations?). So I was a little stressed at the thought of the upcoming Goa trip. Was it going to be one of those horror vacations with kids I'd seen in movies and sometimes witnessed first hand, at the end of which I'd need another vacation just to recover?

"No way mater" Nikki would have said if speech and vocabulary had been on her side a little more, "bring on the holidays, I say!". Right from the flight to Goa where she brushed off my concerns with air pressure, chucking the cotton balls I'd stuffed in her ears at the hapless passenger next to us and choosing to look around instead with supreme alertness, to being superbly cooperative with the meals and the naps, the child has proved beyond a doubt that she's a born traveler. *Short pause to thank the Dear Lord for his Mercies. Thank You!*
Probably the only person who was hassled on the flight was the unfortunate chap next to us, to whom Nikki decided to take a great fancy. This guy was one of those cool looking studs complete with his own neck rest pillow, eye pads and mini laptop on which he intended to watch a movie as he gorged on a box of Ferrero Rochers. That was before Nikki, fascinated by the laptop, pillow, eye pads and his egg shaped bald head tried to be friendly and babbled eagerly at him. The guy just ignored her so she swatted at him to catch his attention, but he continued with the cold shoulder treatment and not wanting to be classified as one of those irritating mothers who don't even want to try and control their unruly kids, I held her next to the window to show her the clouds which she remained fascinated with for a large part of the flight.

We reached the resort around dinner time and I fed Nikki her dinner and sat her down in the baby cot provided for us as P & I debated whether we should check out one of the many restaurants for dinner or just play it safe and stick to room service. We were just about settling on room service given the fact that Nikki had been on the go all day and would probably be getting cranky when we noticed her fast asleep in the cot! She had fallen asleep ON HER OWN. Just like that! For the first time in her life. Those of you who follow this blog would be familiar with my sleep, or rather lack of sleep related travails. Suffice to say, Nikki falling asleep on her own, without any nursing, rocking, walking up and down, crooning or permutations and combinations thereof was a milestone event, significant enough to be classified as history in the making.
"I want to relocate to Goa." I told P. "Let's not celebrate too soon" he warned, "this may just be a one off thing."
It wasn't. Our week long holiday settled into a blissful pattern as Nikki fell into an easy routine of fuss free feeding and blissfully falling asleep on her own, all beautifully coordinated with our own meals.

We would typically get up early and head to the beach for a stroll, return to our own room to feed Nikki and then go to the restaurant for our own breakfast, where she would happily play in her pram and observe the other kids milling around.The rest of the day would be spent either lolling by the pool (I did the lolling, P actually fit some swimming in) where we even managed to play our very own version of water polo or at the resort's well equipped indoor activity center. Evenings were dedicated to the beach where the resort had a superbly equipped water sports activity center; banana boat rides, para sailing, jet skiing they had it all! I even overcame my hydrophobia to do some beach para sailing and floated around for the rest of the day feeling like a total Bond.
P & I rented a bike and took turns at cycling around on the beach; windswept hair, the salty sea breeze blowing in your face, it was total bliss! I thought Nikki would be awestruck by the beach since it was her first time there and went a little berserk hopping around pointing out the waves and the sand and the seaaa, look look! and generally making a complete ass of myself, but the girl remained quite unimpressed. She looked around nonchalantly for a bit, noted said sea, sand, waves and setting sun being pointed out by hysterical mother, patted me gently on the shoulder and nodded off. Again! "I want to relocate to Goa" I said to P, firmly this time. He said he was seriously considering it himself.

Nikki stuck to her wonderful routine of turning in regularly by 8 or 9pm everyday leaving us free to conquer new territories in the gastronomic domain and we obliged by stuffing our faces at the various unlimited buffets till we could have rolled quite effortlessly like footballs from one end of the resort to another. Evenings in Goa were pleasantly balmy and we spent many of them wandering around the manicured lawns, with Nikki completely enthralled by the night sky and the large fountains gushing out water in merry tinkles in the center of the resort.

On a couple of days we took turns to baby sit while the other sneaked out to fit in a bit of pampering at the spa or working off some of the excesses consumed in the gym. We even managed a spot of shopping which I quite enjoyed, until the shop lady latched on to me and began telling me how she hated her job and had been trying for a baby for three years and how all kids loved her. I was being sympathetic till she insisted on holding Nikki who promptly began bawling her head off causing me to beat a hasty retreat.

Vacations for me normally end with a heavy heart, but this time round we had fitted in a weekend stop at our friends' B & N on the way back making it the perfect end to the perfect holiday. We braved the chaos at the Goa airport, including a run in with an obtuse airport official who didn't want us to take Nikki's stroller all the way to the aircraft like we had done on our way to Goa, and sat back in the flight feeling rather chuffed at how well we'd pulled it all off. The flight back was pretty relaxed which significantly increased the chuffed-ness and we spent a lot of time telling B & N how we'd had all our meals in the restaurant and how all our evenings were relaxed and how Nikki went to sleep on her own all the time and remained that way even when we- hold your breath!- transferred her from cot to car seat, until they got a little bored and told us to shove it. Shove it we did and and spent a pleasant evening going thru the holiday pictures and chatting about life with kids (B & N have a daughter a little older than Nikki).
The perfect end wasn't so perfect after all because that night I came down with a high fever and the next day Nikki and P fell ill too. The next week back home was pretty lousy what with battling a combination of the post holiday blues and the bug we'd got but we're all okay now.

I want to end this post on a happy note, so I've reserved the best for last :) The most fabulous thing about this holiday aside from the fact that the three of us got to spend so much bliss loaded time together was Nikki's fully loaded happiness quotient; she was just so full of joy all through that it was a delight to watch her. Whether it was the giggling on the flight, the unadulterated delight as she watched other kids splash around in the kiddy pool,the glee reserved for the towel swans on our bed every day made by the resort staff or the well fed ducks in the hotel lawns, I've never seen her so blissfully relaxed and happy before. She even broke into song one afternoon as we went for a stroll around the resort, in perfect tune with P who was humming too!

So even though the relocation to Goa remains a distant dream (I'm still working on it) I've moved to the next best thing; planning our next holiday, that'll happen hopefully sometime soon! Here's to more fun, family times ahead :)

Edited to add: *Kala Tikka* as suggested by Preeti.

That bittersweet chocolate called life

Since I was cruelly cut off from the joys of blogging last month, many a post that I had penned on the happenings in December didn't get its fair share under the blogosphere sun. Here's one such that I intended to post the day we got cut off, a snippet from some happy days spent in December:

Nikki and I have been having the time of our lives these last couple of days! My grandparents, Nikki's great grandparents, are in town and right about now life totally rocks! I've always been very close to my grandparents since they pretty much raised me when I was little, with both my parents away at work. Even though they lived far away from us, between the two of them they always made sure either one was at home with me, so that I didn't have to be alone with the maid. I'm sure it wasn't easy for them, shuttling between cities and managing two homes. Their youngest son, my uncle, also lived with them then and was a student, so they had to manage that bit as well.
Additionally my dad was in the Navy which meant frequent transfers were a way of life, but they were always there when I needed them. As a result, some of my fondest childhood memories are built around happy times spent with my grandpa and grandma.
Like learning to read with my grandpa which got me started on the never ending love affair with books. Or playing house with my grandma who went to great pains once to organize a doll's wedding for me replete with miniature puris and aloo bhaji for the dolls :)
Or my first day at kindergarten when I was howling for my Aajoba (grandfather in Marathi)and the teacher who didn't understand a word of Marathi (my dad was posted in a little coastal town in the South then) thought Aajoba meant mother in Marathi. I don't think my mom was very amused, when, a few weeks later the teacher addressed her as Aajoba at a parent-teacher interaction!

As I grew older and started spending more time in school, my grandparents started coming to stay with us less often. But I would meet them at least once a year during the summer vacations when either they would come to stay with us or we would go to the little army town where they lived with my uncle. Those summer vacations were the stuff dreams were made of. Apart from the full on pampering that my sister and I received large doses of, our grandparents also let us live our Enid Blytonian fantasies to the full by joining us in 'nature walks' (romps in the nearby park), organizing tea parties with the neighborhood kids and pretending not to notice when we would prowl around the house spying on other house guests, on an over dose of Five Find Outers or Secret Seven.

The annual trip to my grandparents remained a regular feature over the years, even though with time the duration of the visits grew shorter every year. With mounting work pressures and crazy schedules, it became difficult to fit in enough time for a long, langurous vacation at my grandparents but we still tried to squeeze in at least a weekend or two. But when I found out I was expecting Nikki even that became impossible what with my doctor's strict travel restrictions.
After Nikki's birth we decided we would take her for a visit to my grandparents' once she was three months old, and I started looking forward to the trip eagerly. But as luck would have it the swine flu wave hit hard just then and Nikki's pediatrician warned us against traveling with her, especially to far flung places where it would be difficult to get immediate medical attention. So we decided to postpone the trip to when Nikki was a little older. My grandparents were having none of it though and decided they had waited long enough to see their first great grand child. They took matters into their own hands and those who know my grandparents well, will tell you that when they do that there's not much one can do but give in quietly.
And so it was that early December saw a 90 year old great grandpa and an 84 year old great grandma get on a plane and travel halfway round the country to meet their great grand daughter.

I felt a surge of emotion when I saw my grandparents at the airport, they looked so frail and vulnerable emerging out of the airport even though my dad was right beside them, so lost among the throngs of people swarming around them. It had been some time since I'd met my grandparents and I was a little taken aback when I first saw them; Aaji (Marathi for grandmother) was bent over slightly with age and Aajoba looked much older than when I had last seen him. But all my anxieties were dispelled after we'd spent some time together, they were as full of life as ever! It's a testament to their superb fitness levels that even at this age my grandparents are supremely fit and can enjoy all the pleasures life has to offer; they don't have too many restrictions on food even though they eat light, they can read & write just as well as the rest of us, enjoy music and movies and my 90 year old Aajoba still wakes up at 5am every morning, like clockwork, for his 40 minute daily walk. It's like a virtuous circle; with all their faculties in the pink of health they enjoy life to the hilt, which in turn boosts their fitness levels.

Nikki took to them almost instantly, especially Aaji whom she greeted like a long lost friend before bounding into her lap where she stayed for the rest of their stay, choosing to give me the complete cold shoulder. Aaji took to feeding Nikki all her meals and even insisted on giving her a massage or two which she did with great adeptness. Aajoba would entertain her for long stretches of time, sitting with her in our little balcony and singing silly little ditties that would have her in raptures. I loved watching Nikki with them, feeling so blessed that she could spend so much time with people who were just overflowing with love for her. And it was so amazing to see how effortless they made the whole parenting thing seem; whether it was handling a minor bump or bruise, a feeding related frenzy or sleeping troubles, Aaji just breezed through it all, making it seem like a total cakewalk! She also had this wonderful repertoire of age old games that were a fantastic combination of fun & learning, and that Nikki thoroughly enjoyed.

And yet amongst all these slices of happiness I just couldn't help the occasional morbid thought that flitted in persistently as I watched my grandparents in the twilight of their lives. Was this going to be their last trip to my home? Would this be the last time they saw Nikki? When would they get to see her again? When would I get to see them again?
Thankfully I snapped out of this morose space soon enough to snap back to reality, where I was surrounded by so much love and happiness and decided that I was going to make the most of the here and now. I've also resolved that I'm going to try and ensure that Nikki gets to spend as much time with her great grandparents as possible, so we're going to see a return of at least some bit of that annual summer sojourn.
I've also been extremely trigger happy the past few days, with my digicam constantly appended to my right hand as I click snaps to the galore and make tons of videos to capture all the memories so I can show them to Nikki later or watch them myself a few days down the line, on a lonely winter afternoon when I feel a little bereft thinking of my grandparents thousands of miles away. In fact I think I'm going a little berserk with the picture taking coz Aaji just remarked that in this trip I've seen them more through the lens of the camera than through my own eyes.
So for now, I'm going to set the camera aside and just go and soak in the sun while I watch Aaji & Aajoba play with Nikki, and fawn over her every move even as they reminisce about my own childhood so may years ago and make it sound like it was only yesterday that I was a little girl myself. And as for all those precious moments that remain unshot by the camera, I'll just capture them in my heart.

We're back!

At long long last! After one whole month of being cruelly cut off from the blogosphere, the powers-that-be at the ones who provide us with our internet connection finally deigned that enough suffering had been bestowed on our hapless household and re-connected us today.

About time too since I was on the brink of completely and totally losing my marbles at this random disconnection of my life line and support system rolled into one. It all started in the first week of December when I logged on in a particularly chirpy mood, my heart singing like a bluebird, a new post on my lips...er fingertips. 'Problem with server' said the screen when I tried to log on. "Pish tosh" said I, blissfully unaware of what lay ahead. "I'll just try again later". 'PROBLEM WITH SERVER' said the screen a trifle more forcefully the next time I logged on, just in case I'd missed the point the first time round.
"What the hell!" I said forcefully and did the first thing any strong woman in her right mind would do in a sticky situation such like.
I called P.
"The internet connection's not working!" I wailed theatrically and then proceeded to tell P how my blog would now die a slow and painful death. "I'll lose all my readers, all 1.5 of them!" I screeched. "DO something!"
"I'll look right into it honey" promised P and promptly forgot all about it. A few days later we figured that our connection had been cut thanks to a little mix up at the service providers end. Namely, they had misplaced the cheque we had handed over by way of payment and had then gotten rather confused because while the register clearly stated that said cheque had been received, the payment hadn't come thru since post receipt the cheque had gotten lost. In their wisdom they promptly went ahead and canceled our connection and then sat back twiddling their thumbs waiting for us to come knocking at their door as they knew we would.

After much deliberation and back and forth and also thanks to the complete absence of any other solution we've had to make the payment all over again thanks to the lousy little buggers (you know what I really want to say) but at least I'm connected again and it feels good SO to be back!

Much has happened in the real world while we were away from the virtual one. My grandparents (Nikki's great grandparents) came visiting and much fun was had by all. After they left we went off to Goa for a holiday and had the most fantabulous time ever! Of course we came back and promptly fell ill, all three of us, but we're all fine now, and it wasn't swine flu, so all's well that ends well! We've also had a rather nice festive season this time round with a lot of quiet time with family and friends and Nikki's first New Year was brought in in style. And 2010 begins on a celebratory note too, since Jan happens to be the month in which I celebrate my birthday and P & I celebrate our wedding anniversary. So here's to many new beginnings and many more good times ahead and on that happy note wish you all a very happy new year and hope you have a fabulous year ahead!