Category: What the kid said or thought.

Shine on!


Most important conversations in my family occur during dinner. This one did too. While telling us the ‘highs and lows’ of his day, Ryan’s face fell and those sparkly eyes darkened.

“I had a very low time today. I felt bad about it for most part of the day”. He said.

We waited quietly for him to continue.

“Some friends called me dim and not smart like them because I don’t belong to the high level of math that they do. I only work on grade level!’

He must have seen my face because he quickly said to me, “Its OK mom! I feel better now. I have already forgiven them in my heart. I thought of Jesus on the cross when he looked up in heaven and said ‘Forgive them father for they know not what they have done!’ I followed his example and I forgave them!”

I was angry. I was angry at those children who made my son’s heart hurt. I was angry at their insensitivity. I didn’t want to acknowledge that they too are seven year olds, and they speak their minds. They haven’t perfected the art of diplomacy yet. My first reaction was anger! While my seven year old son’s first reaction was sadness and then the spirit of forgiveness. I was humbled instantly.

Ryan’s spirituality is intense, honest and simple. With the precious innocence that only little children possess he has gleaned the core truth from the unnecessary complexities of faith espoused by dogmatic religious fanatics. God, to him, is like a universal parent to all. A parent, who is omnipotent, omniscient. When he goes to steal a cookie, behind mommy’s back, he stops himself thinking, even if mommy doesn’t know about it, God is watching. God won’t give him a punishment but he will be disappointed. Like most children, he aims to please, and like most, he fears the disappointment of grown ups and God.

I feared about the intensity of his faith at one point. I have said before, true faith is a thing of beauty but there is a fine line between being faithful and being high handed about one’s belief. I want my children to grow up with a mind which doesn’t fester in narrow minded thoughts but one that lets in the fresh breeze of new ideas and beliefs. I want them to not simply accept, but question, argue and be inclusive of all that is right and all that need to be righted.

Ryan’s thoughts on the role of women and homosexuality is so poignant in its simplicity that it indeed makes one think ‘What is so complex about it?’ He believes God loves all and all his children are equal in his eyes. So why can’t women become priests in most religions and what is the problem with a human loving another, no matter what gender? Seriously! What indeed is the problem! If a child of seven years can look at the issue with such pristine clarity, why can’t the learned grown ups? Why do we analyze God’s love so? His simplicity in faith is something I aspire to achieve and the world would be a better place if more and more people just focus on their love for God instead of judging others’ love for Him.

It took me time to understand my boy. I remember reading a book to him when he was no more than five or six, where a pigeon takes it upon himself to drive a bus and gets in all sort of trouble. The last question of the book was, should the pigeon be allowed to drive. The obvious answer to that question was an emphatic ‘no’ for all the mayhem he caused. Ryan responded with a ‘yes’, he should be given a chance to drive. Everybody deserves a chance and maybe the pigeon will do better next time.

His thoughts were, and still are, unexpected. I listen to his responses, his explanations on life and its working and pause to ponder upon it. He has a depth in his thinking which belies his age. He has that unique combination of wisdom and innocence. He asks me if ‘other than me’ do we have any maid service since most of his friends have cleaning ladies to clean their house. And he asks his dad, a week prior to his eighth birthday,

‘Dad, am I who you expected me to be?’

The one word that comes to mind when I think of my son is joyful. He is so utterly and completely full of joy in his little life. He has the ability to find joy in the simplest of things, like a line of ants marching by, or a wild daffodil growing in our backyard, or the action figure that he takes to bed with him. It seems like he possesses an inner light that keeps his soul shining brightly. I often wish I could borrow some of his light to lighten my inner being on a particularly dark day. He does share his light with me so I can send positivism out to the universe I interact with. He is like a drop of golden glitter on the canvas of my life and the glitter keeps spreading and glowing, making my life sparkle with joy.

He came home on Valentine’s Day with a bunch of little cards from his little friends and one big anonymous card. It was a written by a child, that was obvious. It had a red heart inside. The message was short yet meaningful! A second grader had written to him:

Ryan, thanks for being there!

That is the kind of man, I hope he grows up to be, who will be there for another in his/her time of need.

I asked him on the eve of his birthday, “How does it feel to be growing up Ryan? How does it feel to be you? How has the ride been so far?”

With his usual cheer, he replied, “Great mom! The ride so far has been just great. I had to make a few pit stops once in a while but I filled myself with gas, and then I was ready to go. I was back on the ride again – all the way to heaven!”

Hope you have a long, joyful ride, son. Hope your ride to heaven is of course, very long, but never monotonous but filled with all the wonders, all the joy, some challenges, some sorrows but predominantly happiness and color and spirit that you carry in your heart and that you radiate to the world around you.

Happy birthday, child. Shine on!!

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N’DOI….for ever, D’DOI…never!!!


It was a perfectly sane moment for once. Like a very ‘together’ mother, for once I was focused in kitchen work and the task in hand (chopping cherry tomatoes, I believe). Like a regular, relatively sane seven-year old, Ryan was making his action figure do impossible feats, while softly mumbling heroic things like “CHARGE” and “SOAR” and “TO THE RESCUE” ! The dog, like any other relatively sane lab mix was sniffing around for food and intermittently putting his long snout and wet nose between Ryan and the action figure to find out which exact crisis the rescue hero was currently engaged in. Sahana was in the ‘I am a rock, I am an island’ mode – sporting the ‘hiding in my room, safe within my room/ I touch no one and no one touches me’ attitude.

All of a sudden, the peace was broken with a shout of this word:

‘N’DOI!!!!!!’

I startled, and looked back at my son. The dog stopped in mid yawn, scared. Ryan had taken a ninja stance (or I think he did), one leg up, two arms half spread, fingers doing the rap singer type curl, head tilted at a forty-five degree angle, shouting N’DOI in a deep baritone. I mean, as much of a deep baritone a seven year old can muster.

“What are you saying? Keep it down. Inside voice please!” I reprimanded him, convinced that it is some form of gibberish that is meaningful only in his dream world, where he spends a considerable amount of time. He went back to his game. I went back to my cherry tomatoes, dog went back to his yawn. Sahana stayed in her ‘I am a rock..’ zone.

But N’DOI in deep voice didn’t leave us. It was uttered and often – much to my amazement. The word was now accompanied with a self smack on the head. It was cute the way he puckered up his lips, rounded his eyes and hit his head when he said ‘N’DOI’. I looked on with an indulgent smile, giving him a kiss when he did that, ruffled his hair, told him how cute he was….till I found out what it meant.

At dinner table, I heard a soft rendition of N’DOI again, complete with a soft head smacking. It was such a constant in Ryan’s vocabulary, I wondered what it meant to him.

“What does N’DOI mean darling? Does it have a meaning?” I asked, all smiles.

Ryan didn’t deem the question important enough to answer or maybe, his sister beat him to it. Sahana, in her usual patient, ‘you are so out of touch, mom’ voice explained to me the meaning of N’DOI!

“Mom, n’doi is a sweet way of saying DUH!”

“WHAT??”

The word “duh” is not entertained in our house by either of the parents. We find it demeaning and simply don’t see the need for anyone to be using it.

“You have been saying the word all this time?” I rounded on Ryan, stern.

“NO, I didn’t say the word. I said N’DOI!” He defended himself.

Ugh! But it conveys the same meaning. It is not the word, it is the weight it carries, it is the meaning it conveys. He didn’t get it. Mom said not to use the word duh, he didn’t. He followed the rules. He just used a replacement word to mean the same.

“Mom, N’DOI is not bad. It is not a mean way to tell people they are dumb. It is actually endearing. But watch out for D’DOI. If he says D’DOI, that is mean! That is hurtful way to tell people they are dumb! As long as he is not saying D’DOI, we don’t need to worry!” Sahana pacified me.

I believe, like “What the heck?” “Oh my gosh” “Sugar” and many, many others, DUH has found a replacement.

Ok, FINE! N’DOI – you are excused. But if I ever hear D’DOI – you are grounded…till kingdom come. You have been warned.

More laugh lines for mama over this one.

A rare crowning glory moment.


I am probably my harshest critic (except when it comes to cleaning my house, only then do I give myself a well deserved break 🙂 ). I over analyze my answers to the children, I try to reason with them, I try not to hover (which, unfortunately, is my natural tendency), I give them room to make mistakes and  encourage them to learn from the same. I set myself to pretty high standards, which, most of the times I can’t achieve, then I feel guilty. I know, I know, it is a vicious cycle. Life is a work in progress, I am working on it. I say to self, ‘Self’, I say, ‘Take a deep breath and calm down! If you are late in dropping off your child at a football practice by ten minutes because you had to pick up your daughter from swim practice, it is OK! The world won’t really stop spinning!’

As I parked the car in the football field to pick up Ryan, Sahana asked me a question as she unbuckled her seat belt:

‘Mom, how do you do it?’

‘Do what?’ I asked.

‘Tell us ‘no’ and we listen. No questions asked. How do you make us listen?’

‘No questions asked’ is stretching the facts a bit. Questions are asked and more than I care to answer them. I also explain my reason for saying ‘no’ to certain requests to the best of my ability. When arguments, talk backs start, I put my foot down and say ‘Because I said so!’ Parenting books will condemn me for that. So be it.

‘You guys ask questions before you accept ‘no’s!’

‘Yeah, sometimes! But we know that when you say ‘no’ you mean it and we accept it. How did you make this happen? I want to learn. I want to be a parent just like you!’

I will be honest, that made my heart sing. Standing ovation in a full auditorium can not compare to what I felt in my heart at that moment. I just got my report card and guess what? Straight A’s!

“But when I say no to something you really want to do, you get angry, don’t you?” I probed.

“Yes, but that is just the irrational me then. Now it is the rational me asking you how you do it? Tell me, I will do the same to my children!”

What I said to her is not the main objective of this blog. Some time ago, I wrote a blog about how Ryan asked me if having them was the most difficult decision in my life. I was crushed thinking I made them feel that way by complaining and whining about the stresses in life. Last night, I felt validated. My love was shining through. They saw it! My teenage daughter wanted to emulate my style of parenting.

I know my joy is short-lived. We will have conflicts aplenty and often. But I will look at them as her ‘irrational’ moments. I will cherish these fleeting rational moments for now and garner strength and joy from them to keep my composure when the teenage turmoil flares up and I become the meanest human on earth again!

I happen to be a red light!


Seven year old Ryan was upset with me. Very upset. He held an Angry bird hat in his hand at a store, pleading his hard hearted mother to buy it for him. Mother was firm, the house could not handle one more hat. The cup (of hats) runneth over………in our house. Moreover the branded products are pricey. ‘Take the money out of my bank account!’ He offered.  ‘No way, Jose! As your mother, it is my moral duty to teach you financial responsibility. I can’t let you throw your money away over something like this. The answer, still is no! Please don’t argue anymore!’ Mother was losing it, fast!

While waiting in front of the fitting rooms where his sister tried out school clothes, Ryan came up with one of his thoughts ‘Mom, I have thought of something!’

‘Wonderful! Would you like to share your thoughts?’

‘In every family, the mothers are harsh, dads are fun and kids are in training. I think mothers are red lights, dads are green lights and kids are yellow lights. The kids could go in any direction depending on who’s training them. The girl kids are trained by the moms so they grow up to be red lights while the boy kids are trained by dads, and they grow up to be green lights.’

‘What???’

‘Yes, see how Sahana is a cranky teenager, she is a yellow light almost turning red under your training. I will turn green because I am being trained by dad to be the fun one!’

Ouch!

After shopping for clothes, I took the children out for lunch and allowed them the ‘unattainable’! A soda to go with their meal. Not coke or pepsi, mind you, just an orange soda! My soda deprived children couldn’t believe their good luck. Ryan, whose way to the heart is through his stomach, was almost giddy with joy. It was then that I asked him the important question. ‘Do you still think mommy is the red light in the family?’ I know, I know…I went deep sea fishing.

The boy didn’t miss a beat, ‘Well, soda is bad for us, daddy doesn’t approve of it, but you are allowing us to do the wrong thing anyway. So I guess you are still the red light!’ I was so tempted to stomp my feet and sulk at that!!! I did it mentally just to get it of the system!

After lunch, we headed to the car, the red light in the family turned the ignition on to head back home. It was a no win day for the mom lady, one measly hat, or rather refusal to buy one measly hat had ruined me….for the day. That is when my aloof teenage daughter decided to shine a ray of sunlight on my dismal day, ‘Mom, just so you know, I don’t think you are a red light at all. You are a very green light for me!’ I gave her a big, wide grin and a grateful thank you. My pride was salvaged, somewhat. I looked at my son through the rear view mirror, since I was expecting a full blown debate over my red light/green light traits of character. But he had tuned us out already. He was sipping his orange drink cautiously with such obvious joy that I was about to turn green for him. But I have a feeling he wouldn’t have acknowledged my greenness unless I drove back to the store and bought him the hat. The regret for not getting his 59th angry bird hat was running deep.

‘What is the most difficult decision that you made, mom?


My son asked me a question this morning that shook me out of my complacency that I was doing a semi decent job of parenting. This morning, between ‘Ryan, hurry up and eat’ and ‘you will miss the bus today’ he asked me, ‘ What is the most difficult decision you ever made in your life, Mom? Was it having us?’ That question stopped me in my tracks. It may not have all the implications that I am projecting on it, but it shook me to the core and made me see myself through my children’s eyes.

I am their anchor, their stability and the constant right now. And I know they love me. But they also see me stressed, angry, harried, tired, not in my best state. They have heard me groan when I see a school holiday on the calendar. They have heard me complain that the kids were driving me up the wall. They have experienced me yelling at them, nagging them to change their behavior, clean their rooms, pick up after them.

It is not unusual, therefore, for Ryan to infer that maybe having them was the most difficult decision that I ever made. That was my performance evaluation right there and I was graded poorly. It was a shock because parenting is my primary job at the moment and this is the impression I was creating.

He couldn’t be farther from the truth. Sean and I decided to see the world and travel together before starting a family. But when we decided to raise a family we were absolutely ready. Of course, when Sahana came along, we didn’t have any idea how or what we should do with her. See, she didn’t come with a manual! But we figured it out eventually. By the time Ryan made his appearance, we were pros. Having them was truly the easiest, the most natural decision we ever made. I had just mentioned to a friend, not too long ago, that I have found the calling in my life, being a mother! I enjoy it the most! Then….this!

After searching around for a few minutes for the perfect response to reassure my boy that they were the best things that happened to me, I apologized. I apologized to him for making him feel that way. I said everybody needs to work on their shortcomings, my shortcoming was my impatience. I try hard to be patient with them and I will continue to try harder. That opened up a floodgate of meaningful conversation. Sahana admitted she pushes my buttons sometimes and aggravates Ryan knowing it will end up in a fight. Ryan said he will work on focussing more on his school work. Distraction is his shortcoming, and that is a new word he learnt. Then our seven year old theologist went on to share his idea on the life we lead. He said life is a walk. Mom and dad have started walking early, Sahana started walking a little later, Ryan, even later than Sahana. Everybody starts their walk when they are born. The unborn babies are still at the starting line. Mom and dad will probably reach the finish line first, before them. With that thought, he asked me to please turn on the radio to his favorite station. The house filled up with music, the conversation ended. My mind filled up with the depth of his thoughts and the feeling of being extremely lucky and blessed to be nurturing two precious beings and seeing them bloom.

But his question did disturb me. I don’t want to behave in a way where my children feel having them was the most difficult decision. A lesson learnt, time to take stock and focus on that personal growth, mama!

We saved two baby birds…or tried to!


While we were sleeping one night, a storm came and turned our world upside down. We woke up to a backyard filled with leaves, branches and sticks. We also woke up to an eerily quiet house. The hum of the refrigerator and white noise of the air conditioner were unhappily absent. We had no electricity. The thermostat was already at mid seventies in the early morning, threatening to rise above hundred degree Fahrenheit as the day progressed. The calm morning belied the devastation that nature wreaked upon us the night before.

While picking up sticks and leaves from the yard, Sahana and Ryan discovered three very young baby cardinals in our yard. One of them lay still, the other two were fighting to stay alive. Both the children being avid animal lovers, turned to us in tears, “What can we do? The babies will die if we leave them here!”

We had no answers, of course. Nature can be harsh, sometimes these calamities take lives, those babies are beyond help, sorry but we have to accept their fate – these sort of reasonings were blown away by the tender hearts and streaming tears. Both cried harder, pleading to their ‘all powerful’ parents, “No please! Don’t say that! We can’t give up on them! We can’t let them die. We can bring them in, feed them and give them water!”

The birds had just hatched out of the eggs, their eyes weren’t open yet. Sean and I stood there watching the laboured breathing of the babies and listening to the tearful pleas of our human babies. I looked up to see the daddy cardinal, in all his red splendor, fluttering around from one branch to the other. The unassuming brown mom twittered in agonizing helplessness. At that moment, I could relate to the helplessness of the bird parents. They were helpless against the harshness of nature. I was equally helpless in shielding mine from the harshness of this world where death, agony, pain, suffering are very real.

Sean and I slowly headed back. Hearts were heavy, we failed the children. Despite the sass and attitude we get, both the children still turn to us to find a solution to life’s problems. Their confidence that mom and dad can figure out a way to save the baby birds, and our failure to do so, touched us both. Then Ryan came running in, tears streaming down his face, “Please, please help them mom. The ants are biting them, they are suffering. Make their suffering stop!” I simply had to try to do something, for the faith he has in my abilities to ‘stop the suffering’.

We got a flower-pot, filled it with leaves, picked up the surviving cardinals with other leaves, careful not to leave our scent on the babies and put them gently in the make shift nest. The parents were still watching. Sean balanced the ‘nest’ securely on a high branch. We stood below with fingers crossed that the parents would take over.

Ryan insisted, much to the amusement of his sister, that we should have fed the babies some ‘ketchup’! Why ketchup? Well, ketchup is the only food that he could think of that has the same consistency of the regurgitation that the birdie mom and dad feed their babies. He also told us somberly that saving baby birds was much more important in the scheme of things than going to a picnic when we urged him to get ready to go to Sean’s office picnic. He stood there for a while keeping an eye on the nest up on the tree, turned around and said he was going to offer a prayer at church for the long life of those two birds.

For Ryan, I still have all the answers. That is not the reality, it is his perception of his mother. For Sahana, I still have the answers to questions that matter – again, her perception of me. Their faith truly overwhelms me with gratitude and love and at the same time, scares the living daylights out of me. I am sure the day is approaching soon when I will NOT have all the answers. I sincerely hope that by that time, they both will have learnt answers to some of the questions and more importantly, they will  have learnt to explore the right resources to search for those answers.

Their grieving at the imminent death of the birds reminded me of Gerard Manly Hopkins’ lines:

Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;

Sahana and Ryan will not cry their hearts out for fallen baby birds for very long. Even if they don’t shed tears, my hope is, they will still turn around to look at the fallen, bend down to pick them up,  give them a shoulder and never ever stop trying to ‘stop the suffering.’

A little humility….please!


Nothing traumatic happened to me in my childhood to make me the way I am, when it comes to humility. It is somewhat cloying, for want of better words. It is one of the lesser attractive traits in my character. My parents taught me the usual mantra ‘let the world tell you are good, you just do the right thing’. I try to follow the second part of the dictum, I try to do the right thing. But when the world tries to tell me I am good, I fight it. I posted a picture recently which attracted very generous comments from friends and relatives. Instead of gracefully thanking the kind people, I got into my usual habit of telling them why I look good in that picture – ‘the sun was on my face’, ‘Sean is a good photographer’, ‘the camera is good, makes anyone look good’ etc. The folks who commented on that photo must have thought, ‘Oh dear, what did we get ourselves into?’ My children, however, are completely on the other end of the spectrum when it comes to humility.

I want to write a few incidents that show the humility, or lack thereof, in my children. The first one was when Ryan was five years old. He was in a swimming class, the instructor was lining them up to swim a race. Ryan was waiting next to a little girl, whose dad was taking this 5-year-old swim race a little too seriously. He kept advising his daughter how she should move her arms, kick her feet with all her strength, how she should charge the wall at the end of the race. The girl had tuned the dad out long time ago,  but dads don’t pick up on these signs as moms do. There, I said it, now accuse me of stereotyping!! The poor dad was going on and on about focus, determination etc. If I wasn’t getting a kick out of the speech, I would have tuned him out as well. Now, since both my children are crazy competitive, all I say to them before a race is, ‘try your best and have fun’! That particular day, I didn’t even say that. I didn’t need to, Ryan was listening intently to all the dad was saying. Once, when he found a break in the dad’s lecture, this is what he said to the poor man, ‘You know, I am going to beat her!’ First, I couldn’t believe my ears, then I felt a heat emanating from my reddening face. I believe I hissed at Ryan to be quiet and listen to his instructor. The dad was quiet, I was quiet also, debating in my mind whether I should apologize for my son’s nonchalant rudeness. I have felt embarrassment  a few times in my life. This incident is somewhere there at the top of the list.

Couple of weeks ago, Ryan hit a triple in a baseball match. He swaggered back to the dugout, took off his helmet and told his teammate sitting next to him, ‘Go out and hit a triple like me!’ This incident was narrated to me by the other boy’s dad. I was at a loss for words, yet again. Finally, after some mental gnashing of the teeth, I managed to say, ‘Yes, we need to work on modesty!’ The dad was a good sport, he said, ‘Well, Ryan certainly backed up his statement, he went out and hit a triple – a second time!’ He hit two triples in a game. That is a big deal to a seven-year old. While walking back home, I congratulated him on his good performance and then broached the subject of humility.

‘Ryan, it is wonderful that you hit a triple but don’t tell others to go and hit a triple like you! You can wish them good luck and say hope you have a good hit!’

He looked up at me and said, ‘Why? If they hit a triple our team will win!’

“Yes, but don’t say LIKE ME!”

“Why? I hit a triple!”

I gave up at that point. His words were not laced with malice, the innocence was precious. I thought I would make some other time a teaching moment, and let him savor his success.

When Sahana was younger, I found her standing in front of the mirror singing ‘I am awesome, I am awesome!’ in different tunes and intonations. I told her I thought she was fantastic, but I would really like to know why did she think she was awesome? She said, ‘Because I am!’

Sahana, a couple of years ago, was talking to a girlfriend, when I called her. She didn’t hear me, I called her again, saying, ‘Sahana, you can’t hear me?’ Her girlfriend turned to me and said, ‘No, she couldn’t hear you because she was talking to ME and I am awesome!’ I was dumbstruck by the comment of this 10 year old. When I got my wits back, I thought in my mind, ‘Poor child, we need a reality check here. I fervently hope the world thinks you are that awesome, or else, you will have to deal with a lot of mental baggage when you grow up!’

I love the fact that my children have a strong sense of self. I am fortunate because some parents have to bolster the sense of self in their children. But I worry that this ‘strong’ sense of self doesn’t become ‘inflated’ sense of self. Sahana and Ryan are confident, young people and I love that. But I also worry that failure at something may crush them. It may sound terrible coming from their mother but I want them to taste failure once in a while. I feel it is important to learn that failure at anything does NOT mean the end of the world. It DOES NOT mean one is worthless. It just means you work harder and do it the next time, or the next. I strongly believe it is important for every individual to know and appreciate their worth. I am working on it. At the same time, it is also important for us to know what we need to aspire towards, to become truly awesome. I wonder if we are teaching our children that lesson? With participation trophies for everybody, everybody is a winner. But in reality, there is only one winner. When they reach adulthood, will they be able to deal with NOT necessarily being that winner? Will they have it in them to pick themselves up and TRY to be that winner? And if they can’t, will they move on to other things and win other battles in life, even if there aren’t medals and trophies waiting for them, only joy and satisfaction?

We need to strike a balance where we tell the children they are fantastic and special. Every single one of them are unique and the grown ups – parents, relatives, educators, counselors, coaches have the responsibility to nurture their uniqueness yet keeping them grounded to reality. We have the responsibility of teaching them that they can work on the qualities that they already have to BECOME their best! They have their whole life ahead of them to learn, practice, experiment, fail, learn again and WORK towards who they want to be in life.

Mom, please behave so daddy doesn’t divorce you!!!


Ryan’s first grade class seems to be a hotbed for romance lately! Wonder what it is? Spring? Anyway, we are getting loads of information at dinner table on crushes, love, couples and singles. And I plan to enlighten you on all those topics. So here goes.

Crushes are ‘when you are in love with somebody but that person doesn’t know about it.

Love is when both parties know that they love each other.

Mommy and daddy are a couple whereas Sahana and Ryan are still single, but when they grow up they will find someone and become couples.

And lately, we have been talking about divorces….a lot. One of Ryan’s friend’s parents got divorced recently, and the friend has to move out-of-state with one of the parents. This incident has hit my boy….. hard. He has started asking me, often, if his dad and I plan to divorce in the near future. If so, what will happen to him and Sahana!

I share a wonderful relationship with my spouse, we hardly have disagreements except when we are rooting for our football teams. At that point, all bets are off. Its war! But, other than that, I never disagree with him provided he always agrees with me:)! Fortunately, we seem to share a lot of similar ideas on different issues that are important to us and there is hardly a discord that doesn’t get solved with a little bit of ‘talking it out!’ Hence, I was baffled by Ryan’s insecurity. Interestingly enough, he always asks ME not to disagree with dad, so dad doesn’t leave us.

A couple of nights ago, I decided to take them for a treat at a frozen yogurt place. Sean was not too much in favor of the adventure since it was late and they had whined a bit. But I had promised them earlier, so I decided to take them anyway. Ryan was stressed the entire car ride. I could tell he wasn’t enjoying himself. Finally, he asked me, “Mom,
do you think Dad will divorce you now, that you took us out when he didn’t want you to?” If I wasn’t driving, I would have wrapped him in my arms and kissed his fears away.

So I did the next best thing, we talked about it. I told him sometimes grown ups don’t get along, they decide to go their separate ways, but they always love their children. That never goes away. And it is never the children’s fault that parents divorce. The grown ups sometimes feel they need to live separately to be happy. But his daddy and I get along just fine and we will not get divorced.

Just out of curiosity, I wanted to know why he always thought daddy will go away since sometimes moms make that decision too. He pondered upon it for a while and said “You are nice!” I knew he couldn’t express his feelings since Sean, for him, is definitely the preferred parent. Sahana summed it up for him. She said, “I think daddy travels a lot, we don’t get to see him much, but you are always with us, you do everything for us, so we can’t see you just leaving us and going away. But since daddy is away a lot, it is easier for us to think dad can leave!”

When we stopped at the yogurt place, Ryan got out of the car, still somber and thoughtful and said, “If you guys do get divorced, I will go with whoever will take me!” My heart just about broke. I got a glimpse into the mind of a child who may be in the middle of a divorce or a custody battle. What torment that young mind goes through – the insecurity, fear, guilt, incomprehension of the grown up world.

I try my best not to trivialize their fears or mortifications. Although they sometimes seem meaningless in our adult world, they are very real in their world! I try to address the fears and try to find an answer (operative word here being TRY)! We do the usual catching the nightmares in a box and emptying it outside, opening closet doors and checking under beds to make sure no errant monster is lurking. When all fails, we sing praises of the monsters and talk about how adorable they are. Who doesn’t love Elmo and Grover? So I dealt with this fear the usual way – talked, reassured! Unfortunately, the fear of monsters are slowly but steadily giving way to fears of more tangible things in life, like poverty, divorces, animal cruelty, abuse, and finally, the huge mystery of death. Ryan is slowly becoming cognizant of the fact that there is a lot of sadness juxtaposed with the happiness in this world. In life, there are a lot of uncertainties, lot of insecurities. He is looking around him and he is not seeing a bed of roses. This loss of innocence is inevitable, I know. I cannot save him from this, probably shouldn’t try to either. But what I can and will do is assure him that his dad and I will try our best to be anchors in his life, TRY our best to keep the real sadness at bay for him. We will do everything in our power to give him a rose garden, but still there will be those occasional thorns in his path. We will hold his hand and help him bypass those, on his way to the grown up world, till he himself is ready to let go of our fingers.

My favorite drink is Bud Lite, what else?


‘What is your favorite drink, Mom?’ Ryan asked me as our car passed by a liquor store. ‘I love mango Lassi, what’s yours Ryan?’ I asked politely since I knew he was bursting at the seams to tell me.

‘I love Bud Lite, yup, my absolute favorite!’ answered my seven year old son.

My husband and I exchanged glances. Both our children are very anti – alcohol, so far! Two teetotaler’s son loves Bud Lite the best, that too at age seven!!!

Last night, Ryan watched college football with his father, the games were sponsored by Bud Lite. The dudes drinking Bud Lite were portrayed as the best humans who ever graced the face of this earth. They were good looking, intelligent, good friends, popular. Of course, Bud Lite would be the drink of choice, if Ry could become as cool as those hunks. The power of advertising.

Sahana burst his bubble, ‘Ryan, Bud Lite is an alcoholic drink. You want to drink alcohol? Yuck!’

‘It is ALCOHOL???’ His face fell, ‘I thought it was a type of lemonade! Then I don’t want it!’

I didn’t say a word but I was giving silent high fives to Sahana. She can be a very positive influence on her brother. Once, I heard Ryan singing this song in his loud clear voice

I don’t know where you are going,
Just get your ASS back home!

Very concerned at his song choice, I asked him if he knew what ‘ass
back home’ meant. Without missing a beat, he said, ‘Yes, Sahana already explained to me. It is get your S back home. S stands for self, so they are saying ‘get your SELF back home!’ Oh, the joy! Mama made a mental note to give the girl an extra hug for her presence of mind.

Anyway, when he heard Bud Lite was an alcohol, Ryan was seriously depressed. He had a very unpleasant encounter with alcohol and since that incident he has vowed never to touch alcohol again in his entire life. Hallelujah! I am thinking of recording that declaration and playing it when he comes home after downing a few in his teenage!

Last Christmas, his uncle was raving about the fruity flavor of a certain expensive wine, the name of which I do not recall. Sean and I refused to try a sip despite the accolade but Ryan insisted he wanted to try it. His uncle let him. Ryan took a big gulp expecting something delicious since the grown ups were praising it so. His face turned bright red, his mouth puckered up and he spit the wine out into his sister’s bowl of pasta with a look of utter disgust and horror at the foul-tasting drink. Then he started to cry. He had never tasted anything so distasteful in his life!

That incident hopefully has scarred him for life – against alcohol. And his dad and I always tell him how he could be that special person who his friends will always love and cherish – their designated driver. He is buying  it …..so far!

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