The pleasure and pain of paternity

Sunday my baby turned 6 months old!! Whoa!! Boy o boy, shes a big gurl :D

As I dressed her and gave her a bath, which I do with remarkable speed now, I could not help but wonder how time flew!!! And one thing that kept us sane in the initial days of her birth was the 2 weeks paternity leave of K.

K was a fantastic support after Chiyaa was born. He was fully hands on - ready for every nappy change, helping me in and out of the bed and being a major help in the kitchen too. As I look back, it will be him the total knight in shining armour throughout.

Some moments.....

On day 2 as I walked down the hospital corridor, carrying the meals, there were some other ladies too who were dragging their battered bodies :) And K was standing at the far end minding Chiyaa. Then he splurted - it looks like a slo mo race you know, all you women carrying the plates and walking real slowly. You never know we can even end up having a photo finish. Come onnnnnn you can do it. Inspite of my stitches, I could not help but laugh out loud.

After getting back home, the initial settling in was the hardest. K took complete charge of the kitchen, though he hated it. He most hated loading and unloading the dishwasher of course. He used to especially curse the 'freaking spoons'. The whole process was termed 'The Great Migration'!!

The first night was of course the hardest where we did not sleep a wink. She was just up all the time! Finally at 0600 she slept and we slept like we were dead. In spite of being in dire need of sleep, K dragged himself up at 0900 and got on doing all the chores of the house. One time he even searched the net and made tawa pulao!!! It was so heartening to wake up to the smell of something nice and be treated to a smashing lunch.

There were times when Chiyaa would just not rest on the bed. All she wanted was to be held. K spent many a nights just holding her and sitting. Of course he used to dose off - but never complain. 

Some evenings the little one used to especially fussy. K would try his level best to pacify her. But one time, he just could not and was loosing it. Then finally she tired herself out and slept off. He somehow felt he was not doing enough and felt very guilty. So much so I saw his eyes glisten :( Poor dear. 

The initial days were surely the hardest, but I would not have survived them but for K.

Super Sunday

There is something about Sunday isn't it? It always prefers being on extremities. It is either depressing, filled with dread and apprehension for the Monday lurking round the corner. Or it is lazy and idyllic filled with warm and fuzzy things.

Luckily yesterday happened to be one of the good ones! During the customary morning call with Chennai granny we were skimming through some old photos trying to ascertain whether Munchkin goes after her mom or her dad. K chanced upon some old pics of his college days. And he realised it had been eons since he had chatted with one of his oldest college mates. 

To get a hold of him, he made some calls to some other friends. Two hours flew by and he caught up with friends far and away                                                                            in the search of the elusive one. Even I had the opportunity to speak to one of his very close college pal who is also a new mom. It was mostly updates about our respective babies, but then, it was rather fulfilling to fill so many gaps. 

We managed to squeeze in some lunch after which K got on gossiping with yet another friend who is also currently in the UK. I busied myself with making some egg chops :) but could not help giggling at their conversation. They were on about old profs, quirks of friends and their shenanigans in college days. Seriously guys can roll on the floor laughing at such silly stuff :D 

As the egg chops got massacred with some chai K managed to find his longggggggggg lossssssssst kumbh mela ka saathi. They were talking like sorority sisters!! Yack yack yack yack. After talking for some 90 mins, they realised that omnipotent Skype exists! Skype connected - it was shocking to see his 20kg weight loss. It was pleasing to see his wife. It was awesome catching up.

For quite some time after the call K kept reminiscing. He was just so happy. Is there anything which can make you feel better than seeing the one you love so blissful?

The kadi mehnat se bane egg chops.

A gate at the stairs

I had never heard of Lorrie Moore. The synopsis said it had something to do with post 911 America ( I am never hard bound on them) I think it was Nick Hornby's quote "The best American writer of her generation" that made me pick the book.

The book is about a 20 year old student Tassie who gets into a baby sitting job for a child who is adopted by a restaurateur-scientist couple. The child is African American but the couple are 'white'. A good half of the book deals with Tassie bonding deeply with the child Mary-Emma. The couple Sarah and Edward being into very packed schedules end up paying not much than lip service into rearing the child. Another thread through the book is of Tassie and her family who live in the country.

The book does not have any monumental twists or turns. It for that matter lacks any purpose. Its sort of hearing a narrative from a very sarcastic person about mundane events. There is an utter tone of pessimism through the book as the writer etches the coming to terms with a new child and Tassie's study breaks spent in the country side. But what surely impressed me was the wryness of the author which was scathing but somehow had a point. 

Savour these :-

• Adoption seemed both a cruel joke and a lovely day dream - a nice way of avoiding the blood and pain of giving birth,or, from a child's perspective, a realised fantasy of your parents not being your parents.
• My brother's boy's life seemed lonely and hard to me. He still had one snaggletooth that poked out of his smile. This was because there had been enough orthodontia money for one of us, so it went to the daughter whose looks would matter(wasted on me! a smileless girl I felt no man would ever desire-not deeply)
• "Awesome" I said in that particular way, I knew, our generation had of finding that everything either "sucked" or was "awesome". We used awesome the way the British used brilliant: for anything at all. Perhaps, as with the British, it was a kind of antidepressant: inflated rhetoric to keep the sorry truth at bay.
• Would it have been so bad  to have remained a colony of England? I wondered fiercely with every bang. Would it have been so terrible if every dessert was called a pudding even  if it was a cake, to grow up saying "in hospital", to lose a few articles, to spell gray with an e, to resprinkle the r's, to have an idle king and an idle queen, and to put all the car steering wheels on the right? Well perhaps the steering wheels would be worth fighting for.

The book has a lot of conversations which leads to nothing. Makes you feel why is the writer dishing all this out? But then isn't that how life is too - aren't most conversations just a way to fill time? There is just one little snippet of anticipation - which lasts for 20 odd pages. Those are the pages where you are on the watchout for - what's going to happen next. Else most of the book is predictable. 

I would recommend the book for enjoying the play of words. And for having a taste of pessimism bordering on funny. Would I recommend the book - maybe no. Do I regret reading it - no. A boo to the book but whoo hoo to the author.

Ingredients for a (near) perfect day

• 20 mins of garma garam chai with Chennai granny on Skype
• 20 mins of exercise 
• The 5 month old falling asleep in the meanwhile with its dad for 45 mins
• 60 minutes of rejuvenating chat with a dear friend ;) 
• 45 minutes of respite utilized in making brownies while the 5 month old sleeps off again (The brownies look like gau maata's ahem excreta.... but taste fine :D ) 
• 105 minutes of watching the Olympic Triathlon while ironing some much wrinkled clothes of the better half
• 30 minutes of 'giggle time' with the 5 month old
• 120 minutes of nap by the kiddo which gives you time to be just 37 pages away from the end of a book (yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy)
• 60 minutes of chat with BBSR granny 
• 45 minutes of vigorous play while waitingggggggggg with bated breath for daddad to return (something special for dinnnnnnerrrr)
• 30 minutes of very very very very very and veryyyyyyyy anxious wait for the pizza
• 15 minutes of hogging down the pizza at break neck speed and by miracle the baby is asleep so mommy can afford to eat the slices with both hands (yea I eat pizza with both hands :P )
• A forever thinking how divine the pizza was!!! (Yes I am a true foodie and that was the highlight of the day :D  Even K told your stomach got some action after a long time so I can understand your feelings ;)   ) 

The book, the pizza, the Olympics and a sleeping baby

Added later - of course the brownies from Mars ;) 

When the other side is correct

I read this on the omniscient, omnipresent Facebook - In marriage there is the right side and then there is the husband. How true :P

But then sometimes the other half says something which is ahem - correct.

Well it so happens that I hate rains. I have made my hatred for it stand out time and again. Now I am in a place where rains are well well well the less said the better. Friday was the (1000)¹⁰⁰⁰  th day that it was raining continuously. Cos it was a Friday I was a bit more miffed at the rains than usual. Then K asked me - If what you feel like doing in the rains is snuggle in the bed with a cup of tea and read a book, why don't you do that? Why do you try to fight  it? Satya Vachan!!!!! 

I was like such pearls of wisdom making perfect sense from himmmmmmmmmmm!!!! I choose to obey thee. So once K started to work I sat up all cosy with a cup of coffee and got on an elongated call with my mom over Skype. I did not care about making lunch for the day, making some snacks ready as I do when Chiyaa is asleep. I just went on yak yak yakkity yak with mom about all and sundry. Like good ol days. Chiyaa too on cue slept long and nice. The day following was K's birthday and I thought I could bake the wise man a cake. I took directions from the expert baker mommy. Got everything ready and then realised I did not have a baking tray. So I got on the original plan - yep Microwave cookies. (Natural progression from no bake to microwave bake to full scale baking) And the result is thus - 

 

IN YOUR FACE BAKING in your faceeeeeee. K liked the cake but would have preferred it fluffier because as soon as he put the (plastic) fork inside, the fork broke into two! Things will surely improve the next time around :) 

As of now I was waiting for the bday to come up while praying my plants survive the battering.

Iss raat ki subah nehi

*Mummy type post

Now we had the morning after. I was with my VIP all the while waiting for Daddad to come back. The day went in a flurry of activities with calls, checkups, visits from S and B who were really helpful. Finally through it all came the dreaded hour of 2130. 2200 was the deadline till which visitors were allowed in the ward. K bid me goodbye at 2200 sharp. Yes even if you have a new baby in hand and have been through a life changing episode barely 24 hours ago, you are supposed to fend for yourself through the night all alone. 

As K left I was left alone in a ward with 4 other women with their newborns. Our pains, fears, joys, anxieties were separated by curtains. So though we could not see each other we could sense what the other person was doing. There was one lady whose kid was having difficulty feeding and she was a bit perturbed and was having repeated checks done by the doctors. She was recommended to have a pediatrician visit her in the morning. There was yet another lady who was snoring through - I was a bit baffled as to how did her baby let her sleep! :) Yet another lady was wheeled in the last moment. Her spirit was simply contagious. She was chirping around. She was asking questions and responding with such enthusiasm. Really hats off to her energy and vivaciousness. 

As for me, I was with a really fussy Chiyaa. She was just not  happy in the baby basket. I was getting sleepy and exhausted. But seeing no other go, I kept her with me and tried dozing. A couple of nurses came over and helped a bit in taking her for sometime while I literally caught forty winks. The night was sooooooo dreadfully long. I kept staring at the watch. Minutes were passing slower than a snail on sleeping pills. Grrrr... I tried calling my mom and passed some time. Ashu too called and made some minutes roll by. Since it was not 'allowed' to use phones before 0600 in the ward, I was not forthcoming in going on jabbering through the night. There was the 'baby symphony' too. One baby would wail leading to the waking up of the other sleeping ones and you had a pandemonium in your hands.

To make matters worse, sometimes I felt too hot. Then some hours later I was too cold. Some times my back went numb and I adjusted the inclination of the bed. At others it just did not work and I had to re-adjust it all over again. When you are destined not to sleep, everything goes wrong. Around 4 in the morning one of the nurses predicted - dont worry it will be day soon and she will sleep, thats how babies are. I was like finalllly. I can sleeeeeeeeeep. For I have this talent of being able to sleep anywhere anytime for any duration. Around 530 finally the little birdie drifted to sleep. Believe it or not I was wide awake. I was like WHAaaaattttttttt!!!!!!! Sleep where art thou? It was just toooooo unfair. Now just like I waited on sleep I had to wait for K and me being the over smart one had asked to 'take good rest and come araam se'. How I regretted those seven words :( 

Lest he heed my words when I least wanted him to, I made a call at 0700. Gingerly I asked 'when might you be coming'. He told he had just flopped and slept and would refresh and come ASAP. Now ASAP could mean anything. As soon as what was possible? There was a possibility of just brushing and dashing. There was also a possibility of making 5 phone calls and having a good nice cuppa coffee and a shower!! Yieksssss. I did not want to think of any other possibilities. An attendant came over and asked me to get my breakfast. Well.... what was I to do with the baby? Leave it?!!?? Are you allowed to? To answer my prayers, a nurse came over, and rolled over all the curtains. Finally all the women in the ward could see each other. She announced - let there be some fresh air (a la Let there be light :D ) And she literally ordered me, I will change the nappies you go grab your food. !!! Ok. Let me risk it. I took the shortest time possible to the canteen area and grabbed my plate and came over. I was just done with my cup of tea and K came over!!!!! Hallelujaaaaaaaaah.


Finally there was sunshine!

Pat a cake pat a cake baker's man

Bake me a cake as fast as you can.

No I am not learning this rhyme for Chiyaa. This is something that just came into my mind after my very first baking experience. 

Let me start from the beginning. I have always envied people who can bake.My mom makes the most amazing cakes and cookies, but I never ever gave her much bhaw except for licking the container in which she makes the dough. I loveeeeeeeeeee that raw batter :). I always wished I could bake or rather gather the courage to bake. K's manager's wife whetted my desire for the same. Shes mastered the art of baking. She can whip a cake or a batch of cookies in a jiffy. She encouraged me by saying, the only thing is gathering the ingredients. Else baking is sooooooooo easy. Sounds so promising. Then I have posts like this (Deeps) and this (Shalom) which make the option even more alluring. 

So I always toyed with the idea of baking - like one toys with the idea of joining a gym, a yoga class, buying salad vegetables or reading an autobiography. (Yes these are all ideas I toy with :D ) Baking had the added de-merit of - yes you guessed it - eating. (Oh you could'nt guess it?) Well.. K is not a cakes person. Neither am I unless I am in the confectionery section when I am literally like a bull in a china shop (errr.... just shopping ). But like Dr. Jekyll K does turn into a cake person when he enters Nando's.  The vegetarian in him turns into a proper tangdi chicken fan too. But we should nt bother too much with that. So where was I, K and cakes. Yes - he simply loves the chocolate cheese cake there. The cake looks stunning, tastes amazing. K forgets me, the baby, the world, his hair, and most of all, his bulging beer belly when he merely thinks about it. Anyday he would elope with the cake for a better life. 

Ok now that I have posted a pic of the ahem 'other'. I thought I would sneak the way into K's heart again through a - yes - cheesecake. But cake = bake which scares the living day lights out of yours truly. So I chanced upon this "No bake chocolate cheesecake". Cake and that too no bake - woo hoo. It was like puri kayanat conspiring to get me to make a cake. Still I took close to 3 weeks to summon the actual COURAGE to get the ingredients! I think I make this much effort to venture into a room with a lizard in it. So finally last  Saturday, I took 45 minutes browsing through the various aisles in the super market to get all the stuff for the would be delicious cheese cake.

Sunday evening was the good muhurat to start on the shubh karya. I enlisted the services of K as well. Now I do not have a blender, a mixer, a baking tray - no nothing. K broke the biscuits with bare brute force. I beat the cream cheese with the manual beater all the time thinking  - toned arms toned arms. And lo and behold I was able to beat it into the 'soft peaks' state. All preps done and the cake loaded, it was time to freeze it for an hour. After an hour, the chocolate seemed soft still so I thought well, let it freeze some more. In the meanwhile I took the opportunity to tell everyone - my mom, my friend in Blore, who ever I saw online on fb - I AM  BAKING A CAKE. Some more time ended up being over night (yes I forgot to take it out) I dreamt that the whole cheese cake was frozen and I kept it for thawing and ended up having something like a cheese cake rasmalai. I woke with a fright and took the cake from the freezer and put it in the fridge (the next step). I waited as much as my impatient self could allow me before nudging the knife into the heart of the cake.

The results are presented below.

The plate has only the chocolate part. The over night freezing did unmentionable things to the base so much that it parted ways with the top. In spite of my gorilla type efforts, I could not make them come together. Its chocolate cheese cake - no one mentioned the importance of the base. :( 

After repeated and persistent hammering I was able to make some portion of the base nudge out - and this what the wreckage looks like. 

Soooooooo after thisssssssssss utter disaster I intend to make microwave cookies next. Till then any ideas to salvage the cake? Else anyone game for some digestive biscuits with cheese and dark chocolate? :(