C for Courage 

How often after making a mistake do you own up and say sorry? I speak for myself when I say this –  saying sorry or owning up to a mistake isn’t easy. It’s the right thing to do but is never easy. 

A few days ago, I was having a conversation with my husband and we were debating about how the word extempore is pronounced. I was most certain that I was saying it right. After much deliberation we decided to ask google to be the referee. 

As luck would have it, I was wrong and the husband was right. All this while our older son was sitting close by and watching our heated exchange. 

He looked at me and said, “Amma, you were wrong.” “Hmmm, yes,” I said without really acknowledging it. 

He went on, “you should say sorry to Appa.” 

Such an important lesson, taught to me  in such a subtle way. Let’s have the courage to say sorry where it is due. It doesn’t make us any smaller. 

Thank you darling child for yet again teaching me something. 



B for Blessing

 Motherhood is so many things put together. It’s pleasure and pain in equal parts. No one tells you about the pain but having a support system around you makes it a tad bit easier. 

My mother stood by me during both my deliveries and helped both me and the boys gain strength. The first time around she just took over and the first three months went by only because she was there. 

Whether it was staying up at night calming a howling colicky baby, or just entertaining him when he didn’t want to sleep – she was always there. 

The second time around she had fractured her foot and yet she was by my side from the hospital to home where she took charge and ensured everything was in order. 

There is no way I could have done this without her. She is indeed a blessing not just for me but also for my kids. I hope I am able to instil half of what she has in my brother and me. 

At my older ones birthday party two days ago, one of his friends asked, “do you have two mothers?” While technically the answer to that is a no, in reality the answer is very much a YES. My mother is as much a mother to my sons as I am.


A for Appreciation 

A week of viral fever had left me completely drained of all energy and enthusiasm. With the husband travelling I had to ensure that both the kids were looked after, fed, chaperoned to school and back, and went about their regular activities. Basically life went on at its usual pace and it didn’t really matter that I was unwell. 

Once the husband returned he suggested we all step out and have a good meal, while I wasn’t up to a meal out yet I was looking forward to just getting out. “Let’s go have coffee instead,” I suggested. 

Just as I was getting ready I heard a loud noise outside and my heart sank knowing fully well that something was broken and it would need fixing. I stormed out of my room asking the boys what they’d broken. 

Thankfully it was just a plastic water bottle that fell from the table. After cleaning up the split water, I strapped the younger one into the the high chair and went into the room to get ready. 

Five minutes later as I stepped out my older one says, “Amma, you are looking so nice in this dress. You look like a princess. No no a queen.” 

As parents we all work so hard to do the right thing for our kids and when the kids say things like this, it makes you so proud. 

This act of appreciation will go a long way and I will always remember it fondly. 


Let’s learn to love, without conditions

‘Boys don’t cry.’ 

‘Don’t be a sissy.’ 

‘Come on toughen up, you are a man.’ 

Haven’t we all heard statements like this often enough. My child is a creature of habit and likes to do things a certain way. Every day he gives me a kiss and a hug before he gets into school. Unfortunately he wasn’t able to do that yesterday and what followed were huge tears and heartbreak.

Knowing fully well that this could dampen his day at school I sent out a quick mail to his teachers giving them a heads up of what had transpired outside. 

In the afternoon when I went to pick him up, one of his teachers in a slightly miffed tone told me that I should toughen my boy a little. I cringed but refrained from saying anything.

As I turned to walk out, his class teacher from last year and his present class teacher walked up to me and said, ‘oh, we were looking for you. We have to share something with you.’ My heart sank, I wondered what I would be told. 

His teacher smiled and started speaking, ‘this little fellow ( ruffles R’s hair) comes up to me today in the corridor and complements me on the saree I am wearing. He then walks back to his class and suddenly turns around comes running and asks me if I can do him a favour. I asked him to go ahead and ask me and here’s what he said.’ 

By now I had eased my heart and was listening to every word she was saying. ‘He asked me to get the exact same saree for you and was very particular that he would only want this same colour,’ she said. 

At this point his current class teacher pitched in to say that he’s such a caring and sensitive child. Children like this are very rare today. 

And just like that I was smiling again. 

It is so important to let these children be. Let’s not try and mould and change their inherent traits. We will be doing them the greatest disservice if we change them or steer them in a direction they aren’t meant to take. 

Let’s let them be 🙂 

Birthdays today! 

Birthdays – until I had children I never thought it would be such a huge thing. Birthdays always meant celebration at home; sandwiches, mini pizzas, samosa ( as we grew older), wafers, and juice. 

Games at these parties were what my mother would come up with. 1 minute challenges, passing the parcel, paper dance, and some random dancing. 

Photographs would be clicked by my father and the roll would be given for developing once it got over. Some pictures would be great, some obscure, and some just laughable. But so much fun. 

Return gifts – would almost always be stationary. Pencil boxes, fancy erasers, sharpeners, pencils, colours. 

Today it’s a different world out there. There’s insane amount of planning that is needed to pull of a good birthday. Hats off to all parents who painstakingly put these parties together. From the decor to the food to the cake to the outfit that the child and parents wear needs planning. Birthdays were so much simpler when I was growing up. 

A friend asked me if I would be there at a birthday party and I asked which one. Then I realised I wasn’t invited to it so said no to my friend. Note how I say ‘I’ wasn’t invited, birthdays now are more for the adults to socialise than the children really. 

Since a bunch of others were invited to the party and I was perhaps one of the few mothers who wasn’t, I felt bad. 

I didn’t realise that I had carried this sadness home. After dinner I was sitting alone and trying to read when my son came up to me and asked what’s wrong. 

Me – nothing at all

Son – you are looking sad Amma 

Me- smiling, just thinking about something

Son- prodding, but what?

Me- some birthday party that we are not invited to

Son- whose? 

Me- I tell him the name 

Son- who is that?

Me- that’s when it struck me. While I may be feeling sad about not being invited to a party where everyone else has been, my child was right – he didn’t know the child at all. What sense would it make to be invited? 

Lesson learnt – don’t try and be everywhere with everyone. It’s not possible and you won’t do justice to either them or yourself. Choose well and stay happy! 

Help please! 

There has to be a limit to pushing my buttons. There will be a point beyond which I will snap. I’m a fairly tolerant person and it takes a lot to get me angry. But off late my help at home has been managing to do this very often. 


I must have requested the dhobi on multiple occasions to never let our clothes be with him overnight. If for some reason he is unable to finish the work I have always asked him to return the clothes and pick it up the following day. Despite being told again and again he chooses to do just that. What would you think? Is he doing it on purpose to irk me? Or is he genuinely incapable of comprehending a simple instruction. 


I have, sorry strike that, I had a help who was the Schumacher equivalent in housework. In less than 60 minutes she accomplished so much work that it often gave me a complex. Anyway, to cut a long story short. The one day that my entire family decides to wake up late and laze around madam decides to clean all the bathrooms before any of us could even saunter out of bed. 

Just as she was gathering her things to leave, I told her she’d have to come back given that none of us had had a bath. She looked straight at me and said NO. Unsure of whether I had heard right I repeated myself. She repeated herself, NO. If you all cannot wake up and have a bath on time I can’t help it, I can’t change my time for you, she said. Trust me I felt like I’d been punched. 

This was perhaps the only time I had asked anything of her. The next day she didn’t show up and the day after when she did she tells me she can’t work in my house because I don’t adjust 😵 really now! 


The highlight has to be the help who worked for 1.5 days. In that short period of time she made me go through a gamut of emotions. She was brilliant at her job no doubt and perhaps thought she could use that to her advantage. On her second day at work as she was making the bed she tells me she needs an advance of ₹15,000/-. 

I’m not even sure on how to react so continue feeding my child. She asked again. I said, you’ve barely stepped into my house and you want ₹15,000/-? What she says next blew my mind. She puts the quilt down and says, ‘if you can’t give it to me then I’ll just have to leave.’ And just like that she walked out 😤

Be kind! 

One statement is all it took to rattle me and make me supremely uncomfortable. At a dinner we recently attended with kids in tow, another mom whom I was meeting for the first time said to me, ‘is he also 4.5 years of age?’ She asked this pointing to my son who was playing with a group of 4 other similar age group kids. ‘Yes, he is,’ I said looking at my son and smiling. 

She then goes to say rather loudly, ‘oh I thought he was older. He looks so much ‘bigger’ than the other kids.’ The word bigger stuck to me. Why say anything at all if you can’t be tactful in what you say? The rest of the evening, for me, was a blur. What killed me further was when my child came up to me and apologetically said, ‘Amma I will pull my stomach in like this, see.’ 

To all those amazing people whom I come in contact with – don’t do and say things that will scar my child or me. Another time a well meaning friend while picking my child up feigned a back pain and said, ‘ah looks like you’ve gotten big.’ He went on to make some sounds that clearly indicated how hard it was on him to carry my child. 

Did I ask you to carry him?? Why take it upon yourself and then trouble us this way? 

It is also so important that we as patents watch what we say in front of kids. Kids don’t learn to call each other ‘motu’, ‘ladoo’, ‘golu’ etc. if they haven’t heard it being said at home. 

So please, if you can’t be kind just stay away. It’s so much better that way.