Around the world in 80 clicks

A lovely lady with a very warm blog tags me. And I do nothing about it for a few days (Actually I do something aboutit. I try to sound cool in my head. But then given that my head is always full of something or the other like multicolored clips, elusive ideas, coconut oil, half-broken images, full conversations with imaginary people, tangential ideas-- like the one this is turning out be, or henna as is the case as I write, trying to sound cool has been a bhool.

(To the other very spirited lady , I do remember your tag and have it half-written out. I will post it soon.)

The tag goes: You need to post 5 things that you love about being a mom/dad) and find someone to link to and tag - someone from your own country, if you like, but definitely someone from another country ..and to leave a link to the post at HBM, who started this tag.

So the five things I love about being a mom in no definite order are

Mornings. To watch my son walk down the steps and look for me. The me wondering whether it'll be a smiling happy morning when the anda, toast, dahi, banana, milk and oats will be downed easily or whether the waterworks will take over coz someone took something from the son at daycare the day before or coz the dumptruck isn't doing the weekly rounds today. I now know that given the second case scenario, the anda, toast, dahi, banana, milk and oats plus perhaps even some cheese will be downed easily as well. My two and a half year old clearly loves his breakfast and he eats it all in a go. I am/ used to be a morning person and if I were to ask the genie for the last impending wish, it would be that I be given two peaceful hours in the morning. But needless to add, the genie has gone and so have my mornings. The son wakes up soon after I do, no matter how early the hour. I have now sometimes managed to sneek out of bed before him, relish a good hot cup of Assam tea and even take a peek at my new roses. As delightful as this may seem, my son is my real sunshine.

Grumpiness. I love that I can be a grumpy mom and no one complains. I can especially get very grumpy now when I am hungry. And then I whine when no one gives me raisins without me even asking for them.

Conversations. The most interesting ones with my little one. The ones very few will understand, so peppered they are with Hindi, English, American English, Malayalam and Spanish. Ones where when Z asks him what he wants to drink, he answers 'narangya vellam' and then asks me for a refill of 'nimbu pani'

The other side. I just love the fact that I can appreciate my parents so much more now. I really really enjoy that. Can't deny that I often think of them in my position when I'm in a fix ,a nd most times I don't end up being as cool as my mom or as hardworking as my pa, but it helps that I can really see them now as more complete people with their strengths and their flaws.

The selfless love. I was walking on the treadmill when I started thinking of the most selfless and yet the most satisfying feeling. It is when I have a good conversation with my parents. When I get and give their love. And then Pickles comes and tries his best to extend his little arm on the treadmill wanting to touch me. What does this mesh of cheeks touching, sticky tummies together and endless hugs? The one body nurturing the other? The sticking my big nose in the softest tummy and tickling the smooth and chubby neck? Oh the high of the most beautiful things I have done... becoming a parent.

The little pianos I still love to kiss

I tag Nino's Mum and would love to see what she has to say. And any one else who would like to take this up :)