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This Boy !!

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He Changed my World,

And added meaning to it !!

He Painted my Scars,

And added Colours to it !!

He filled my Empty Heart,

And added loads of Memories to it !!

He robbed off every Tear,

And made Rainbows out of it!!

He wiped away all the Dark Nights

And added Uncountable Twinkle Stars to it !!

He laughed away every Fear of Future,

And filled it with Bright Promises for tomorrow!!

He chased away the heartache of the past,

And filled it with his Baby Cuddles!!

He made sure my life was never the same,

And added Sugar & Spice to it!!

He overturned my Fortunes,

And added Priceless Little Moments to it !!

He kissed my Invisible Wounds

And made Treasures out of it!!

He bought home tiny Rainbows, little hugs, lovable cries and soulful laughter. And my life was never the same.

Pris,

A Little Boy’s Amma.

 

 

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Baby Ved ~ Like A Girl !!

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I’m just keeping you aware, that when you visit our home, high chances you might catch a glimpse of Baby Ved cooking his Mom’s favourite dish or watching a Cookery Show.

At that moment, please don’t frown, “OMG Baby Ved, Like a Girl???”

Because I am going to teach him that, when it comes to household chores, there are no gender specific roles.

I admit, I am a very poor cook myself. But Baby Ved is not going to get away with that.

He is going to learn to cook, not just cook but do everything related to cooking.

No. It’s not a girl’s job. To cook is hers and to eat is his, is a ridiculous theory.

He can cook and she can eat. That’s fine.

Cooking, will be my first step in grooming Baby Ved as an Independent Child.

He will cook, Not like a girl, But LIKE A BOSS !!

Also, Wanted to add that, during your visit, you might be taken by surprise seeing Baby Ved sweep and clean the house.

Because his mom has told him that cleanliness is not gender specific. It’s not a choice.

Being a Boy, he has to be more cautious.

I bet, he can do all the household chores , not like a girl, but LIKE A BOSS !!

Please help yourself not rolling your eyes, when you spot Baby Ved suggesting his grandmoms on the latest shopping destination.

For Baby Ved loves shopping. For the moment he loves shopping, so that he can pull the dresses down while sitting comfortably in his baby sling.

Being fashionable and a shopaholic is not a girl thing. Whoever has told you so was just fooling you.

Being able to look your best and striving towards it is a form of creativity.

So yea, Baby Ved will shop with you, not like a girl, BUT LIKE A BOSS !!

I’m raising my little boy to be independent not just to help himself but to save the trouble for everyone around him. An independent boy/Man is a pleasure to be around with.

Who knows, tomorrow he might end up with your daughter and you can thank me at that time 🙂 Seriously !!

For worse, society has filled our minds with gender specific roles and to do otherwise, you will be criticised as “like a girl” or “like a boy”.

If God blesses me with a Girl, I would like to teach her to ride a Bike, Climb Mountains and break every negativity or stereotyping. She can do anything she wants to and not sit and burn in the Kitchen.

Next generation is going to turn the tables for Good. Time to positively enforce your dreams of freedom on your little ones to help them live life to fullest and not be a prisoner of dreams.

It’s going to be a sight to watch.

Not like a Girl, Not Like a Boy, But LIKE A BOSS !!

Pris,

A little Boy’s Amma.

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Kindly spare saying the below ‘7 things’ to Baby Ved – Thank You:

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1)Of how Handsome or Cute he looks:

The other day, I read an eye-opening article , that children who are complimented based on their looks, grow up to have personality disorders.

Alternatively, please tell Baby Ved that, he is;

  • A kind boy.
  • A Soft Boy
  • A Loving boy
  • A helpful boy
  • An obedient boy.

Do add anything to the list to construct his character in a positive way.

2) Are you Dada’s Boy or Momma’s Man:

This is one of the ridiculous questions I have encountered all my life. I have always chose either of the two and immediately wanted to rewrite the answer. I would wonder if the other parent loved me any less.

This confuses the child as to who loves him the most or wait, something like whom he loves the most. For sure you are sowing seeds of doubt in his little brain.

He is ours and we are his!!

3) Mathematics Score:

I would forgive anyone and everyone, but not this culprit. Trust me, I have (as a child) refused to visit some relatives just because they scared the hell out of me by popping this question. They asked for Numbers. Please ask my son about Disney Shoes and Cars and Bikes but no ‘numbers’ please.

Even if he does not look like mommy, he for sure hates numbers like her. I think so 😛

4) What is your ambition in life:

This would definitely top the list of ‘insensible’ questions to children. When I was a child, I would take a couple of seconds to respond to this question and immediately some family member would do the honours for me and declare “she, Priscilla, wants to become a doctor”. Honestly my ambition was to marry a Chocolate Factory owner and eat chocolates every day. I’m not sure if I really knew the spelling of a doctor, but I for sure made them smile. They that heard my ambition. Not sure if they smiled because they were proud or smiled, cunningly.

BabyVed is a child. He does not have great ambitions. For the moment his ambition is to pull down the trays in the Kitchen, and sit with a pile of Onions and Potatoes all around him. Trust me; he is working hard towards it.

Let’s not spoil their creativity. Let’s not force them to live our dreams. Let them dream for themselves. Let’s not draw boundaries. And clip their wings. Let them fly and explore as much as they wish and reinvent themselves.

5) Comparing ‘HIM’:

This is a BIG ‘No’ for me. He is unique. That’s what I tell him every day. I really don’t care if your Grandchild, took 8 steps at 8 months and you find BabyVed still lazying around and crawling. That’s fine with me. As I told you he is Unique. For that matter every baby is. He is himself. He is not faking his milestones. I would any day welcome your positive criticism, to his flaws but not your discouraging comments please.

6) What he owns – ‘materialistic’ –

BabyVed is a ‘Single’ Child (as of now). But that does not mean we have taught him, ‘his’ toys, ‘his’ food or ‘his dress’. You can walk into our house any day and take any of these, except ‘His laughter’ and him.

I would appreciate if you can refrain from asking him, “is this your house” or “this this your own house” and anything that points to materialistic possession.

7) Your parents are working so hard, so better be good:

Our parents were extremely hardworking. They never told us. We found out as we grew. Same way, we don’t want Baby Ved to know what we are doing for him. He did not choose us. We chose him. We needed him, we longed for him. We could have lost him to any home or parent. But he was meant for us. Meant to shine in our lives. We prayed that, we hold and hug him every day.

So it is our responsibility to provide for him. By all means. Till my last breath, I want to keep working hard for him. It’s my duty as a parent and if we keep telling him this, then am not his momma and he is not my little boy anymore.

While I totally understand that we need to gel as a society to raise better individuals, I would like to emphasise that it should only be in a positive way.

Society can kill and inspire dreams. Our Next generation needs inspirations; they need to look up to us every time they stumble, not run away from us.

Raising baby Ved as a wonderful gentleman is my responsibility, but of course I could use a little help from every one of you.

Pris,

A little boy’s amma.

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‘Those’ 37 Weeks:

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The Ignorant 1st 4 weeks:

Never had the faintest idea that I was going to be a Mother. Life was business as usual. Random thoughts like “What if this is the month” to weird thoughts like “No way”. I kept brushing off the Angel voice that kept whispering “Good News on the way”. I eventually found out that I was 4 weeks through and took some time to sit down and let the feeling to sink in “yes I am actually pregnant” and did not understand how far I was.

The Indecisive 5+ weeks:

With positive tests and a lot of blood work, I started the journey of “Road Less Travelled”. More blood work and uncontrollable excitement marked my days and anxious nights. Cautiously walking, eating slowly so that not even a crumb of bread hurts the tiny one in my tummy. It sure was an exhausting experience for a first timer.

Almost felt light like I always felt, sceptic dreams gave me chills, fearing the worse, what if all this was just an illusion.

The non-existent 8 – 20 weeks:

As I was excited to go through the procedures to hear the Heartbeat of my co-occupant on a set date, I was informed of another heartbeat that stopped. I was told that my Dad breathed his last as I went through the crucial ‘make or break’ week of pregnancy. My world blacked out at that very same moment I knew my little one had a heartbeat and a rhythm to it. I wanted to be unaware of what happened around me.

For a thousand moments I wanted to give-up. Because that will help me to cry out loud the least. But this bothering little thing inside my tummy, did not even give me the freedom to do my basic right. I was angry. I was frustrated. But least did I know that my very reason to breathe another second and live another day was this little ball like foetus. I would time and again, gently lean over and say “Baby, please hang on and don’t give up like Granpa”. That incident bought down my human existence and pride to nothing. Life and death not in my hands. Here I am holding my dad’s mere lifeless body in my arms and same time I have a little life developing inside of me. I am not sure, if I should be proud of this moment, of my strength to endure this moment. Here I am welcoming a new life and bidding adieu to another. When I look back I am so thankful to God for creating me a woman to experience this.

Though I wouldn’t have wished a slow and painful death to dad or to anyone, the least a daughter can ask is a ‘good-bye’ and not a humiliating disappearance. I froze, time froze, days froze, dreams froze, my future froze, I crashed into the moment and held on to the little hero in my tummy as I travelled back to my in-laws place all alone to resume back, what people called ‘normal’ life.

20+ weeks:

Heartbeat – check; Nausea – check; stupidity – check, more nausea – check, heartburn – check, sleepless days and nights – check; swollen feet – check; growing tummy – check; Somersaults -check . But every nausea and vomiting and hospital admissions for Hyperemesis was a sign that I was carrying a Hyper- active bundle of Joy. No regrets whatsoever. Worth every little discomfort.

25+ weeks I regained some sense and lost a little with Bed rest:

Baby V had always kept me on my toes, not just running for nausea, but frantic hospital trips for ‘Slow movement’ to ‘no movement’ & counting kicks per hour, days just flew by. Confined in bed, I never felt alone. Moments I wanted to give up, nights I sat up & sobbed, my tiny unformed baby would gently nudge me inspiring in ways I cannot imagine. It was like, “mom I am there”. I dared not give-up and that marked the beginning of my maternity leave.

The reassuring 30+ weeks:

Anytime, anyhow, I was prepared for labour for I knew from now on I will carry my baby to birth. Yes you read it right. I admit that I had my own fears about it. Oh every momma has it. For I know as premature as he may look, we can save him. Yes again you read it right. I had a strong feeling it was going to be a baby boy. A Happy Christmas weekend it was with the people I loved the most. Every second anxiously waiting for the so called ‘labour pain’ or the much hyped about “false labour pain”. None came. I still walked around with a tummy full of baby 🙂

The 37th week – I knew it was today or tomorrow:

For I know the most memorable and the day I will cherish forever will be this week. Not because I am a fortune teller but my gyneac told me so. It was a planned delivery. The day came as fancy as it can be 15.1.15 and out came baby Ved, crying with a heavenly tone which I was sadistically happy about and wanted to hear it over and over. He looked like my dad. He looked like my future.

I admired him, I adored him for countless milliseconds before he was gently tucked away.

My dad was right, he dint lie, when he promised me, that he will be there with me forever and ever. Yesterday as a dad, for today and forever as my Son.

Dreams, dreams and nothing but dreams:

Dreams of how beautiful my baby would look. The long locks of baby hair he would have. I imagined and painted infinite pictures of my baby. Of how tall he will look like my granpa, and those funny ears like his dad. All said and done, I negotiated with God big time for baby V to have the same Angelic smile my dad had. I dreamt on setting no limit for myself.

But the moment I saw baby Ved for the very first time, I was hit hard and filled with shame for all my dreams and the below quote aptly defines it,

“God’s Blessing will put you Best Dreams to Shame”

Truly Ashamed.

Baby Ved looked nothing of what I Imagined, but everything of God wanted him to be.

Fashioned by the Master’s loving hands.

 

 

A word of Thanks to people who don’t expect it:

To my docs, to the kind hospital support staff, to my best friend Mr K, to that colleague who let me take that window seat, who gave me way and offered to carry my laptop bag, My managers, to that kind bus driver who waited till I crossed the road and the warm smiles the strangers gave me when they saw me struggling with a big tummy. For everyone who prayed for me, encouraged me, my friends who kept me sane, My brother my greatest pillar of strength and finally my family and extended family for pitching in and providing that amazing support. And yea this note would be incomplete without mention of Baby V’s Daddy Cool who chose to keep quiet during my anxious moments. Trust me it helped a lot. He is one amazing personality who can make a lot of difference by just sitting around and not saying a word. Amazing presence.

2 important lessons I learned during pregnancy:

  1. The world is full of kind people. Just that they take time to reveal it. They reveal it when they see a pregnant woman. A sign that they acknowledge the tiny human and keep that mother in the highest respect possible.
  2. And if God has brought you to it, He will definitely take you through it. A very encouraging act by Almighty himself to keep you and your dreams as his highest priority. He chose to take my dad, and gave me my son and reminded me, when he closes one door he will definitely open another. Moments like I knew for sure that it’s not me but Jesus carrying Baby V in his arms, are encouraging me even today. He is for sure a Miracle Working God.

Through many dangers, toils and snares we have already come, this Grace that’s bought us safe thus far and Grace will lead us home.

Pris,

A little boy’s amma.

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On that Day, That Moment ~

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My Precious little Boy, you may have conquered the universe with your Charm, but on that day, that moment I want you by my side !!

My Precious little Boy, you may be seated among the rulers of the world and making important decisions, but on that day, that moment I want you by my side !!

Or you may be riding across the lengths and breadths of the world and realizing your passion, but on that day, that moment I want you by my side !!

As time flies, you might be enjoying a day off with your kids, reliving your Childhood and carving memories, but on that day, that moment I want you by my side !!

And yea you are far away from me, making a beautiful living with your Lovely Wife, but on that day, that moment I want you by my side !!

Yes, That Day, When people call it my last day, that Moment when I try and breathe heavily one lastime, all I want is, Son, you. You by my side.

I want to feel you face and touch your body with my feeble hands. the once fragile, helpless human, who dint know anyone else other than me.

I want to place you on my lap and kiss your forehead and you cuddle back into the foetal position and fit into my arms and I sing your favourite “Yankee Doodle went to town riding on a pony”. And we freeze time.

As I do that, my heart will swell with pride at the wonderful gentleman I gave birth to.

As I prepare to close my eyes forever, I want to touch your feet with my trembling hands, the tiny happy feet I kissed everyday during your growing years.

And as you hold me tight fighting a trillion tears, Son I will ask one thing of you, please don’t grieve much after am gone.

Celebrate your life, celebrate your mom and each time you think of me, plant a kiss on your daughter’s face and I will be able to feel it.

Be assured that the remaining days of your life, I will be looking upon you from Heaven, just as my dad did.

And finally, the last memory that my eyes would love to capture will be your Glowing, Expressive and Innocent eyes. The first thing I saw the day you were born. And from that day you became my reason to live and love.

And I will whisper gently, “Vedappa, Amma Chellam, God Bless You” !!

For I’ve not gone anywhere, but live, as a melody, as a gentle breeze that brushes your face, as a flashing memory, as a sweet smell, as a refreshing rain, in your daughter’s laughter and son’s character and yes as your momma forever and ever shining like a star over your head 🙂

Pris,

A little boy’s amma.

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What do I dedicate to thee, Dear Appa ?!

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“Margarita Mamun dedicating her Olympic Gold to her Father who died just days after her Glory” was one of the best videos I saw today.

The emotions of Ms Mamun warmed my heart. It felt good. Her dad in heaven sure must have rejoiced.

I can never complain that I did not have enough time to dedicate a glory to my father.

I spent full 30 years with him, enough time to make him feel proud of me a hundred times. But I never did. He never complained. But I never did. But again he never expected.

I never studied well, to dedicate Scholarships to my Appa.

I never fared in Sports to dedicate Gold Medals to my Appa.

I never ever did anything that would bring him any glory.

For all that I did to him, he graced me with such love and faith , that will shame me to my grave. Yes, that’s the word. He gave me the greatest gift a Dad could ever give. He believed in me.

He loved me so much, that even after his passing away, I live only for his love.

His love is interwoven in my nerves, in the core of my heart. Such extraordinary love for a commoner like me. I was a commoner in my eyes, but for Appa I was his world.

If not for my Father. If not for that love and faith that did not expect any dedications or honours or the least a mention of his Child’s greatness, I would have been nothing today.

But I will Appa, I will dedicate.

Dedicate, few moments of Kindness that you always inspired me to.

Dedicate few hours of Prayers of Thankfulness that you always practised.

Dedicate some forgiveness that you would love to see me do.

Dedicate a lifetime of humbleness that defined you.

For you were a Father who accumulated a lot of wealth for me. Wealth called Love,  simplicity and Education.

You took pride in a very simple disorganised little girl for her imperfections.

You picked up the broken pieces of your failed daughter and moulded her to be the woman she is today. You did not give a chance to look out for Inspiration. You were the Inspiration within me.

You looked through an Imperfect Soul and rejoiced in it instead of ridicule.

I was just a little Glorified Nothingness, that you adored.

Probably that’s all I needed to survive.

And that gave me a little more confidence to live and succeed.

Finally, I will dedicate my Motherhood to you. I will try and be the father like you.

And will leave footprints in Ved’s life, just as you did in mine, Footprints of love and grace.

We will make every small moment count in glory and dedicate our well spent life to you.

Pris,

A little Boy’s Amma.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Butterfly in my Soul !!

The Metamorphosis, the complex yet the most beautiful transformation from time unknown is not just fr the Beautiful Butterflies. 

No matter how ugly, no matter the storm, by the end of it all the caterpillar sheds every negativity and transforms into one of Gods biggest miracle, the Butterly. 

And that Butterfly in my soul, is my littlest guy in my world, my Ved. 

He just outsmarted me. In my struggle, in my nights, in my loss, he outsmarted me every second of my life. 

The days I thought it was all over, 

The 1st night I struggled to slept without a Father, 

The minutes I cried like a 5yr girl searching for his shoulder, 

I never knew there was a Butterfly brewing inside of me. 

Just when I the Caterprillar was about to give  up; I gave birth to a Butterfly. 

As I sat at my fathers coffin, as I was about to fail, a Butterful inside me was preparing to fly.

It was his Heartbeat. The first ever ‘Soul Stirring Musical’ I have heard. A reminder of a beautiful transformation I am about to witness. 

When words failed me, when the world failed around me, music gently whispered. His heartbeat whispered hope for a future full of laughter. 

Each night I would replay that Musical, and I loved to add a face to it. 

A face I imagined, made of a thousand Lillies, with the eyes of my Father. 

Sprinkled with his grace and dipped in his mercy, I visioned his baby face.

The face I would like to be the final memory of my life, the face I want to see and keep seeing until I call it quits. 

Today, after all those 9 months of lessons and trials and transformations, here lies the most Beautiful Butterfly in my lap, with every second reminding me, if not for the pain, there would never be a miracle. 

His eyes, a reminder of all the dreams of our future together. 

His wings of joy, are the confidence for me to fly high. 

His colors of beauty, paints my world so bright. 

His smile that helped me heal inside out. 

And I believe for each of us there is a transformation waiting. For some it happens at a funeral service, for others in the labor room, for few on the graduation day and others at the altar. 

Quiet a few amoung us are like the Butterfly literally, they can’t see their own beauty and grace while everyone else is in awe of their beauty. 

Just Like the butterflies, we don’t count months, we treasure only moments, every moment is a memory. Precious unperishable memory. 

Has anyone in History ever witnessed a Butterfly crawling back to his cocoon?

Neither did we and never will we. 

The journey just got a bit more brighter, prettier, colorful and wonderful just like the little baby Butterfly in my soul. 

Pris, 

a little boy’s amma.