Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah to all my lovely readers. Hope you had an awesome day and Santa spoiled you really well.

This year, after a very long time, all of my family (UK edition) was in UK and needless to say we celebrated Christmas with much splendour, some tasty grub, lots of laughter, singing, dancing and just the ride dose of madness. Rather than blabbering here, I would just let my pictures do the talking.

Christmas jumper style and fashion

When we sort of twinned 😀

Christmas lunch

Our lovely food spread

Christmas jumper style and fashion

Waiting not-so-patiently to open the presents 😉

As I said in my previous post, this truly is a magical time and one filled with warmth and hope. The perfect time to count our blessings and realise that despite all the daily challenges we do have a lot to be thankful for too. 😀

Thank you for reading, have a wonderful week and happy holidays. Do not forget to follow me. You can also follow me on Twitter, Instagram and Pinterest too.

Paulo Coelho stated, “A child can teach an adult three things: to be happy for no reason, to always be busy with something, and to know how to demand with all his might that which he desires.” As a new mum, I can totally vouch for this. Being a first time mom can be a rollercoaster ride but here is a funny side of the whole First time mommy thing. Before I start the post, I must say I love my daughter to bits (OK, I would love her more if she slept more ;)). I did not know it was possible to love anyone so much. Sometimes, I am on the brink of insanity but still she makes it worthwhile and so without further ado here are the funny things I have learnt as a First time Mom.

Image Via Google Images

Image Via Google Images

  • Those who say they slept like a baby clearly do not have one or have never been with one.
  • I have always been very lady like so why the hell does my daughter fart so loudly especially outside amidst strangers? Why, oh why?
  • Before the babe, I had a full-time job; I was also blogging, socializing with friends and regularly going to gym. I had a busy life or so I thought. Now, I will give my left arm to have a 48-hour-day and I suspect I would still need more.
  • Often after feeding, cleaning and dressing her up, I would think I will relax for a wee-bit with a nice cuppa and just when I let my guard down the baby she……poops.
  • Babies are unpredictable. Just when I think I have mastered her non-verbal cues and “aaaah aah” songs and feel rather pleased with myself for taking stock of her needs, she would change track and then it is back to square one.
  • I always wanted to have super powers now I have one– I make milk.
  • My boobs—they are no longer just mine or my hubby’s for that matter. They are solely and only hers. Her food and sometimes (na, all the time) her comforter, soother, cushion and toy.
  • Those who say babies should have schedule from day one don’t have kids of their own or live in some fairy land.
  • It is slightly annoying when stranger people (na, girls) coo at my hubby when he carries her whilst while I am carrying her, I am just doing my natural duty.
  • The best way to get a baby’s attention: pretend you are relaxing.
  • Just when you think you can get busy with your hubby/partner. Babies will bawl crazy they just know that you are having too much fun without them.
  • Motherhood is not all cuddling, laughter and walk in the park. Motherhood is actually series of shocks and harsh realizations, disgusting things under my fingernails, horrifying smells, and constant irritation.
  • And yet when your baby gives you her innocent laughter, talks to you in her baby language you know you will die thousand deaths just for your baby.

Hope you enjoyed this post. Do share your thoughts and comments and show me your love with your likes and follows. Have a great mid-week. 

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A mother’s sincere prayer.
A father’s protective hug.
A child slowly twirling your fingers.
A laughter that can fill your soul.
A force that changes you for better.
A foolish, trembling happiness.

 

 

Growing up as a young adult, two things scared me to death–marriage and commitment. No, it was not because I grew up in a household that was tearing apart or because I was  surrounded by hate. Quite the contrary. Marriage was something I never associated with myself; worse I never used to think I would ever be lucky enough to fall in love. Yes, along came a man who changed all that (more on him later). My college friends and peers taunted my “single” status for ages; some even giving me meaningful advice that I should stop intimidating the opposite sex with my radical views and should learn to act dumb and tender. How was I to make someone like me or fall for the “fake” me was never explained?  And there were those who thought I was a sexless robot; who was only interested in landing a job and cementing my reputation professionally.

How could I explain to them that my idea of love was just too high? That it wasn’t about expensive gifts and comforts, that it extended way beyond things that money can buy. I consider my own parents and grandparents to be the most romantic people, I’ve ever met. They belong to an era when there wasn’t any Valentine’s Day, when you didn’t have social media to declare your love, expensive gifts or trips around the world to make the other half feel desired. It was simpler times and love too was simple.

My thatha (Grandpa) was a tough cookie. He was a stoic man who rarely displayed any emotion. A man of uniform– perhaps his uniform brought in him toughness and discipline rarely seen in others. If I was afraid of anyone in the family it was only him. The only man who could straighten out this wayward, rebellious kid. I could never understand how my poor ammuma (granny) spent an entire life with him, raised four daughters and sailed through the ups and downs that life throws . To me, ammuma was everything thatha was not. She was gentle when he was tough; she was sweet when he was strict. She showered me with love when all he did was drill some discipline in me. She was chalk when he was cheese.

I could not imagine two people more different who were put together in marriage. It was an arranged one like the norm those days in India. For a long time, I felt they carried on the relationship because it was considered as a pious institution. But as I grew up, I learnt an interesting story from ammuma. I learnt about this tough man who gave up his only love; his uniform to be with her. To help her raise the kids (something which was solely woman’s job those days) and to leave his comfort zone, his moments of glory to be with her; love if nothing else is about putting the other person before you.

Yes, times got tough (like times do) and even money was slow but their steadfast love for each other kept the worst things at bay. For ammuma, thatha was a hero not because he constantly declared his love to her but because he gave her wings to fly, an independence which most of women (of later generations) take for granted. Love for them was a giant leap of faith in each other. Annoyingly enough, they could even speak each other’s thoughts.

You see why I thought love, marriage and commitment was too difficult  to fathom? My standards were just too high. It is not about expensive gifts or sexy candle night dinners.

It is about being a powerful team. It is when I don’t have to pretend anything with my man. It is when he treats me like an equal in every walk of life. It is about an unflinching faith.

And yes, it is about finishing sentences.