My silence
speaks volumes
in the calls I don't make,
conversations I don't carry,
halfhearted smiles I smile.

My silence
speaks volumes
in what I don't say,
thoughts I don't express,
feelings I hide.

My silence
speaks volumes
in tears I don't shed
(but wish I could),
memories I don't dwell in,
regrets I don't hold.

My silence
is sometimes forgotten
and I laugh, smile and even talk.
But then I go back
to my silence
because
my silence
feels so comfortable around me.

Using my words

So I have had hundreds of ideas for a post but when I sit down to write, they all evaporate. I have been too busy to write them down somewhere to help my memory but I think it is more than just a memory issue. When I do get online, and I still remember what I wanted to write about, I still don't feel like doing it. There are a few reasons for that. I have realized that many of my earlier posts had kinda "holier than thou" elements to them. "I am awesome because I do things this way and you should too, then you will be awesome too". I have lost patience for those kind of posts - mine or from someone else. I don't feel like writing about my kids because, again, if I write about how awesome they are (they are, they are!) am I not just bragging about my parenting skills? My friends still love me - well the ones who keep in touch do. The ones who fell out of touch because they were counting how much I don't call them, never cared anyway. So what DO I write about? There are certain things that I feel about deeply, but then I have not mastered the art of baring my soul yet. It makes me feel too vulnerable. I feel like I have lost my words.

Well, one thing I CAN write about is - how much I have to be thankful for. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and, like we have been doing for the last 9 years, we have 4 friends and their families coming over for dinner. These friends love us enough to set aside an entire evening for us on a long weekend. Earlier this year J and I both lost our jobs within 2 months of each other. It was a stressful time. Before my notice period ended, an opening in the same company for the same position, but in a different business unit, came up. My soon-to-be-ex boss gave me high recommendation and I got the job. My commute increased from 24 miles a day to a whopping 160 miles a day! It helped that I loved my job and enjoyed it. Things have been hectic but I have gotten a satisfaction out of my job that not everyone does. I am thankful for that. I am thankful for friends who supported us during that tough time.

J & I have been married for 19 years this December (the 3rd, in case someone wants to wish us a happy anniversary :D). We have been through an inter-continental move, infertility, a failed pregnancy, 2 child-births, 2 depressions, 3 job losses, one recession, death of my father, and numerous other challenges. I have come to realize what kind of a support J is. He is my rock. He didn't leave me when even I would have left me if I had been in his place. I am thankful for him.

Our daughters are growing up into beautiful, confident, smart women. S will be off to college in a couple of years. Everyday she amazes me with her clarity of thought and maturity. I recently had the "sex and drugs" talk with her. Her response? "I have too much to lose if I can't get in college, so these things are not on my agenda" (I am paraphrasing but this is essentially what she said) She plays volleyball with a dedication that wants me to borrow from my retirement account to let her play on a travel team she got chosen to but cannot accept because we don't have the money. Last night, when I told her that we won't be able to do the travel team because of the expenses, she cried. She was heartbroken, and I was too. But absent were tantrums and accusations. Actually the absence of tantrums and accusations was what made it more heartbreaking. I am thankful for my precious daughter who is so mature and understanding but still has a resilient streak in her that makes me so proud of her. Keep your stubbornness honey. You'll need it. The world can be mean sometimes.

I am thankful for the ray of sunshine in our lives that we call M. It has been a blink of an eye and she is already 7. She loves to do what her didi likes to do. Plays violin and does Kumon with a dedication because, yes, didi does it too! She is an "excellent student but a bit chatty" in her teacher's words. Very helpful and kind. Last year, during a thunderstorm, she helped a scared friend by holding her through the storm and telling her not to be afraid. She is the only one in the family who keeps her room clean consistently :) She knows her mind and oh how she knows it! I love that in her. There is nothing you can make her do if she doesn't want to do it. Stay this way baby! And thank you for coming into our lives and enriching them beyond our imagination.

My mom! I am thankful for the fact that my mom spends her money and time to stay the summer with us every year. She is always a great help when she is here - I don't have to worry about meals and the house. I don't have to bear the guilt that my kids can't stay at home even during their summer break because I have to go to work. This year her help was extra appreciated with my long commute and increased traveling for work. I wouldn't have survived the summer without her and my aunt, who came to visit us with her. They both gave us all a memorable summer. I am thankful for both of them.

There are times when I get depressed thinking about things that are still not right for us. But then I remind myself about what I do have. I have so much to be thankful for! Here is my wish for you for the Holidays -

May the positives always outweigh the negatives in your life! Happy Holidays!

The year 2010

I feel a deep change in me this year. I am more at peace, more content, a lot more easy going than I was earlier. I don't know what brought this change. Maybe age (though I doubt it) - I did turn 40 this year. Or the online group of friends I have been hanging out with. They are a varied bunch and they have brought much laughter, sanity and clarity in my life and attitude. Maybe it was my daughters - I have learnt a lot from them. From S I learned perseverance and determination. From M I learnt to stay firm and not to be ashamed of having a mind of my own. Maybe it was J - he teaches me, by example, what devotion and responsibility is.

Whatever it is, it has made me a much happier person. J and I fight less, laugh more and get along better. I think I have become more tolerant. This year also, grudgingly, eased my pain of losing my father a bit. I still miss him but I cry for him less and laugh at his fond memories more. This year I have made a little bit more effort to reach out to my mom and brother and my friends as well.

All in all, this year has seen more ups than downs. I liked this year. It also helps that this year was a multiple of 10 which made my OCD self feel a little better :) 2011 better follow suit and turn out even better. But then, it will be what I make of it, right? So here is hoping that I make the best of 2011. And you do too. Happy New Year!!

A decision that I regret to this day

This is difficult to write about, but I think I must - for my own peace of mind. I need to get this load off my mind.

When my father passed away quite unexpectedly a little over two years ago, and I rushed to be by my mother 's side, a little thought loomed large in my mind. I wanted to be as much a part of my father's final rites as my brother would be. I wanted to go to the "shmashan", and not stay at home, like women are supposed to. I wanted to do what girls in our society are not allowed to, normally. I wanted to do at least that much for my dad. I knew I would face comments and resistance from outsiders but I was determined not to pay attention to them. I was determined I will be a part of my father's last rites.

People would have stopped me - but I don't care about them anyway. Their words wouldn't have mattered. My brother didn't mind. His wife, whom I came to love with all my heart during those days, encouraged me and promised me she would defend my right to do so if I wanted to do it. I don't know how my mother would have reacted, because I never asked her. I have a suspicion that my father might have frowned upon it because he was like that - he worried about "society" sometimes. Other family members might have tried to dissuade me from going, but they didn't matter. The only ones who mattered were my brother, his wife and my mother.

When the time came for the funeral procession to proceed, I copped out.

First I said I wanted to be by my mother's side for support. I really did mean it. My brother's wife said she would stay with my mom so I can go. Then I said I didn't want to go because I wouldn't be able to stand seeing my dad going up in flames. Somewhere in my heart, I also dreaded the confrontation that would ensue with all assorted friends and family telling me not to go. They were already trying to dictate what I should or shouldn't do. I was told not to touch anything in the kitchen because I "didn't belong to this family anymore". I was told not to touch the diya that would be lighted in front of my dad's picture in the evening. My sister-in-law stood fast by me and stubbornly had me do everything that I was told not to do. Her point? "No one can ever say that you are not a part of this family. You are as much a part of this family now as you were before you got married". It was then that I truly fell in love with that girl. But that is another post.

Where was I? Ah! Confrontation. Don't get me wrong - I didn't mind the confrontation. I just didn't want to create any more grief for my mother. I was afraid the confrontation would hurt her if she thought I was disrespecting my dad's wishes. My brother and his wife respected my wishes and didn't force me one way or another after that. These days I often wonder if I stayed back because I had a valid reason or because was a chicken. I can't decide. One regret that I do have is that I could have gone with my brother and been a support for him, and I lost that chance. He'd had a knee surgery just days before and could hardly walk, leave alone climb any stairs, which I believe he had to do that day. Our cousins went with him so he wasn't alone. But I still wonder if it would have made any difference for him if I had gone. 

I still regret that decision. It wasn't an earth shattering decision but every time I think about how I have defied the societal norms in many matters, I remember this one occasion when I bowed to them. But I am still confused over whether I should have gone or not. I didn't want to go just to make a point. I am beyond that stage in life where I would want to do something just because society doesn't approve or because I want to show people that women can do whatever they set their minds to. I know I can do whatever I set my mind to and that is enough for me - I don't need to demonstrate that to others.

I made the choice to not go because I had the choice. My brother didn't have a choice. THAT is what bothers me the most. I copped out because I had a choice but I should have sucked it up and been there for my brother who had no choice but to go through the heart wrenching moments on his own. I am sorry for that.

The Generation F

F, for Forgotten. I belong to it. I know a lot of other friends who do, too. A cousin recently lamented over the same thing - being forgotten. You automatically get included in this generation as soon as you move out of the country, away from all friends and family.

My membership to this exclusive club began in September '99. At first I didn't realize what was going on. Dollar-to-Rupee conversion and vice-versa convinced me that the high rates for phone calls were the reason no one called. Then the rates began dropping. Now, it is a comfortable single digit number per minute. Easily affordable. Still no calls. Most times only email invitations for weddings make their way to us. Sometimes only the information of a wedding trickles back to us. We do get loads of calls on birthdays and anniversaries from loving family members. Sometimes friends too. And for those, we are thankful. Festivals, for some reason, are altogether different.

We try to call all friends and family members on festivals. That can take over a week as there are loads of calls to be made but only so many hours during which to make them, due to the time difference. And during those times, sometimes, a poignant realization hits me - we are the only ones making these calls!! It has been extra tough since my dad passed away. Festivals are now a reminder of the days when we used to get a call/email/ecard from him. I try to call my mom and brother the night before (morning of, their time) and on the morning of (evening of that day, their time) - because I know they must be missing him too. And I like to believe that my calls provide them some comfort. But come evening (my time) on the day of, I am left alone to celebrate the occasion and to miss him. It hurts the most on those times. But I am getting used to it. I know I will eventually get to a point where I will be able to give without expecting to receive. That is called growing up, isn't it?

Pleading "Not Guilty"

Note: I had been planning this post for a long time but now seemed like a good time to post it because I came across the The Women's Web 'Mommy Guilt' Contest. Mommy Guilt is omnipresent, but it doesn't have to consume us!

I often joke that the only trips I take are the Guilt Trips that the states of being a mother, daughter, wife and friend induce. I am way too familiar with the feeling of guilt. The pensiveness, the tension. The nagging feeling that you are responsible for someone else's unhappiness or misfortune. Oddly tough, the guilt I suffer the least is Mommy Guilt. I guess I have been through too much to have already realized that NOTHING is under your control as a parent. 

I had no problem conceiving my first child. It seemed like we decided to have kids, started trying and Boom! I was pregnant. Well, not right away. It took us two tries because the first month we were so tired we fell asleep during the baby making process. (Yeah mom!! That's what happened and it IS funny so don't run away now. Read the entire post :P You too, bro! :D) Then, 3 years later, we decided to bring another child into this world and started trying. And kept trying. And trying. And trying. For four years. And then a bulb went "Ping!" in our brains! WE NEEDED HELP!! So then began the trips to Infertility specialists and clinics and various labs. And the Guilt Monster raised its ugly head - maybe I hadn't been taking good care of myself, maybe I was too fat, maybe I had waited too long and my biological clock was all ticked out. The nice specialists we met slowly, but surely debunked all my maybe's. Women heavier than me got pregnant all the time and the test results showed nothing was wrong with me or J. At 35, my biological clock was fine too. Ours was "Idiopathic Infertility". I define it as "A condition where idiots, who have already conceived once, fail to conceive". I have found that humor is great for dissipating guilt :D 4 IUIs and 2 IVFs later, M came along. Now I look at M and tell myself "There is NO WAY I am feeling guilty any more!"

Working-Mommy-Guilt has been the easiest to deal with. I grew up watching my mom juggle a job with family and housework and saw how she did it all. She actually made it look easy and fun AND fulfilling. So I always knew where I stood in this regard. In the "want to work outside of home" camp. Thankfully, with flexi-time and the good (albeit expensive) childcare options available to us here, it has been manageable AND fulfilling so far. What could be wrong in providing my kids with a secure financial future AND providing them with a happy and content mom? I see no reason to feel guilty there.

I have already written about how I realized that, as a parent, I can't really control everything my child does (or goes through). AT the age of 5, S developed Alopecia Areata. For days, even months and probably years, I tried to find reasons to blame myself. Maybe I didn't give her proper nutrition. Maybe I stressed her out with my discipline or over-scheduled her. Or, maybe, I gave her defective genes. Maybe my house was not clean enough or I was too anal about the cleanliness. ANYTHING that would give me a reason why my daughter was suffering from such an emotionally traumatic condition. Unfortunately, all the doctors we met slowly and methodically destructed all my reasons. Alopecia does not have a known cause, they told me. Then they proceeded to prove it with the umpteen tests they ordered - each test came back normal. Nothing was wrong with my child - except that she had lost 99% of her hair. 

Those were tough days. J and I would sweep up bags full of S' hair from the carpet,  and the vacuum would still clog up and whine in rage with the hair still left behind on the carpet. We painstakingly gathered all the hair that WAS left on S' scalp and tried to cover her head with it so the bald patches wouldn't show. We tried not to discuss how torn we were, in front of S. To her we presented an optimistic facade - that everything will be alright. That she will get all her hair back one day soon and this would be a nightmare left behind, never to be remembered again. She did get her hair back, but the nightmare hasn't been forgotten. She still gets bald patches here and there on her scalp but it isn't as bad either - we no longer fill bags after bags with her hair. 

It used to break my heart to see her try to cover a bald spot or to have her request me to fill out her missing eyebrow with an eyeliner. It is becoming easier to see her figure out ways to hide those bald spots and still look stunning. No that is not my mommy-pride speaking. Her self-confidence makes her shine. I know she still struggles internally with the condition. Still curses it. Hates the way her newly grown hair sticks out from between the rest of the hair. It is a constant battle between her hair and the gel she applies to keep the stray strands down. But I also see a strong woman emerging from within her. A girl who has gone through, and is still struggling with, Alopecia Areata. A girl who, just last year, had an allergic reaction so bad it would have had a grown man howling and is still struggling with the newly developed allergies that she didn't have before now, is now turning into a confident, still kind and loving (despite all the struggle) woman who makes her parents proud each and every moment of their lives. A girl whose teachers write emails to her parents singing praises of how she is the most loving and polite student they have ever met. A girl whose teachers/ school administrators stop me in the school office to joke how they wishe she would get at least one B grade because it just isn't possible for anyone to get all A's. (And I can't tell you how proud that makes me because she got those A's WHILE she was struggling with her severe allergic reactions and outbreaks). She has been the answer to my mommy-guilt. I see her and I see how she has turned out despite all the hardships she has faced, and I say to myself "There is NO WAY I am feeling guilty for THAT!"




Edited to add: This post was considered a "notable entry" in the contest here.

Take the blinders off!!

Ever since I read this article in The Hindu , I have been itching to post my views on it. Or on the point of view expressed in it, to be more accurate. I found a link to this article on Indian HomeMaker's blog and she, as always, has written very well on it already. Normally, if I see someone else do such a great job of commenting on something (and if I know I cannot do a better job on it than them) I leave well enough alone. But this article just raised my hackles so much that I couldn't stop myself from commenting on it. Such a one-sided view of this issue is guaranteed to get a rise out of me every time. I wrote on this topic a little while ago as well here and here.  Do read Indian Home Maker's post too - it is more detailed and better composed.

Where do I begin? I have something to say to almost every line/ statement of the article. Some sentences start out on the right note then abruptly take the most absurd turn. 

Far too many people see things in only black or white. Pro-life means valuing life (I get that) but pro-choice means one WANTS to take lives?? Where does one get THAT interpretation from the word? Pro-choice means just that - someone who favors the option of giving a woman the choice instead of making the decision for her. Who says the woman WILL choose to take the life she is carrying? Maybe she will decide to keep the baby. At least the decision will be hers and she will be more at peace with what follows.

Similarly, the debate of Stay-at-home-mom vs. Work-out-of-home mom seems starkly black and white in some people's minds to me. Take the author of this article for example. She made the decision to stay at home after she had her kid. The decision worked out well for her. She enjoyed staying at home with the baby, did not have any considerable financial worries or ambitions in her prfessional field. I say "Good for her!!" But then to go on and bemoan the fact that women these days value career more than getting married or having kids just highlights the "holier than thou" attitude that many people advocating SAHMs sport. 

I don't disagree that there ARE many women out there who consider house work below their dignity just because they are "highly educated and/or working". They suffer from the same monochromatic view of the world, I think. What the proponents and opponents of working out/staying home forget is that as long as the working out of home or staying at home is THE WOMAN's choice, and as long as she makes sure her children are well cared for, it is NO ONE ELSE's business what she chooses to do!

Most mothers, who work out of home, do make sure their kids are well fed, well taken care of and get to spend time with them. NO ONE except the mother and her children, can determine how much time is good enough for them to spend together. Exceptions are there in every case. For every mom who stays at home and takes great care of her kids, I can point out one who doesn't. Similarly there are working mothers who take care of their kids and homes and there are working mothers who don't. Instead of blaming feminism, the ever-popular scapegoat, maybe we should try and understand that there are all kinds of people (and thereby, mothers) in this world. How they handle things (or don't) depends a lot on what kind of a person they are and less on a movement that started to get women their rightful place in the society.

This article offends my sensibilities at so many levels that the mind boggles. Take this part - "I get the feeling fertility is a disease. When the contraceptive pill was first introduced, it was a triumph for working women, a symbol of liberation. Women then were keen to get on it; today we know the side effects include “blood clots, diabetes, depression or anxious emotional states” and many women are keen to get off it." Now if one were to pause for a second and think - WHY were women so eager to get on the pill? Because they wanted control over their own fertility! How many times have we heard women complain they have to stay on the pill because their husband refuses to consider options like condoms or vasectomy? So the options for a woman are to beg her man to use condoms or be ready for a pregnancy she might not want? I'd rather be brainwashed by feminism, thank you!

The author left her job after she had a kid because, in her own words, "The juggling act between the home and the job would leave me exhausted and stressed." Did she consider asking her spouse to pitch in with the child care and house chores? That way they wouldn't have had to rely excessively on the maids for child care. Yes, it is good for a child to spend a big chunk of their time with a PARENT - who, quite not so obviously to many people, CAN be the dad as well. Even if she didn't, leaving the job was HER decision and I respect that. She is happy with her decision, more power to her! But other women don't necessarily have to follow her example. My husband shares child care duties and house chores with me equally. That is another way. A friend works full time, brings home a sizeable salary, her job provides health insurance for her family while her husband runs his business from home and is the primary care provider for their three daughters. Who is to say this arrangement is inferior to the other two arrangements? Who gets to decide what is a fair arrangement? The couple! And NO ONE ELSE! I don't judge others who don't follow what I do. And I don't get why others get their knickers in a twist when some women prefer to go out to work instead of staying at home, whatever their reasons be. I also don't get it when someone makes a "concession" for the mothers who work because they need the money. Money isn't the only motivational factor for finding employment. Many women work because they like their job. And I do believe every woman should at least have the qualifications and capability to be financially independent, even if she chooses not to work outside of home.

The article does not outright condemn the working mother. (Another term I have a bone to pick with. ALL mothers work, whether they stay at home or step out of it to earn a living). But the way the author pointedly asks "Are money, career, and power the only measure of success? Family, health, love and memories should count much more. Shouldn’t feminism mean greater power, freedom and, above all, greater happiness for women?" she is single-sidedly assuming that mothers who step out to earn a living (or peanuts, like me) are doing so BECAUSE they don't value family, health, love and memories. Who died and made her the queen of all such insights, is what I want to know! Yes, feminism means greater power and freedom for the women. Which, in turn, should bring greater happiness (and peace of mind) to the women. Now WHAT brings a woman that happiness and peace should be up to a woman to decide, right?!

To elaborate on my last post

No, I am not turning my blog into a Quotable Quotes repository. One - I was testing the post by email functionality of blogger. Two - I really had that thought in my mind for the last few days.

I have been through some emotionally tough times recently. Nothing drastic, just something that was a culmination of the medicines I am taking for various conditions and events that have happened in the last year. I had been feeling very down in the dumps, felt like something was pulling me down deep and keeping me there. Please notice the past tense in the previous sentences. I don't feel that way any more. Not all the time anyway. And THAT makes all the difference in my outlook on my life.

A few months ago, I was so blue I could find NOTHING in my life that was worth living for. I was, even in my darkest times, thankful for what I have - a wonderful husband, two beautiful miracles of kids, a great family including my mom and brother who care a lot about me. But even these positives couldn't overcome the shadows on my mind.

About three months ago, I stopped taking one medication that was adding to the depression - the progesterone. Slowly my emotional condition started to improve. Now I am at a point where I still sometimes get blue but those times are far and few between. And not as intense. While earlier I would get all engulfed into the darkness, now I skillfully tread the waters until the darkness dissolves. I had begun thinking of myself as a complete and utter loser. Now I think I will be a loser only if I give up. I won't. And that makes for the previous random thought.

God must be five years old

Only a five year old thinks seeing people get hurt is fun.

Only a five year old thinks seeing people fall and stumble is fun.

Only a five year old thinks piling muck on someone is fun.

Only a five year old thinks piling more muck on a mucky person is fun.

Only a five year old pokes you in the ribs and laughs when you grimace.

Only a five year old can repeatedly forgive you for hurting him/her.

Only a five year old doesn't demand respect and still helps you when you ask for help.

Only a five year old can love you unconditionally.

Yep. I think God IS a five year old!

ADHD and Learning Disabilities

Kiran of KarmicKids came up with the idea of dedicating March as a "Learning Disabilities Month" in our little corner of the blogworld. I am writing about ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder), how it is related to Learning Disabilities and how it is different from them.

Disclaimer: I have put together this post with help of online research. I am NOT an expert on the matter. These are just my personal views. If you have any concerns that your child might have a learning disorder, please voice them to your child's doctor immediately.

ADHD: What is it?

ADHD, or Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, also known as ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder) is the name of a group of behaviors found in many children and adults. Kids and adults who have ADHD have trouble paying attention to anything they do and are more impulsive and/or active for what is usual for their age.

ADHD is characterized by presence of one, two or all three groups of behaviors - inattention, hyperactivity and impulsiveness. Based on the symptoms that a child shows, his/her ADHD can be categorized into

1. ADHD, Inattentive type,

2. ADHD, Hyperactive-Impulsive type and

3. ADHD, Combined Type. According to the Learning Disabilities Association of America following are the symptoms and signs of ADHD, and also strategies to help children with ADHD:

Symptoms and signs

1. Fails to give close attention to details or makes careless mistakes
2. May have poorly formed letters or words or messy writing
3. Has difficulty sustaining attention in tasks or play activities
4. Does not follow through on instructions and fails to finish schoolwork or chores
5. Avoids or strongly dislikes tasks (such as schoolwork) that require sustained mental effort
6. Forgetful in daily activities
7. Has difficulty organizing tasks and activities
8. Loses things necessary for tasks or activities (pencils, assignments, tools)
9. Shows difficulty engaging in leisure activities quietly
10. Acts as if “driven by a motor” and cannot remain still
11. Blurts out answers to questions before the questions have been completed, often interrupts others

Strategies

1. Allow a child to change work sites frequently while completing homework or studying
2. Assign tasks involving movement such as passing out papers, running errands, watering plants
3. Use music as a tool for transitioning, song = task
4. Vary tone of voice: loud, soft, whisper
5. Stage assignments and divide work into smaller chunks with frequent breaks
6. Teach students to verbalize a plan before solving problems or undertaking a task
7. Permit a child to do something with hands while engaged in sustained listening: stress ball, worry stone, paper folding, clay
8. Use inconspicuous methods such as a physical cue to signal a child when she or he tunes out
9. Provide opportunities for student to show divergent, creative, imaginary thinking and get peer recognition for originality
10. Employ multi-sensory strategies when directions are given and lessons presented

Another site I recommend for getting more information about ADHD is FamilyDoctor. According to this site, here are the strategies to help a child who has ADHD:

1. Make a schedule.
2. Make simple house rules.
3. Make sure your directions are understood.
4. Reward good behavior.
   
5. Make sure your child is supervised all the time.
6. Watch your child around his or her friends.
7. Set a homework routine.
8. Focus on efforts, not grades.
9. Talk with your child's teachers.
   

Come to think of it, these strategies will help ANY child, won't they? Please visit the above link to see the detailed description of these points. It is easy to confuse ADHD symptoms with the normal childhood behavior. Many children are hyperactive, younger children typically have a shorter attention span and not to act on an impulse is sometimes a learned habit instead of being an inborn trait. So the mere presence of these symptoms is not an indication of ADHD. There are some other criteria for confirming a diagnosis of ADHD, which include (but may not be limited to) the following:

1. The symptoms have been present for at least six months,
   



2. They began before the child was 7 years old, and
   



3. They are causing an impairment in more than one setting, like both at home and in school.
   

Though it is natural for a parent to worry, but in this case dagnosis is best left to a professional. ADHD is NOT a learning disability but it can cause learning problems in a child. It is very important to get a proper diagnosis AND to understand how it can affect a child's learning process.

How is ADHD different from Learning disabilities?

A common misconception about ADHD is that it is a learning disability. The confusion occurs because ADHD can affect learning and as many as 30% of people suffering from ADHD also have a learning disability. There is, however, a difference. A student with a learning disability will be deficient in one or two areas while performing at or above average in other areas. ADHD, on the other hand, affects learning globally and affects all cognitive functions instead of just one or two. A student with ADHD should always be tested for learning disabilities because an undiagnosed learning disability can mimic the symptoms of ADHD. During my research on this I realized there is TONS of material out there. My post is in NO WAY comprehensive on the topic. In fact, it doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of it. It is aimed at merely creating an awareness. To find more information on it, ask your child's doctor AND Mr. Google. Here are links to the websites I took help from in compiling this post:

Learning Disabilities Association of America
Wikipedia
Centers for Disease Control and Prevention
National Institute of Mental Health

Family Doctor


Here are the other posts on this topic around the blogworld -


Kiran wrote how parents can help their child if he/she has Learning Disabilities.


Tharini has written on the different types of Learning disabilities.

Lak wrote about learning disabilities and their impact on a child's self-esteem.

Priya has written about her daughter's struggles with speech and language delay.


Girl Next Door has written about how to treat/manage Learning Disabilities.

To "thoo" or not to "thoo"*, that is the question

OKAY, cheesy title I know. But yes, that IS a dilemma I sometimes face. You see, I do not believe in the evil eye or "nazar". My mom managed to bring me and my brother up without having to resort to any means to ward off the evil eye. We actually made fun of the various practices (Quietly, among ourselves. We weren't rude enough to do it in front of the believers). I and my brother grew up to be fairly normal individuals, I believe (though you will probably find plenty of individuals contesting that claim). All I know is - we did fall sick but we didn't need any "special measures" to get over it. Just some TLC and plain old medicines. Actually my mom's favorite remedy for colds and coughs was warm water. It is mine too. And my daughter now automatically asks for a glass of warm water if she feels the sniffles coming on or a tickle in her throat. And for skin problems we relied on the good ol' neem tree in our back (side?) yard. Cloth strips soaked in cold water for high fever and so on. But I never saw my mom muttering under her breath waving a fistful of salt around us. Or do any other such stuff. We were never taken to the "tantrik" to get some "jhad-phoonk" done. We thought the only use for nimbu mirchi was in dal-ka-tadka :) In fact, come to think of it, I never saw anyone else in our colony doing any of this stuff and that is why I found it extremely weird the first time I encountered it at my in-laws' place. I never made fun of it, but I made it known clearly that I didn't believe in that stuff.

So when I had my first daughter, every time her dadi asked me to ward off the evil eye, I asked her to do it herself. Or asked her to tell my husband to do it. I stopped putting a kala-tika on her forhead as soon as I could. I never tied a black thread around her waist. And I believe, despite the various problems she has faced (alopecia, dental stuff), that she is a fairly normal kid with fairly normal problems. I have butted heads with a dear friend a number of times over this. He seriously believes in this stuff. He has asked me a number of times why I don't. And he has even said I should do it as it is my duty as a mother. When I told him to teach my husband, he said it is effective only if the mother (or the lady of the house) does it. [I am not even making this up!] Now I find that concept strange and kind of amusing (now that I seem to have gained some maturity - earlier I would have gone ballistic shouting "gender-discrimination"), to put it very mildly. Why would evil eye discriminate between genders? How does it matter who is casting it off as long as the correct procedure is being followed? Doesn't make sense to me. BUT - not the point of this post so moving on!

So now, as I wrote yesterday - M has been going through repeated bouts of diarrhea. Yesterday J and I were seriously and sincerely discussing if we should do some of the "nazar utarna" stuff! Today she had diarrhea again. I am still of the opinion that it isn't necessary. And I absolutely respect other people's opinions if they believe in this. I just don't want it to be pushed on me. I told J he should do it if he wants to. It does make me wonder sometimes, but I haven't converted yet! And please, don't try to convert me. I'll respect your beliefs if you respect mine.

[*Saying "Thoo-thoo", as if one is spitting, is a simple, quick and efficient way to ward off evil eye followed by many people - even my boss who is not Indian!]

Learning to eat the humble pie is no easy task

Watched two people closely in work-related interactions lately. Person One (PO) was rude, arrogant, over-confident, knows-just-enough-to-cause-trouble kind, childish and a bully to some extent. Person Two (PT) was professional, humble, rational, tolerant, patient, ready to accept own mistakes and willing to learn more from others. PT extended a courteous apology to PO even though what PO accused PT of, was not PT's fault. PO's level in the organization and contacts with people high up the corporate ladder "warranted" it plus the apology prevented a bad situation from escalating to "ugly" (for our team). I have a LOT to learn from PT.

A fine line

A colleague and I were discussing war and the conversation veered towards terrorism. He quoted another colleague who had once said that whatever Islamic militants are doing is not terrorism, it is war. They don't have hi-tech war equipment like America so they use whatever they have (people, knowledge of the terrain), to their advantage. That is war. I say it still qualifies as terrorism because of the fact that they are targeting civilians. If they had aimed these tactics at the US army, I would have agreed that it is war. Heck, Shivaji used guerrilla tactics to win, and I admire him. But when innocent civilians are deliberately targeted and killed, it steps over into the territory of terrorism. I would love to engage that other colleague in a debate on this but he also happens to be my boss :(

The benefit of being together for 12 years is...

... that your partner knows which part of the argument has hurt your feelings. Apologies and explanations come faster. And you make up sooner than you would have otherwise.

The downside is that one knows EXACTLY what part of the argument will hurt the most :D

Is it my greed??

I was link hopping today while sipping on a cup of tea and this is where I landed. One article caught my eye because it is relevant to me. It struck a cord! Before going to the hospital for my C-section this year, I asked my husband at least a few times what I was going to get as an appreciation of what I have been (and am going to go) through. He said "The baby!". WRONG answer, buster! That's what I told him and he immediately corrected it to "whatever you want honey". So, off I went, got under the knife, had the baby, stayed in the hospital for 5 days, came back and got on with my life (well, kinda). I forgot about "the gift". Not for long, though. I soon remembered it and immediately felt bad that he had forgotten. Not one to keep my thoughts to myself, I immediately went up to him and accused him of not caring for me (poor man had been cooking, cleaning, driving our older one to and from activities, changing poopy diapers, taking care of the baby when I needed rest, mowing the lawn, doing grocery shopping and a MILLION other things, but that is beside the point, isn't it?) That's when he told me he had set aside $400 for me to buy whatever I wish. I immediately melted into a puddle of goop. I mean, this man is just ADORABLE, isn't he? (And he is MINE :D)

Now, he still has that $400 sitting aside waiting for me to decide what I want to do with it. I am not a girly girl, so no frilly stuff for me, thank you. I would love some diamonds, but I am very conscious of our budget and don't feel comfortable spending money on something frivolous even when I deserve to (oh yes, I do! There is no doubt about that). I wanted to spend it on a class (English literature at the local community college, painting, dance - something like that) but I don't think leaving him alone (or him and my parents) to take care of the baby while I attend a class that is not exactly essential right now would sit right with my conscience. I am now thinking of spending that money on a ballroom dance class for both of us. Which means it won't be in the near future because I don't believe in leaving the kids with a baby sitter just to go do these things. AND that we'll need a few more hundred dollars to pay for it. So, truthfully, I don't think I am going to be using that money for quite some time now. But that's OK. What matters the most to me is that J thought of me by putting that money aside.

Now, coming back to the article. It asks "Isn't a bundle of joy enough?" It says

In a more innocent age, new mothers generally considered their babies to be the greatest gift imaginable. Today, they are likely to want some sort of tangible bonus as well.

Don't get me wrong. I love both my daughters. There is no material thing in life that is worth more to me. Then why did I want J to gift me something as an appreciation for "giving" him the baby? I cannot explain that. There are a lot of emotions and memories intricately meshed together on this subject. This article forced me to think about them and try to clarify everything in my mind. I am trying to sort through the entire mess of emotions so please bear with me. Or you can stop reading the post now :D Probably, by the end of this post, I would still be rambling, unable to find the point to this incoherency.

The first thing that happens whenever I talk/think on this topic is that I go back in time to when S was born. A lot of my illusions were shattered then. One being that people cared for my well-being. Cared for ME. By people, I mean ILs. One example - while driving to the hospital before my delivery, my MIL kept reminding my FIL to drive carefully because I was in pain. While coming back from the hospital after my delivery, when the baby was secure in her arms and I was visibly wincing, tears running down my face (remember I had a C-section and the stitches were still raw) with every jump over every pothole that my FIL could find and drive over - NOT A SINGLE WORD! And all the while MIL was sitting right next to me in the back seat so she can't claim she didn't know I was miserable. That is ONE example. On the first day I came back. Everyday small and big things happened that made me realize that I was cherished only as long as I had the baby in my belly. Or, only BECAUSE I had her in my belly. Just a vessel. I was useless as soon as the baby came out. I said this to J too (see point above regarding me being unable to keep my thoughts to myself) and he said he felt that sometimes too. Imagine the hurt! To feel it is one thing. To have it validated by someone else is totally another. Thankfully, J was, and always has been a pillar of support and I know he never felt that way. That is all I care about. Now. Then it was too difficult to deal with. Anyhoo!

During one of these conversations, J told me that when I was wheeled in for the emergency C-section (we are still talking about S' birth), everyone was worried sick. Then as soon as the nurse brought the baby out, they went to look and coo at the baby forgetting that I was still in the OT and there was no news on how I was doing. Not until I was wheeled out after the operation did J breathe easy. He mentioned it to underline the fact that he too felt that I was important to ILs only until the baby came out safely. This goes into why I feel I deserve a "gift" when I deliver a baby. I didn't then. But after my first delivery, after going through this, and some other crap, I started craving for some sign that I was important too. That people still cared about me. It got so bad that I sometimes wanted to (and maybe did) compete with the baby in gaining J's attention. I am ashamed of that now - a mother competing with her own daughter? For something that the daughter obviously deserves and isn't even aware of? But such was my state of mind. In that house full of relatives, I felt utterly alone. It was a dark time for me and I have never spoken/written about it till now. Hopefully this post will get rid of those feelings once and for all. Puking does make you feel better, doesn't it?

So this time, I warned J that there better be a gift waiting for me once I come back from the hospital or else. But this time is totally different from that time. This time, J was with me in the OR. When the baby was pulled out and had been checked for all vital signs we got to hold her. I cried that we finally were where we had been trying so desperately to get - a family of FOUR! The anaesthesiologist noticed my tears and gently wiped them away with a tissue. That is when I forgave him for poking me in the back with that big, scary needle. Anyone who notices your silent tears and gently wipes them away cannot be that bad, isn't it? Then the nurse declared that she was going to take the baby to the nursery to be cleaned and fed (if M turned out to be hypoglycemic because I had had gestational diabetes - which thankfully she wasn't) She said the new dad can come with the baby if he wanted. J refused! He said he wanted to be by my side even though I pressured him to go (I couldn't bear the thought of our baby being alone with strangers :P) He stayed with me until the doctor stitched me back up and I was wheeled out into the recovery room. Then he went away very briefly to call our families in India and let them know the bundle of joy had arrived and to take a quick peek at the baby. Then he was right back by my side. ALL the time until I was able to wiggle my toes to demonstrate that I was recovering well and was wheeled to my room. Didn't I tell you he is a GEM?! And he is MINE!! :D

Updated to add: The nurse came to me when J was out calling our families and said I was lucky to have him as my husband. Why? He was the first "new dad" she had seen who hadn't run away to be with the baby and had stayed back to be with his wife instead. I still get tears in my eyes every time I remember that!

You see, this time it IS different. Even though I went through a lot more to have this baby. It was me who went through the hundreds of injections, rode the hormone induced roller coaster of emotions, went in for almost daily blood tests, went through the indignity of the hundreds of tests and internal ultra sound exams, carried the unmentioned moniker of "baanjh", ached to have a baby in my arms, tolerated people's comments on how "it was time for another", understood the unsaid "the 'problem' must be with YOU" words and much much more. This time I am more at peace. Strangely, now I don't want that gift either. Now, my bundle of joy IS enough.

Spacer Hell (and other tirades)

Again. Much whining and cajoling/ cuddling happening in the Kay household. Next week we will enter "Expander Hell". Will update about how that goes.

In other news, the baby is a lazy bum and isn't making even a tiny bit of effort to turn over or to crawl. Not that I am worried because that means we aren't running after her every single minute of the day. Thanking my stars here!

S has a concert at school today. She has been getting Violin (strings) lessons since last year. There will be two performances - one in the morning for the entire school and one in the evening for the parents of kids who are performing. The letter that came home from her music teachers (yes, she has two - one for the "regular" stuff and one for strings) said the "preferred attire" was black/ dark colored skirt and blouse or a dress (NO trousers). That raised my hackles. Why? Read on.

Last year we purchased THREE dresses for S on her teacher's demand for the various school plays that she participated in with the rest of her class. Now, S has recently lost interest in wearing skirts and dresses and prefers trousers and jeans. As a result, those three dresses are just hanging in her closet, gathering dust. We don't mind buying her clothes but we cannot just buy dresses on demand specially when she doesn't even wear them. These demands for dresses were so specific as to what the dresses should look like that S couldn't use any of her existing dresses for the purpose. And money doesn't grow on the tree for us, you know. For me, to buy three dresses each worth $30 or more, is very difficult financially. That is money we could use on something else. Some moms borrow dresses from friends but I can't do that. I simply cannot borrow clothes from anyone - that's the way I am. Thats the reason I don't shop at consignment stores even though one can find some really beautiful clothes for reasonable prices there. I don't do second hand clothes. I just don't.

So, this time I made a tough decision. I decided I was going to ignore the teachers' instructions and dress S in formal black trousers instead of formal black skirt or dress. I can't tell you how terrified that girl was of being yelled at by her teachers! I wrote a letter to the teachers just so S wouldn't have to face their anger. this is how it went:

Hello Mrs. G and Ms. J,

S is dressed in trousers instead of a dress or a skirt because she doesn't
have a black/dark dress or a skirt that's the right size. She asked us to buy
one but we refused because we cannot afford to buy dresses on demand for every
school play or concert she participates in. Last year we had to buy
three!

She is terrified she will be yelled at but I have assured her that you
will see reason. She has taken full care to dress formally in black trousers for
the concert.

Thank you very much for understanding the situation she is in through no
fault of hers.

Sincerely,

Cee Kay
(xxx)xxx-xxxx
Mother of S Kay
Room# XXX

I then called the parent co-ordinator at S' school and talked to her. She agreed that I had done the right thing and that I should bring this issue up at the next PTO meeting if I don't hear back from the teachers. I have heard from other parents how difficult it is for them to come up with new clothes fulfilling these demands. I am surprised that no one has spoken up!

I am waiting to see how they react. S asked me how she should respond if they still yell at her and I told her that she should be respectful and listen to whatever they say (they are her teachers, after all). THEN she needs to come tell me and I'll take it up with them if the need arises. I am optimistic that they won't be upset. We'll see what happens...

Update: I spoke to S when she returned from school and she said her classroom's assistant didn't pass on the letter to the music teacher saying "She has put in so much effort for this concert, let's not give it to her today". WTF?? Who is she to decide when I can communicate with the music teacher and when not?? I left her a slightly annoyed voicemail saying I was a little upset because I did want the music teacher to get my letter today and respond. Another thing that annoys me is that S is so scared of her teachers' reaction (even though they didn't say anything to her at school today) that she has decided to wear another, kind of dull, dress to the concert. She knows that she looks better in the trousers and top that she wore this morning but she still wants to wear that plain dress. A friend at work asked me why didn't I force S to wear the trouser and top. Thats because I want her to make her own decisions. But this decision, I know, she is making because she is terrified of her teachers and I don't want her to base her decisions on her fear for someone else either. Does that make sense?

Walking the talk

I really should practise what I preach. If someone posts a rant at their own blog, I should refrain from spilling bitterness there and I should also rant at my own blog WITHOUT linking to the original rant if the writer of that rant didn't link to others. I will try to do that from now on. The only exception I will make is if the post is exceptionally vile like the second one I mentioned in my earlier post. In that case it will be an all out war - whether that post was directed at me or not. I cannot stand by and see anyone being victimized in that way.

Sowmya had every right to post a rant on her own blog regarding what ticks her off about mommy bloggers. I had every right to write a post on my views on MY blog. I am not happy by the turn of events this has caused. I don't believe what I did was wrong. I did link to her but I also mentioned that her post was thought provoking even if very irritating for the condescending tone it takes. I even mentioned that I liked other posts on her blog. I got carried away by the nastiness of some comments that were left to that post and in retrospect I can think of a hundred ways I could have done this differently. I could have written a post and then informed her on her blog that I have put up my views on my blog. I could have refrained form replying to the nasty commenters. I could have replied to them on my blog instead of doing it on her blog. I always say that one has the freedom to move on if they don't like what a blogger posts. I should have done the same.

I don't think the turn of events has been caused by MY post but I somehow feel responsible for it. Don't know how. I will need some time to sort through all this. The nastiness that one particular anon commenter was spreading was beyond belief. I never imagined that someone could be so full of hatred and venom.

Tough times ahead! Again.

God, grant me serenity,

to accept the things I cannot change.

The courage, to change the things I can.

And the wisdom to know the difference.

ॐ भूर्भुव स्वः तत्सः वितुर्वरेण्यम
भर्गो देवस्य धी महि धियो यो नः प्रचोदायत

These two prayers have helped me get through many tough times and I am counting on them this time around too. The toughest thing for a parent to do is watch their child suffer even a little bit. I remember one Vicks Vaporub ad that said - "आपको वही खांसी सबसे ज्यादा सताती है, जो आपके मुन्ने को आती है"। (You are bothered by that cough the most that bothers your son) How true!! If I could meet the person who came up with that line, I'd kiss their hands. And feet. This is the most insightful comment I have EVER heard about parenting.

S' dentist had asked us to take her to an orthodontist because she has some majorly crooked teeth and he wanted us to get started with "preventive maintenance" rather than have to go for something drastic (like surgery) when she grows up. So, we went. In nutshell what the orthodontist told us was this - her upper jaw is weak and not growing as well as her lower jaw has. As a result the lower jaw is slowly thrusting its way out while the upper jaw is going back. Her bite is not as it should be - upper teeth overlapping lower teeth. They meet and if this continues, the lower teeth could overlap the upper ones. This is genetic - something decided by the genes she has. And that's when, for a moment, I thought maybe my and J's match wasn't exactly made in heaven. (I am sorry J - I know you understand. I just meant that something that gives our daughter such a problem to deal with couldn't have been made "in heaven". I am VERY happy with you - for the record, and I wouldn't have married anyone else if I couldn't have married you. You know that, don't you?)

Thankfully, there is a simple fix for this. They will install an "expander" in her upper jaw which will push it outward and give the teeth some more space so they can come in easily. Then she will be given a face mask that will be attached to her teeth in the back, and will help pull her upper jaw outward. All this is going to be very uncomfortable but not painful (according to the orthodontist) And this will hopefully prevent her from needing surgery to fix this later on in her life. It depends on how well her upper jaw grows after this and if her lower jaw doesn't grow faster than the upper one.

Simple. In theory. Take into account that it is a 9 year old who will be going through all this, add to it the extreme discomfort she will have to bear and the pain too, and the fact that this treatment will last ten long months (after which, if both the jaws behave as they should, she will get simple braces) and you'll know why I need the support of prayers. I am on the verge of crying for her, at her discomfort and how my little trooper is going through all this. Yes, she is a little grumpy and yes we have given her the liberty to be so. She had "spacers" put in her teeth so that they will get some space for the metal expander to be put in this Saturday. That is making her extremely uncomfortable. She refused painkillers initially but then came back and asked for them. Which makes her drowsy which, in turn, makes going to school and swim practice and everything else that she has to do so much more difficult. Every sleep-deprived parent will vouch for that.

"When the going gets tough, the tough get going" has always been my mantra. I have mentioned it before too. My main grievance with God is - why her AGAIN?????

In my thoughts...

She is going through exactly what I went through last year. Not exactly, but yes, the pain is the same. The reason is the same too.

All those memories have come rushing back. I remember each day of what I went through. I wish no one, who really wanted a child, had to go through this pain.

Heather, I have you and your family in my thoughts. I know you will bounce back - you are a strong woman. And know that I am rooting for you!