Creating Memories... One Day At A Time

        There wasn't anything remarkable about the first 25 years of my life... and then we met! Everything was super fast and great fun after that. In quick succession we married, moved to a new country, had our first child, changed job, went on our first vacation to Europe and are now counting the time to hold our second child in our arms.

        Even before I had come to terms that we were going to have Liana, she was with us.  And soon she was smiling at faces, then the goo-goo, gaa-gaa phase, followed by the wild excitement on seeing her father or me. And oops, suddenly she'd learnt to roll over, and I pick her up crying after falling onto the floor. I should have known. Bad me!

        And then she stood up for the first time, and her tiny head was just a little above my knee and I am not sure if Armstrong and Hillary felt half as proud as we - father, mother and child did at that time. Then came the walking and many falling and looking up at us expecting us to lift her up and make a fuss. We didn't. It was one of those things we decided we wouldn't do, in order to help her learn to help herself (unless it was a serious fall, of course!). Soon she was running, growing more independent day by day - putting on her shoes, choosing her clothes and accessories (although it meant turning a blind eye to her wearing that one favorite pair of shoes everywhere) washing her own hands, eating on her own, and the day came when she wanted to lock the toilet door after her and pee on her own. And she was yet to turn 2. I knew then that, that simple act of closing the door to me opened up a new chapter in our lives.

        She can be frightfully independent. She was 11 months old, and we were home on vacation. Andrew was returning to Dubai, and as he left home for the airport, I was admitted in the hospital, staying there for 2 days and nights. We had been home only for a couple of days, and I knew she'd need me. But no. Miss Obstinate was quite comfortable with her grandparents, and didn't ask for me, or cry, leading everyone, including me to wonder what kind of a mother I had been. I even started wondering if this was normal in a child, and two days later I could no longer stay away, and I went home, not really knowing what to expect. What if she had forgotten me? And I would die if she refused to come to me. Something must have been seriously wrong in my parenting. But when she heard my voice, she beamed, lunged over to me, put her arms around my neck, and stayed that way for a long, long time, and we kissed, and laughed and hugged and I realized I should be thanking God for her being a good child and adjusting in my absence. After that, it took her almost 4 days before she could let me go out of her sight. She was, probably for the first time in her life, clingy and crying, but for that once, I was grateful.

        I have been so proud and content to be a stay at home mom. Unlike most women I cherish being able to spend all my time with Liana. My time is mine and I choose to spend it with my child who rapidly outgrows my lap. I have the time to answer every question of hers, to listen to her imagination run wild, hold her hands exploring home and the world, play peek-a-boo, watch over her as she took a tub bath with her toys for an hour. I would hear Liana sing, "Pinkle, pinkle, little star (Twinkle, Twinkle) and a sudden impulse would seize me, and I'll drop everything and go to her, and her face would beam with the broadest of smiles, and we'll start singing, and dancing, and playing, all world forgotten. Liana and I spend so much time on the floor, playing with her blocks, drinking her tea, reading stories to her and time flies. With junior on the way, and with school years creeping fast, I know our precious time together is running out. And I try my best each day to make the most of it.

        This was before she started playschool in October. That night before I lay awake watching her sleep, hugging her, caressing her hair, knowing for a few hours from the next day she wouldn't come to me for just a "ug"(hug), or "kish" (Mommy's kisses have magical powers, hurt little finger, and a kish, er... kiss is all it takes to make the pain go away). She had always been at my arms reach, always within earshot when she talked to her dolls, and read stories aloud (with her books held upside down) that the house was suddenly frightfully silent. I had time to stretch my legs and read, watch a movie, go shopping, all the things I had missed so badly, but instead, Ironically, here I was occasionally stealing into the bedroom and touching and smelling her clothes, and watching the minutes tick slowly on the clock.

        Back home from playschool the first day, she was in tears, wanting to go back to school, and it happened the following days as well. As I got to know that my daughter was enjoying herself away from home, I started picking up my own life... my hobbies... and after more than 2 years I finally got to spend my time as an adult - shopping and watching full length movies instead of jingles. I am able to sit back, and learn to trust her with others. I also know, this freedom is only for three more months, and again we start with our blessed new baby.  Who knows what lays in store for us. There was a time when I wondered how it would be to lead life with a baby to take care of, but now I can't imagine life without her. Of course we have our share of struggles, she wouldn't be a toddler and I her mother if we didn't. But unlike the last time, I am so very excited, because I am better prepared, and I know how wonderful it is going to be.

                         Thank God!

How I got my DDL and other experiences

It was his idea. Out of nowhere Andrew said, "You should get a driver's license". Everyone knows how ridiculously tough it is to get a driver's license in Dubai, and I wondered if it was worth the bother, especially being a SAHM. But then pictures started floating in my head - of me whirring around Dubai in my car, me wearing coolers with my hair flowing behind me in the wind. It's never the right weather to lower the windows and let the hair fly here in Dubai, but it didn't strike me then. So mama packed her bags and came to be with us for 2 months.

Everything went super fast after that. Lecture classes and practical classes, tests. It was fun. I was a good student, and I learnt fast. My instructor had nothing but praise for my driving. The day of the test dawned, and hearing drum rolls in my brain, I went in humming a tune. I had made it a big occasion, shopping for new clothes, and looking my best, for the license photo :D. The examiner and two other women were in the car with me. We had to take turns to drive from the institute to the way back during which time we'd each be tested on various parameters. I was the first to go, as I had secretly hoped. Everything went smooth, but for instances when the examiner held the steering once, and the brake once - both which I believed was uncalled for. Both the others ladies did major blunders - One in her 3rd attempt, the other in her 4th. It's not uncommon for people to go on for 8 or more attempts. And the only question anyone asks is in which attempt they had managed to get their license. No one is judged for their many attempts. It is an accepted and integral part of life in Dubai. When we got down, the examiner told the other two that they had failed. I waited in the reception to be called, thinking how easy it had been, and wondering why everyone had said it was tough. I was called and handed over a sheet with "FAIL".

"Seriously?", I said.

"Yes" said the receptionist, looking cautious. I walked out staring at the sheet which had stated various errors on my part.

With renewed energy and vigor I went for eight more classes and arranged for the second attempt the following week. I hoped and prayed that I would get the other examiner, the one they said was nice and helpful. I decided to maintain a low profile for my own good. I got two of my wishes this time - I was the first one to drive, and I got the other examiner. Only, this examiner scared the life out of me. Before 2 minutes into the test, she was warning me loudly that if I didn't drive properly she'd end the test. Yeah, like that would help. In another 2 minutes I had parked the car right in the middle of two parking lots and totally confused as to how to make it right. If she had kept quiet for a second, I could have thought through, but no. So totally ashamed of myself I got into the backseat, knowing the result well ahead this time. And what was worse, I was getting scared of driving now. Gone was the desire to get a license. With all the money pumped in, I was trapped. I called Andrew and he said enough was enough. A lot of money had been spent. We could try again later once I realized the seriousness of the whole thing. But of course he called back the next minute and said I could try as many times as I wanted to. ;) But I was crestfallen. I felt like a total failure. But I couldn't give up now, I had come so far. And I am not a quitter. So I booked the test for the next test day.

It was clear everyone had given up hope by then. Both my mom and Andrew told me not to worry, there was always a next time, my instructor let me off at the test site without so much as a "all the best." I had made all possible mistakes on that day's training with him. Things I hadn't even known one could err at. And a very scared me walked in, and when I passed the examiner I forgot all that I remembered. I went straight to the ladies room and stood there before the mirror, praying in my heart for a very long time. "Lord, I can't do this anymore, I can't do this on my own. Help me out." I kept repeating. And then it happened. Peace descended on me and I was not afraid anymore. "God, I have nothing to fear, cause you are with me." It wasn't me and the examiner anymore. God was with me. I still had an hour before the test, and I went out. They asked if I could go immediately, someone hadn't turned up. It was examiner from round 2, but I am not afraid, remember? I was the first to go again. I drove well, and I could see the examiner was pleased. She was even smiling, so maybe she wasn't bad after all. I was asked to park the car, I did, perfectly. She smiled, and said, "Thank you. Next." I was so happy, I changed the gear to parking, but forgot the handbrake. There was a little jolt when I took my foot off the foot brake, but I immediately set it right. I hated myself for that slip. I could be failed for that.

There was one other girl in the car with me. She happened to be the daughter of a staff at the institute and knows everyone there, confidently, speaking to the examiner in Arabic. I've heard that only about 1(or no one) in 3 pass. If it was true, I had a tough chance, but then I prayed. Nearing the institute I started panicking again, and I prayed, "God if I get my license, I'll thank you on my knees over there"

I waited in the reception to be called. They handed me a sheet.

"Congrats!"

"Seriously?"

"Yes" said the same receptionist, laughing.

The other girl had failed. I went to my seat and kept my promise to God. The first two times, I had prayed, but it was always "Me". Only on the third attempt did I submit it all to God, acknowledging his supremacy and my weakness. This time I had hoped that I wouldn't be asked to go first, and that I won't get examiner number 2.  But God had willed me to succeed with both these, so that no one could say it was coincidence that I got it. Or luck.

Called Andrew and told I had failed, he said, "It's okay. When is the next test" And it was time to celebrate.

At this time, I wish to add two other instances where I have experienced God's miracles.

When I was 17, I started getting severe head aches, and testing my eyes, found that I needed a correction in one eye +1.5. I wore specs at home, and lens outside. It became a part of life, checking my eye every year at different places, the power was constant, changing just once in 8 years.  A few days before my wedding I attended a convention of Mohan C. Lazarus and he asked everyone to pray for healing touching the place that needed to be healed. I was watching for sometime thinking I had nothing that needed healing, and I was perfectly well, when I remembered my eye. I kept my hand on my eye, and prayed. On going home I immediately checked if the vision was corrected, it wasn't. I thought it might take time, and then with the wedding forgot about it. A few weeks after our wedding, I had moved to Dubai, and I started getting the intense headaches again. We went to see an ophthalmologist, and after checking my eyes, he asked me why I wear glasses. He said it was +.25, which didn't need glasses at all. He said the headaches were because of that. He said I had been wearing the wrong glasses for years now. But we know the truth, right? :)

I was 20, and it was the day of our Viva. All of us had spent about 6 weeks gathering hands on experience and honing our management skills in various companies. I don't know about the others, but I had had a great time, making friends, enjoying the sights and scenes of Chennai. I had learnt much of course but none of these were in a systematic way which could be submitted as a big report with charts, strategy, numbers and formulae.  The day found me leaning on the wall watching activity unfold. Everyone was discussing big things which didn't make sense. And to make matters worse they started calling us from the end of the attendance list, meaning I was to go in as the 5th person. I would have been the 55th by normal order, and I knew I was a goner. I felt I had no right to pray for a way out. Everyone else had worked so hard. Then I realized, He's my God, I can at least ask forgiveness for not having done my best, and in a few simple words and a numb heart I prayed a silent prayer. I felt my phone vibrate, I knew this was not the time to be checking my sms, but I did anyway. I don't recall the exact verse but it was something as do not be afraid, I will teach you the words you need to speak. I was comforted, I felt strong, and there was the peace of God descending on me. It was sent by a Hindu classmate, who was not even a friend. God works in mysterious ways. It was a success. It was another important lesson for me - To prepare well in the time God has given me.

Why is it that rational human beings are ready to believe in coincidence, chance or luck but not on God. Why is it that when we have everything, it is very difficult to find the time to sit with Him who gave us the air to breathe, and a family to love. When God in all his goodness and greatness yearns to talk to us, who are we mere mortals who have time for whatsapp, shopping and work, fret that time for family prayer is hard to get? The end is very near. Why, I might not even finish this book I am absorbed in reading at the moment. The future that  I am worried about, I might not live to see it after all. Who knows what tomorrow has in store for us. But time invested in God and love is never futile. They prepare us for eternity.

I might not have the talent of reaching out to masses with God's word, but I sure can write. A good friend told me that just because God answered my prayers doesn't mean He would answer hers. He is as much my Father as hers, and we are loved equally. And who knows how many of us call them coincidence and luck after God had answered a prayer? I personally would be very hurt if someone calls all my help as coincidence and luck. I can only imagine how much pain we cause God. Our trials may be different, but for those who trust in him, the end is victory for sure. I thank God for all his blessings and end with my favorite prayer by Reinhold Niebuhr^[:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.

                                          

Rock a bye, baby on mama's arms

'An hour of sleep before midnight is worth two after' - anonymous

How true! Yawn, and the clock strikes half past one. Liana is in my arms, playing her latest new game, hitting her head heavily my chest with a thud, going back, and striking again. Even in the morning it holds very little fun for me, but at this hour of the night, it's no fun at all. I turn to look at Andrew checking his Whatsapp updates under the bed sheet, hiding from Liana. Any sign that he is awake will make her grin and jump about and that would end all hopes of catching a few hours of sleep.

A few months later... It's 1:00 am. I have learnt better since the old days. I put her in her bed, and run out before anyone can say boo. She screams for about 30 seconds (I keep counting, hiding just out of  her sight) and after which she lies down and hugs Bingo, her toy dog which I had bought for myself but which she made her own, but that is another story. The point is, she falls asleep on her own. But today, I checked in half an hour later, and she's singing "Ringa, Ringa roses" and turning around, holding Bingo's wobbly hands. It's so cute, maybe I should take a photo, but that would tell her I am there. So NO!

Fast forward 2 months... It suddenly strikes me that Liana is growing up fast, and soon I wouldn't be able to rock her to sleep. Filled with guilt, and anxiety, all I want is for her to sleep in my arms, even if it was just one more time. But sadly the monkey has grown up already, and she kicks and stomps and raises a hue, but won't sleep in my arms. I cried... It's hard for anyone other than an emotional mother to comprehend. So I'd understand if it sounds weird or funny. ;) I tried so many times, all I wanted was for my baby to fall asleep in my arms, and watch her sleep, and I couldn't. I started to pray. I was desperate, I knew I had let slip a beautiful phase of my baby's life, and I was never going to get it back. And then a few days later it happened. On the way home in the car she fell asleep in my arms, and I carried her sleeping to her bed. I cried again. I still remember how peaceful she looked, and how delighted I felt.

Crying has become a very regular thing now a days, after motherhood. Not the "boo hoo" crying. But eyes welling up with pride, with happiness, with feelings I can't describe or knew existed until now.

Thanks to God, Liana did sleep in my arms many times after that. But it was an important lesson for me. Each day, she's getting bigger, and just a little out of my reach. I am reminded of song by ABBA:

  "Slipping through my fingers all the time,
  Each time I think I am close to knowing,
  She keeps on growing,
  Slipping through my fingers all the time..."

Liana will grow up, as all children should. God willing, we'll be around to share it with her. And we place everything in God's mighty hands.

Retirement song for my MIL

              Christmas vacation 2014 was eventful. Everyday there was someone to meet, some place to visit, some wedding to attend to, and if there was nothing else on the schedule, we shopped. But the 23rd of December, we set it aside, for that was the day my mother-in-law retired after 35 years of service.

Maami had worked all her adult life, with never a proper vacation, and we wanted to make it special, but we didn't know how. Of course our pastors would be there to pray, all our family was gathering to partake in the feast arranged, but we wanted something really special. And then Prathap annan suggested it would be good if we could write a song and sing it in honour of maami when she came home escorted by all her colleagues. Thank you, annan for the wonderful idea. So somewhere between 12:00 am and 1:00 am of Dec. 23, I sat down and wrote this song. Being the season of Christmas, it's sung in the tune of 'Away in a manger'

Welcome home dear teacher, we welcome you home;
Weekdays or weekends do not matter anymore;
Good daughter, school teacher, virtuous wife and strict mom;
Hates teaching, loves gardening, painting and singing songs.

Dear amma, we love you, we owe you our all;
Pursue now your passions, given up for us all;
Jack of all trades and a true master in all;
Superwoman that's you, now its time to settle down.

35 long years of teaching has been paid off;
You earned this vacation, having worked round the clock;
Bless you our dear amma, you made us who we are;
For your endless-sacrifices, we thank you amma.

Andrew gave me valuable suggestions, and we showed this version to maama, my BIL and Co-sis. Timo got on the guitar, and after a couple of practices we all sang together when maami came home. And Ahem! everyone wanted to know who wrote the song, and I graciously accepted all praise. ;)