Bad mommy
Yesterday, I got a little too overwhelmed and wanted some alone time. Which is kind of hard when you have an infant, especially a cute one which happens to be yours , staring at you and making cute baby sounds. But then, I really really wanted some alone time. So I faked it.
I faked that I had to go potty and then went in and sat for 10 minutes. No potty, just sitting and staring at the towel rack while the ventillator whirred in the background.
I think I just died of guilt today.
The Nanny diaries
So yes, the hunt for a suitable nanny for my little baby has begun. Even though she will be needing one only 3 months from now, such great is the demand that I have to start looking right now. And then there is the thing of budget. I cannot afford those chic looking, CPR sprouting nannies that look like they have just walked out of a movie set because, well..ahem….they probably earn more than me. That kind of leaves me with the Indian aunties who are looking for some light work to keep themselves busy. Which is excellent because I think nothing beats a hearty children loving aunty who also cooks . Not even Red Cross training. But. but, but , but but But. We have a dog at home.
I realize that not everyone likes dogs or are comfortable around them. Which is why I SPECIFICALLY said in my ad that I would like someone who is comfortable around dogs since we have a dog at home. I got phonecalls by the truck loads. I was very surprised because I know that not a lot of Indian ladies are comfortable with dogs. In fact, I re-iterated the fact that we have a dog at home and all of them sounded super confident. They told me tales of how they had four-four dogs in their homes previously and how dear Jackie / Romeo took his last breath in their arms. Anyways, I called them home to talk to them and to also evaluate how comfortable they would be at my home. That was one of the best decisions I made.
Nanny #1 came, looked at my dog and screamed.
Nanny #2 asked why I cannot tie my dog when she is around.
Nanny #3 asked me to get rid of the dog.
Nanny #4 seemed ok. But she called back after she left saying she is scared of dogs.
What part of the “we have a dog at home and the nanny needs to be comfortable around dogs” part of my ad did they not understand???
PS: If anyone thinks Rummy’s behaviour was off the mark during these interviews, the poor chap was sitting all the time on his doggie bed, his head down. One of the times he even fell asleep!
The first official rant
Things have been rosy in the Clueless household. Touch wood. Risha is eating properly and gaining weight. She is not too cranky most of the times. And to sweeten the deal, she has decided to give us a 5 hour sleep stretch in the night.
But. I guess there always has to be a but. And the “but” here is my…well…butt. The thing is, even though I gained only 25 pounds during my pregnancy, 2 months later I still have about 10 pounds torturing me. And no matter what I do, it is not going away even by a pound. In fact, today morning I weighed myself, did some workout, came back and weighed again. And guess what? I showed half a pound heavier!
The issue is not so much my weight as my wardrobe. I love most of my wardrobe. It has been assembled over time – finding sales and deals here and there. Shopping in some vague store where I got the bargain of a lifetime for an awesome top. I had my favourites – some tops fit me fantastically and I could always fall back on them when I was indecisive. There are clothes that K really loved to see me in. And then there are clothes that are filled with memories. Like the chiffon halter that I wore on my honeymoon or the gorgeous salwar my mom sent on my birthday. And now, they no longer fit. Or they don’t fit the way they are supposed to.
I can pull my favourite jeans up my thighs and even button them, but I end up having a muffin top. The top that fit me perfectly now shows a paunch peeking through. And all my tailored clothes – I can’t get them past my bustline because of my humongous lactating boobs (which I am told are temporary). The tops that fit me well and surprise me end up happening to be my pregnancy tops.
I know, I know that after having a baby my body will no longer have the same shape as before. And I am ok with that. But I am unprepared for the drastic way in which it has changed. I am no Heidi Klum, but I do want my thighs to be non-scary and my paunch reduced to maybe a small pooch. Is that too much? Or is it too soon? I don’t know. But I am starting swimming from next week. Hopefully it will do something that will actually show on the scales.
Ladies – what was your experience with post natal weight loss? Is it possible or are we searching for the Yeti here? Any tips? In the meantime, I will keep chugging along on my elliptical, obsessively looking at the rpm and step count.
Back to work and other related things
Yes, I am back at work. I can’t believe it but I am. And my 7 week old baby is with her grandma and grandpa clueless to the fact that her mommy is not around and it just breaks my heart. But I know that I need that extra leave when my mom returns back to India so that Risha gets more family time before starting with a nanny. I know it is for her best, but damn it hurts!
I am stopping that topic right here before this post turns into an illegible rant.
Moving on, I am proud to say that I have been a more green person when it comes to Risha’s things. I have happily accepted things from my friends that they had bought for their kids. A quick wash with some anti bacterial and they are as good as new. Some of these things were barely used for 2-3 months because the kids outgrow them in that span of time. So I have myself baby bean pillow, nursing pillow, some very cute rattles, baby sling, size 1 diapers that my friend’s kid outgrew while they still had stock in that size and I have to say I am mighty pleased. One look into the baby stores here and you will know the excess I am talking about. Everything made of plastic and packaged in more plastic. A device for every little thing connected to the baby. Things that you cannot use for more than 3 months, so you discard them almost brand new! On my side too, Risha has already outgrown her newborn size clothes and moved to the next size ( what?? so soon? maybe I will blink and she will be off to college! ) and those clothes have barely been worn 5 times.
I have also learned that expensive does not always equate to quality. I have seen organic expensive baby oils that cost $20 for a small bottle. I have been making my own using mineral oil, almond oil and avacado oil and it works beautifully. I collectively spent $15 on a big bottle of mineral oil, almond oil and avacado oil and I am not even past the half way mark. I bought some super expensive diaper rash cream which did nothing for my baby. And then I use plain old petroleum jelly and boom! no more rashes. All you experienced moms out there must be rolling their eyes over what must be common for you, but please let me bask in the glory of these discoveries for a while…
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I always knew that with Rummy and Risha together, there will be some things that will happen that may not be very appealing. What I did not expect is for them to start happening so soon! Rummy has perfected the art of stealthily licking some part of Risha and running away. So far he has been able to lick her head and her leg. I hope the face part is postponed to sometime later. In return, Risha caught Rummy’s wet nose and was really amused. I had to wipe her hand really really fast before she decided to chuck it into her mouth.
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Risha’s grandpa arrived last week and seems to be quite smitten with his brand new grand daughter. At the same time, he is freaked out about carrying Risha because she is so “little and delicate”. Everytime he has to carry her, he “prepares” by getting some 2 blankies on his lap and one more to cover Risha and sits very still for the time Risha is on his lap. His morning routine starts with keeping a highly awake and happy Risha engaged in conversation. And oh boy! does she talk! For full 45 minutes non stop. And sometimes even an hour if she has pooped and is feeling mighty pleased about it. But for some reason, all her grandpa can say to her is “Koli mari! Koli mari!” (baby hen! baby hen!) which repeated for 45 minutes can have adverse effects on a sleep deprived mom.
Risha’s grandpa also got himself a super stylish set of aviators and has been wanting to wear it on his walks for “UV protection”. But the rain gods have not been kind to him and most of the day ends up being cloudy. He carries his new sun glasses anyways in hope that some small ray of sunshine will break through. Risha’s grandma laughs at him everyday for this.
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K is getting very sentimental about his daughter. For the most part Risha is dressed in overalls that keep her warm. When we were having visitors, I decided to put a pretty frock and K was all freaked out saying “Oh my God! she looks like a girl in this. Why do you have to make her frocks already? Soon she will grow up and get married and go away”. Drama queen anyone??
K also gets very creative when he is the sleepiest. So every time Risha wakes up in the night, a new scene unfolds. One day she is He-man (remember that cartoon??) and the next day she is Simba being shown to the forest. His lullabies are equally interesting. Mostly it is “Saare Jahan se Accha” but can morph into “Its the time to disco” and many such inappropriate songs.
So yup, that is a glimpse of the clueless household, more chaotic than it has ever been – all thanks to a tiny 9 pounder.
Risha – The homecoming
It was on Jan 11th that I went to see my OB for the 39 week’s appointment. The OB did a quick check and shook her head. Nope. No change. Looks like I would be heading past my due date and would have to be most probably induced at the hospital for labor.
Only a couple of days later, I made plans for gorging on Sakkare pongal on Sankranthi day. After informing Amma of my intentions the previous night, I headed to sleep with all the Pongal dreams only to be woken up early morning 2am with what else but my water breaking….which I did not take too seriously. I only vaguely remembered that I needed to call my doctor when my water broke and placed that midnight call to my OB. She did not seem too excited either. She just asked me to head to the hospital at 6am. I headed to the hospital at my own sweet time….7:30am. I was fully sure that they would take one look at me and ask me to head right back home. Imagine my suprise when they hooked up all those monitors and then declared that I was in labor!
My contractions were getting stronger and stronger. But Risha had decided that the good old position for babies was not good enough for her and had turned the other way with her face facing my stomach. Which meant that I had to deal with increasingly strong back pain…yeah the filmy screaming kind of back pain. I was offered some pain relief or epidural, but my OB had told that her turning during labor would be difficult with pain meds and it could mean a C-section. So I decided to hold on till she came over to take a look. By the time she actually arrived, I was in so much pain that I just wanted out. So I took a shot of this narcotic pain killer. I now understand why people get hooked onto drugs….because the damn thing makes you feel soo good!
When the doc came over, I was still under my narcotic influence and I remember telling her that I am playing scrabble with myself in my head when she asked me what I was upto. Sweet thing that she is, she offered a laptop so that I can play scrabble online, which I refused because I was sure I would lose and my rankings would do down! Yeah…my baby was travelling down the birth canal and all I could think of was my online rankings!!!! Finally she decided I could have the epidural and I did. Promptly I went off to sleep. And looks like the epidural helped to because I went from 2cm dialated to 10cm dialted pretty fast and soon it was time to push. But Queen Risha had not budged an inch from her face-up position which meant that mommy had to push in all kind of weird positions….and I promptly got a sprain just above my epidural line and it HURT. I mean, it hurt more than my contractions. I refused to push till the anasthesiologist did something about the pain. Finally I was given another shot of something really good and I continued to push. Every time I had a contraction I would squeeze my mom’s hand on one side and curl up into K on the other side. Pretty soon the whole labor room became a cheerleading squad with the OB, the nurses, K and my mom all chanting “Push..Push..Push..Push” and when I thought that I was done and could push no more, I heard my baby cry. She had her head out and with one more push, she slid out entirely.
The doctor immediately placed her on my chest and it was the most wonderful warm feeling in the entire world. Risha cried for about 5 seconds and then decided the surroundings were pretty interesting and decided to check them out. She looked at me, K , my mom with a lot of curiosity, gave a small smile and went off to sleep.
Two days later, we were ready to be discharged from the hospital. One of the things on the checklist to be completed was breastfeeding classes. But I was so bored attending these classes that I decided Risha and me would manage just fine without one…and so I bunked. I feigned a headache and bunked. Yep. I hope Risha does not come to know of it anytime soon.
We got Risha home in her carseat and let Rummy come outside and greet her. But my really dumb dog was so happy seeing me that he did not even notice that there was a baby. We took Risha to her room and there she let out her famous cry that the nurses had warned me about. Rummy was so suprised that he came running into the room and wanted to sniff her. We let him calm down and then sniff her. That entire night Rummy spent outside our room door, looking concerned everytime Risha cried. Now, he has become more intelligent. He only rushes to her aid when he feels she is really crying or if he feels no one is attending to her. He also makes sure to check the crib everytime a visitor leaves our house. Touch wood, I hope their relationship continues to grow into a love filled one.
A brand new baby
My due date was on Jan 19 and my doctor told me I would take even longer to have the baby. But I guess she had other plans for Sankranthi.
Here comes Risha!
Btw…three nurses came over and independently declared her a screamer. Oh well……
Stumped.
Yesterday, K and I went to the car dealership to pick up our new family friendly ride. While we were there signing away and taking on yet another loan, the sales rep asked me if I was expecting twins. Thanks to modern technology, I know for sure that I am NOT expecting twins. So I told him that. He just proceeded to comment “Oh…so you are just eating a lot then huh?”
I don’t know how to react to that. Period.
PS: Looks like the baby is going after K’s side of the family! All of his siblings were born…lets say….healthy!
Of moms and storytelling
One of the most fairytale like aspects of motherhood is storytelling. It conjures up images of you in bed next to your little one, telling them stories of lands far far away. Or telling them stories of brave and strong heroes who ate their vegetables every day when it comes time for food. When I was a little girl, I had some trouble getting food down my throat. Ofcourse, my mom told me stories – nay – a single story every day (because that was the only story I wanted) to help food ease down my screaming throat. And what was that magical story – you might ask. Well here it goes….
One day, when Amma was in the bank (thats where she still works), a really really huge cockroach came in (yeah you heard it right – cockroach). The cockroach was so big that it was bigger than everyone. And it threatened to eat everyone in the bank. All bank people were very scared and did not know what to do. Just when the cockroach was about to eat someone, Clueless came into the bank with her gun (Yes, I had an air gun when I was 5 years old. You could put stones into it and it shot them out with a *plop* sound). Then, Clueless took her gun and shot the cockroach and it died. Everyone clapped. The End.
I still can’t understand for the life of me why I was so interested in cockroaches. I guess my mom did not analyse too much either – if the story worked and I ate peacefully, she had no complaints with my cockroach obsession. Today, we have become a little too obsessed with doing the politically correct things I guess. No one will willingly tell their kid a story of how they killed a cockroach with a gun. What if they grow up to be serial killers or something?
The end of cool
Not so long ago, I remember how I bought my first car. I had seen the newly released model online and was really fascinated that the roof was completely transparent. And it was a sports car. And I could afford it. So the next day, I walked up to the dealer and bought my new two-door car. Just like that. I did not even have a drivers license. I don’t know how I convinced the insurance guy to even insure my car. When I sent pics of my car to my parents, my mother was worried that the car had only TWO doors. Her logic was simple – when I was paying “so much” for a car, it should come properly equipped with four doors. And what was I to do when I had a “family”? I had cooly replied to my mom that my spouse would have the “family” car and she need not worry about it.
And then, I married K. Who had a Mustang. Not only was it a two door car, but it was almost impossible for anyone to sit in the backseat without cutting their legs off. Thankfully, when we got Rummy home, he managed not to sit like a human in the backseat and the arrangement worked beautifully for us. So far. Now I have a belly that looks like it is ready to pop any minute and there is no way on earth a baby car seat AND a dog are going to fit in the back of any two door car. Not to mention that Rummy does not wear a seat beat and goes sommersaulting everytime we hit the brakes hard – which was fine too until now because he had the whole back seat to roll in. So yeah, getting to the point, we are selling of one of our first loves to buy a sensible SUV that will house an entire family without any acrobatics involved. Too bad I cannot hail autos here and keep our car a little longer.
This time the process has been so different. First we came up with a budget. Four years ago I would not even know how much money I had in my account. Second, we checked out the safety ratings on all the models we were interested in. Roll over test, crash test, air bags – the whole nine yards. And then we test drove one model after another and further narrowed our search based on things like traction control, ABS (some advanced breaking mechanism – I think ) and other such weird features that I had never considered before. Engine power was considered only in terms of cargo capacity. And yes, we had one other criteria – the back cargo space should be high enough for our dog to stand and put his head out of the window.
For the last criteria, K carried a measuring tape to measure the height of the cargo area in every model we tested. Some made the cut and some did not. And one Desi car salesman was frustrated enough to yell at us saying “Are you buying the car for the dog or for yourself?” – which pissed us off a great deal. And yes, his models did not make the cut. No wonder. All diversion tactics.
So yes, we have finally zeroed in on a model that fits our wallet, our dog and our baby. K is now in the haggle-phase with all dealers in a 50 mile radius to see who has the best deal. We will be trading off the Mustang and a part of our carefree lives along with it. Every now and then I see K hugging the steering wheel a little tighter and even planting a kiss on it when he thinks no one is looking. I know how you feel babes, and I know my car’s turn will come too. Hopefully not too soon.
A pic of the cutest looking dog because of whom we let go of a few car models, got yelled at by a salesman and who always leaves a mark on my car’s upholstery with his never ending shedding..
My dog is a drama queen
I decided to take a break from all my pregnancy related banter and talk to you today about Rummy. For the past 6 weeks that my FIL has been staying with us, Rummy has had a one way love affair with him. As in, Rummy tries to get every opportunity to lick my FIL’s hands and wags his tail at him in the most doggily seductive manner, but has been suitably ignored by FIL. All this rejection my poor dog has been taking pretty well, except for one fine day…..
Well, my SIL had come over to visit my FIL when me and K were away at work. Now, Rummy conducts a one way love affair with my SIL also. Except that she does not respond because she is still a little scared of Rummy (which I have tried to explain to her is like being scared of something as harmless as cookies…but still ). Anyways, SIL and FIL were both talking away, ignoring Rummy like they usually do. And my dog as usual was sleeping on his bed pretending not to care, when in reality he would have come running to them if they even looked in his direction. And then it happend. When sending my SIL away, apparently FIL and SIL had a small argument at the door. Now, Rummy thinks he is a peacekeeper from United Nations, only that he is of the canine variety. So he ran to the door and stood between both of them. And they both got a little scared. Soon, they got over it and my SIL tried to get into her van. Rummy decided to take the opportunity to get a ride for himself and hopped into SIL’s van and was uncermoniously kicked out.
This was the trigger for Rummy who loves car rides more than anything else on earth. And I guess his feelings were a little hurt too. So in true Gandhian fashion, he went and threw himself on the road in front of SIL’s van. And refused to get up. For two people who are a little scared of dogs, moving a 80 pounder off the road is no easy task. My FIL tried yelling at him, calling him softly. Nothing worked. He even got a nice banana from his personal statch and offered it to Rummy. But Rummy was ofcourse too hurt to even consider it even though normal circumstances would have him drooling at any food.
Finally after 15 minutes of dharna, I guess the road got a little too hot for Rummy’s comfort. So he got up and cooly walked back to the house to claim his spot under the fan.
When I came home and my FIL told me this, my first reaction was to let out a laugh. But it was quickly stifled by the look on my FIL’s face. But I am sure one day he will see the humor in this story, maybe even tell it to his grand kids. Why, he has already started feeding Rummy a small piece of his dosa every morning and I can almost see his face widen when he sees him every morning.
Here is an “innocent” pic of my drama queen…
Why all things lead to chaos 
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