Bits And Pieces

Bay View

2012-01-14T20:39:00.000+05:30

Well, Happy New Year readers ! This year began on a bittersweet note, the hubby is out of station for a few days, but my mother is here to stay for a few days. And that is why I could squeeze out some time for another of my attempts at teaching myself water colour painting. It's not perfect, but I've reached the point where I must stop. The original picture is not mine, but taken from a website which allows members to upload photos and also paint from photos uploaded by other members.


Source:Paint My Photo

And here's my attempt

Barn

2011-08-28T20:40:00.001+05:30

These last few days have been, as usual, very hectic, but somehow I've managed to squeeze out some time to attempt another water colour painting for a challenge taken from this photo at a nice website for painting enthusiasts . Going by the quality of entries, I hav'nt really got any hope of winning, but the very idea of a deadline and the urge to do some thing un-mommyish for a change were the spur to paint this

What Mommyhood taught me

2011-07-05T21:08:00.001+05:30

Well, it's been a long time since I've posted anything here, and rather than own up to sheer laziness, I'm going to blame it on being a mom to a very active and curious little boy. So it's only fitting that I break the blog fast with a post that I've been tagged to do by this lady on "What Mommyhood taught me".I have a sneaking suspicion that Im going to be in mommy school for a long time to come and may not be a very good student at that, but still , here's some of what I've learnt so far,

To keep a straight face against all natural instincts to the contrary, while telling the kid in a stern voice, to "Keep-it-back/That's-Not-For-You" . Of course,the monkey has learnt this lesson too, because more often than not, he turns around and wags his finger at me while holding the said object and informs me "Mamma, Noffaayooo".

That if the kid is awake and out of visual range, silence is NOT golden. In fact, it's almost a sure sign that there is some cleaning up of house,kid and clothes looming in mamma's immediate future .

To marvel at how little it takes to make the kid happy, how long it takes me to figure out what that little thing is,and how easily he forgets what grouches the two of us were in the process!

Spelling and rapidly at that , things like B-I-S-C-U-I-T-S while asking the spouse if he wants any with his tea, lest a certain person/sponge who has been taught by grand-persons-who-shall-remain-unnamed to say "beeesheeet" should pipe up after having filled his stomach with the same!

That when the kid's ears go back and heels are dug in due to the mulish genes( inherited from the pater as he's only got the good stuff from me) kicking in , distraction is the name of the game. Unfortunately, mamma hasn't learnt this lesson too well and is often too distracted by the sheer volume of the tantrum to apply it on time!

The Good , The Bad and The Rant

2010-10-07T12:25:00.000+05:30

The Good

Being able to go to a dance class,

The Bad

Being able to go to a dance class for just three weeks.

The Good

Knowing that the tiny weight loss is real,

The Bad

Being asked by a "well meaning" acquaintance , "Why have you put on so much weight?"

The Good

Telling said acquaintance "Actually, I've lost some weight!"

The Bad

Not being able to tell said idiot that he's being rude and insensitive and doesnt have a clue!

The Rant

What is wrong with people? Do they not understand that pointing out obvious things like weight gain to heavy people is insensitive to say the least. Whats wrong with me? Why do I put up with idiots like that in the name of politeness? I dont need to explain the obvious, yet I do. Yes, I have eyes, I try , I succeed, I fail,I try again WHEN I can, like everyone else does at many other things in life.

At the stroke of midnight

2010-08-31T21:08:00.000+05:30

I had painted this, a few months ago, for my mom, who seems to think that I'd like nothing better than to sit and paint glass(maybe she's right).

The picture was taken before it was framed, hence the bland white thermocol background. The folks are due in a few days, so things like this will (hopefully) be made on demand , while the kid is babysat by grand folks.

Not quite a flower vase

2010-08-25T13:55:00.000+05:30

I follow a few painting blogs, and some time back , got bitten by the watercolour painting bug. So last week, I just decided to let Artim do what he wants, and let the maid deal with him, while I scratched my itch. Here's what came of my interruption filled two hours with watercolours and a few leaves in a flower vase.

I know I have a long way to go, but I just loved the satisfaction that I got from indulging myself . The best part of course was showing the hubby that I could actually "leave the kid to his own devices and clean up later", once in a while. Actually, more than that, because that's exactly what I am doing now while he watches the gardener do his thing, with his nose (and hopefully not his tongue) pressed against the screen door. Of course he would like nothing better than to assist the gardner...

The Arti ONE

2010-07-15T08:55:00.001+05:30

Some moments seem endless,and yet a year later, I can scarcely remember the discomfort of the restless nights, the hospital stay , the pre-op room ... When I looked at the clock then, every minute, wondering , praying , hoping to come out of it with some of my old self back, little did I know, that a year later , I wouldn't even care. All that I remember now is that first loud,lusty cry which made me smile and forget all about asking the long suffering anaesthetist for a blow by blow account of "What are they doing now?". All that I see now is my precious sleeping bundle of joy a.k.a the little slave driver, who'll wake up soon and drive us , his devoted slaves nuts, as he has for this last one year.

Happy Birthday Artim

May I have your kind attention please,

2010-07-13T13:49:00.001+05:30

My dear friends, readers (if any) , blogging friends and all combinations thereof,

How have you been? Sorry, for the long absence folks, things have been busy and Artim's ma has been lazy-er than usual .Other than that I've been well , as well as one may deem sitting around and getting heavier by the day to be.

And now for the Artimator update,

-One tooth has made it's mamma biting appearance.

-The house is yet to be baby proofed, so Artim has taken matters into his own hands

- The garden has been inspected and watered, for which service , the gardener may or may not be thankful.

-One set of grandparents are being visited , with a vengeance. The others are waiting for their turn.

And now her laziness, the Artimater's mater is going back to her book/nap, catching up/storing up her strength for the 15th of July.

love,
Mini/MRC/Monishikha

PS: Piper and Shail, thanks for the tag, will be posting it soonish, as soonish I can think of what to say.

Leo

2010-06-08T15:25:00.001+05:30

The children came home from school to find a white ,furry bouncing ball of energy in the courtyard. He defied all attempts to be caught, and bounced ceaselessly up and down, nipping at stray fingers held out to catch him and cuddle him. He was just a foot tall, in all probability, the product of a one night stand. A half bred they called him, and gave him away to their friends when he began to eat his brothers and sisters out of home an hearth.

His indomitable spirit defied all attempts to educate him, and the only time he would sit still, one crooked ear quivering with eagerness, was when the cook put down his bowl of milk, and told him to "STAY".He was not discriminating about his friends, all dogs big and small were challenged equally and he would come zipping down the lane , a few Dobermans and Alsatians snapping at his heels, wriggle his way through the wooden gate and immediately turn around and thank them for seeing him home and ask them to move on.

He didnt ask for much, apart from being fed and allowed to sleep on warm laps ,to chew on a few toes,hide a few ice cubes in the garden, shake a few cabbages to death and to be immediately let in the house after a few barks under the bedroom windows in the wee hours

of the night .

The days flew by, and the academic year was almost over . The children spent their days pretending to study , and the house was being packed up for moving soon after the exams. The father went ahead to his new posting and the rest of the family was soon to follow.

One night, as the mother finished her nightly phone call to the father, she realised something was amiss. Her toes felt soft and the usual pain from being gnawed on by sharp puppy teeth was missing. It was 11 pm, and the dog was missing ! He had failed to realise that with father away, no doors would be opened for him at unearthly hours. Well, since she couldnt abandon him to the chilly winter night, she decided to get him inside the house immediately.

So it was , that late one moonlit night ,a mother and her teenaged daughter stood in the shadow of a garage wall.They looked around at the empty fields behind the garage, hoping to see some sign of him.After a while they decided to call out his name again,

"LEO , LeeeeOOOO ,LeeeeOOOOO , Leo leo leo leo leeOOOOOO "

Ten minutes later, there was still no sign of Leo, and they were resigned to leaving him to his night on the tiles. Just as they decided to go back inside the house, the daughter felt something brush past her shins , heard a squealing noise and something white and soft hit the garage wall with a thud , rebounded at a tangent and disappeared inside the house at lightening speed.

After hurriedly checking each other for signs of physical damage, and finding none, the mother and daughter attributed the squealing to it's rightful owner , one scared-out-of-his-non-existant-wits and completely inappropriately named half spitz half mongrel !

Sixteen years and a few (lost) dog fights later, Leo is still alive, and though not kicking,still barking at all dogs big and small through the gate,still dragging himself upstairs with his two working legs, in search of the chicken lunch that my mother sometimes takes to the bedroom in order to catch her favourite soap on television.

For now.

A letter to the Artimator

2010-05-15T00:35:00.000+05:30

Dear Artimator,

The other day, I was reading an old post on this blog (yes,there was a blue moon that night  ) about you , and I realised that today at TEN months old, you're almost all grown up! So  while you're napping as I try to rock you back to sleep/feed you/make my next word on scrabble/check on the maid/tickle you on demand/watch yet another episode of Frasier/answer the phone(thank you for your help drooly fingers),I would request you to take some time out from dealing with that newspaper and give some consideration to the following points.....

-Now that you're ~~drunkenly lurching 1,2,3...4 falling and getting up bum first to do it all over again~~ walking, noisily claiming food from everyone else's plate, how about laying off shoe laces and slippers , licking walls and anything new within reach?

-Mamma's world revolves around you, and if you take a nap longer than 10 mins on surfaces other than her , it will STILL revolve around you. And your seek-mamma-raise-alarm-if-not-in-reach-out-and-hang-on-to-range could do with a break too, specially at night.

- Swallowing two spoonfuls of water does NOT automatically convert spoon to toy. Not even if you distract the folks with giggles while you snatch it out of their hands .

- Waving bye ONLY to the one-who-drives-mamma-nuts-with-her-distaste-for-taking-directions and absolutely no one else is so NOT fair.

-Could you please oblige the duck with some offerings other than the liquid kind. Mamma would like to report to the grandfolks that the "Potty has actually depreciated in value..FINALLY" .

-Sometimes we actually ARE sneezing loudly, sometimes the bedcover DOES need to be dusted repeatedly with loud thwacks....what was all that giggling for ?Wait a minute , I think I see some dirt on the bed...

- If you could sleep through watching Baba and his friends taxi off in their aircraft, then pray tell why does the mixie upset you so?

- High chairs and prams are meant for sitting in ,and if you really want to explore those straps,there's no need to turn around and stand up. Your folks will gladly bring all the straps around to meet in that buckle that goes over your belly.

- See mamma's saying "NO" doesnt mean that you have to shake your head , smile and carry on eating that book or pulling that curtain or eating that shoelace. And she'll fall for that crying everytime, IF you could just keep a straight face or even produce a tear or not stop crying as soon as you get your way .Keeping your hand on your ear is a dead give away too.And no, the folks arn't laughing , they just need to look at something in the other direction.

-All dangling things and mamma's hair are not meant too be pulled and chewed.You can do that when we serve noodles, or if the hair is your own

-We are doing our best to learn the meaning of "Mamamamamama", "Aenanananannnnnn", "Aaaaeytaitaitai Aaaaeytaitaitai " etc...so how about meeting us mid way and learning the meaning of "Wait, Im coming shona".

- Keep trying, someday you might actually be able to grasp that water coming out of the garden pipe, or the bathroom tap. Or one of these days mamma might let you hold the mug while she gives you a bath.And while we are on the subject of baths, this is not the way to get maximum splashes

-Save the non stop rough housing, or "Jhinga Masti" (as your Baba so eloquently puts it )
for the grandparents .THEY have no need to take a break from you.

Actually if a certain person hadn't caught them just in time, you'd have mysteriously disappeared this Sunday.

-Baba's zillion wrist watches are fair game, mamma's one and only is not.

-See that kid in the mirror, yes the one you're grinning at ? He's mamma's sweetheart.

Monishikha Who?

2010-04-30T14:03:00.000+05:30

It had to happen sometime. I'm not unique anymore , or rather my name isn't. Gone are the days when I could confidently open an email account , by just typing in my first name!Before the slightly slow reader rolls those eyes ,let me remind you MRC is an acronym . It's true people know me by many names, and I have no problem with that , but the one name that I thought was unique is no longer so.

How do I know? Well folks, since Im posting SO regularly (all right all right, you can roll those eyes now), I decided to create a twitter account today. And guess what , there's a Monishikha on twitter, and it's NOT ME!

So, as soon as I can figure out what to do with that account on twitter,and if anyone's interested, they can look out for boring updates like this one from "MonishikhaRC" .

The Old Mess

2010-04-03T19:53:00.000+05:30

Once in a blue moon, when I go for a walk, this is my favourite spot to walk past.Also known as the "Old Mess", it is not quite that. It's the preferred venue for many a b'day party and station parties(kids allowed) with a movie, tombola, chaat and dinner served on the breezy ,sloping lawns . All in all, a pleasant place to spend an evening, and the second of my fledgling attempts at watercolour paintings. The husband and other critics (related by blood) claim that while I have a way to go before I can actually sell stuff (if I wanted to), it's worth hanging at home. As for me, Im just happy that the folks are visiting, so that I can do something totally unrelated to baby stuff. Speaking of which, the Artimator at 8 and a half months is STANDING ON HIS OWN for a grand total of half a second!

Random Number Seven

2010-03-31T13:00:00.002+05:30

A while ago, I got tagged by GM and Noor to do a post with seven random things about me.Sorry for being tardy folks, but real life intrudes at the most inconvenient times !Anyway in the spirit of "better late than never", here are seven random things about me-

1.I LOVE most sweets, candies, chocolates etc. but have never been able to even approach cotton candy without feeling nauseous.

2.I enjoy swimming, have taught myself how to do it,but circumstances have been such that I haven't been near a swimming pool in the last two years...sigh.

3.As a child, I used to think that old pictures were black and white because of a very simple reason, the WORLD was that way. Don't ask me when colour seeped in.

4.I am not religious, maybe because very early in life , I heard my father say that "If God is everywhere, then he/she/it doesn't need to be worshipped only in a particular place in a particular way". Yet , I have no objection to accompanying my mother to a puja pandal , she does the idol worship, I do the gastronomic worship.

5.My musical tastes are pretty narrow, mostly western pop from the fifties to the eighties, with a smattering of the new stuff from my teens onwards.

6.I love reading,can't stop till I finish the book BUT a week after I've finished it, if anyone asked me what I liked about the book, I wouldn't be able to recall anything other than the general story!

7.I know a little about a lot of stuff. I am dangerous.

Now the rules for passing on the tag are

1) You have to tag 7 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.

Well for me, except for point no.1 , all the rest are possible. I just dont know that many bloggers well enough to tag them(Let this be a warning to lurkers on this blog, delurk and you run the risk of being tagged sometime). So I am going to tag as many as I can, which is why Shail, Piper,Tara, Trish, and Newmum, you've been tagged ,or retagged as the case may be.

When a little boy is imprisoned

2010-03-17T19:42:00.001+05:30

by a laundry folding mother

he just has to explore his options.

Incidental Rhymes on Birthday Time

2010-03-15T22:19:00.005+05:30

On this blog

The regular reader may know

Rhymes are a no show

and tho she may grieve

on the eve

of birthday number thirty one,

Blaming , maybe her mum
and dad,
(she hastens to add)

this blogger went mad

racking her brain

(almost had a migraine)

came up with a rhyme horribly bad

still, before she went to bed

she took the the time

to re read this rhyme

and pressed publish instead

so go on

wish her a happy one

and after you do

read on,wont you

for the tale of a (p)sulker

who was once a lurker

till the one time

incidentally she did rhyme

little did she know

what led her to do it

you know,

show up her inner po it.

Now that it's done

She looks around to tag

who else,but new mum

Come on, show us

open up the bag,

and dig out a pome

dont be shy,

let fly

even your worst

wont be as bad

or sad

as this verse

Weekend Tales

2010-03-13T14:52:00.004+05:30

So people, have I mentioned that the husband had gone out on TD for a few days? Well, he came back, we spent a weekend in Hyderabad, where( for once ) I ~~decreed~~ declared that all this hibernating in teeny tiny small town thing was getting to be too much and that the weekend was to be spent in pursuit of better things, namely shopping and eating out. Despite the meaningful smiles that were exchanged between father and son at this decree , we managed to spend two and a half days doing exactly that. A high chair and some toys were bought(among other things), loads of overpriced and not so overpriced food was snarfed down by self and spouse with baby on sleep-on-mamma /chew on pram /play peek-a-boo with strangers mode.

So it was that last Sunday night, while getting out of the car on our way to renew our acquaintance with an old favorite haunt for Chinese, when some not-so-chinesey odors were smelt. After some consultation with the hostess at the restaurant, we were graciously given a private dining room to deal with the said odors and their source. That is when Murphy's law struck us , or rather the flimsy end of the last clean diaper tore as I was tugging on the sticky end of it. The husband who in his characteristically cool way had lightened the baby bag before leaving for the day's mall jaunt,overruling my horror stricken protests with "two is enough redundancy and we're going to a mall anyway" or words to that effect , just looked a little sheepish while I counted to ten and took deep breaths. Of course, he had no choice but to suggest that one end of the diaper and the elastic waist of the Artimator's shorts would literally keep things high and dry. Since I had no option but to believe him, a chinese meal ensued , with much adjusting of the one eared diaper .Apparently fate thought that we needed to see the writing on the wall, and since there were only fancy glass walls around, the message was conveyed to us via some fortune cookies at the end of the meal. Here's what was inside Artim's

"It is up to you to create your own adventures today"

(as in,your work is not done yet, go to sleep on mamma's lap and then keep her awake the rest of the night)

mom's

"You Are in For enlightening experience"

(as in,You DO know better when it comes to packing the baby's day bag and most of the time)

and dad's,

" A new sense of clarity is coming into your life" .

(as in , Don't mess with the ~~boss~~ wife, or if you do , make sure you're helping her clean up and looking suitably sheepish while doing so in order to escape the ~~looks that can kill~~ gentle remonstration coming your way when the s hits the f or the d )

And if you thought THAT was an exciting weekend, well , you're wrong folks. Read on to find out why.

Yesterday, mamma and baby dragged themselves out of bed and were ready at the crack of dawn (10:30 am) , because it was"take your wife and kid to work day"! Hold the yawns folks, and get out the oohs and aahs (or atleast pretend that you are ). See, the husband goes to work in a car, but at work, he changes his ride to this

to fly in

so that he can do this in the aircraft on top

and bring up the point of the delta

and sometimes he ~~goes a little crazy~~ flies inverted , like this.

This and the fact that he's really a cool guy on the ground too,

is why his wife is so very maha impressed by him . In case you think I am impressed only by fighter pilots in red overalls, let me leave you with this image of Artim with his return gift from a birthday party yesterday.

Well, the husband came home yesterday

2010-03-04T13:53:00.001+05:30

and has left again just now......at almost lightening speed. Guess, why I STILL didn't get any rest in the afternoon, even though Artim very graciously slept for two hours....

Before you let your imagination run away with you

here's why

An entirely pointless tale of woe

2010-03-01T14:23:00.005+05:30

Well, the husband is out on tour ,for this (among other things ) for a few days and this time the grandson magnet ~~hasn't been switched on~~ has met it's match in the grandparents own commitments. WHY do ~~grand~~parents have to have a life of their own!!

Anyway, so here I am , looking after baby all by myself for the last few days . Going to bed at night has become an exercise in obsessive door locking,~~barricading with chair,hiding something sharp in the bedroom~~ ,struggling with a tired but reluctant to sleep baby and self. Sure enough, things began unravelling the day after the husband left. The land line (and internet) went on a break(repaired after 48 hours and long distance telephonic intervention from the spouse, the baby had his first fall from the pram( and thankfully had nothing broken ), then the only tubelight in the computer room literally went on the blink!The icing on the cake was of course one night or rather at 4 am that morning, when I was lying in bed petrified because there was

....A DOOR BANGING intermittently when it had no business to be banging or creaking or making it's presence felt in any way whatsoever. After half an hour of peeking through the curtains of the bedroom window to check for wind blown trees (and finding none),and lying in bed trying to work out ways to inflict maximum damage on the cause of the banging door, I finally decided to swallow my pride, and called the neighbours.Sigh...after the cause of my downfall was identified as the unlatched outside door of a house in the next block, being banged by the breeze and offers to "come and sleep in our spare bedroom" were declined, I managed to get some shuteye. "Refreshed" by the four precious hours of rest and the lack of a wide awake baby, I had only one question ~~endlessly chasing it's tail~~ on my mind, namely

WHY do husbands have to go out on TD (that's temporary duty for the un-fauji-initiated crowd)? Do they not realise the horrors they inflict on their wives by doing so?That they leave us alone in these groundfloor houses, with umpteem , creaky doors opening to the surrounding grounds. Don't they realise that we can only enjoy the bright sunny lawn in the daytime?That we may not always prefer brushing our teeth/taking care of stuff while keeping an eagle eye and an iron grip on a wriggling baby who has to inspect objects on the floor while seated in an object raised a few feet above the floor with utter disregard for the gravity of the situation!

On top of all this, the poor suffering wife can't even ~~sing her tale of woe~~ gently remonstrate the husband with words like "I can't even leave your son alone for a second without finding him almost hanging upside down from the bed/pram and/or chewing the switchboard wire/remote/phone/MY BOOK" , without being subjected to totally beside the point rejoinders like "you're enjoying his smiles and all the new things he's learning while I'm out on work ~~doing what I really love and spending my spare time by the pool~~ , missing him like anything", or text messages like this in the middle of the day/night

"Aaayyyyyy voooeeessss meeeeee!!!"

hmpff! Artimonkitrix and I think this bong is crazy!

The Mother-In-Law

2010-02-24T10:18:00.005+05:30

I have been tagged by Shail, so here's my entry for Indusladies International Women's Day Blog Contest

Now that I've written about my kind of arranged marriage , it's only logical that a post about the "in-laws" will follow, specifically one about the "mother-in-law" . Well, as you know (and if you dont then read this), when I first met my husband the only prospective " in-laws " in ear shot were his.The parents from both sides only met once we had decided to get hitched.At that first meeting,no dowry was asked for, no horoscopes were matched,no engagement rings were exchanged and all that was decided was the probable month for the marriage.

In the months that followed, the husband-to-be and I went out on a few dates, and became friends. There was the occasional special couple moment, but by and large the husband-to-be exhibited a dry sense of humour and a somewhat taciturn manner. This did not quite fit in with my rose coloured view of what courtship should be like, and even though I was falling in love with my strong and silent type , I had serious doubts about his emotional involvement with me.The man had strange ideas about using a phone only if there was some factual information to be conveyed.He would rather discuss the rest when we met , which wasn't often enough from my point of view , given the fact that he lived barely 6 hours drive away, had a sister living in town and STILL would not come over every weekend, citing silly excuses like needing to catch up on sleep lost due to waking up before the crack of dawn in order to be on time and fit to fly a fighter aircraft sortie( or two ) at sunrise on weekdays. Matters were not helped by the fact that I was living in PG digs populated by women perpetually glued to their boyfriend/fiance/"rakhi bhai" 's physical or telephonic presence at all hours of the day.

So I began to express these doubts to my mother , who in turn expressed them in the politest possible way to his mother, who in her turn equally politely assured her that I had nothing to worry about because her son wasn't much of a talker and would "open up slowly as he gets to know her better". Well, thus reassured , I decided to go ahead and marry him, and take my chances on his "opening up to me" since I was(and still am) hopelessly besotted with him. As it happened, my mother-in-law was proved right , but that's another story that will not be told here.

A few days after we got married, on one of the obligatory visits to an old relative of the husband's side, the said old relative ~~threw a thinly veiled sneer~~ expressed great wonder at my husband's choice to marry me given the vast tonal contrast between his fair and my not so fair complexion. Since she gave expression to her genuine sense of wonder when she was sure only me and my mother-in-law were in ear shot, she was quite taken aback when my mother in law retorted with a look and "She has a very sunny smile and nature" . Of course , when my husband came to know about this, he made sure that we never "darkened" that old relative's house with our presence.

After our honeymoon, my mother-in-law presented me with an incomplete photo album, consisting of selected photographs of the husband from the time when he was a baby till just before we got married. There was a handwritten letter inside the album, addressed to me ending with these lines-

In some ways this is his past and present. I wish you both a meaningful and harmonious future-which you are going to build together. The rest of this album is for those happy moments of the future.- Love, Ma

In the six years that I have been married to her son, our relationship , has seen more than it's fair share of ups as compared to the downs, mainly because she is a fairly reasonable , very mature and honest person.Whenever we meet, we talk about art, life, relationships, her son and mine.We do have vast differences of opinion ,just like me and my mother. There have been times when there were some misunderstandings, but we've eventually sat down and talked it out and in many instances amicably agreed to disagree. She doesn't think of me as her daughter, and I don't think of her as my mother, but our relationship is one of mutual respect, friendship , affection and a common love for one man.

I tag GM, Newmum and Trish

Last Night,

2010-02-17T15:08:00.001+05:30

high on commentencouragement from this post, and one tall glass of cold coffee,the new mom was up till the wee hours , trying to get it right! She's not going to show you ALL her half filled pages, but she IS willing to take a chance on showing off

THIS

and THIS

and is thinking of keeping a pencil box on the bedside table.On second thoughts, she'd rather not pull half chewed wood out of Artim's mouth.

Fruits of a really late night

2010-02-16T13:40:00.001+05:30

Question: What do you get when there is

One wide awake ,new mom lying in bed at night having had
One strong cup of coffee the evening and also
One tall glass of cold coffee a little later in the evening, next to
One milk fed ,sleeping baby,lying on her left side with
One ball pen in her right hand and holding
One writing pad in the other hand, at an almost impossible angle,in a room lit by
One dim bedside lamp

Answer: This

and this

which are the new mom's first attempts at sketching her baby, and also her first attempts at sketching with a pen.

The new mom thought that they were not-so-bad, till daylight and a in-a-hurry-to-get-to-work-husband disagreed . Still ,for better or worse, the new mom wishes to show them to the world.

Some Memories of The Fourteenth Day of The Second Month of Years Past

2010-02-14T12:41:00.002+05:30

Well, it's the 14th of Feb, and whether you're the cheesy ,mushy romantic type or not, greeting card companies and the so called "protectors of Indian tradition" have made sure that it's not a ~~date~~ day to be ignored. So in the spirit of not ignoring the day, these are my memories of the fourteenth day of the second month of some of the past six years.

Our very first Valentine's day as a couple, was the last day of our honeymoon in Goa. My non-mushy-but-newly-married-giddily-in-lowe self had managed to secretly buy a funny card and hide it amongst the husband's clothes. Anyway, the card was found and duly appreciated with a hug and a "OH,ummmm Thanks" . In case anyone's wondering , I hadn't learnt the art of pointed sulking by then and he's more than made up for that bland answer these past six years, but that's another kind of post entirely .

Three years later,on the 14th of Feb, the husband was coming back home after work, with a friend,when the said friend stopped his car in front of a roadside flower seller. The husband, ever the silent observer, managed to put two and ten together, when in response to indignant comments about roses costing a bomb , the flower guy began his spiel about how Valentine's day was THE day when he and card companies actually earned the butter for their dry bread.So it was , that I opened the door to the man with a dozen red roses hidden behind his back. Of course his version of it would be something on the lines of how he had remembered all along and asked his friend to stop the car etc.etc.Anyway, regardless of the truth, I was ecstatic because he had got flowers for me,for the VERY FIRST TIME without being told to stop the car in front of the flower shop on the way back home from dinner.

Last February, I was at home, and the husband was away on tour. My parents had driven down nearly a thousand kilometres, just to keep me company, as they often do when I am alone.(Yes, I love them for treating me like a baby...sometimes ;) A day before the 14th of Feb,2009,it was unanimously agreed by the ladies of the house that my father wouldn't mind driving a 300 km round trip from home to Hyderabad and back. After some gentle persuasion and reminders about the electronic components for projects, to be bought from the computer market , my father agreed that he wouldn't mind either. So, on Valentine's day last year,while the (Indian)world and it's girlfriend were busy dodging/cocking a snoot at "the protectors of Indian tradition", the folks and I spent a long hectic day cursing traffic, shopping and eating out at my favourite restaurant. That night, around 11:40 pm, as I lay in bed,nursing a bad back and about to drift off to sleep, I was given a reason to remember it as the best Valentine's day ever. Thanks to the Artimator who chose to give me a taste of things to come, with his very first perceptible kick from inside my (pregnant) belly.

In which an idea is imprisoned

2010-02-10T21:48:00.002+05:30

In this day and age, what with the computer taking over all our correspondence, many of us, who are not in school or college anymore, have forgotten the pleasure of writing down our ideas,using a pen and a piece of paper.

I began writing this (heavily edited) post on a small writing pad, because I was lying next to my sleeping baby and I couldn't go and sit in front of the computer to indulge my latest addiction (blogging , what else !). Why? Because as I mentioned in my last post , at bedtime,my baby's seek-milk-source alarm is activated, and should said milk source not be found at all times within the first few eyes-closed-pats of areas-within-podgy-arms reach, the wail-for-mom siren is activated at full-wake-up-the-neighbours-and-birds level.

I see from what I've written that I've digressed, just a little bit, so let me get back to the square one, the pleasure of seeing one's ~~bird marks~~ beautiful handwriting on paper. So tell me, how many of you, the addicted-to-blogging blog hoppers , carry a pen and writing pad with you, on a bus, car, in bed , to the throne...you get my drift .

Well, until recently I didnt, because it never occured to me (yes, yes Im slow) and the only other blogger I've seen in action, namely my father ,just has to sit in front of the Computer, for poetry and prose to come traipsing down his brains, via his fingers and the keyboard to obligingly climb on to his blog. I know I am not in the same league as him, but I do like to express myself , and it would be nice if atleast the prose would be half as obliging!

At this point, if you're still reading, let me thank you for your patience, and reassure you that I'll get to the point soon enough. Don't hold your breath though, because I will not be responsible for the consequences.Okay? Still with me? You there, the follically challenged gentlemen,please stop pulling at the rest of your hair, and pointing at the SEX button...err the "X" button, will not solve your problem either.

SO , now that I have your attention, I was trying to tell you why I've finally seen the ~~tube~~light and begun to keep a writing pad and pen near my pillow at night, even though I know that if I am not quick enough when the morning comes, they WILL be checked for chewability by the Artimator.

Coming back to square two, as far as I can remember, in my distant school and college days, I have always found it easy to study at night and all my best art work(what little there is) has been accomplished at night. The select few brain cells that I have are at their peak after dinner(food for thought?), and these days once everyone is in bed, I lie awake thinking about my day, about all the things that were said, planning for tomorrow's dealing with the maid(yes, I do) and soon enough my mind wanders, leaving behind it some space for good ideas about things I could write about or how to paint or what to paint. I toss and turn ,and lie awake most of the night trying to commit them to memory, but by morning they suddenly vanish with the sunlight. So it was till yesterday, when it finally hit me that I was overlooking the obvious- To pen down thoughts and ideas, all that I need is (drumroll please) A PEN(or a pencil) AND PAPER

Wait! Wait! Im on a roll here, not finished yet...just two more minutes, I promise I wont meander.... much ....Really, I'll just be back as soon as I've calmed down the baby.

What? What's that? Okay ,go if you must, but before you do,would you please tell me what you think about this post, or do you need a pen and paper to do that?

For The Artimator

2010-02-09T09:13:00.004+05:30

Dear Artim,

The following are somethings we, your ~~not-so-~~humble,bumbling slaves wish you would consider-

Mamma's giving you what you like best, so please ,while she's giving it to you, would you please not look at the phone behind you...it hurts mamma more than you'll ever know! And that zonked out ,high on a belly full of milk look is for mamma only, baba can have the messy food smeared smiles when HE feeds you that-horrible-gloop-that-he-wouldnt-touch-with-a-barge-pole-otherwise.

Would you please not phroo your way out of it everytime you've ~~accidentally~~ dropped your toys for the zillionth time.Your mamma's is old you know, thirty years older than you and not as flexible as she ~~never~~ was.

Mamma has to sneak away sometimes at night, she doesn't wear diapers you know and it pains her heart and some other nameless body parts to hear you say mamamamamamamamaaaaaaa the moment she's out of smelling range. Baba sings equally tune~~less~~fully AND he's just as capable of thumping you back to sleep...let him do it please!

You do know that mamma's loves it when you blink your eyes at her, stick the tip of your tongue out of the side of your rosebud mouth and giggle .Sadly for you,she knows just what that look is leading too...and she's prepared to yank your hair right back.

That mad duck is not just for riding, it has other uses too.

Mamma's so glad that you love books and she's willing to give you solids soon, but in the meanwhile could you please refrain from eating her book ,one page at a time. Try that teether wedged below your pillow,it tastes better.

Would you please not gurgle in anticipation after one of us has ~~accidentally~~ tickled your stomach, it makes us do it again and again and again.....how are we ever going to change your diaper!And if you want us to do it all over again, could you please not direct the water stream on the bed, mamma would like to change the sheets everyday, but she can't.

Your baba loves it when you climb all over him , specially after he comes back from work, and wants to sleep. Keep doing it, mamma's behind you all the way.

Could you please distribute your baba's share of love bites away from his face the next time, mamma is tired of ....2mp983-0i['JKA 2Imojo,mjnjbgvYUIOOO NJK

STOP that and let mamma fin..noiuyait8gicjppRYTIHIJNnuip

Two bottles of beer on the wall

2010-02-07T13:26:00.003+05:30

It's Sunday after all...

Okay, so the beer is long gone ;)

Like what you see, come take a closer look.