Hey my darling baby. I haven't seen you, but I feel you inside my swollen tummy. I haven't heard you, but I sense your soft breathing.
You are growing within me; going through all my emotions since the past 7.5 months.
You are getting your nutrition from what I eat.
At times, I wonder if I am giving you the right food, in the right quantity, at the right time.
I hope I am doing everything right.
I can’t wait to see you in flesh and blood, to hear your ba-ba-ba-ba. Oh, what fun it will be to wake up in the dawn to see your smiling face, listening to your cries of hunger or discomfort, feeding you, bathing you. I am looking forward to playing with you with all those gorgeous toys offered in the market.
At times I feel so inadequate and unsure about whether I will be able to take care of you. How will I know that you are not feeling well? How will I know that all you need is a kiss and squeeze from me? How will I know that you are hungry? How will I know that you do not like the new baby soap that I got for you?
Somewhere from within me comes the answer, "You will know with time. You will be a wonderful mother." I break into a wide grin thinking, "Yes, I can do it." Of course, I am not born with all the knowledge in the world. I am going to fall, and learn with my mistakes. Celebrating my mistakes will make me a strong person.
The big lesson that you have taught me is to appreciate every moment in life, worrying about the endless things in life is so stupid.
As you begin to grow, you will soon realize that we live in an image bound society. “So what do you do?” is the most famous question asked as soon as you meet anyone.
What will your mom say? “I am a stay-at-home-mom” or “I work in so-and-so company as so-and-so.”
In today’s times, it’s a no-win situation. Either way, I have to defend my choices. If I choose to be a career mom, I will be seen as a career obsessed parent who has neglected her only child for money, and if I opt to be a stay-at-home mom, I will be looked down upon by others as someone who is incapable of taking care of both, home and work.
So is it possible to have a satisfying career and personal life? The answer is a resounding yes. I may need to revisit my expectations from my self. Is it essential to have a picture perfect home? Is it crucial to bake a cake from the scratch?
I refuse to join in this mummy war, and choose to be responsible for my choices. A choice that I am going to make based on my family wellness, needs and desires. Whatever is my choice, my love and attention is what you will get in plentiful. A loving home filled with joy, laughter and warmth is what you will get.
Friday, June 08, 2007
Monday, May 28, 2007
1408, 80 forest manor
If 1408, 80 Forest Manor could speak, what would it say?
Every house has a story to tell.
Here is ours:
It is Friday evening, October 14, 2005. I enter 1408 with a bagful full of desires, joy and anticipation. The silent lobby greets me with a spick and span look reminding me of a decent hotel in India.
As the elevator takes Sonu and me to the 14 floor, my dreams grow in seconds. I enter our first home with my right foot forward holding Sonu’s hand. Tearing away from his smiling face, I cast a glance at our home.
I gawk at the empty home. The carefully arranged carton boxes in the living plus dining room gawk back.
In its regal magnificence stand a light grey plastic oval table and four chairs used by Sonu and his bachelor friends, formerly meant to place in patio, but chosen to be our dining table. In one corner of the living room, stand two racks full of my priceless books collection. In another corner is a computer table with printer.
The earlier tenants of our apartment generously left shower curtains and white curtains for the living room and bedroom.
The bedroom has a mattress, and a wooden dressing table (with car stickers on it) and a full mirror. An iron box and table stand at the opposite end. Next to it is an enormous wooden filing cabinet with several more, now familiar cartons lined up for me.
Ah, the kitchen that I know nothing about. A Microwave, some cutlery and pots are seen.
The apartment overlooks the entrance of the building that is nestled amongst Fairview mall, library, IGA grocery store and a park.
Slowly, we began building our loving nest. The top shelf in the kitchen turns into a temple. Akin to the Tirupati Balaji mandir, I mount the step stool to worship god.
The dining table is covered with a lace curtain, folding its jagged edges from sides. Ooh la-la! It turns into a table cloth.
The cartons are opened, and things are put in its place; medicines, jackets, clothes and shoes.
A wooden shoe rack from Ikea, dryer, computer table, TV, cutlery, blender, processor, pots and pans from various stores soon find its place in our home. Each item is seen with four critical eyes, checked for affordability, appearance and adoringly placed in our nest.
We choose our bed frame from Ikea; a light wooden frame that stole our hearts instantly. Little did we know what was coming ahead.
We write down the code numbers for all the pieces of the frame, and went about picking them and putting it in the car.
Excitedly, we rush home to put the frame and its pieces together. Suddenly, we feel that this wood feels different. A transparent shiny feel to it strikes us that this is particle wood, and not real wood.
We decide to return it. It was a pain to lift the heavy stuff and put it back in the car. But we had to do it! This time we go for a wrought iron frame. We heave a sigh of relief when everything is done.
Frequent mall trips leave us with a feeling of buying more. We look at the lovingly adorned pieces and understand that we cannot afford nor do we have the space for it. We return with the thought that one day when we buy our home, we will adorn it with the world’s best possessions. “One day” appears so distant now.
I love going to the mall and the library. It has become my second home. I can spend the entire day browsing through stores and books. I often sit in the food court or coffee shop not doing anything nor thinking anything. Friends are puzzled when I don’t complain about the loneliness, the weather, etc. I am happy with my new life. The hush is welcoming; allowing me to be in tune with myself.
Joining George Brown college to complete my certification in Technical Communications has added another dimension to my new life. Meeting new people and starting my life from the scratch is fun.
Our first furniture arrives in last week of October – a sturdy wooden futon with a magazine stand on its sides. Both the arm rest opens to place remotes for CD, TV and VHS.
This soon becomes our preferred place to sit in the evenings. After Sonu comes back from work, we blissfully sit on our futon for hours discussing diverse topics. My much loved is when he gets freshly baked butter croissants from the nearby IGA grocery store that we heat and enjoy with tea followed by cooking together.
Sonu began teaching me basic cooking; elucidating the role of Indian spices. In spite of my lack of culinary knowledge, I took pleasure in cooking experimental dishes.
Friday nights is exclusively ours; pasta or pizza night with wine and movie followed by sleeping on the futon-converted-bed.
Our weekends goes in meeting friends who excitedly call us for lunch /dinner and lavish us with gifts.
It is mid January now, time for us to call our friends home for dinner.
The search for completing the home décor begins with earnest. On Boxing Day sale (just before Christmas), we choose a rust brown love seat and a 3 seat sofa from Brick; next comes a wooden centre table and two side tables. Now our living room looks complete.
A number of kitchen items are bought; chip and dip, wine glasses, beer glasses, and other kitchen accessories.
On the last weekend of January, I give a surprise birthday party for Sonu. His friends take him out of the house to buy ice, and when they enter again, he is stunned to see the decorated house, cake and everyone whistling and clapping.
Now every weekend is spent in going for parties or inviting everyone home. The whole day goes in cooking and tidying the house on the day of the party. Dance, eats and leg-pulling till wee hours in the morning make the parties, fun filled evenings.
Six months fly in decorating, laughing and celebrating joyous moments of life. A blurred Diwali, exciting Valentine's day, and a fun new year at Halliburton; brawls to hugs, kisses and love; time has come to move on to a 2-bedroom apartment.
Every house has a story to tell.
Here is ours:
It is Friday evening, October 14, 2005. I enter 1408 with a bagful full of desires, joy and anticipation. The silent lobby greets me with a spick and span look reminding me of a decent hotel in India.
As the elevator takes Sonu and me to the 14 floor, my dreams grow in seconds. I enter our first home with my right foot forward holding Sonu’s hand. Tearing away from his smiling face, I cast a glance at our home.
I gawk at the empty home. The carefully arranged carton boxes in the living plus dining room gawk back.
In its regal magnificence stand a light grey plastic oval table and four chairs used by Sonu and his bachelor friends, formerly meant to place in patio, but chosen to be our dining table. In one corner of the living room, stand two racks full of my priceless books collection. In another corner is a computer table with printer.
The earlier tenants of our apartment generously left shower curtains and white curtains for the living room and bedroom.
The bedroom has a mattress, and a wooden dressing table (with car stickers on it) and a full mirror. An iron box and table stand at the opposite end. Next to it is an enormous wooden filing cabinet with several more, now familiar cartons lined up for me.
Ah, the kitchen that I know nothing about. A Microwave, some cutlery and pots are seen.
The apartment overlooks the entrance of the building that is nestled amongst Fairview mall, library, IGA grocery store and a park.
Slowly, we began building our loving nest. The top shelf in the kitchen turns into a temple. Akin to the Tirupati Balaji mandir, I mount the step stool to worship god.
The dining table is covered with a lace curtain, folding its jagged edges from sides. Ooh la-la! It turns into a table cloth.
The cartons are opened, and things are put in its place; medicines, jackets, clothes and shoes.
A wooden shoe rack from Ikea, dryer, computer table, TV, cutlery, blender, processor, pots and pans from various stores soon find its place in our home. Each item is seen with four critical eyes, checked for affordability, appearance and adoringly placed in our nest.
We choose our bed frame from Ikea; a light wooden frame that stole our hearts instantly. Little did we know what was coming ahead.
We write down the code numbers for all the pieces of the frame, and went about picking them and putting it in the car.
Excitedly, we rush home to put the frame and its pieces together. Suddenly, we feel that this wood feels different. A transparent shiny feel to it strikes us that this is particle wood, and not real wood.
We decide to return it. It was a pain to lift the heavy stuff and put it back in the car. But we had to do it! This time we go for a wrought iron frame. We heave a sigh of relief when everything is done.
Frequent mall trips leave us with a feeling of buying more. We look at the lovingly adorned pieces and understand that we cannot afford nor do we have the space for it. We return with the thought that one day when we buy our home, we will adorn it with the world’s best possessions. “One day” appears so distant now.
I love going to the mall and the library. It has become my second home. I can spend the entire day browsing through stores and books. I often sit in the food court or coffee shop not doing anything nor thinking anything. Friends are puzzled when I don’t complain about the loneliness, the weather, etc. I am happy with my new life. The hush is welcoming; allowing me to be in tune with myself.
Joining George Brown college to complete my certification in Technical Communications has added another dimension to my new life. Meeting new people and starting my life from the scratch is fun.
Our first furniture arrives in last week of October – a sturdy wooden futon with a magazine stand on its sides. Both the arm rest opens to place remotes for CD, TV and VHS.
This soon becomes our preferred place to sit in the evenings. After Sonu comes back from work, we blissfully sit on our futon for hours discussing diverse topics. My much loved is when he gets freshly baked butter croissants from the nearby IGA grocery store that we heat and enjoy with tea followed by cooking together.
Sonu began teaching me basic cooking; elucidating the role of Indian spices. In spite of my lack of culinary knowledge, I took pleasure in cooking experimental dishes.
Friday nights is exclusively ours; pasta or pizza night with wine and movie followed by sleeping on the futon-converted-bed.
Our weekends goes in meeting friends who excitedly call us for lunch /dinner and lavish us with gifts.
It is mid January now, time for us to call our friends home for dinner.
The search for completing the home décor begins with earnest. On Boxing Day sale (just before Christmas), we choose a rust brown love seat and a 3 seat sofa from Brick; next comes a wooden centre table and two side tables. Now our living room looks complete.
A number of kitchen items are bought; chip and dip, wine glasses, beer glasses, and other kitchen accessories.
On the last weekend of January, I give a surprise birthday party for Sonu. His friends take him out of the house to buy ice, and when they enter again, he is stunned to see the decorated house, cake and everyone whistling and clapping.
Now every weekend is spent in going for parties or inviting everyone home. The whole day goes in cooking and tidying the house on the day of the party. Dance, eats and leg-pulling till wee hours in the morning make the parties, fun filled evenings.
Six months fly in decorating, laughing and celebrating joyous moments of life. A blurred Diwali, exciting Valentine's day, and a fun new year at Halliburton; brawls to hugs, kisses and love; time has come to move on to a 2-bedroom apartment.
Monday, March 05, 2007
My bundle of joy
It is January the 24th (2007) today. A bright and lovely day outside. The sun has also come out to rejoice with us on our special day. Sonu and I are going to be parents of a beautiful child. He (I know 'it' is a 'he') is 12-14 weeks old only. My sweet and small baby.
At 8:30 a.m. I walk in the clinic for my first ultrasound with fear and anxiety of the unknown. I was told to have a full bladder. I must drink lots of water one hour prior to the procedure. This will help to move the intestines out of the way and aid in distinguishing various fetal parts. As the technologist takes my health card and asks me to wait, I can only think of going to the washroom to relieve myself. It is too much of a pain to sit still!Few minutes more of waiting, and I am ushered in by a sweet bespectacled lady. I am asked to remove my clothes and instead wear a blue gown, and then join her in room no. 3.
As I enter in after wearing the blue gown, I lie down on my back. She proceeds with the transabdominal ultrasound process of putting a lubricating gel on my growing tummy, and placing a probe over the gel and moving all around on the abdomen. Sound waves pass through my abdomen to the fetus and bounce back to create the fetal image on an electronic monitor.I look at her with growing anxiety, fear knotting my stomach.
Am I pregnant? Is something wrong with the baby? How old is the baby? When am I due? Can I see him? All kinds of questions creep in my mind like snakes in the plane. I finally blurt out, "Am I pregnant"? She gives me an amused look, and asks if I did my pregnancy test. I hesitantly told her I did but I was still confused.
She further probes me if this was my first pregnancy, and if I was new to Canada. I wonder what it has got to do with my pregnancy. Finally she laughs and answered my question: Yes, you are pregnant. I probe her further: how old is the baby? She hesitantly answers, approximately 14 weeks. Wow! I cant believe it. I have to see the baby myself.
After doing few more measurements, she calls in Sonu. Moving the monitor towards us, we watch with anticipation and joy. I see my baby on the screen, yes, with my own eyes! The tiny hands that are going to hold my hands, his newly formed face, eyes, body, limbs, abdomen, shoulder, spinal chord, and his beautiful throbbing heart. Yes, I hear his heart beat too. It is like the sound of a water stream rushing in. I feel tears in my eyes. Is it out of happiness? Disbelief? I have no idea. In a blur, I enter the washroom, change my clothes, and come out with my baby's picture in hand.
Sonu and I come out of the lab smiling. It is true! We are the proud parents of a woderful son. I am determined to give the best to my baby.
At 8:30 a.m. I walk in the clinic for my first ultrasound with fear and anxiety of the unknown. I was told to have a full bladder. I must drink lots of water one hour prior to the procedure. This will help to move the intestines out of the way and aid in distinguishing various fetal parts. As the technologist takes my health card and asks me to wait, I can only think of going to the washroom to relieve myself. It is too much of a pain to sit still!Few minutes more of waiting, and I am ushered in by a sweet bespectacled lady. I am asked to remove my clothes and instead wear a blue gown, and then join her in room no. 3.
As I enter in after wearing the blue gown, I lie down on my back. She proceeds with the transabdominal ultrasound process of putting a lubricating gel on my growing tummy, and placing a probe over the gel and moving all around on the abdomen. Sound waves pass through my abdomen to the fetus and bounce back to create the fetal image on an electronic monitor.I look at her with growing anxiety, fear knotting my stomach.
Am I pregnant? Is something wrong with the baby? How old is the baby? When am I due? Can I see him? All kinds of questions creep in my mind like snakes in the plane. I finally blurt out, "Am I pregnant"? She gives me an amused look, and asks if I did my pregnancy test. I hesitantly told her I did but I was still confused.
She further probes me if this was my first pregnancy, and if I was new to Canada. I wonder what it has got to do with my pregnancy. Finally she laughs and answered my question: Yes, you are pregnant. I probe her further: how old is the baby? She hesitantly answers, approximately 14 weeks. Wow! I cant believe it. I have to see the baby myself.
After doing few more measurements, she calls in Sonu. Moving the monitor towards us, we watch with anticipation and joy. I see my baby on the screen, yes, with my own eyes! The tiny hands that are going to hold my hands, his newly formed face, eyes, body, limbs, abdomen, shoulder, spinal chord, and his beautiful throbbing heart. Yes, I hear his heart beat too. It is like the sound of a water stream rushing in. I feel tears in my eyes. Is it out of happiness? Disbelief? I have no idea. In a blur, I enter the washroom, change my clothes, and come out with my baby's picture in hand.
Sonu and I come out of the lab smiling. It is true! We are the proud parents of a woderful son. I am determined to give the best to my baby.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Published: Framing love
My idea was published in an online magazine, http://www.lovingyou.com/
You can read it at http://www.aartisantosh.blogspot.com/2007/11/love-framed-forever.html
You can read it at http://www.aartisantosh.blogspot.com/2007/11/love-framed-forever.html
I dream
I dream
Inspite of all the difficulties and pain
I still dream
I dream of a home near the waves
My husband holding me close
Talking all night
In the soft moonlight
Filling my soul
With moments to cherish and hold
I dream of a crafts studio
Built in wood
My passion on display
With love measured in full
I dream
Inspite of all the difficulties and pain
I still dream
I dream of living as a writer
my thoughts reaching far and wide
Across million hearts
My heart singing with joy
I dream of being a dancer
To light up a stage setting myself free
spinning among the stars
soaring in the sky
I dream
Inspite of all the difficulties and pain
I still dream
A wife's life
Here's a funny poem on a wife's life. All wives will swear by it, and all husbands (including mine) will not find it funny at all!
A wife's life
Is my breakfast ready?
Where is my towel?
Did you iron my clothes?
I have a meeting tonight
I will be late today
Stop yelling at me
I don’t like that
Ugh! What have you made?
I am talking to you
I have a headache
Are you listening?
Er! Yes, I am
What did you say?
I want to go home
I need money for shopping
I am busy now
Stop it!
I said stop it
I am not a doormat
I need a hug
Goodnight
Want you kiss me?
ZZzzzzzz
That’s life of a wife!
Published: Technical Writing: Everyday Learning
Yahoo!!!! My first article in Toronto. Here's the link: http://www.aartisantosh.blogspot.com/2007/11/published-society-for-technical.html
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