13 Hours of Rain

Princess A. Dear Daughter, About two weeks ago, we had planned a little supper celebration at the big yellow M in honor of your brother's potty training accomplishments. I picked up your Dad from school and he asked you: D: "After Mommy's appointment, we will go somewhere for a big surprise. Guess what is it!" A: "A lollipop?" D: "No. It's bigger than that." A: "A very big lollipop?" Your Daddy and I burst out laughing! Lollipops and gum. Pink and purple. Pretty dresses and sparkly shoes. Lip gloss and nail polish. Unicorns and princesses. Jewelry and purses. There is no doubt about it. You are a little girl now. Yesterday, I was cuddling with you. I could barely hold you in my arms. Your sweet frame sprawled beyond my reach. I reminded you in that moment how little you were when I first met you face to face. So little in comparison to now. A precious baby with blue-gray eyes, bundled in pink fleece. Now, you sp...

Dear Lord, Sunday Thank you for quiet nursery duty. I was able to spend quality time with one child: my son. Halfway through, my husband came to keep me company when our daughter went downstairs for Children's Church. It was kind of nice to discuss the sermon while hearing it through the overhead speakers. Monday Thank you for the opportunity to interview newcomers and write their stories for a local magazine. I find writing energizing and therapeutic. And thank you for a welcomed phone call from a good friend. Tuesday Thank you that my children enjoy playing with other kids. Thank you for spontaneous lunch dates with friends over homemade cream of broccoli mozzarella soup. Thank you for surviving a whole day without my husband while he worked 8 a.m. - 10 p.m. at school & science fair. Wednesday Thank you for the reminder that I am not a perfect mom and that often after a "Mother-of-the-year" day, I face many hours filled with impatience (and yelling) on m...

A Twinge... There are days I feel a twinge of envy. A tiny feeling of regret trickles up from the depths of my being and forms a lump in my throat. No more newborns of mine will be cradled in these arms again. A few moms in my circle of acquaintances are beaming as they carry life within. It is beautiful to watch their anticipation and excitement. A new name. A new personality. A new collection of soft sleepers to embrace the distinct fragrance of infant skin. It is magical. My son is potty trained. I braced myself for the stereotypical battle with the male gender. I was delightfully surprised. In three days, he abandoned his diapers in favor of boy underwear. He was more than ready. I washed my cloth diapers for the last time and stored them for a potential buyer. It's hard to believe. This stage is over. Except for the "do-do" at night time, my son is a "big little boy" now. On the whole, I feel good. Those intense days as a nursing mother are behind...

Dear Reader, Yesterday, the topic for consideration in my Mom's group was Life Insurance and Wills. Our morning started with a Mom sharing her brush with death a few years ago. She had an unforeseen brain hemorrhage. Her outlook on life dramatically changed, for the better. She miraculously recovered from the ordeal. Since then, she has embraced living with grace and thankfulness. Life is a gift to her. Her story was amazing. Following the presentation, two professionals, an Insurance Broker and a Lawyer, offered information sessions on being proactive in providing for your children in the event of a death. Their talks got me thinking. I tend to be a planned sort of person. As parents, our lives are insured to provide something for those we leave behind. Our mortgage has insurance so that our estate would not have to cover that expense. We have a Will that appoints executors, guardians, trusts, etc. Seems good, right? But here is the problem. How much insurance is enough? $...

Dear Children, Yesterday, I attended an International Women's event in our city. The Mistress of Ceremonies kindly placed me at a reserved table with several prominent East-Indian women who were either doctors or married to doctors. Here I found myself surrounded by a Gynaecologist, a Pediatrician and a Psychiatric. I, the teacher turned housewife, the woman married to a teacher, the daughter of teachers, felt a little bit out of place. (Teachers are not considered elite in East-Indian society. Doctors, on the other hand, are highly valued.) But I chose to embrace the moment and sit tall. I utilized my sub-standard Hindi/Urdu the best I could (and I was told my words had an accent - oh well). I laughed at the jokes offered, especially since the phrases were so typically Indian. I expressed my joy when I discovered one of the women was from the same city as your Nani. And I was warmed with the general affirmation I received. After all, I have East-Indian ethnicity. In a m...

If you have been following my blog over the past 2.5 years, since I moved into this city, you would know that my kitchen/dining room appearance was definitely on my cons list when my husband and I purchased this house. Deep purple walls coupled with worn, outdated reddish-brown mahogany cabinets screamed, "Ug-ly!" As soon as we settled in, I called in two contractors to present me quotes to completely rip out my old cabinetry and build me something brand spankin' new. Then came the price of such a reno. For about a year and a half I waffled back in forth on the issue. Complete overhaul? Or renovate what we have? Back and forth I went, like a crazy preschooler on a teeter-totter. My poor husband couldn't keep track of what side I was on from day to day! Eventually, I faced my reality. We only have one income. We don't like debt. I don't want to save for ten plus years for a complete re-do. We love our house and we don't want to move just to possess ...