shh.

Yesterday k got back home right after work instead of heading for his own steam blowing workout session, in no small measure thanks to a phone call in which I must have sounded at the end of my wits as I juggled a very hyper 16month old who wanted to go out to play, a 6 year old I throes of a craft phase (but we must make 10 glittery ice cream bars for my shop) and a 9 year with science and Urdu test revision in play. Might I mention here that no matter how much hired help you have, there are days when everyone just congregates to that one foot of space around you, constantly. Khair, back to my story. It was 6:30 which meant the days tolls had taken place on all of us and the monstrous avatars  we try to keep firmly chained during the day were biting at the bit.

He arrived took stock and took over one and half kids while I quickly propelled the day forward to our favourite point on such days- bedtime. (Can you hear, nay practically FEEL my sigh of bliss down to your toes?)

Once the kids were out, there was complete silence and after the cacophony of three varying agendas being demanded at once, let me tell you it sort of feel like suddenly being submerged into water, where there is an extreme sense of awareness but also a gratifying lull in the pace of time. K and I then went around the room putting stuff away, minimal words really. No chatter on how the day was, no hug, no interaction nothing. We had our dinner also in the same way, padded in the cottony silence and then finished our episode of Good Wife. There was the next day to plan, work emails to be sent and while usually chatty, talking about the day, yesterday I was depleted. All I wanted was quiet. To somehow redeem myself from the Jekyll like persona that had gripped me in that last hour, I needed to literally mute.

While the numbers were equal I never really realised the immense draw of “emotional crutching” that is required from the person who is (merely by the chance of being more available) a primary caregiver. We are the police, the doctors, the huggers, the fixers, the bad cops, the managers, chefs, waiters, the CEOs- basically several hundred worth of job titles rolled into that one mama. It’s a sensory overload of feelings and beings on some days- to the point that all you really crave is a cool dark cave, with good wifi of course.

I didn’t say anything to k last night, and while maybe it was the general vibe of heaving sighess around me that was the give away, he was smart enough to keep his distance and throw the coffee and cheesecake at me. Good man.

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going for the gold.

God knows there are enough articles out there to make any parent practicing in the know that competitiveness in the extreme form is wrong. That somewhere along the next two decades of your child developing into an adult it will have some form of negative impact, either emotionally or security wise which will probably result in the said kid either breaking down or turning into an ass of an adult, one who has no empathy or compassion. Ok ok I exaggerate and on the heels of what was an exciting Olympics, filled with emotional soul raising moments, I have to admit I also have been swept away by the excellence and high that can be found in watching your human beings sport (and excel at it).

My lifeline whatsapp group and I have had this conversation a few times- about what is lacking in us that makes us pushy and aggressive as mothers wanting their kids to be just brilliant at something. We all agree that our parents didn’t really push us. That they let us choose and decide and just generally be good at what we were at. They were not hard core and perhaps as a result we are not. That is not to say, that we haven’t found our niches of excellence and sculpted good lives for ourselves, but we acknowledge and accept that the “push” was lacking. And of course the conversation then moves onto whether in the times of today, that push has become almost a necessity in order to give kids (and their eventual adult selves) a lifeline in case other things don’t go their way.

Nadi loves swimming and while it started out all water fun and recreational, he suddenly developed an edge in it. And that edge led us to the club heats yesterday. I will be lying if I don’t admit the butterflies that assaulted my heart as we walked into the Gala, flags flying, music playing, the smell of chlorine and the chatter of excited children commingled with instructions from parents. “Whatever you do, DO NOT LOOK BACK” one mom assertively told her 7 year old. “JUST FOCUS ON SPEEDING THROUGH” told another one wisely. A tiny bit awed, I turned to Nadi, and out of my mouth comes ” You sure you want to do this?” He looked at me weirdly and says, “Yes of course, why?” And in a spurt of good parenting I say, “Well I don’t want you to feel pressured in case you know, you don’t make it to the final race.” He looked at me weirdly again and said.”Yes mama but that’s what the heats are for- to decide na?”

Thing is we underestimate and over complicate things for our children so much every step of the way, out of love and protection of them. He was doing something he loved, and whatever extra that came with it was just the cherry. For my little fish, the fact that he would get to swim was kind of the point, and meeting and doing it with friends the other bonus. It wasn’t him who needed to understand that, it was me.

The races began and no matter how much you tell yourself that it’s all in the name of good healthy competition, by the time his race came around, I just wanted him to win dammit. Until the second he took that dive and hit the water. And then the joy of watching someone you love do something they love took over in an instant. There are no words. There are slightly damp eyes though.

We made it to team reserve. And though there is a high chance we won’t get to swim in the actual race today, the beaming wet face, stuffing itself with the fries and Oreo shake, the shiny happy eyes and the slightly more confident stance for having done something he loves was my gold for today.

 

lovely illustration by Davide Bonazzi taken from Pinterest

 

Monster me 

I absolutely hate yelling at the kids. Or needing to talk to them in a tone where there is no room for discussion or leeway. Ideally we would have a relationship where I would require something and if they aren’t able to fulfil that they would negotiate other reasonable terms with me. Is that too much to ask? Don’t answer that.

So of course I often find myself in that place where I have to be communicating my thoughts not only sternly but in a tone that’s several octaves higher than what makes me feel human. And sometimes in the middle of that yell-fest, I will teleport above my screamy self and watch hovering above the scene, how horrid and crazy I actually can look while trying to get something or the other across to these kids that I love with all my  all. It’s stunning the irony that these very people who I would literally jump in front of a moving bus for are the ones that manage to evoke this face contorting exasperation and fury.
One of my standing annual resolutions has always been to be a zen-ner parent. The one who will get the message across in modulated lyrical tones rather than angsty high pitched ones. For most part I think there has been tremendous improvement and then suddenly a day appears where my carefully constructed and managed Jenga tower of emotions and control will come crashing down and I am back at square one, painstakingly collecting blocks to start over.

Does it damage my kids forever? I sincerely hope not. I tend to be somehwat humourous when angry and my examples and comparisons always elicit some giggles along with the fear and sulk from them. I am hoping in the long run my crazy love otherwise for them will cancel it the negatives and they will walk on forth with just the positives. Fingers crossed. And oh yes, resolution renewed for the new academic year yet again.

when the cat stays at home

Six months ago yesterday, on November 30, after a series of some unfortunate events and people, K left his last job under not the most ideal of circumstances and not the way he would have liked.

It was literally on his birthday that the decision was expedited (yes timing was sucky), semi unexpected (you can always sense doom can’t you?) and then in equal parts both thrilling, a massive relief and scary. Thrilling because December was coming up, friends and family returning for the inter holidays and it meant he would be around (unless he got a new job immediately of course, but somehow at that point I wasn’t factoring that in). It was a massive relief because toxic environments are never any good, no matter how good you are at what you do. And scary because, well, three kids and only a part time working me and allll this upcoming time at home.

Now we aren’t the kind of couple who need their space too much and we are quite happy o toddle along with the kids doing our stuff together, and yes here I am talking about those brainless mall jaunts as well as the annoying grocery runs. He is fairly laid back and I am not so laid back but somehow we manage to make it all relatively painless for each other. Mostly. I hope. But here we were facing  yawning chasm of time- completely unplanned and also with no timeframe to the togetherness. It could be weeks or God forbid, years. What would we do with each other?

I could jazz it all up angsty wife style and talk in aggravated detail of the few days where we were literally on each other’s faces. Like wherever I turned he was there, and while when I am handing over the baby, it’s a great thing, when I want some alone time to work or spring clean (yes I spontaneously do that) or just lie and stare at the ceiling like a zombie, HE WAS THERE. Not really wanting anything, mind you but just around, standing or sitting or breathing. BEING THERE. Even being HELPFUL, sometimes. Most annoying and even more unrestful.

But mostly the last six months were quite fantastic and I wish it was part of adult and working life that you had to raise a baby together for the first year because it makes allll the difference to one’s sanity to have four hands. It isn’t only about the help (even though thats a huge part of it) it’s also about the time to have conversations when kids are in school, it’s about having him be a full time person in our lives, part of the muck of baths and lunch and lego emergencies and doll play and the chaos of that 4pm cabin fever, not one that is stuck at work and hearing about everything in past tense and coming home to clean and sleepy children.

I will not say that K didn’t worry. I think he would be inhuman to not, given we are all by products of a rather conventional culture where work is WORK. And mind you we got a lot of well meaning but mostly really daft advice on how he should take up ANYTHING that came his way. Even if it was a step down and even if it wasn’t anything he wanted to do. But I stood my ground. We were not going to settle. He would find and take up only what felt right. We were lucky. We had savings and freelance projects to see us through this “difficult” time. I use these beloved inverted commas here mainly because I feel like I am cheating when I focus on the apparent stress and tension being jobless has attached to it. Oh I admit very freely that panic can easily skirt at the edges of existence every day because if you let yourself go down the very steep path of what if, you can imagine alll sorts of scenarios. But I think I am a bit different that way. I know that things open up that we cannot even imagine if we are patient and right and kind and basically awesome. And I pretty much rail-roaded K into my way of thinking also. I believe and not just to say because I sound cool or calm, that what is our right, what we deserve is created by the kind of people we are, the kind of actions we perform on a daily basis.

Many things did come our way, some potential filled, others complete busts but on their own they would either fizzle out or fall through. We heard chatter on how he was over qualified, on how there are just no jobs for his position right now and all sorts of practical blah blah that people feel helps justify why something isn’t happening. My take was always it’s not happening because it isn’t meant to, yet. When it is, trust me, and I said this to him often enough to be labelled annoying, the opportunity will literally be created out of thin air and everything happen without us even trying. This has been the pattern I have most detected – to have faith in powers we cannot even begin to understand, and not give into the human induced panic that flutters into being when there is something we cannot control.

I really couldn’t bring myself to panic, given we were having a great time. The kids were thrilled after the initial shock of oh you’re still here and found it so easy to switch half their incessant need for chatter to him (oh yay). He was able to be a part of their lives in ways he had only heard of in fairytales before. I didn’t have a hard time thinking of it as a holiday sabbatical and yes, I know, it doesn’t happen to everyone.

So yes, it all played out at incredible speed in the last 10 days and he is back at work today, hopefully in a job he will love and thrive in, of course, but can we please have a moment of silence for all the times I was able to switch off in the last six months without worrying and another moment of silence for the extra 20 minutes of nap time I got very often. I will miss having them around. Err him, I mean of course.

my funny kids

7 February 2016 at 21:54 · Karachi ·

At the Karachi farmers market today.

Me: I need to find the limes.
Leila excitedly: they have them here?
Me: yes yes a lady had them. Help me look.

After two fruitless rounds and some lemonade and lassi later, we realize they were not there today so we decide to leave.

Leila: but we haven’t seen the lady with the lions yet!

 

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6 February 2016 at 10:54 · Karachi ·

While flipping through random TV yesterday with Nadi we saw “Next up: Mummy 3” flash on the screen.

Nadi: what’s that?
Me: Oh- a movie that was made ages ago.
Nadi: Must be a horror scary type.
Me: Not really. Waisay why do you say that?
Nadi: Wait is it about mummies like you or the bandage ones?
Me: Why?? What’s scarier?

Nadi in fits of giggles.

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9 January  2016 · Karachi ·

So this morning I tell Leila to let’s only try and talk in Urdu as a part of daily speaking practice. It’s going quite well but instead of the usual “mama” I am now Ammi.

‪#‎ammiisanurdumother‬‪#‎feelingaged‬

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25 November 2015 · Karachi ·

While waiting for the family to get back from the mosque and graveyard after the burial yesterday, Leila got a little impatient.

“Mama, exactly how long does it take to give Dada to Allah mIan?”

‪#‎family‬‪#‎love‬‪#‎lilystories‬

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27 October 2015 · Karachi ·

Leila: Mama you know how you always say that if you share you should do it nicely?
Me: Yes
Leila: Well today I did not share at all but very nicely. Is that ok too?

‪#‎raisingthewynes‬‪#‎nadililyzakstories‬

 

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12 October 2015 ·

We ran into two of Leila’s class boys after school today while picking up some groceries. While I chatted for a minute or two with the adults, the kids talked on their own.

Leila slightly upset in the car on the way back home: Mama the boys were being mean to me.
Me: Really? How? What did they say?
Leilas: Something REALLY mean.
Me: Tell me, what did they say?
Leila: I mean why would they even say that to someone?
Me: Baby, kya bola? Batao tau!
Leila: They said they KNOW my PASSWORD.

‪#‎wth‬ ‪#‎trippy5yearolds‬ ‪#‎idontgetthem‬ ‪#‎thisdaywaswaytoolong‬‪#‎newagekids‬

 

9 months later

Largely ignored in the wake of the third child, I have often thought of this blog as something I will get back to when I have time. I am not entirely sure that I am going to have time for luxurious amounts of back spacing and deleting kind of writings but I do want to continue putting down something- so I have something to look back to. Of course great swathes of life have already passed us by. But Zak is here and really, this little one deserves one post all to himself.

Every single time I see you after being away from you- whether its for 15 minutes of several hours, I am madly excited. I get swept away with how completely gorgeous that twinkle of happiness in your eye is. And it hits me like a force of wall, how completely lucky I am, and how utterly grateful I need to continue being.

You have favourites already. Your BFF is the bottle. Of any kind shape or size. you do not discriminate. You want it in your hands and you want it now. First thing we do when we wake up is scramble to hide out night time water bottles before you start leaping across the bed to grab at it. Your favourite book is Baby Loves to Rock and while we all know parts of it and can say it out at random moments to make you giggle, my favourite is when Lily sings it to you. You love peas, and avocado. And can have toast makkhan any time, just like your sister and mama. You are definitely a morning person and even the hint of an outing can make you start flapping your legs like a rider gearing up his horse.

While I have not had much experience in the tantrum department – both your siblings had minor episodes thankfully and outgrew them as fast, I sense you have it in you. I have sen you throw your head back dramatically on a number of occasions. Dramatic like you sister and stubborn like your brother. A treat, really. Can you hear me rolling me eyes here Zak?

Having you has been the best thing. You were born at the perfect time really. A week before school closed. There was this over riding sense of celebration in the air and it hasn’t dissipated. The summer that followed, having BV and Nanna all to ourselves for a few weeks for the best kind of bonding, snuggling to sleep with Bia, you have truly had the best of starts. Hope that kind of uncomplicated love and happiness follow you all your life.

Perhaps the biggest joy I get is when I see Nadi and Lily with you. Can a combination feel more right? In all my ruminations and dreams, this is not what I had imagined. Clearly His plans outshine all ours and I think what you being in our lives has done for the four of us, is something we will only realize long after the years have passed.

I love you.  Happy 9 months, my Zakookie with the beautiful head.

 

Because I will forget and I don’t want to.

Random conversation just now.
Nadi: Do you know you came out of Mama’s tummy?
Lily: NO I DIDN’T!!
Nadi: Yes you did. Ask mama.
Lily: Mama Nadir telling lies!!
Me: No it’s true you did. You grew in my tummy then the doctor took you out.
Lily (worriedly): But why did you eat me?

‪#‎becauseyouareyummy‬ ‪#‎nadilily‬ ‪#‎longsummerafternoons‬ ‪#‎summerhols‬

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Maleficent vs Lord Business playing out on my shoulder
(complete with sound effects) is just not conducive to any kind of concept and design work.

#workfromhomewhydontyou #summerhols #nadilily #play #freelancelove

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Way too early morning craft talk today.
Lily: mama will you make me a cutout with the strong glue?
Me: UHU?
Lily (confused and a tad but panicked): Mama it’s me Leila!!

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It was World Day parade today at her school and Leila was- wait for it- a “Pakistani”.
Some gems she has shared with us this week on being one are:
1. Pakistanis only eat chapati.
2. They wear red Kurtas.
3. Only boys are Pakistani. (so in the spirit of the parade, she was a boy today)
4. They talk in “sla-laikumm”
5. They sing the national anthem together when happy.
6. Pakistani’s cousins are from France

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Both kids have declared that it’s “cheating that the REAL heart looks nothing like the drawing heart” and that “it’s not even the right shade of red”.

#reality #nadilily #verylongafternoons #biologyfail

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Hey Leila- why do you want to be an astronaut when you grow up?
Because I want to.
Yes but why an astronaut?
How else will I see the stars Mama?

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true love, good vs evil and happily ever afters.

The sisters and I used to play a game. We “owned” things we liked. So if I was particularly fond of a cartoon or a film or a story, it belonged to me, which meant that any imaginative play that came out of that particular theme, was up to me to direct and run and I could get dibs on which character I wanted to be. The classification was based on a number of things- what appealed to us most, which story we most related to or sometimes simply even a favourite colour. So while growing up, in the princess love category, I was Sleeping Beauty (I cannot recall the reason why anymore), Middling was Snow White (for her gentle nature and affinity for animals) and Little Jam was Cinderella (evil stepsisters!) So I was excited to see what they have done to my Maleficent. Out of all the villainous beauties, she was definitely the one with the most presence and style and I was very curious to see how she had been “humanized”. I had heard a lot of mixed reviews on whether this was an appropriate movie for kids between 4 and 7 and after talking to a few people whose opinion I could trust, followed by a good sweep of the internet (while trying to dodge spoilers) I decided that I would take them and then remain vigilant throughout the movie in case I needed to distract them from some part. We loved it of course. I am blown away by how amazingly the idea of true love and evil and good is interwoven now to represent both powers, often in one character. It is so true to life now. There is no longer the simplicity of , black or white that we grew up with. More often than not, it is both that reside together, often in some locked battle to see what wins out. I can no longer answer the question that Lily asks, “Mama is she good or bad?” in simply one word. And for Nadi, who has long been fascinated by the villainous characters of all the stories he has encountered with the justification that they are simply “more interesting”, the idea of a good and bad battle raging within has unlocked a whole new level of questions and wonderings. With Nadi and Lily, the way I have done things is so different, so in depth in its analysis and infused with play that I am never quite certain what concept is being scrutinized at what point but I have learnt that I like them to be questioning. To be curious and chatty and asky. I like them to think that things are not and do not always have to be a way we previously knew them to be. That the idea of changing one’s mind or self is good> That a back story which explains things further makes us more human, better people and more able to “walk in other people’s shoes”, to quote a beloved Atticus. Perhaps it is soon to introduce that concept to them, I do wonder, given that I am making sense of it myself. But I can’t help loving how movies like Frozen and Maleficent have opened up the idea of true love, evil and good to further understanding, more introspection and more options, so we are able to redefine happily ever after and heroes and villains, allowing them a chance to be other than what they were always limited to being.

 

 

Maleficent was created by Marc F. Davis, who was one of the most wonderful animators of his time and one of Disney’s Nine Old Men for his knowledge and understanding of visual aesthetics, the famed core animators of Disney animated films. http://fyeahmarcdavis.tumblr.com/

a trio of illustrators I am seriously crushing on

1. Aoki Tetsuo‘s monochromatic people prints are simple and stunning. They make me think of times when we are surrounded by people but feel quite alone.

 

2. Gwenda Kaczor “whimsical yet moody” illustrations are gorgeous. I love details in work and since I find myself quite challenged in this free flowing feminine style, I am drawn to it even more. Her use of colour is soothing yet arresting. Her work always makes my day.

 

 

 

3. When I came upon Moscow-born Eduard Erlikh‘s work, it was love at first sight. Having always been fascinated by the control some magicians exert over watercolour, I am awed by the level of seemingly effortless detail in his work. I want to BE these illustrations.

Recap: Suddenly Seven

I used to do these recaps fairly often back in the early days of parenthood, excitedly logging in gurgles and sounds and quirks and likes and oddball bits of information with much love and clearly more time. Reading back it makes me glad I did because the memory is an odd thing, and while some things come into sharp focus as the years go by, so many little fun things melt into a warm blurry mess. And since Nadi’s seventh birthday just passed, what better time to put down for posterity some of those things that I want to one day embarrass him with?

Dear Nadooni,

Watching you with your friends is unreal. The relationships, the conversations, the self assured way you suddenly fall into a leader role, the nuttiness and especially the happy vibe you exude that draws your friends to you are all things I watch with fascination, especially since you were a shy little person not too long ago.

I love that you ask questions I have never even thought of, about things I haven’t noticed in detail.

We have had our battles, you and I, but we both know we are each other’s best champion, even in the middle of what you right now call a “daanto”. Isn’t that cool?

I know you love me but how you are with your dad is unreal. It’s like a force field of love and I can see it emanating from your eyes as you follow his every move to try and emulate his existence. From what he wears to a repeat of his phrases and his interests and habits. It is borderline creepy. Some days I get jealous. I have to admit. But mostly I am just mushy.

Everyday as soon as you come back from school, even before changing out of that filthy uniform, you must grab a paper from the printing tray, reach out for whatever pen is handy and start drawing. It is almost like the school day isn’t complete till your hands have sketched out something- expelled that leftover energy brought in from the playground. Once done is when you finally focus and get going on the usual routine.

You are quite impressed with the fact that post workouts my arms have become”tighter” and that I also sweat (like Abba, you said in starry eyed wonder) but then you grab my arm from underneath and tell me I need to work harder since it is still “quite squishy”.

When Lily says a longer, fancier word or sentence than what we are used to hearing, you will cock your eyebrow at me above her head with that barely contained grin you have and we will both share a moment of pride and excitement at how grown up and amazing she is.

You are a complete push over when it comes to her. From packing up her endless lines of animals to going to the other end of the house to fetch her Elsa’s shoes, you will grumble and huff but comply. You love annoying her as well. And when you think I am not looking, you will do something to bug her, which when I call you out upon, you will cheekily answer to with “But that’s what brothers are for!” I don’t quite know where you picked up that line but it makes me laugh.

You are a creature of habit where food is concerned. Just like me and your Nanna. You can have the same thing day and day out for years. Happily.

Your obsession with characters of a villainous nature is going strong. You find them interesting, studying their mannerisms and intentions to a point of exhaustion. Your villains of the hour right now are Hans who has reached delightful new lows in your eyes because he pretended to be good and Megamind whose dialogue “Remember, bad guys always lose” you have repeated ad nauseam to the point when both Lily and Leens are quoting is as a mantra.

One only needs to say the word “poop” for you to start giggling crazily. I don’t get it. I thought it was a boy thing till Lily and Leens also followed suit. Now I just think its mad.

I love watching you with Aanoo. It’s like your face physically morphs into this mushy looking, soft eyed pulp. You talk to her in this weird baby-like tone (which we all agree is quite scary but in a terribly endearing way) and she completely responds by always trying to touch your face. It’s oddly reminiscent of you with Lily when she was a baby. You are exactly the kind of big brother these 3 girls will use to their hearts content to get away with god-knows-what.

These days you (and Lily) love hearing stories of when me, Maii and Bia were small. You want details on what we did, where we lived and what our fights were about. I am really enjoying this as well, because it is jogging my memory on details I thought I had forgotten.

You can do all those daily little things on your own now. Eat your food. Take a bath. Style your hair. Tie your laces. Make your chocolate milk. Choose your clothes. And yet you still want me to be next to you every night just as you fall asleep. Thank God for that. It’s true what they say, that the days are so long but the years are so short. I love you so so very much my baby boy. Always be as you as you can be.

Love, Mama