Of shoe addicts

She walked into the big bright store,

All wide eyed and all of four.

She looked around and then

dragged me

to the brightest section she could see.

An array of colors,

And silver and gold

Shiny and strappy

heels and flats.

” I want”  she said to the salesman

Who grinned at me and then told her

“You have baby feet. You need tiny shoes”

She looked at her feet and then picked out one blingy pair of heels.

“I want”, she said. Looking at me with big eyes.

And then she turned to the shoes

and said- “I want them all. So pleetty!”

Kids section first floor , ma’am.

The salesman said.

I took her there and she asked

” Can I have them all?”

And picked out a blingy pair of shoes, a size too big

“I want shoes, mamma. I don’t want the doll.”

They didn’t have it in her size. We bought in any way.

I couldn’t believe she changed her mind

and wanted shoes as a gift for her birthday

She wore a year later

when she turned five.

It finally fit.  Those golden blingy shoes.

tiny shoes

For every occasion since, we’ve bought the shoes first and then a dress to go with that. As we walked out of the store that day, she grinned at me – “I cant wait to glow (grow) big and wear all those shoes. ” Well, that’s been added to the every growing list of growing up goals- become a story teller, wear lots of shoes,  buy a Harley at 18 go to Disneyland, and go  “under the sea” to see Australia’s great barrier reef… etc.

My little girl has her priorities right.


Writing as a part of team Blue Lagoon on the prompt  Tiny Shoes.










Games of the Imagination

Motherhood is awesome, frustrating, hard, crazy , fulfilling and can drive you round the bend. But, one of the things I love about motherhood is hearing  the kids come up with wild stories and  made up games.

Forts are created and destroyed by aliens.

Barbie is the scientist who does many experiments.

Yum Yum restaurant serves exotic vegetarian stuff including vegetables that aliens bring from different galaxies.

M&Ms are super power pills. Hershey’s kisses are  “do homework” convince-rs.

Songs are belted out with made up lyrics especially on a Sunday when they wake up bright and early and the rest of the world is trying to grab a few extra hours of sleep.

Accents are imitated.

“Tattoos” of wild scribbles are drawn on arms and legs. Of course the wild scribbling has a story behind it always.

Walls are canvases of art work.

Papa is the prime candidate for guinea pig while putting kiddy nail polish, four pony tails and girly hats.

We are regularly fed healthy TASTY pretend food and junk food that is magic. It will not harm the body.

Cars come alive and have conversations.

My daughter has superpowers like Elsa from frozen. But she can also bring back spring and summer when she feels like it. It rains especially hard when she doesn’t want to go to school.

Pillow forts are built for reading… And my son pretends to be the cat in the hat to make my daughter laugh. Or he chases her around pretending to be a T-Rex.

Skyscrapers are  built and torn down to plant imaginary trees to make mother earth happy.

My husband and I end up being the pigs in a live angry birds game while they throw angry birds soft toys at our heads while we have to do the sound effects.

Jenga is used to build recycled skyscrapers.

Big fights dissolve into random games and big tears dry up into sunny smiles as funny stories are told.

When one whines about something being boring.. the other says  “Bore the bore.”

This was from this morning. Angry Kung Fu Pandas. It was an hour of sound effects, story telling and action.




The last half hour before they sleep, they spend talking to each other , telling the other about their day, made up stories, big discussions about what all they want to do during their holidays, about their friends, and his current fave topic- football. Couple of weeks back, my son tells my daughter that he loves being seven. When she asks why, he tells her “Because I can be a different person everyday.”

He planned to be THE HULK the next day.

Aaah! the absolute simple joys of childhood! 🙂

The Masterchef Effect

So the kids are down with cough and cold and didn’t go to school today.  Of course they were going nuts at home… and conversations were peppered every two seconds with- “I want to do something else, mamma.”

Finally, I put them in their room and asked them to come up with their own games.- get creative, do what you want.. play a pretend game

Five minutes later, Mishti’s Kitchen with its little stove and sink and stands was assembled and the kids came to tell me their game.

They were playing restaurant!!!!

Both were chefs!!

The entree ( or as my son put it: that thing you eat first)- Fench Fies or something with aaloo that mamma likes

The main course: Fied ice, paata from Mishti and Fat rotis ( my son’s version of tandoori) and corn subzi

Dessert: Pumpkin Halwa was initially suggested but one look at mamma’s face they immediately changed it to chockate cake and carrot halwa.

Ten minutes later, big fight erupts. I ran to check what was happening. They were fighting over who was supposed to do the dishes since both were chefs.  I explained that even in the biggest restaurants chefs sometimes wash their own dishes. So they did.

Five minutes later another bout of screaming happened

“So what now?” I ask

Sonu says, “I washed all these dishes and now Mishti’s putting them back into the sink.”

to which Mishti shrugs and says, “Bhaiya not clean popely. I do it”

SIGH!!!!! What happened to the ‘pretend’ part of it?

And I’m back… yes.. AGAIN!! :D

So the Crabby Mommy left a comment on the blog and which reminded me that I have a blog and I haven’t written in a long while.

I’m been  on a decluttering binge ( not that my husband would agree!). So yesterday I decided to delete a load of nonsense forwards from my inbox when I came across this- Mishti’s first birthday invite that I wrote when I was feeling all super emotional that my baby was turning one!!!!

Today, we celebrate.

A year.

Of incredible joy.

Of Accomplishments.

Of moments we doubted our sanity.

Of Moments of absolute pleasure.

Of Survival -of sleepless nights, insanity, dirty diapers,  teething and then biting 

Of wide eyed wonder when one child talked and another crawled

Of elation -a second time – on hearing the words ‘Amma’ and Pappa’ from a baby

Of one where we learnt the real meaning of the word balance

Of watching changing eye color,

Of ‘heart bursting with emotion’ moments- when a little boy was protective of his sister, when he was a lil insecure, when he was super affectionate and when he turned around and told his mother – Mishti sundar hain

Of  learning what a tantrum thrown by a two year old really was like

Of seeing one child off to school and another stand up…

Of all the heartaches that only a parent would ever experience.

Of immense gratitude for the mischievous souls we were blessed with

Of learnings- we had to go back to the drawing board where parenting was concerned

Of discoveries: the length of our tempers, the breadth of our patience and the depth of our love


We celebrate a year of being parents to two absolutely awesome kids. 


Our baby girl turns one on Wednesday.


Today we celebrate

our family.

Next month my baby girl turns three.  Time goes by… too fast…

Learning to play with a two year old

My two year old has started talking nineteen to a dozen – mostly in English. She’s also at this stage where she demarcates her wordly possessions and toys and is still learning to share. Off late we’ve realized that its become impossible to play ball with her. She’ll give you a sweet smile and ask you to pass it.. before she runs away with it-screaming- SSSSMMIIIINNEEE!! I NO Give!!!!