Month: September 2011

It’s a jungle out here

This year has not been nice to Mumma Comfy. What with her being sick and either eating unhealthy food or nothing at all at the start of the year, to worrying non-stop about sick Nani, to having a complete breakdown last month. No this year has not been nice to Mumma Comfy.

The tears and the sadness in turn set out a chain reaction of preterm contractions stressing her out even more. Emergency trips to labor and delivery, where Buzz didi would ask every few minutes, ‘Baby lenne aaye hein?’ Endless trips to the doctor’s office. Stress tests and amniotic fluid level tests and hematocrit levels tests.  The doctor asked her to reduce her stress levels. Did she succeed? To some degree. Were someone to ask me, if I wanted to be out just then? I would answer with a very strong, ‘Of course not!’ But then no one was asking me. Her weight was also not moving up but I can’t leave everything to her now can I? So I did my part and grew bigger, taking in all the nourishment I could and I grew strong every day. I also made sure to kick her real hard every now and then when I felt she needed to be told to take care of me.

But I have to give her that she did take care of me. She took her rests very seriously. Reduced her time at work by a lot, working from home instead. Nana moving his tickets to a couple of weeks early and being with her helped as well. And we got to the 37 weeks mark. Yay! I was full term. Which is when Mumma went in to her ‘let’s get work done’ mode. Things that needed to be bought were bought, which meant trips to the mall for me. Cleaning that needed to be done was done which meant increased number of random contractions for me. Food that she wanted to eat was cooked, which meant yummy food for me.

But I was greedy. I wanted to stay inside for a little bit longer. Mumma’s body was listening to my kicks and moves. We crossed over to 38 weeks. Mama rejoiced, placing all his bets on me arriving on his birthday. As if I would share my glory day with anyone else? The night of his birthday he sulked saying, there were 4 more hours to go and that Mumma should do something. Mumma laughed and went about making daal while Papa made rice. Dinner and dishes done, Mumma went to take a shower. She was on her way out when she felt some fluid coming out. She stopped in her tracks. Did her water just break? But it was just a trickle and it stopped after that. Was water breaking not this big dramatic ‘OH MY GOD’ moment which has the actress in the moves running around in frenzy? Nothing like that here. It was 11:00 at night as she picked up her laptop. Papa had to look up at that since Mumma just crashes and starts to count sheeps at this time every night. ‘What are you doing’, he asked. ‘Searching for some information’, she replied. A few clicks here and there and articles read, she called labor and delivery. ‘I think my water just broke’, she said, ‘but I am not very sure’. ‘It just might be lack of bladder control’, the nurse on the other end replied. Mumma looked around in horror and silently prayed, ‘please not THAT!’ The nurse asked her to do a few things, followed by lying down for a while and then to call in about an hours’ time either ways. An hour later Mumma called again with her findings and was asked to head to the hospital.

For two people who have been in a state of limbo for weeks on end, my parents were so not prepared to go to the hospital. There was running around to put the clothes in a bag, find the camera and its transfer cord, my take home clothes, my car seat (and guess what they forgot in the process? Their toothbrushes!). And the funniest thing is, Mumma who had been dealing with constant contractions for all these weeks was getting none now. So she moved around helping Papa without issues. The trip to the hospital at 1:00 at night was pain free unlike with Didi’s, as Mumma likes to tell. Labor room triage confirmed that the membrane indeed had ruptured and Mumma was 3 cm dilated which meant we finally got to see the delivery room at 3:00 A.M. The contractions were back but were not too painful. Mumma sat in peace reading her book, finished it (Yes yes the guy got the girl, if anyone is interested in knowing) and then went to sleep. Her doctor spoke to her after a while and said since things were moving so slowly maybe they should induce labor. What was everyone’s hurry, I would never know. 7:30 in the morning the contractions which were getting steadily more painful and closer together got really painful (I still have birthing rashes to show for them so I do know). Papa called Mama up to give him an update. Nana was called to get Buzz didi ready for daycare. Ballu uncle was called to ask him to drop didi off. Mama called back to say Mammi and the kids were flying the 11:00 A.M flight and would be with us at 2:00 in the afternoon. In the meantime Mumma was discussing the pros and corns of taking a pain killer for the time being to deal with painful contractions and then get epidural when she was closer to delivering or just taking epidural right away. Again given how long it took Didi to make an entry in to this world and how slowly her contractions were getting to the point where they got super painful it was expected that Mumma would have a long labor. At around 8:00 after all the discussion Mumma said, ‘Epidural now’. The anesthesiologist came in around 8:10 and the epidural catheter was put in. Mumma was in excruciating pain by then and was not too still I guess because the epidural only worked on the left side and Mumma was dealing with full on contraction pain on her right side. The anesthesiologist said sometimes it does take time and he would come back in 10 mins to check on Mumma and access the situation. The nurse checked on Mumma soon after which meant it was 8:20 and called out 8 cm dilation and zero station.

The nurse was still logging all this information but honestly I had enough. I wanted to stay inside but no one was ready to let me be. And I can’t stay in a place where I am not welcome, now can I? So I took things in my own hand. Mumma screamed, ‘I have to push, I just have to push’. The nurse was in shock. ‘You can’t push just yet; you are nowhere close to being fully dilated. I checked you 2 mins back’, said she. ‘I don’t know or care’, Mumma grunted, ‘I have to push’. The nurse came over and she could see my head. ‘OH MY GOD! Don’t push just yet. Let me get the equipment ready. Let me at least call the doctor’. Papa calls her the octopus nurse as she did 10 things at the same time, running in and out of the room, getting things ready, checking on Mumma and me, asking Mumma not to push or use little pushes. ‘I have to, I have to’, Mumma kept saying while Papa tried to soothe her and the nurse ran around. Another nurse came in to help set up things and then the doctor came. The doctor had one glove on, was working on putting the other one. The nurse was putting on the doctor’s gown when Mumma gave up and pushed. Once, twice, thrice and yipe yay I came out crying at 8:30 A.M. And just for all the pain and stress Mumma had put me through, I peed all over her. Ain’t I smart?

Buzz didi came to see me and was shocked that I was actually here. She kept looking from Mumma’s belly to me and refused to say anything. She has come around now though and calls for me the first thing in the morning and as soon as she comes from the day care.

Mumma held me and had a long crying session, which for once Papa let her, all the while holding on to her.

I hated the hospital because they kept poking and prodding me. I have five heel pokes and one in my thigh to show for it. I was so happy to come home.

Mammi, Didi and Bhaiya are here and the house is full of war cries and fights and laughs.

Nana is busy dotting on all four of his grandkids and gets no break at all.

Papa is busy taking care of Buzz didi and errands inside and outside the house. And me of course as and when needed.

Mumma watches my diapers obsessively and talks about pee and poop color. She was heard happily telling anyone who would listen that my poop was mustardy yellow now. Whatever that means!

She also calls me a joker at my nursing time drama. hmph!

And she thinks my cries sound like a peacock call. grrrr!

Emails and wishes are pouring in along with surprise ‘What we did not even know!’ from friends of Mumma and Papa who are not from town.

I am the center of the world in the Comfy household and I don’t mind it one bit. I do my part of sleeping at all the wrong times, waking up in the middle of the nights, demanding milk when Mumma is the most tired and generally being myself.

Welcome me to your jungle people and hope to see you all around.
-Bugz, the ‘she’ bunny
(Mumma thinks I look like a monkey, but optimistically calls me a bunny)

What’s in a name?

That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet

wrote Shakespeare and Buzz can’t agree more.

– A boy about her age is named Om. In Buzz’s world he is called ‘Home’

– We call a very good friend of ours at work, Ballu. Buzz and I were heading to his house one weekend so I told her ‘Ballu uncle ke ghar jaa rahe hein’*. Since then she calls him ‘Balloon uncle’. Him having 3 balloons in his house that she played with did not help the case any.

– I was reading a book to Buzz. The book is about 2 toddlers Mike and Jenny and a baby named Sue. No matter how many times we correct her and how clearly we pronounce her name the baby according to Buzz is named ‘Baby Soup’. She is seen trying to correct us vehemently when we say Sue over and over again.

Guess Shakespeare had it right all those years back.

*we are going to Ballu uncle’s house.

Trust issues

There are about 8 or so guys from D’s college/class who work and stay in the area, which means we have a big and strong social circle. We had all gotten together at someone’s place for lunch and talks about college and work and the economy and the latest gadgets was going on, as always.

Now we are all at a point in life that everyone has kids or is having kids. It being post lunch, most of us were also juggling cranky kids, kids ready for nap and putting kids down for a nap, which of course moved the conversation to kids. The girls got talking about how it would be nice to get a break for a day or two to just be us, the way we used to be before the kids came along. Things snowballed from there to dreaming of a two day girls only trip.

One of the guys suggested why only dream about it? Why not go, it was after all only for a couple of nights? The rest of the guys promptly supported the idea with all of them stating that it was no big deal taking care of their respective kids for 2 nights and days.

This had the guys excited that they could do the same. It would be like being back in college. Just the guys. Excited plans started being made, on where they should go and what all they would do.

Then came arguments against it all. Started with one girl not wanting her husband to go on such a trip and a few more agreed. When asked for reasons why, the answer was, who knows what all the guys would get in to. They would drink like crazy. And oh what if the guys decide to go to a gentlemen’s club?

There was no talking the girls out. And the plan eventually fizzled out. No guys trip and no girls trip. This was almost a year back.

This past weekend the guys got together at night for dinner and poker. Over dinner they started talking about heading to a club instead of playing poker. From where it moved to a few guys saying they would only go if all the guys promised not to tell any of the girls. When questioned why they said, ‘if even one girl knows the whole thing is sure to come out as part of some conversation and then there would be hell to pay for them’. Post lot of talks and leg pulling they went on to drink a glass or two of wine and play poker.

I was floored both the times, because I don’t think in these terms. For me it is a matter of trust. I trust my husband completely. I trust him to conduct himself correctly. I trust him to do the right thing. Even if D was to go to a gentlemen’s club, he knows what he can and cannot do. He knows what would offend me and where to draw a line. And I would like to believe that because I don’t put such stipulations on him is the reason why he comes back and tells me these things. I would like to believe that because I don’t make a big deal about these things is why he does not hide things from me.

Maybe I am wrong but I have a few basic questions for all the girls who don’t like their boyfriends/husbands talking to other women or put a limit to how many drinks they can have on any given day or keep an eagle eye on what they do and where they go – How do you know they are not doing any of what you so think they are capable of when you head to India for your 2 month yearly trip, or when they go out of town on business? When you expect complete and total freedom and don’t like your husband to ask any questions on your whereabouts, why do you not return the same courtesy? When your husband has never given any reason for you to doubt him, why do you doubt him? Oh and if your answer is, because guys will always be guys, why are you even with this guy?

As I said before, for me trust is the key. And I trust D totally and completely. Till he gives me a reason to otherwise, I am going to continue to trust.

Am I completely stoned here? Am I missing something? What do you guys think?

It is all about her

D: Papa achche hein? (Is papa nice?)
Buzz: Yeah.
D: Mumma bahut achchi hein. (Mumma is very nice.)
Buzz: Buzz bhi achchi! (Buzz is also nice!)

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Sunday morning Buzz makes place for herself between D and I. She follows it up by talking/playing with me. The more D tries the more she clings to me.

Buzz: Mumma, mumma, mumma
D: Buzz ko bahar le ke kon jata hei? Mumma to nahein le kar jaati. (Who take Buzz outside? Not Mom)
Buzz: (30 seconds pause) Papa, papa leke jaate hein. (Papa takes me)

Followed by sticking to D like a glue. Kisses and hugs follow.

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D is just back from the gym when Buzz gets up one morning.

Buzz: Papa, Tree-frog? (Tree-frog is the name of her class in daycare)
D: Nahien aaj chutti hei (No today is a holiday)
Buzz: Phir aaj kahaan jayenge Papa? (Then where will we go today Papa?)

D is busy wagging his finger at me to reply.

*Start digression* His biggest gripe with me is that I never ask or make plans to go out over the weekends. I must add at this point that I am the one who plans most of our long distance vacations, but I see so many day to day chores over the weekend that going out is the last thing on my mind. D on the other hand loves to take day trips and being out, close to nature in general. *End digression*

Finger wagging done, he heads to take a shower. Seeing that, Buzz runs to her room. Picks out a pair of jeans from her rack and wears them backwards.

*Start digression* This ‘aape aape’ meaning doing everything herself phase is killing me. *End digression*

After a lot of struggle, I get the jeans on her correctly and then we head down for breakfast. A short time later D comes down in his PJs. Buzz takes one look at him and starts crying as she tries to push him back up the stairs.

Buzz: Papa, go change. Go Papa, go.

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Buzz got a haircut this weekend. She had hair a little past her shoulders and now her hair hit her chin. I guess everyone who saw her at daycare commented on her haircut. A substitute teacher (ST) in her class had this to tell us:

ST walks in to the room. Buzz watches her without blinking for a good couple of minutes. After which:

Buzz: Of oh ST, Haircut!

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Yup, every single thing is about her these days. And does she know what she wants and tries to get the same or what. Life is soooo much fun for us. NOT!

Of Airports

We were sitting in the McDonald’s at Frankfurt airport. Not because of the food but because one complete wall of it was glass and faced the runway. Airplanes taking off and landing was the only thing that was keeping Buzz entertained during the 5+ hour transit time.

Suddenly D pointed out,

Look at that, even their luggage carrying trailers are Mercedes.

Sure enough every single ground control vehicle was a Merc. Now in my mind Mercedes is one of the ultimate in high-end luxury cars and to see grease covered trucks and dirty trailers at the airport from that brand was a shock to begin with. D probably felt the same way which is why he pointed it out. After we got over the shock, overload of Merc at Frankfurt airport made sense of course. German company vehicles used at the Germany International Airport.

After which the talk moved on to making guesses on what vehicle manufacturer some of the other countries used. Having never paid any attention to them anywhere before we guessed it was probably Ford in the US and Toyota in Japan. India – Maruti?

Can anyone guess or remember what India uses?

We landed in India and the answer was in front of us. And to be honest, I loved it over any other country. In India we use ‘Mahindra and Mahindra’ bright red tractors. I could not stop the grin on my face when I first saw them. To my mind if was just so perfect, so India.

Have you noticed the make of ground transport used at any of the international airports, if so please share so that we all know a little bit more.

On a side note: Have you seen the Delhi (Indira Gandhi) International Airport? If yes, is it not just amazing. If not, you should. You so should. It hands down has to be the best airport I have ever been to. So what if a milkshake there costs Rs. 700 (no kidding, it was a Häagen-Dazs shop) and I just can’t get myself to spend that much money on a milkshake, the airport is out of this world. Loved it.