And we found it!

A sweet little place to call home. It's not rich, it's not new but it feels like home. And with a little balcony overlooking a busy road.

We looked and we looked. We saw so many apartments in the last few days. Some were a straight no-no to both of us,  some places appealed more to him and others to me. Some places promised quiet resort-like stay but we thought we'd never wake up in the morning without any bustle. Some places were too posh and too plasticky, I'd never be able to call it home. Some were too full of furniture and some were devoid of any. Some just didn't have any balcony and I'd turn it down outright. Some kitchens didn't have place enough for two people to stand in. We thought we'd have to keep looking forever at this rate, but then one easy thought solved the day. Any place we'd go to see we'd picture ourselves living there. And so we found this place. I could totally picture Pickles running around in the ample space, watching outside the window from him crib looking at the vehicles on the road. I could picture myself cooking and baking in the modern yet quaint kitchen with ample space. We pictured sharing a drink in the balcony too but I'd told you about this before. R saw that there was good parking space (we all have different priorities.) and ways to get in and out of the place. It has good facilities, a pool, a gym, a garden and a playground. We ticked all our checkboxes and then gasped! This was the place.

And so, we've just signed the contracts. We'll move come end of the year. But whether all the things we pictured will come true, time will only tell.

P is for Paternal instincts

Becoming a mom was a big change for me but I guess mother nature had already prepped me for it. The instincts were there and stepping into motherhood was relatively easy and I think I was a mom the moment Pickles was born. Not that I had  a choice. I had this baby and he had me and we slowly figured things out.

I can't imagine it must have been the same for R, well not biologically at least. I have watched him slowly step into fatherhood with gingerly toes. I have seen him undergo the different stages, confusion, denial, acceptance and the slow bonding with his newborn son. It was easier for me to handle him as soon as Pickles was handed to me. But for R, he was terribly paranoid at first as he had zero experience carrying babies of that age, or any age for that matter. Slowly but surely, he stepped up, he started to volunteer to carry the baby, burp him or rock him to sleep. In the days when the routine was feed, burp, change, sleep, rinse, lather and repeat, R started to participate more actively and slowly made up his own ways as he went along.

I remember very distinctly this incident that happened when Pickles was about a couple of months old. A close friend was having a birthday that day and R and I decided to go and have lunch with friends. We thought it would be a good change for the both of us. So, we left Pickles with my mum and set off for a couple of hours.

My friend's daughter Xena is our darling. We've all been friends a long time and Xena is comfortable around us. During our lunch that day, Xena kept hopping from lap to lap, taking the time to talk  to each one of us. It was during this that she parked herself on R's lap. We continued to eat and at one point, we looked at R and burst into laughter. When he looked at us questioningly, one of us then told him, "R, Xena's a big girl now and doesn't really need to be burped."It was then that R realised he had been unconsciously patting Xena's back like he was burping her. After days and nights of doing just that, it had come to him naturally.

It was then that I started to notice this partner of mine in a different light. He has since then transformed into a Dad, and a great one at that! It just makes my heart melt to see him and Pickles bonding together. Maybe it is my hormones, maybe that is how nature meant it to be but it makes me more fond of him than I ever was.

I wanna go home

One of the hardest things I’ve had to do so far is to move away from home. From the past few days, I’ve been missing home terribly. So just to make myself feel a little better, I decided to make a list of a few things from back home that I miss most. Of course, the list is not comprehensive. It’s just what came to mind first and at thins point in time. Here goes.

· Mom’s cooking. I miss those dosas and rotis and the very fact that she would make them on demand and knows just the way I like them without me having to say anything, I miss you too, mom and not just your cooking.

· My sisters…I enjoyed sharing all the fun times, fights, not to mention the clothes with them. We did quarrel quite a lot but we shared so much, that the fights seem so insignificant now.

·  My friends, my support system. I have lots of friends back home and more importantly a few very close friends, who were my world. I miss the fun we had, all the drunken nights, meaningless laughs and all the times we stuck by each other when anyone was going through a bad patch.

· Most of all I miss my best friend, V. Though we are still in touch, it’s not the same. I can’t run to her at the drop of a hat. I miss that.

·The chats, especially the panipuris at the friendly neighborhood bhaiyya. I was a regular, almost his favourite customer. My mouth is watering at the very thought of those perfect panipuris.

·My room.  Though now I do have a home of my own, it is not the same as my room, my own space and the fun of not letting anyone, especially my sisters to enter/stay there. The secrecy was half the fun.

· My cousins. I miss how we got together at anyone’s birthday and made sure that the birthday girl had plenty of fun and gifts.

·All the regular food outlets that I used to frequent. Yeah, I know this is the third time I’m mentioning food. I love food!

·I miss my bike, my baby. We had a ball, my bike and me.

·           I miss the feeling of familiarity, the feeling of being “home”. No matter how long I stay here or how many people I get to know, I’ll still be a foreigner. Or will I?

     Everybody says that things change with time and you will start learning to call a new place home. I’m not so sure about that. I’ll let you know in a few years. But I’m sure that even then I’ll still miss home as much as I do now.