tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85083182644543128502024-03-13T11:57:17.013+08:00From Miss India to MotherhoodAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.comBlogger140125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-91836036948656388282015-08-03T11:35:00.001+08:002015-08-11T21:47:05.835+08:00After-school activities - Finding the right balance<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNCmUB8atssnW9bXx8oj4C-J3G6kHgWxHacEql10TDlndAQkTfph6AOnTe7asrnFx25md668s7epuPDEAaIoZQEML5sE7egyXq2l1RNRnmHZfMr3pFln3wj1eJ3JtRq55AxULV4qvkb9Jn/s1600/kids_football_games_tackle_220093.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNCmUB8atssnW9bXx8oj4C-J3G6kHgWxHacEql10TDlndAQkTfph6AOnTe7asrnFx25md668s7epuPDEAaIoZQEML5sE7egyXq2l1RNRnmHZfMr3pFln3wj1eJ3JtRq55AxULV4qvkb9Jn/s320/kids_football_games_tackle_220093.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">"<i>Finally!</i>" I sighed and put my pen down. It had taken me three full weeks to research, plan and finalise the activities for my children to do this summer. It sounds easy but isn't so. I had to find a perfect combination of their interests, abilities, their needs and the classes offered. Take into consideration feedback about the classes from other moms, their location, the timings. I wanted to have a good balance of creative, mental and physical activities for both my boys, so as to give them a good outlet to burn their energy as well as incorporate some mental fun. I took into consideration their likes but also wanted to include their 'areas of concern'. That done, the forms were filled, cheques were mailed out and confirmations received. <b>We were set......or so I thought. </b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Two days into the 'Activity week' and "<i>Why do we have to go for creative writing everyday?"</i> That was my younger son moaning, just out of bed. I stopped what I was doing. I take these statements very seriously. Now my son loves writing his own "books." He takes some A4 sheets from our printer, makes me bind them together and spends a good amount of time setting his creative juices flowing into a fiction write up that he proudly displays to everyone. Wouldn't a course on creative writing guide him on writing good grammar, focus on spellings and punctuation, help him produce a better quality and what's more - a real book, as they even publish the books at the end of the week? But no, he wasn't happy. There goes my elder son, all dressed in his football kit finery. Thankfully he <i>does</i> like his football class <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><i>except</i> when they make them do a lot of drills, which <i>'gets boring</i>' or tiring, or when he loses a match, or when the referee isn't fair, then he <b>hates</b> it. Then it becomes <i>"I don't like this football coach/class?</i>" And again, I take it seriously. I mean first of all what is it with these kids nowadays, they never seem to be satisfied with anything in life! And secondly <b>why do I have to take my job so seriously? </b></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today's generation, at least in this part of the world, doesn't have half the pressure of school as we did in our times. Everything is about fun and play. Maths is fun, so is English and the rest of the subjects are non-existent as they study the IB way, where learning is centred around units of inquiry. So instead of copying copious notes from the board or listening to the monotonous drone of the teacher like we did, they get to think, research, analyse and form their own opinions. Sounds good but <b>aren't we empowering them too much, too soon</b>? After school instead of the endless homework and preparation for exams like we did, they get to go for after-school activities. Sports, music, art - they have a plethora of choices as eager parents sign them up even before the term begins to ensure they get a seat. Everyone wants their child to be a super star in his own right and don't think twice before spending their precious resources or time in doing so. And what do we get at the end of day? <i>"I don't want to do it. It's so boring!"</i> Really? </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">One might say that they would like to rest and relax after a <i>hard</i> day at school. They would like to do their own thing. Sure I say! Read a book, play a board game, get your Lego set out, but no. <b>It's only technology that seems to smooth their frazzled nerves,</b> bring peace to their tired bodies as their fingers are itching to touch the I-pad or fiddle with the Xbox controller! Refuse these and watch them have a Mortal Kombat fight with each other with pushes, punches and good hard kicks, till I am ready to pull my hair out or put the plug in for that PS3 game! <b>Since when did parenting get so difficult?</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: inherit;">No wonder after-school activities are getting so popular! I used to laugh at mums pushing their kids to do after-school activities. There was no difference between weekdays and weekends with the kids running around blindly from one activity to another. <b>Now I've been bitten by the 'activity bug!'</b> It's an annoying bug that keeps buzzing behind my ear, asking me to do things that others are doing, challenging me, asking me if my children are as smart as others, as capable as others and as competitive as others. Somebody's kids are doing intensive piano lessons, some kids are doing 'tennis for fun' for whole three weeks and to beat it all some children are are sitting in China doing a Mandarin immersion program for all 6 weeks of their summer! Now tell me, <b>do my kids stand a chance against these brilliantly coached kids </b>who would be facing them one day either in a struggle for places at University or vying for that coveted position in a Corporate office where dual language is a must? Wouldn't my kids then wish that their mother should've equipped them more, sent them for more classes to hone their skills while they still had the time and resources? Am I doing enough for them as their mum? </span></div>
<div style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I remember summer holidays just a few years ago when I would make a list of fun things to do in the city, merrily ticking off each one as we explored museums, parks, beaches, take ferry rides, go for trail walks, bicycling, scooting just for fun. <b>They would happily trail behind me, ice cream in hand, excited about the bus ride that they were about to take! </b>Was life so simple just a few years ago or was this stage just inevitable, waiting to happen at the 'right' time! </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Sitting here in this coffee shop, I am waiting for them to finish their drama class so that I can take them home and drag them for their swim class after that, lunch meant to be eaten on the bus. It may sound cruel and honestly</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> I am not a big fan of sending kids for activities specially during the holidays when they do need a change from routine. <b>But if it's activities vs technology, activities vs sibling fights, activities vs lethargy, then activities it is! </b></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But what one tends to overlook and maybe need to draw a line at is deciding how many activities are too many? While it's nice to keep the kids busy it is equally important to give them time to play, experiment and rest by <b>'not overdoing'</b> it. If by the middle of the week they are still not liking drama that means that they really don't like to put up an act or standing out on stage. If after doing piano lessons for a year if they are still complaining about having to practice that means that they just do not have a ear for music and are not going to give those recitals that you dreamt of one fine day! <b>Each child is different and every parent must be ready to understand that </b>and find his/her true passion and equip them with the ability to do it. Observe, talk and use your instinct to find out what works and what doesn't. Sometimes changing a class or teacher helps, sometimes giving up that activity is the best decision. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I think we have had a reasonably good mix of activities this summer. First three weeks of holidaying in Canada, followed by a week of additional holiday with grandparents visiting us, and then two weeks of planned activities like football, swimming, etc. Now we are going to have the last week absolutely free. I am going to be as ready to go to the playground or go bicycling, as I would be to settle into my arm chair and read a book at home doing nothing. Leaving this last week's planning to my children and see what they come up with, jointly hopefully and without the punches! And yes, I am going to continue taking my job very seriously, no doubt about that!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><b>Ah motherhood! Weren't the nappy changing days so much easier?</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-12358133062710337002015-07-30T13:39:00.000+08:002015-08-11T21:49:51.152+08:00Road trip through the Rockies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFrFP0vuPGHs_kTWCUaxK1vp_nYaeSEL2UjCDNs0uLFgFoDhKiWIsdXeuXBV8Ce1d4nt7QZ1QEf2vvUEiOkYFiuFPXc4KqPqMR8fWuQi3LJxuhdMazZq4dfi2cjG-HjNY2soYCbZO5jAfg/s1600/IMG_6995.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFrFP0vuPGHs_kTWCUaxK1vp_nYaeSEL2UjCDNs0uLFgFoDhKiWIsdXeuXBV8Ce1d4nt7QZ1QEf2vvUEiOkYFiuFPXc4KqPqMR8fWuQi3LJxuhdMazZq4dfi2cjG-HjNY2soYCbZO5jAfg/s320/IMG_6995.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>"Oh my God, just look at that!"</i> I exclaimed out loud just as we approached the little cottage where we were meant to stay for 3-nights in Jasper, Alberta. We were tired, hungry and exhausted after our <b>13 hour road journey </b>from Vancouver to Jasper, but one look at the beautiful cottage and all our fatigue slipped away replaced with excitement and anticipation. In fact the entire grounds of the hotel were Looking around we saw many more such cottages neatly placed in the greens. They reminded me of the witch's cottage in the </span>fairy tale<span style="font-family: inherit;"> 'Hansel and Gretel' where <b>the house is made of ginger bread, the roof of chocolate icing and the walls of candy! </b>I sent a silent vote of thanks to our Uncle M who lives in Canada and had strongly recommended this place and had also helped us book it. Tekkara Lodge, as it is called is situated pretty close to the Main Street in this magical town of Jasper, surrounded by majestic mountains and mystical woods with picturesque lakes. </span><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<a name='more'></a><br /><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Jasper was the first destination on our road trip through the Rocky Mountains in Canada. Now I have done a few road trips in the past - mostly in England and also in Scotland and Wales, but my very first road trip was the one to <b>Kashmir in North India</b>, 34 years ago, when I was only 6! I don't know why but it's this particular road trip that kept occupying my mind the whole time and I couldn't help comparing it to this one. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Our Canada road trip had all the planned benefits of tried and tested 'things to do', 'places to visit', 'restaurants to eat,' had the comfort of staying with family and friends, hotels with good reviews, list of dos and don'ts and a planned itinerary. <b>The road trip to Kashmir was as unplanned as a piece of blank paper, which we kept writing on as we did our journey.</b> There were no reviews read, roads mapped or friends and family waiting at the other end. There was no connectivity while we were on the move either, no mobile networks, no GPS guiding us. It was all based on paper maps, basic instincts and the local people guiding us. It was a journey that had to be completed from one sleepy town to the other, enduring hunger pangs when the distances became too long or sleeping in the car when no hotel was in sight. Pot-holed roads, </span>tyre<span style="font-family: inherit;"> punctures, mosquito filled motel rooms, wrong routes taken, getting stranded without fuel were just some of the challenges faced. And while </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I have great memories of that trip I am not sure if I would enjoy doing a similar one with my kids in this day and age. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3iRWIlBaXL19ETxtLiPvRNE8zAZz-jZhznKRmrpcjOJO99Y8NbRLNEtGZqKfkEqcWmAYc9dXfftyklFxJfwn3k7N4cKXJmLe_W63YCDKicTXrfnCRx2z0iBkJF_Qe1H2tZMpPb9R08jul/s1600/IMG_6848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3iRWIlBaXL19ETxtLiPvRNE8zAZz-jZhznKRmrpcjOJO99Y8NbRLNEtGZqKfkEqcWmAYc9dXfftyklFxJfwn3k7N4cKXJmLe_W63YCDKicTXrfnCRx2z0iBkJF_Qe1H2tZMpPb9R08jul/s200/IMG_6848.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Up the steps of Grouse Grind</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">staying in a dear </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">friend's beautiful home in Vancouver and taking full advantage of her hospitality that one can only do with a childhood friend, we started our Rockies road trip on Day 3. Oh by the way, before I forget, the <b>Grouse Mountain </b>hike is an absolute must in Vancouver. Involving 2830 steps which are more like gravel and earth in most parts, it was sheer enthusiasm of our boys that kept us going /covering each quarter as the 1/4, 1/2, 3/4 signs came up. It is one of my trip highlights. Do read my <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/ShowUserReviews-g181717-d156264-r291975126-Grouse_Mountain-North_Vancouver_British_Columbia.html#REVIEWS" target="_blank">review on TripAdvisor here</a>. </span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJBxUlKCuEvcuPF0cZz2NKEwMm6PmQqhzIesn0nMHRYOx61TxdHYJNFoc-bvzhkOo3Aert1WHtOU4oNH4FrIA_CePJDWfqMEbL_W55-xgyoHZzcCaSSMGxp-9bhPk8dIAoIClp0Xz5m9j8/s1600/IMG_6853.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJBxUlKCuEvcuPF0cZz2NKEwMm6PmQqhzIesn0nMHRYOx61TxdHYJNFoc-bvzhkOo3Aert1WHtOU4oNH4FrIA_CePJDWfqMEbL_W55-xgyoHZzcCaSSMGxp-9bhPk8dIAoIClp0Xz5m9j8/s400/IMG_6853.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the top of Grouse Mountain</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So coming back to Day 3, we made an early start close to 8 o'clock to begin our <b>775 km journey from Vancouver to Jasper.</b> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Armed with enough food, water and snacks to feed an army, we drove through the city of Vancouver following the directions given by GPS which as we later realised was taking us on a longer round about journey than through the shortest route! We soon abandoned it and followed the clearly given road signs, reaching a place called Kamloops for lunch where we had a delicious meal at a restaurant called Prime Lounge and Grill. The journey continued with pit stops only to stretch our backs or to take photographs of the beautiful topography as we entered Rocky land! I dozed off quite a few times happy and secure in the knowledge that my husband was a good driver and was enjoyed driving. In fact he did a terrific job all throughout our trip giving me the car only a couple of times when he just couldn't keep his eyes open. I took on the reins but was a bit shaky as I had never driven a left hand drive car and certainly not a high speed highway. But my husband encouraged me and my younger son agreed to our swap only after confirming that I would be able to drive as fast as Daddy! I soon got the hang of it and cruised down the beautiful roads with a sense of purpose. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3i4zQ_pBYjnr5JjVL7JNjsI7_-TrA0S-cEBA1K8AyJ5ojO_6hYNZVe_VPbosGMgAMxJIT083UqYv0pmsJwhZw3hE6A9kdIWgzTVQenmCfSM1E7cHfKsxpQCwIu1qR6h3fkD_OS_4Js_qq/s1600/IMG_5242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3i4zQ_pBYjnr5JjVL7JNjsI7_-TrA0S-cEBA1K8AyJ5ojO_6hYNZVe_VPbosGMgAMxJIT083UqYv0pmsJwhZw3hE6A9kdIWgzTVQenmCfSM1E7cHfKsxpQCwIu1qR6h3fkD_OS_4Js_qq/s400/IMG_5242.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCpSSz6YXw2Mi5a_J7sJzcJASW3zvbVcI8T_HEvoAXYw9l88rDYVh8jVN2m9if-2BsyjHxAjCxk0noSpzHEtwT4-ZkVDpVTrS-G6Sdc4Ef_jeIfX-zcONzIL5w2GQGpEz06wFiuBdazc3T/s1600/IMG_7006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCpSSz6YXw2Mi5a_J7sJzcJASW3zvbVcI8T_HEvoAXYw9l88rDYVh8jVN2m9if-2BsyjHxAjCxk0noSpzHEtwT4-ZkVDpVTrS-G6Sdc4Ef_jeIfX-zcONzIL5w2GQGpEz06wFiuBdazc3T/s400/IMG_7006.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maligne Canyon</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I can't remember sleeping so well and till such a late hour as my husband gently woke me up at 9:30 am the next morning. "9:30!" I screeched as I had planned to leave the hotel by 9 to start our extensive sight seeing and activities planned for the day! After all we couldn't disappoint Uncle M who had planned an extensive itinerary for us giving us all details possible from distances to weather and clothing tips to recommended time of start and finish! As I drew the black out curtains, sunlight streamed in. It was a beautiful day and brought a smile to my lips as I got out of bed. Our first stop was itinerary </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Maligne Canyon</b> where we did a nice, easy hike taking tons of photographs of the topography and of ourselves too!</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Tired and hungry we decided to have a leisurely picnic in a scenic spot sitting on a fallen trench of a tree. As I was about to take the first bite of my delicious avocado and cheese sandwich, my elder son jumped up shouting <i>"Ants, ants!" </i>And we realised that we had disturbed a whole colony of angry, red ants who were busy stacking up on their food right underneath our bottoms! We soon abandoned our scenic spot plans and went to the nearby cafe patio to continue our little picnic. </span><br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We then drove to <b>Medicine Lake</b> where I enjoyed basking in the sun while my husband was busy dipping his feet in the crystal clear water along with the boys. This is beautiful lake and a must-see for anyone visiting Jasper. Our next stop was Malign lake where we stopped for some quick souvenir shopping. We had to hurry back to town as our itinerary mentioned a place called <b>Miette Hot Springs</b> which was a bit further away and it was already late evening. The good part about visiting Canada in summer is the extended daylight that it offers. It was 7 pm but looked and felt like midday! we had to go up a long, windy road to reach the springs which happened to be temporarily shut due to rain. However our efforts were not in vain as they opened up after 20 minutes and I am so glad I waited. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUGb5x9yCtLfqQurU7sxrNaPfB97CuxJkk4TjFj_WBp_veTXqIH_1m1CT-y1K8RqpnoEVJa6jTfG-zopmswjdCuj1Y9Ss6ZO-N9atwhfUHubxJHPqY4ur-6tG0TGl3ItS_QnI2YM8Ajuwe/s1600/IMG_7066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUGb5x9yCtLfqQurU7sxrNaPfB97CuxJkk4TjFj_WBp_veTXqIH_1m1CT-y1K8RqpnoEVJa6jTfG-zopmswjdCuj1Y9Ss6ZO-N9atwhfUHubxJHPqY4ur-6tG0TGl3ItS_QnI2YM8Ajuwe/s400/IMG_7066.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miette Hot Springs</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">There were four different man made pools holding different temperatures of natural spring water, ranging from 20 to 40 degree Celcius. At first I did not even bother to try out the cold ones as I stepped into the nice warm water and relaxed. However I got a feeling that the people in the colder pools looked happier, so at the insistence of my husband and children I stepped into the coldest pool rather tentatively and it took my breath away! I continued going in, one toe at a time and finally immersed myself completely. I thought I would run out but I was surprised that I liked it in there! After that I took turns alternating between hot and cold and thoroughly enjoyed myself. Again a trip highlight! </span></div>
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1lYRU_4IywdLEgVXpExbXFtSSsRGGH-lg3roMHCNc1O_0R6cw51c_P8EXzDax-PBPh-_A6isI7FPkDQtqa6EmhFGc8BgXHVh_malprz50FKx1sWt-O94OWxP8UgwYWvPD-NikOyhPv7XQ/s1600/IMG_7029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1lYRU_4IywdLEgVXpExbXFtSSsRGGH-lg3roMHCNc1O_0R6cw51c_P8EXzDax-PBPh-_A6isI7FPkDQtqa6EmhFGc8BgXHVh_malprz50FKx1sWt-O94OWxP8UgwYWvPD-NikOyhPv7XQ/s640/IMG_7029.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maligne Lake</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The first half of our next day in Jasper was spent </span>spiraling<span style="font-family: inherit;"> through the mountains reaching the base of a beautiful glacier on a mountain called <b>Mount Edith Cavell</b>. I love the way each mountain in the Rockies had a name and had a story to tell. This one was named after an English nurse who was executed for helping Belgians and the English to escape during the German occupation in Brussels. Mount Edith being a dominant peak was still covered with snow in an interesting striped pattern during the summer. While the glacier has receded significantly over the years, there is still a significant part left for us to see for another hundred years. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinEGzO4BDzauzC7kj67i-QjloO1aWZEQYusixwRyEHPdUZJ_SZxF1zU8czEn2SLgyzDgLiL9ULjEVerG4cbrEKklme7gGfpCeiCLQZ71VuyMESKKavw-C3qfB0tydrDdaY9AFFlTLxpp6I/s1600/IMG_5362.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinEGzO4BDzauzC7kj67i-QjloO1aWZEQYusixwRyEHPdUZJ_SZxF1zU8czEn2SLgyzDgLiL9ULjEVerG4cbrEKklme7gGfpCeiCLQZ71VuyMESKKavw-C3qfB0tydrDdaY9AFFlTLxpp6I/s640/IMG_5362.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The afternoon was even better spent in the middle of an icy cold raging river. With an oar in my hand and the bright hot sun in my eyes, our inflatable boat bounced up and down to the rhythm of the gurgling water and our hands rowed or rested depending on the instructions given by our guide. This was my second white water rafting experience and one that I would remember for a long time. </span></div>
<div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2K7lviNAC9TP1Q2TUiWr8-OkJwR1wd3XaUKwFw5aTAhONpT9CYXDb988eMMDm-CgAFwcnPfiLZYp18_c_-NU2WicCdawSZdaRAfz-1qscYdQoOK4YD81nOupUa7f65XTBIfkdaPCityvi/s1600/afalls-1530-nico-bridget-oliver+039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2K7lviNAC9TP1Q2TUiWr8-OkJwR1wd3XaUKwFw5aTAhONpT9CYXDb988eMMDm-CgAFwcnPfiLZYp18_c_-NU2WicCdawSZdaRAfz-1qscYdQoOK4YD81nOupUa7f65XTBIfkdaPCityvi/s400/afalls-1530-nico-bridget-oliver+039.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White water rafting in Athabasca river</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The glee on my children's faces, who were sitting in the first row along with my husband, as the icy cold water splashed on their faces<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">, the rude shock of the same water splashing on me for the first time and the camaraderie shared with the other family in the raft, make us believe in the fact that it's the simple pleasures in life that give you the most happiness. </span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfE0QfxwDnenZwJuaapkXTqVpZFPSvRG5pzv4M_zAFql_t1e_Z4fJmznWl18b5sYWylfAlzsHs0ov1iRhGgdQfU2JZsvxwrgDRqWuL9kZTbwbowqg6J2uY9U7pUfiPnDA0P-CDXBDmF2GX/s1600/IMG_5461.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfE0QfxwDnenZwJuaapkXTqVpZFPSvRG5pzv4M_zAFql_t1e_Z4fJmznWl18b5sYWylfAlzsHs0ov1iRhGgdQfU2JZsvxwrgDRqWuL9kZTbwbowqg6J2uY9U7pUfiPnDA0P-CDXBDmF2GX/s320/IMG_5461.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Driving his ice explorer truck on the glacier!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0tt2or_pOssoArzWu9kc43aH6ztKVGdhwvNScmsGOVoVXbodZlLmQTT5DM2SjxfyJ6v2lx5vmWPdUoGOIl65eOD85wutf07Mlyyn8CdVYJiU_ew3-DIgCw2eWypalg31fRPuLnu_m44MM/s1600/IMG_5472.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0tt2or_pOssoArzWu9kc43aH6ztKVGdhwvNScmsGOVoVXbodZlLmQTT5DM2SjxfyJ6v2lx5vmWPdUoGOIl65eOD85wutf07Mlyyn8CdVYJiU_ew3-DIgCw2eWypalg31fRPuLnu_m44MM/s320/IMG_5472.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Standing tall on 100 m thick ice!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Early next morning we reluctantly checked-out of our little haven to head further east towards Lake Louise. Our tightly packed itinerary had Canada's favourite tourist spot to be seen en route. Columbia Ice Fields Glacier Adventure is a big tourist attraction and we were advised to go there early as parking gets difficult. We got lucky and found a decent spot at midday when we arrived. We bought the combo ticket for Skywalk and the Glacier Adventure. Skywalk </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">which is a cliff edge walkway platform wasn't as 'adrenaline feeding' as marketed, instead I really liked the taped recording on the radios offered that took one through each history of Rockies, it's fauna and flora and gave other interesting details as one walked down the path. The glacier itself was a completely different experience. The boys were super excited to try it out, my younger one specially having bought a toy Ice Explorer truck that was meant to take us on the ice. On our way there we had a friendly guide who gave some interesting and funny facts about the local area. Apparently there are only 23 such trucks in the world, 22 with them and 1 truck in Antartica used by the scientists. We went down a steep incline before we landed on the ice where we were given 20 minutes to walk around and take photographs. The whole experience was surreal and again a must for a tourist. Numbed in body and mind by this event we continued driving. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAe8K8oixPHwUqBqTP6Yep85GaLoSt_0Q0txtzZtiNYEosHoZU2lSY7wUgzvE5gSsppQnBfXFL_hbT5-tGzrdaRH3iWpwQ7yJTCnVYob0i6UFHCCmZZoWzWwa0_mI0kKKAAhC3yvsc8G1/s1600/IMG_5477.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAe8K8oixPHwUqBqTP6Yep85GaLoSt_0Q0txtzZtiNYEosHoZU2lSY7wUgzvE5gSsppQnBfXFL_hbT5-tGzrdaRH3iWpwQ7yJTCnVYob0i6UFHCCmZZoWzWwa0_mI0kKKAAhC3yvsc8G1/s640/IMG_5477.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Columbia icefield</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">At around 7:00 pm we reached our next destination. The Great Divide Lodge in <b>Yoho National park</b>. We were thoroughly spoilt in terms of accommodation so far and the very ordinary rooms in this very ordinary hotel did not appease us much. Thankfully we just had to spend one night here. One thing I must say that works for the hotel is that it overlooks the beautiful Wapta lake which we used amply as a background for our family photographs the next morning. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We then headed to yet another tourist destination called Lake Louise. Tucked into the base of impressive glacier peaks in Banff National Park, the beauty of this lake takes your breath away as you scramble from end to the other trying to decide which is the most beautiful spot to a take a photograph, My suggestion - do not pose in front of it, this lake is to be photographed solo with your camera and memorised with your heart. It was a nice sunny day and we were in the mood of yet another challenging hike. Well challenging for us and 'moderate' for proper hikers.There were many different trails to choose from and we chose the <b>Lake Agnes teahouse hike</b> which was 6.8 km return. Turned out to be a good decision as it was perfect for our family of four all having a different need. The husband was rewarded with </span>breathtaking<span style="font-family: inherit;"> views of Lake Agnes at the top and also a waterfall flowing out of the lake. He did not think twice before dunking his sweaty head into the icy cold refreshing water and almost drank it too! </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My elder son was </span>ecstatic<span style="font-family: inherit;"> taking pictures of the local fauna and flora with his own camera, my little boy happy just running up the slope and wading in the lake and me of course with the fitness the hike offered not to mention the feeling of being one with the Rockies we had gained quite an elevation. But the best of all was the walk or should I say run down the trail on our way back as we were caught in a sudden downpour! Another trip highlight! </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJTSpTVNBVIkc3PHT6H8m9-hPiYVrG1A48wI6zFFqQFyvZ9GNfCv9ynCkrdgyfHQGQ94OH1L9wvOLSmC4ptNOUTEA_tgbC2oafAPg4MjZtP0k9lCSfV7cKcb-3xpThyphenhyphenQ4gRPnHi_k2ELzN/s1600/IMG_5688.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJTSpTVNBVIkc3PHT6H8m9-hPiYVrG1A48wI6zFFqQFyvZ9GNfCv9ynCkrdgyfHQGQ94OH1L9wvOLSmC4ptNOUTEA_tgbC2oafAPg4MjZtP0k9lCSfV7cKcb-3xpThyphenhyphenQ4gRPnHi_k2ELzN/s640/IMG_5688.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Moraine</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">What's a road trip without souvenir shopping so the last one hour was spent buying goodies, a Canada apron, a </span><b style="font-family: inherit;">Lake Louise</b><span style="font-family: inherit;"> magnet, traditional Indian art, a maple leaf Christmas ornament and even an antique looking back-scratcher! After a few more hours of driving we ended our road trip at M uncle's place in Calgary. I felt a tad bit disappointed not beng able to see the majestic Rockies along with us anymore, but any feeling of disappointment was quickly made to vanish with bear hugs, a real home and piping hot home made Parsi food!</span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOrVX4j2ew2OcmkVn2v_-kRMz4mWRnuLz6yEktagc2BaAvIIp-p9zPuFs1QJBzoGmBOUQr799K7-c28STn0tw987r2avjFA_iIluwdSJVZKNdxmP5IoFP_JXfA1VuPQsSY73cy7zRHJyW/s1600/IMG_7142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOrVX4j2ew2OcmkVn2v_-kRMz4mWRnuLz6yEktagc2BaAvIIp-p9zPuFs1QJBzoGmBOUQr799K7-c28STn0tw987r2avjFA_iIluwdSJVZKNdxmP5IoFP_JXfA1VuPQsSY73cy7zRHJyW/s400/IMG_7142.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mirror Lake</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">So what makes a road trip? People? Relationships? A car? A road? Maybe its much more than that. Filled with l</span>aughter and tears, m<span style="font-family: inherit;">usic and silence, arguments and agreements, </span>chaos and peace? L<span style="font-family: inherit;">ots of photographs, road maps, pit stops and fuel stops. Exhilaration, excitement, fatigue, boredom. Where are we going? What are we looking for?<i> Just enjoy the journey </i>I would say, <i>the destination is bound to come anyway! </i></span></b></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ObYe2RACZ3yFubJQyagvPxZbplb6YZW3kUJ51G02lEKajsar1R5WQH5WI_9OESflYewAyrM0O4Me9ZdNYtpxi-l4cpPnHMgk8vrWV9wRgGfWGngww-brG-P7SiDAttZv924jSKue-T5y/s1600/IMG_7099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ObYe2RACZ3yFubJQyagvPxZbplb6YZW3kUJ51G02lEKajsar1R5WQH5WI_9OESflYewAyrM0O4Me9ZdNYtpxi-l4cpPnHMgk8vrWV9wRgGfWGngww-brG-P7SiDAttZv924jSKue-T5y/s640/IMG_7099.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-68545656021096842882015-06-07T11:23:00.000+08:002015-08-11T21:51:13.597+08:00Leaving the nest - are you ready?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq4oDEFhXV7lASVOsoltNWveJ4sadxMw25peLRjMtVLZd4Ks-U4pBmJ_na6y1eIw_W3bl2s47g7BMqgMIa8c1JmNOCHomRWqm9LKIGHG8AFmmOCBRix_hfDUYF9a7WGYAZNzycEhExLFw4/s1600/emptynest3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq4oDEFhXV7lASVOsoltNWveJ4sadxMw25peLRjMtVLZd4Ks-U4pBmJ_na6y1eIw_W3bl2s47g7BMqgMIa8c1JmNOCHomRWqm9LKIGHG8AFmmOCBRix_hfDUYF9a7WGYAZNzycEhExLFw4/s320/emptynest3.jpg" width="320" /></a>It's 5 pm on a weekday and I am roaming around the busy <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2012/09/i-am-lover-of-small-boutique-shops.html" target="_blank">street markets</a> of Central. I still have another two hours to go before I need to pickup my younger son from his play date. I keep looking at my watch from time to time, certainly not used to having these kind of "free" evenings to myself, specially on a weekday, unbelievable! No, I am not complaining, Its just that I'm not used to this new sense of freedom after being a <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2013/11/i-am-housewife.html" target="_blank">stay-at-home mum</a> for so many years while bringing up the boys. I <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">glance at my watch once again. It's 5:10. Get a grip, I tell myself and enjoy your evening out! You know what, let's just be honest here, used to or not used to, morning or evening, I just LOVE being a full-time stay-at-home mum! It has been my job of choice for the past 10 years and I have always taken my job very seriously, so what if I am not paid for it? It's the one thing that I can claim I have authoritative knowledge on, one area where I can give reasonably sound advice when asked for based on all my years of trials and errors <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2012/12/raising-children-or-champions.html" target="_blank">raising my children</a>. So my question is "WHY AM I ASKED TO QUIT?"</span><br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My boys are now 11 and 7 years old and I am slowly and reluctantly moving away from the title of a 'young' mother. They are independent, confident and almost everything that I have been working hard towards <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">all these years. At their age they no longer need to have mommy's presence for a<a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2012/05/playdates.html" target="_blank"> play date</a>. They go directly from school in their school bus and then have to collected much later. In fact my 11-year old doesn't even need that as he can <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2014/11/let-him-go.html" target="_blank">get home all by himself</a>! And what with all the hormonal changes he's been going through and the strong need for independence it seems like we are in the 'getting ready to leave the nest' phase already! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My son will go to secondary school next year. In fact a good part of the year went in training him how to travel alone by <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2012/09/roller-coaster-ride-streets-of-hk.html" target="_blank">public transport</a>, at least in our local area. We are at the very end of the <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2012/06/end-of-school-yearagain.html" target="_blank">last term in school </a>before the holidays begin, which is not just end of term but also end of Primary school for him! If I close my eyes I can clearly visualise him holding his teacher's hand and very bravely walking along with her towards his <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2013/08/all-set-for-big-school-now.html" target="_blank">Year 1 class,</a> turning around just once to wave his teary-eyed mum a goodbye. Was that really 6 years ago? The boy who would come running into my arms when the school bell would ring, the boy who cried his heart out when I was late in picking him up one day after school, is it the same boy who now walks into my house, throws his bag with one hand and grabs the newspaper with the other, completely unaware of the the fact that his mother is standing right in front of him with a big welcome smile on her face that slowly fades back to tight-lipped exasperation. And after a full ten minutes I hear a <i>"Mummy...."</i> I perk up, thinking now it's my turn, he's ready to give some time to his mother, but <i><span style="font-size: large;">"umm.......what's for snack?" </span></i>Really! Is that what my job role has been reduced to? <i>Feed on demand</i>, I was ordered by my pediatrician in no uncertain terms when he was just born. What he didn't tell me is that this command doesn't come with an expiry date! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Imagine you are in a corporate job, in a role that you have been very comfortable in for a good number of years, doing well, happy with your job, happy with life. Then suddenly comes in the new management (in our case 'hormones') bringing in organisational changes, re-structuring, roles being axed, or made redundant. There is chaos and confusion everywhere as employees wait for their turn one after the other. I am going through the same dreaded feeling. After</span> almost 10 years in service with a few necessary changes in my job profile, <span style="font-size: large;">my role is now going through a big change</span>, bringing in lesser responsibilities and more free time on hand. You would think <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2013/06/me-time.html" target="_blank">free time</a> is good, but it also means that you are no longer needed or not important enough in your organisation. Just wait till my younger one moves to secondary then this job would become totally redundant! Of course they'll need me around later, my more experienced friends tell me, don't we always<a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2014/05/only-mother.html" target="_blank"> need our mums? </a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A word of advice to all those young stay-at-home mums out there, do yourselves one big favour in the middle of the chaos that reigns over your household today, start thinking about what you are going to do once they leave the nest. It could be something you were doing before you had kids, something you are qualified in or something totally different. I have a post graduate degree in business management and today I am an entrepreneur and a <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2014/06/trinity-certtesol-course.html" target="_blank">teacher</a>. Believe me, I had never thought I would be doing this when I first started working but it's amazing to discover this <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2012/05/changing-priorities.html" target="_blank">whole new side of myself.</a> I love being able to run my small business from home selling casual western wear to like-minded mums and friends. I am passionate about these clothes that I source from India and am almost always wearing them myself all through the long, hot, humid Hong Kong summer. I even branded it <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2014/09/summer-has-its-own-facebook-page.html" target="_blank">SUMMER</a> and have been using my marketing skills learnt all those years ago at b-school! Teaching however is a completely new world though and I gave it a lot of thought and hands-on practice before I decided to be one. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I love what I do today and it is holding me in great stead as I work part-time while still being able to manage my household and family. Sooner or later I know the scales would tilt the other way and instead of trying to re-discover myself at that time, when motivation would be low and age certainly not on my side, I would have a firm base to stand on - one that I can dive from into a whole new ocean of possibilities and opportunities!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>So, are <span style="font-size: large;">you</span> ready? </i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-16937048183724608942015-04-27T21:24:00.000+08:002015-08-11T23:39:14.857+08:00Guinea is a guinea pig - the perfect pet!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8vbmSFu1uqLPSr3dEMycJqLc5F6X444VvdkYTcR86E7ZXpBebqscjZIxbfttsTptBSEwwPjnUw9wcgb5GyGR8KR2fNEh3YbAUOSn5rzu5vNxhYxa0uHEKyK5Zna7FVOUT96HnWjKgras1/s1600/IMG_5352.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8vbmSFu1uqLPSr3dEMycJqLc5F6X444VvdkYTcR86E7ZXpBebqscjZIxbfttsTptBSEwwPjnUw9wcgb5GyGR8KR2fNEh3YbAUOSn5rzu5vNxhYxa0uHEKyK5Zna7FVOUT96HnWjKgras1/s320/IMG_5352.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Guinea the grazing pig</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>"It's a guinea pig,"</i> </span>was the answer to the frown on my face as I stood next to a cage closely observing the resident specimen. "Ah a <i>guinea</i> pig," I automatically responded as if I knew inside out of this species. Honestly although I knew of guinea pigs I didn't know what <i>exactly</i> they were - hamsters, chinchillas, mice, just the same - all rodents. <i>"He is the school pet,"</i> I was told, the same school that I work in part-time, <i>"and available for the children to take home over the weekends."</i> Oh nice, I thought, that could be the answer to all my pet problems. My sons have been asking, pleading, demanding for a pet since a long time and I've always maintained a firm NO, because <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">with no help and with our constant travelling it was just not possible to have one. But imagine if one could bring home a pet for a weekend, for holidays, and then hand him back over right back when school starts or when we travel - how convenient! But hold on, a guinea pig? My comfort level with house pets was limited to <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2012/05/my-kids-before-my-kids.html" target="_blank">dogs</a> and cats or possibly cute looking rabbits. This mouse-looking creature with its beady eyes, long claws and sharp teeth was not something I was eager to take home. Well that's besides the point, I told myself, he was only available to children not to teachers so I didn't have to feel guilty about not taking him. <i><span style="font-size: large;">"You could take him home too if you like,"</span></i> my thoughts were interrupted by the teacher's voice. "Oh.....hmmm......yes......my boys would certainly love to have him/her.....it" but would I?</span></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjouCvhlh4U5OcfJyzXa5KU3ubV8r5AOMO7lfMmBG83h3vMoV85ma7xq76BcDcad3YB9xC0zw9zhqV9oIWofh_S8PO2yUVqaCZqcMWuLtnBXK_IL0mloKv2slf-vz9KghG9dxP7SYDGuUO8/s1600/IMG_4932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjouCvhlh4U5OcfJyzXa5KU3ubV8r5AOMO7lfMmBG83h3vMoV85ma7xq76BcDcad3YB9xC0zw9zhqV9oIWofh_S8PO2yUVqaCZqcMWuLtnBXK_IL0mloKv2slf-vz9KghG9dxP7SYDGuUO8/s1600/IMG_4932.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Guinea sailing on the Titanic!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After making silent promises to myself to take Guinea (that's his name by the way) home one weekend after the other, a couple of weeks just passed by. Meanwhile I was trying my best to get friendly with him, petting his head, lifting him up from the cage and running my fingers through his long, smooth fur, but taking care that he doesn't get too close to my fingers.<i> "What does he eat?"</i> I asked. <i>"Oh he's a vegetarian, loves his broccoli and carrots." "Oh I see," </i>I said. For the time being my fingers were safe. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-pBLxlcEtE_etzBeeOgqMjppQTbyRqBX0nv7DaMZMp-pmc46TOU6QkkTNotubkwxzk0JeI0S2j2qOwlni19Cd-XJSNTW1CU_GhRcUfGy8XPhC0w3uIySmXwLYZamlelnK99tvYPTO-Nr9/s1600/IMG_4917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-pBLxlcEtE_etzBeeOgqMjppQTbyRqBX0nv7DaMZMp-pmc46TOU6QkkTNotubkwxzk0JeI0S2j2qOwlni19Cd-XJSNTW1CU_GhRcUfGy8XPhC0w3uIySmXwLYZamlelnK99tvYPTO-Nr9/s1600/IMG_4917.JPG" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Having his early morning snack</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was almost after two months that I had the courage of finally taking him home. It was more to watch my children's faces shine with excitement than anything else. So one Friday when I met the boys after their school bus drop, I said <i>"I have a surprise for you boys! Can you guess what?"</i> I got all kinds of answers from <i>"A cake! A toy! Daddy's home!"</i> They had no idea, absolutely no clue about the furry little pet who was waiting at home for them. When we walked in through the door, they couldn't believe their eyes and after three nights of Guinea living with us, I finally understood why people kept this rodent as a pet. We learnt that Guinea had his own ways, mannerisms, sounds to let us know when he was hungry, when he wanted to play and be petted and when he just wanted to be by himself. Of course looking up Google fast tracked that awareness tremendously! <span style="font-size: large;">I was always worried that something might go wrong, we might lose him somewhere and never find him or that we might step on him or he would choke on something and I wouldn't know what to do. </span>But thankfully so far we have been accident-free. We did "lose" him once in the house and no amount of "Guinea, Guinea" shouts got him out. After a panicky fifteen minutes we found Guinea sitting quietly at the back of a toy basket! Phew! It was quite scary. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjni_n_pL1DeKgQsHXVA1AOsGzMtdFyok8BYLL08v3GovlEHKhoTMrtVBbVenPiuicEo_7RVCaOZqnJ7VtSVNjb6-VIkYXAk8kkXf8UH7WHZ_3u5YwClAq64xJgfzQCvI6W92u-wGdnez6P/s1600/IMG_5351.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjni_n_pL1DeKgQsHXVA1AOsGzMtdFyok8BYLL08v3GovlEHKhoTMrtVBbVenPiuicEo_7RVCaOZqnJ7VtSVNjb6-VIkYXAk8kkXf8UH7WHZ_3u5YwClAq64xJgfzQCvI6W92u-wGdnez6P/s1600/IMG_5351.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Deciding whether to come out and explore</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">His visits became more and more frequent from weekends, to four days in a row, to having an opportunity of spending an entire holiday together during the Chinese New Year break. He was better than any play date. There were no arguments, no bickering and no extra dinner to be cooked! Instead of having to find activities to keep the boys busy, I had to actually make deals with the boys to get them out for dinner sometimes! They were just so happy being at home with Guinea. From crawling races with the kids to sailing on the Titanic, to facing a fierce dinosaur, Guinea did it all effortlessly. And his kindness was returned in good measure as my sons took utmost care of him. My younger son always gives him his meals before he could eat his own, would always make sure that his water bottle was refilled, helps me clean his litter and make his 'bed' and also gives Guinea a good brushing session, though I think Guinea isn't too fond of this last bit of pampering. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But what I really found fascinating is how in the span of a few days, Guinea has managed to weave his way into our hearts. Sitting contentedly on my lap as I work on the computer or being my son's reading companion as he reads his book or being a comfort blanket to any one of us who needs some quiet time away from human influences, Just holding him in our arms, feeling his silent purring would soothe our distraught nerves. It is such a delight to hear Guinea talk to us, demanding food, specially early in the morning, the minute she hears someone walk by her cage. Lying in bed I hear my 7-year old chopping carrots to feed her, while I silently pray for the safety of his fingers! My favourite time with Guinea is late in the night when the boys are fast asleep and the house is quiet and peaceful. I think Guinea senses this too as he jumps out from his cage willingly wanting to explore his surroundings, making soft squeaky noises as if he is telling to me about his day. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Whenever Guinea is with us, I love the fact that I have someone whom I can say a <i>Bye</i> to when I go out or a <i>Hi</i> <i>Guinea</i> when I am back. For his tiny size and almost absent voice, I don't know how Guinea can manage to fill the house with his presence. So much so that after he goes away, we still tend to enter the house saying a "Hi Guinea'' automatically and then noticing the empty space where his cage is normally kept. Yes we do miss him, quite a bit actually, but no before you can start giving me advice, I am still NOT getting any permanent pet into this house, For now our Guinea is the perfect pet!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br /></i>
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN8g_D2h0-Z_yCMqGr5RFbmXg4FbefL15UpwQKn9Kbo8oA-_pkxA5MnlScTLOV0sqb1feynqHGcndfJPYZQSAEmuIBjWqltXXdLZOT1C9lkAx1B2JN_Tk9HBb6LIn2-w8zCpL0u8Yrp45y/s1600/IMG_4969.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN8g_D2h0-Z_yCMqGr5RFbmXg4FbefL15UpwQKn9Kbo8oA-_pkxA5MnlScTLOV0sqb1feynqHGcndfJPYZQSAEmuIBjWqltXXdLZOT1C9lkAx1B2JN_Tk9HBb6LIn2-w8zCpL0u8Yrp45y/s1600/IMG_4969.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">PS: Although I have written this post assuming Guinea is a boy, there are chances that he could be a she. At least both my boys are convinced that Guinea's a girl, so next time he/she comes home I am sure to give him/her a closer look......with Google on the side of course!</span></i></div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-14504704337215230832015-04-10T15:31:00.003+08:002015-08-11T21:59:02.492+08:00Our family holiday in Sam Roi Yot, Thailand<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKbh8dTIoScXucN80agO3PSm6JRq-fclsj6k_KsxOnE8EpiQqWGkFgdsLsGZRXvTXJVxKq0vnLYCyBQNZShDXk11zJXLkz1QeJt85JAZJkolqW8Rn5SFACyupR6gCjuzgC_8QsJAuq8SA/s1600/IMG_5700.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKbh8dTIoScXucN80agO3PSm6JRq-fclsj6k_KsxOnE8EpiQqWGkFgdsLsGZRXvTXJVxKq0vnLYCyBQNZShDXk11zJXLkz1QeJt85JAZJkolqW8Rn5SFACyupR6gCjuzgC_8QsJAuq8SA/s320/IMG_5700.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sam Roi Yot - a view of the beach across our resort.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Sam Roi Yot, yes that's where we went to for our family holiday this Easter break. Not the better known Koh Samui, or Kota Kinabalu, or Hoi Ann or Phnom Pneh, but after all my globe trotting efforts on the web, this small, lazy town which is 256 kms South <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">of Bangkok in Thailand is what I chose, The reasons were fairly clear - I wanted a lazy rested holiday with nothing to do except eat, sleep and breathe and for that a location by the beach works best as I was going with my strapping young lads who<i> </i>have abundant energy and who need something and somewhere to spend that excess, without burning off too much money! The resort was highly recommended by a friend who usually spends a good few weeks there every year</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> with her family. So hotel and flights booked in a span of three days, this holiday felt rested right at the start! </span><br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br />
Not so rested was our journey which started with a flight delay of over two hours and with not much in-flight entertainment for short-haul flights in Cathay Pacific, I couldn't wait for our journey to get over. Our second delay came in the form of getting our visa, which sounds so comfortable when it says <i>'Visa available on Arrival' </i>on Thailand's website but which isn't as easy to procure once you are physically there. We hold an Indian passport and hence need to obtain a visa for most countries before travel, so while our Caucasian counterparts can just saunter off to any destination at the very last minute, we almost always need to plan ours much in advance. Anyway coming back to our series of delays - first the flight, then the wait to get our visas from tired-looking, unenthusiastic officers who seemed extremely over-worked at the only two counters that they were operating, stamping passports with a big thud for a steady string of noisy, agitated travellers; and finally the delay in finding our airport pickup taxi! An unsuccessful conversation with the Thai airport <i>"help desk"</i>, a phone call to the resort using the phone and local language services of a complete stranger who offered to help us, it was almost 11pm by the time we found our taxi man who had suddenly appeared on the scene, wondering what all the fuss was about! <span style="font-size: large;">Welcome to Thailand - our holiday had just begun!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
</div>
<div>
Well I must give it to the van driver to bring us to the hotel in just a little under 3 hours instead of the staple 4, covering the miles with his foot pressed firmly on the accelerator and his eyes (hopefully) glued to the windscreen. The minivan must have swayed a bit at times and he also made a pit stop at a deserted gas station, had it not been for the presence of my husband, I would've stayed awake the whole journey fretting and fuming! Instead I left the worrying to him and spread myself on one of the seats just like my boys who were lost to another world. Finally at 2 am we reached our destination. If I was expecting a 24-hour lobby service with a smartly dressed receptionist waiting with a welcome drink and a string of apologies, I was mistaken. The creaky little gate was opened by a groggy looking watchman who greeted us with a jingle of our room keys and showed us the way to our rooms. <i><span style="font-size: large;">"Where is the hotel?"</span> </i>inquired my little one who was expecting a<i> </i>usual posh skyscraper, bright lights and elevators.<i> </i>Our quiet little bungalows surrounded by swaying trees and dark lawns was certainly not what he had expected.<i> </i>I held my breath waiting for the whinging to start. Luckily when we reached our rooms both the kids got excited about having a room (for the first time during a trip) to themselves and were keen to get started on the independent bit, pushing us out of the room. 5 minutes later they were fast asleep.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After a fitful night with just a few hours of sleep, I was woken up at 8 am by my little early riser who filled the room with warm, bright sunshine as he lifted up the drapes and opened our door. Not the one to go back to sleep once awake, I got dressed and marched straight to the reception office ready to assault them with my string of complaints! That my neck was feeling as stiff as a stick made my mood only worse. However to their good luck there was no one at the Reception desk. I had to ring a little bell lying on the desk to bring out a <i>"Sawadhi-kha"</i> even before I could see the person! She straightaway showed me the registration forms to be signed and handed me the breakfast coupons, but I was having nothing of it, as I raved and ranted about the late pick-up, the late hour of the flight arrival (as if that was her fault) and lastly the 'missing' connecting door to the two rooms that we had booked! <i>"All our connecting door rooms are sold out, or maybe we could give you one for the first two nights and then you would have to shift out......."</i> And so on and so forth were the excuses provided. I tried to quickly get connected to their wifi to show them our exchange of emails where they had confirmed connecting rooms! <i>"Why else would I take two separate rooms?" </i>I asked them, expecting them to know the answer. Following a series of printouts of the emails and plenty of internal staff conversation in Thai, they realised their mistake, apologised profusely and said they would be able to give us the rooms post a check-out later that day. Phew! I felt a little bit better. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCF_RlbQB4nw9FC_JjX1vDv6B2h6IPCgY99LYJSlx6NndjFir86bN75J_3zb-03KE1e60-K9giY1Idh5smI_Tr9tlLM15a5RLUmWweXDb9F-6k7nAJfe_UQx7UZutYZQ44ui2QGxw0dUbO/s1600/IMG_5659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCF_RlbQB4nw9FC_JjX1vDv6B2h6IPCgY99LYJSlx6NndjFir86bN75J_3zb-03KE1e60-K9giY1Idh5smI_Tr9tlLM15a5RLUmWweXDb9F-6k7nAJfe_UQx7UZutYZQ44ui2QGxw0dUbO/s1600/IMG_5659.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bicycling path - Sam Roi Yot</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Once that was out of the way, we headed straight for breakfast. It was a decent spread of Thai and Continental dishes, not as lavish as some other ones we've had but enough to satiate one's appetite. That done the kids jumped straight into the pool. A dip in the <i>warm</i> water, it was the kind of temperature that I always like in a pool, I watched the kids go for the hundredth time on the water slide, trying out different positions. <span style="font-size: large;">Their laughter plus my cup of coffee elevated my mood further and it was then that I observed my beautiful surroundings for the first time.</span> The pretty little cottages side by side, the splash of blue with two decent sized pools and abundant greenery actually made the setting look very relaxing. The happy travelers around me, most were young families with babies and toddlers in tow, the friendly waiters, the long list of cocktails in the menu and a surprise complimentary spa massage given by the hotel for all my unnecessary stress earlier - worked well in setting my mood several notches towards a lighter, happier feeling.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyFl_eQUlffz_7JPTPcntiVH1osaCFKcoQSejXQOtW-GY3BVPMW1Oj2CT3YrwgrST0VlED-4du_0otsHvhPkhg953MJEWDLmsbyAMfV3HWgLYSzrBrsjhi7jCxWgAIskd0Q0CjfMWS4hTC/s1600/IMG_5602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyFl_eQUlffz_7JPTPcntiVH1osaCFKcoQSejXQOtW-GY3BVPMW1Oj2CT3YrwgrST0VlED-4du_0otsHvhPkhg953MJEWDLmsbyAMfV3HWgLYSzrBrsjhi7jCxWgAIskd0Q0CjfMWS4hTC/s1600/IMG_5602.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
The same day we made new friends at the resort. A Thai-American couple from California who had a little girl and two boys of similar age as mine. After the first shy, awkward moments, the boys hit it off really well. After spending hours in the calm waters of the sea picking up starfish, sand dollars and mini crabs and paddle boating too, we all headed happily back to our rooms to spend some time in the air conditioned interiors soothing our almost burnt skin! The evening was spent taking a walk down the road exploring our neighborhood. <i>"I don't like this place,"</i> complained my 7-year old. <i>"Where are all the cars and the 'tuk-tuks'?"</i> I couldn't believe it! Here I was finally getting peace and quiet away from the maddening crowd and traffic back home and here was my little city-dweller complaining about the lack of noise!<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">The next day which turned out to be the highlight of the trip for my boys was a day spent at a recently opened water park nearby. We all had a great time actually thanks to our lovely newly-made friends. Although we did most of the rides/slides together, I am sure our kids wouldn't have missed us at all had we just parked ourselves in one place and just let them be! Teamed up with the other two, morning turned to noon and noon to evening, as we got splashed around by crazy rides and water everywhere! Thank God it was a hot day as usual else I wouldn't have been able to stand so much water on me all throughout the day! I also managed to take a quick nap in-between and complained about being 'left-out' the minute I woke up! All said and done it was a lovely day and we all were in high spirits as we drove back to our resort. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-PHJbewRe87PGiorht7RGxcH7MzOqAh0Gn07tWVpcl6aMzYicXfibc40XeXWBBIsIwmZOLDATcKMTyLPkwoDeoKBushK5RaipjfHMJqY1ze_rDHeZAZUE6zQ-MPJfun8BmczUHEQ_nhtZ/s1600/IMG_5691.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-PHJbewRe87PGiorht7RGxcH7MzOqAh0Gn07tWVpcl6aMzYicXfibc40XeXWBBIsIwmZOLDATcKMTyLPkwoDeoKBushK5RaipjfHMJqY1ze_rDHeZAZUE6zQ-MPJfun8BmczUHEQ_nhtZ/s1600/IMG_5691.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Having spent a frenzied day in the water park, we decided to spend the rest of the holiday in the resort, relaxing by the pool, and did not venture out much. Oh well once I did cross the road to buy a new swimsuit from a kind Thai lady who apparently had walked several miles to sell her wares, and once to get a braid-fix! I love these tiny little braids that the Thais are so good at making. It makes my hair look so different and manageable atleast for a couple of days after. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZaR2MLwAD8Lo-qntRUT0VYt3w0F4GiBkaSF8ZPx5rKRLuiSUy__b7sbdevXOyNNWvseN7E9_OjDTZ407LxlNtc06f-RjROetfnY1TIXxwBoZswC3_Uxvb35UX7KD3RsCJYsFuzn7-kIGe/s1600/IMG_5686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZaR2MLwAD8Lo-qntRUT0VYt3w0F4GiBkaSF8ZPx5rKRLuiSUy__b7sbdevXOyNNWvseN7E9_OjDTZ407LxlNtc06f-RjROetfnY1TIXxwBoZswC3_Uxvb35UX7KD3RsCJYsFuzn7-kIGe/s1600/IMG_5686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZaR2MLwAD8Lo-qntRUT0VYt3w0F4GiBkaSF8ZPx5rKRLuiSUy__b7sbdevXOyNNWvseN7E9_OjDTZ407LxlNtc06f-RjROetfnY1TIXxwBoZswC3_Uxvb35UX7KD3RsCJYsFuzn7-kIGe/s1600/IMG_5686.JPG" width="240" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Breakfast, lunch, dinner were all spent in the little restaurant in the resort overlooking the sea and the pool. The waiters were very friendly and the food delicious and hygienic. I think between the four of us we must have tried out almost every dish in the menu over the five nights spent there. It may sound boring not having anything to-do, but trust me time just flew! The resort had other things to keep us busy and I must say we tried them all! Thai massage, foot massage, spa treatments kept the adults busy, while the open lawn, the playground, the pool of course </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">and a children's room where kids could watch movies free of charge kept them boys busy and happy. It was such a big change not having to manage schedules, do time checks or rush around seeing this and doing that. One of my best memories from this holiday is a quiet run on the beach early one morning, after watching the sun rise beautifully over the mountains. My cousin who lives in Bangkok did a 6 hour journey along with his girl friend only to come and meet us and spent a night in our paradise, adding to our joy and happiness.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5dBUUZBCl6pwa54ri9Fw8UqxZ0hxnWlwW86R-gXmnMjxVtwZtnDpSFqv9mXUZiD72h8tQvXI3FGamFEiCH-Dq20d4WEpTrt-IDW-bLPlii-uDa9Qojm1HfOZ46GPYy7Hkj9szg8mizhcB/s1600/IMG_5695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5dBUUZBCl6pwa54ri9Fw8UqxZ0hxnWlwW86R-gXmnMjxVtwZtnDpSFqv9mXUZiD72h8tQvXI3FGamFEiCH-Dq20d4WEpTrt-IDW-bLPlii-uDa9Qojm1HfOZ46GPYy7Hkj9szg8mizhcB/s1600/IMG_5695.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just before my jog</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFZg6c9uZ9o5NQZiFzgtE7MMHEHkuGB4MlsAPuJleE-ysfCpQ05qAMV4OYUGVKsjQ81rMJnt4LsuPmNqtmIDqarI3q8E7EU7mzJoVY5d8dhoQu9kRbTRGMMiYotUGPnBxgT3ljjAMZHncA/s1600/IMG_5693.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFZg6c9uZ9o5NQZiFzgtE7MMHEHkuGB4MlsAPuJleE-ysfCpQ05qAMV4OYUGVKsjQ81rMJnt4LsuPmNqtmIDqarI3q8E7EU7mzJoVY5d8dhoQu9kRbTRGMMiYotUGPnBxgT3ljjAMZHncA/s1600/IMG_5693.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Oh and before I forget I also taught my son how to ride a bike! One could rent a bike, scooter, car from the hotel at a small cost per hour. And there were lovely safe bike lanes on the roads, though considering the non-existent traffic one technically didn't need them. Anyway after a few hits, falls and mis-balancing acts, my 7-year old managed to get it right! It was such a thrilling moment for both us watching him glide down the path confidently after just three days of training, I felt like a new mum watching my baby walk for the very first time! <span style="font-size: large;">Yet another memory that will bind us to this wonderful place forever. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHpgLNTCV2dl9MZpAu8gsyncDk7nwuiUnJuAJEInbGgm9PpJtzQ5eeNVnuG3H6gX-Dgn2aoFmhBKgHswf1bf6GPyIVXO1-vcIC7wDsLovTiTN2rh_gLSNVAd5DwchUAvEHpes4tjc7LZt2/s1600/IMG_5671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHpgLNTCV2dl9MZpAu8gsyncDk7nwuiUnJuAJEInbGgm9PpJtzQ5eeNVnuG3H6gX-Dgn2aoFmhBKgHswf1bf6GPyIVXO1-vcIC7wDsLovTiTN2rh_gLSNVAd5DwchUAvEHpes4tjc7LZt2/s1600/IMG_5671.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-50938603681475549132015-03-23T23:11:00.001+08:002015-08-11T22:01:58.825+08:00It's that time of the year...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidT8baky8sPc6YYS_2JUuSCwoQQUyIPL-ZzPzTQMdSJ_apksCqN6Us_LI3v49HrQ1_SLWEOBLwf1nwkryeH1VFpUTAVkUT2Um6r3ktfOOHAUlDdPQD6sdd9iUuArlLEQ5IK3AQFBTUYczI/s1600/IMG_5347.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidT8baky8sPc6YYS_2JUuSCwoQQUyIPL-ZzPzTQMdSJ_apksCqN6Us_LI3v49HrQ1_SLWEOBLwf1nwkryeH1VFpUTAVkUT2Um6r3ktfOOHAUlDdPQD6sdd9iUuArlLEQ5IK3AQFBTUYczI/s320/IMG_5347.JPG" width="240" /></a>It's that time of the year when everything else takes a back seat, when weeks feel like days, days like hours and hours like minutes slipping by. When things have to be planned and re-planned with precision clockwork leaving no chance for delays or mistakes. After all it's the most important time of the year - a time to single mindedly focus on bringing cheer and joy to two very special people in my life - it's my boys' birthday month!<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
While their actual birthdays fall on March 27th and 29th, the first thought on what's to be done for their birthday crosses my mind almost as soon as my birthday is over which is in early- January. Discussion, deliberation and ideas are thrown around and by the end of January I have a basic idea of what we would be doing for their birthday - the probable venue, date and of course the cake design! I must be sounding crazy with all my fervor and dedication for this 'cause', as my husband can never figure out what the fuss is all about. <i>"You have two more months to go Mehroo, what's the big rush? Do we really need a party this year"</i> he pleads, when I constantly ramble on with my thoughts about this topic. </div>
<div>
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Ever since the <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2012/06/birthday-parties.html" target="_blank">boys turned one</a>, I think we have <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2013/04/yet-another-birthday-party_19.html" target="_blank">almost always had a party</a>. I remember the two occasions when we didn't - one when my younger son was born and the other when I <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2013/03/an-unplanned-day.html" target="_blank">cut my tendon in my thumb</a> and had my hand in a splint. And why not I would say, after all <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2013/01/its-my-birthday.html" target="_blank">I had birthday parties</a> almost every single year growing up so I am just following my <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2013/05/mothers-day-poem.html" target="_blank">mother's </a>footsteps!</span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In the beginning when the kids were still quite small, I was more than happy to hand over all the organising work to an external party. Be it an outside caterer on our building terrace, a local club or an indoor playground, I was happy to organise, co-ordinate and then just breeze in for the party with my toddlers in tow and enjoy the fun! <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">It is only when my younger son turned 3 and the elder one 7, that I decided to take more of the reins in my hands. We lived in London at that time with a lovely back garden and a very convenient park right opposite the house. We always like giving combined parties for the boys which work very well and that year we had organised </span>two different sets of activities for the boys. One played football with his friends in a nearby park with my husband being the referee while I entertained the 3 year-olds at home with games and music along with my mummy-friends! I was also brave enough to try out my hand at baking, baking a birthday cake for the very first time! One got Thomas the tank and the other a Dinosaur cake. My reward for weeks of planning and hard work was the smiles that I saw on my boys' faces as they cut their birthday cakes delighted with all the attention showered on them. After that there was no looking back!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After four years of <i>'home-made' </i>parties, this year I am doing it outside once again. No I haven't got tired or bored, or lost interest in doing parties, it's just that the kids have grown up! No longer are my <i>'little ones'</i> satisfied with just running around with their friends or kicking a ball in the park! They want more. So this year we have a bowling party for the younger lot and an indoor football party for my older son <i>(yes that's this fourth football party!)</i>. While I gave up the home-made party bit, I am not giving up on the combined party, which does take a while to plan but it works best. I am not giving up on cake baking either - thankfully this one they don't want me to! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Talk about cake baking. It's easier said than done. My hats off to all you home and professional bakers who make it sound so simple on google and who also give the much-needed encouragement and advice. <i>Icing too dry, fear not, just add some water, cake split in two - no problem - just glue it up with buttercream! </i>They are real life savers when you are in almost tears with a burnt or sunken cake at home. Since the actual party is at a club this year, I thought all I had to do was to focus on the cake. First finalise the cake base and the design, get approvals from the kids, then start the task of buying ingredients. Again going by the Hong Kong-size kitchen storage space, one cannot buy too much in advance, so you walk into the supermarket probably 3-4 days before baking. I would ideally buy everything a day in advance, but Hong Kong is never reliable with its stock availability on most things. If you do manage to find unsalted butter then you won't find icing sugar, if you do manage to get both, then you won't find enough boxes of self raising flour. I always end up doing three rounds to get everything that I need! This year I am going extra crazy with the number of cakes to bake. Two for the birthday party, two for our community party, and then 60+ cup cakes for classmates at school - all in one week! What with my part-time work every morning and the boys coming back from school by 3:30, it leaves me with a window of just 3 hours every afternoon. With a microwave cum oven and just enough kitchen top space, baking can take a long long time, that's if there are no disasters and I did have one this time (not elaborating). Then of course dish washing at the end with lots of sticky butter cream to de-grease! I do watch you tube videos on how to bake and ice as revision before baking and I love to see the lovely innumerable different kinds of equipment that the chefs use, but I can bet that if they had to wash all those fancy tools themselves, they would use less than a half! I have even made myself a baking schedule this time so I can plan ahead and be more efficient! Maybe I should add timings to that sheet next time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
I know I know I am now making it sound all like a big task, like a MUST-DO, instead of a WANT-TO-DO. The stress, the pressure is a part of the job, but the final result is worth it all. Like I asked my son who turns 7 when he kept staring at his cake today <i>"Do you like it darling?" "No Mummy" </i>he replied still looking very serious,<i> "I love it!" </i>And he beamed! And so it will continue...that time of the year!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7cxNTHyEX0n4q36yY5a5vAQ_3hT4BzdAhNEjX-0oOSk3r-QkEtTerHQTaAcDe7qG97j2-dwHcVRzdxxO9a1d5ENO9jE2fFgac-l8vO1x9qapZWxMMjbQhmAErKBzYSeY5tUzBmEqxJqt/s1600/IMG_5374.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7cxNTHyEX0n4q36yY5a5vAQ_3hT4BzdAhNEjX-0oOSk3r-QkEtTerHQTaAcDe7qG97j2-dwHcVRzdxxO9a1d5ENO9jE2fFgac-l8vO1x9qapZWxMMjbQhmAErKBzYSeY5tUzBmEqxJqt/s1600/IMG_5374.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dinosaur cake - waterfall and volcano were compulsory!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhugJVXK4NZQ6EFFl7mBLjDO-4pcMETNcxduzEMuegwZWiwIN1byDuoeGG5e0CabHxrDpIF0DhM-uxhkwkrurPlOSZPCtsPJmHe5A38AStib67pG6WifavHwYpCXJip-FuxwTR7OGkt6HnJ/s1600/IMG_5371.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhugJVXK4NZQ6EFFl7mBLjDO-4pcMETNcxduzEMuegwZWiwIN1byDuoeGG5e0CabHxrDpIF0DhM-uxhkwkrurPlOSZPCtsPJmHe5A38AStib67pG6WifavHwYpCXJip-FuxwTR7OGkt6HnJ/s1600/IMG_5371.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wolverine on edible icing sheet</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-30938005977552113632015-02-20T13:27:00.000+08:002015-08-11T23:32:00.009+08:00CNY holidays 2015 - bringing in the Year of the Goat<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK9R6Y0lnoYsL3Oqr_q3GsgUv-tWwgJ445TlrjnICoBmO24PJ_sgnI5l7_mQxgS_GzczqH56Uz54Nn6KfkhmmpIVICdUCJlEJbfCCvzgGjfbaxDYCoE73BaQUnAJtV8l9ysWu-eEIVmWn1/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK9R6Y0lnoYsL3Oqr_q3GsgUv-tWwgJ445TlrjnICoBmO24PJ_sgnI5l7_mQxgS_GzczqH56Uz54Nn6KfkhmmpIVICdUCJlEJbfCCvzgGjfbaxDYCoE73BaQUnAJtV8l9ysWu-eEIVmWn1/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ocean Park - Dragon roller coaster</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We are almost towards the end of our Chinese New Year holidays, and while going out of town for a holiday to a ski resort or to a beach would have been exciting and adventurous, I really enjoyed my holiday right here at home, in Hong Kong.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We started off with a 'traditional' visit to Ocean Park. 'Traditional' because up until a few years ago, no holiday would have been complete without a mandatory visit to this fun and educative theme park. It was like our second home when the boys were small. I can never forget those days of picking them up straight from school and taking a bus to <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2012/09/ocean-park.html" target="_blank">Ocean Park</a>, their small hands clutching onto their Ocean Park Annual passes that they so cherished! A small haversack containing their change of clothes, a packed lunch and some snacks and drinks was a staple. This time when we went after a long gap of 11 months and I was pleasantly surprised to know that I wasn't the only one being nostalgic.<i>"Mummy remember this pink train? We used to go round and round in it all the time", "Mummy look I used to love running up and down these steps!"</i> The best part was watching them get excited about meeting the minimum height requirements in some of the rides that they couldn't do before. With them deciding the sequence of the rides and the routes to take, I was just a happy follower!<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br /></div>
<div>
This reversal of roles was quite apparent in other things as well that we did over the holidays. I had received this bluetooth speaker in the shape of a shower head, as a free gift with some purchase last year. I have been wanting to use it but kept postponing always citing <i>'not enough time' </i>as the main reason. I mean first I'd have to charge it, then figure out how to work it using bluetooth, then by the time I got around to playing the songs the battery would surely die, so I would have to repeat the same sequence of steps all over again. Too much work for music I say! So today when I happened to find that speaker while cleaning out a wardrobe, I handed them over to my 10-year old. <i>"Oh cool!"</i> came the excited reply. Within seconds the box was ripped apart and the speaker attached to my laptop for charging. Fifteen minutes later my son was lying in the bathtub shaking his head to the beats of the blaring music coming out of this funny looking blue shower head! I couldn't help but feel like I had aged overnight!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What I like about holidays spent at home is the amount of pending work one can clear up without too much thought. Dentist appointments, eye doctor visits, hair cuts, shopping for essentials like school shoes and socks - all covered in a day! It also puts some life back into those forgotten bicycles and scooters that gather dust during term time. Holidays at home also means waking up at leisure and doing things at your own pace, this is one of the reasons I do not like putting the kids for holiday classes, though I was tempted about a local football camp this time. Our typical day starts with a late breakfast, followed by a bit of Maths and English revision - now no Indian mother can resist doing <i>that</i> over a holiday period spent at home! This mental stimulation is followed by a healthy lunch, prepared hastily just like every other chore round the house. It's amazing how much time goes into finishing daily chores that are always waiting for me around the corner. Cleaning the floor, cooking, laundry, ironing are just the basics one can't get away from. Afternoon is usually movie or playtime for the boys. Evenings are planned appointments, a movie in the cinema or dining out, just the four of us!<br />
<br />
We had prepared this holiday planner and put it up on the bedroom door and keep checking-off the tasks completed and things done. While we all love going out and having fun, this holiday was a bit different - this time we were happy to stay indoors - and it had nothing to do with the weather! It was actually our dear friend - the guinea pig who kept luring us back home. Named <b>'Guinea'</b> this <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZYWcb9xJUX0h9Rd5gvrt1UHYqc8JfReJgyllXFBTLPqCgkkWMKe8gJDhZASpjDUo71_X1qWTMYFQMYYeAoefXj2HJgbAgIe6m2tR_QdA5H90Oh6r4JcwfQ29KgFDVjKKbxQzFRIE5BXCo/s1600/IMG_4936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZYWcb9xJUX0h9Rd5gvrt1UHYqc8JfReJgyllXFBTLPqCgkkWMKe8gJDhZASpjDUo71_X1qWTMYFQMYYeAoefXj2HJgbAgIe6m2tR_QdA5H90Oh6r4JcwfQ29KgFDVjKKbxQzFRIE5BXCo/s1600/IMG_4936.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
adorable jet-black guinea pig actually belongs to the school I work for and just comes home over weekends to spend time with us. This time we got lucky - we got to keep him for this whole week-long holiday! My younger son who is 6 specially adores him. He gives him his food on time, cleans his cage, fills up his little water bottle, and loves to keep him busy. Guinea goes for a ride in a cardboard box which is supposedly the Titanic and which is just about to crash into an iceberg, but miraculously gets saved in the nick of time, by a gently hand who guides him to a life boat! Sometimes he is driven around in his Porsche round the bends and the curves of our house and sometimes he is attacked by a ferocious dinosaur who rattles on his cage, only to be saved by a Super-boy who comes charging at the dinosaur before he can get to our Guinea! Oh yes it's so much fun to be at home this holiday! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>Kung Hei Fat Choy,</i> wish all my dear readers a happy, prosperous and peaceful New Year of the Goat/Sheep/Ram.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0X18oTyE55R_2X7wW9-ogvFK9lgDUSF-PNmVWXvh_h_4QpRmxqf3s9DVmanhEoL7jqRGEonS6jWdMKM_aJU03XzJq9EshHqwwPkf9JYuFvZ8j-Stn_hFM5an1y_M16zmKfbf0qkNuqNc3/s1600/best-chinese-new-year-greetings-words-in-mandarin-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0X18oTyE55R_2X7wW9-ogvFK9lgDUSF-PNmVWXvh_h_4QpRmxqf3s9DVmanhEoL7jqRGEonS6jWdMKM_aJU03XzJq9EshHqwwPkf9JYuFvZ8j-Stn_hFM5an1y_M16zmKfbf0qkNuqNc3/s1600/best-chinese-new-year-greetings-words-in-mandarin-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-15160779632326282392015-02-01T11:29:00.000+08:002015-08-11T23:37:38.171+08:00The only way to do great work is to love what you do<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>January 30, 2015. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJaS8JIKIWwGOIXskCj-Y1d2rRVS_Zkj-ZSOVKgJVqIBqbr7TLpMkNDmNcakYR1U9rC6qZyeC308MQQRZY-2I-C_sR_ySqKqLeRiGSyjl8LSnoyCahAHQvwbQU9zNY2h_M1W6MfVxAfdLn/s1600/IMG_4669.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJaS8JIKIWwGOIXskCj-Y1d2rRVS_Zkj-ZSOVKgJVqIBqbr7TLpMkNDmNcakYR1U9rC6qZyeC308MQQRZY-2I-C_sR_ySqKqLeRiGSyjl8LSnoyCahAHQvwbQU9zNY2h_M1W6MfVxAfdLn/s1600/IMG_4669.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">Phew! I am exhausted! It's 11 pm. I have finally managed to finish off all my chores and am now resting my aching back on my comfy bed, pulling my soft, warm quilt upto my neck. Never felt this good lying down! What's more, I feel better talking about my day to someone. So here goes...</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I woke up at 6:20 this morning eager to get an early start to my day. Knowing that I was meeting a friend for a hike at 9:00 and no ordinary hike mind you, I had to plan all my morning activities with military precision. Getting ready myself first, then getting the boys ready, which nowadays only means shout out instructions, the shout out reminders, followed by shouting out the time and intermittent <i>'Hurry up boys!'</i> The preparation of breakfast, the packing up of lunch boxes, the dishwashing, the ironing, the making of beds seems to be our daily morning ritual now. Before we know it the grandfather clock strikes 8, signalling us to leave home in order to catch the school bus on time. Goodbye kisses to Daddy, last minute instructions and a run to the school bus stop completes Stage 1 of my normal weekday. Today I have an additional task though, I need to drop off our pet guinea pig back to where he belongs. We only had him for a couple of days and what fun was he! It was 8:45 by the time I drop him off. Not the one to grab taxis, I changed two buses till I finally managed to reach our meeting place by 9:10, which wasn't too bad considering that my friend hadn't reached yet.</span><br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Our hike finally started at 9:30. An hour and what seemed like miles later we reached the base of the hill that we were planning to ascent. Nicknamed "The Twins" there are these two mountain ranges that are well-known for their treacherously steep steps and have sent many a hiker back down the same path, gasping for breath. What one needs is a solid heart to keep pumping blood back and forth and well developed lungs to expand and contract to their full capacity. We decided to take up the challenge. </span></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1VvbZDTRdoe6Qr3-aqPt_pNip1jinuhLk3VEQtT07hsb2CB2dL-7j4SvLHpASljj76XB7iZlAsIBXfvOzjSuawhP295Ymq4cTuzHUl0pH3NJKUfluhj5IZ-7OtdSQB3ltIjrq057A9swi/s1600/IMG_4658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1VvbZDTRdoe6Qr3-aqPt_pNip1jinuhLk3VEQtT07hsb2CB2dL-7j4SvLHpASljj76XB7iZlAsIBXfvOzjSuawhP295Ymq4cTuzHUl0pH3NJKUfluhj5IZ-7OtdSQB3ltIjrq057A9swi/s640/IMG_4658.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzQNhc6tWDuQgdLveb7TDchRbYaQqZtKDlqnBBsUAFBZLgPW21Umti_yFR-rnYkVVBuhbB01dDHCUIiI22zqFVVi4WUuBwZkhKy_gCrD7vf8FlK5MU-74Q1pWCCm0pfaUHu8nBRokcsYJR/s1600/IMG_4652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzQNhc6tWDuQgdLveb7TDchRbYaQqZtKDlqnBBsUAFBZLgPW21Umti_yFR-rnYkVVBuhbB01dDHCUIiI22zqFVVi4WUuBwZkhKy_gCrD7vf8FlK5MU-74Q1pWCCm0pfaUHu8nBRokcsYJR/s1600/IMG_4652.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Honestly I have been wanting <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">to do this trail for a long time specially since the first time round I was pretty wound up and quite depressed about my fitness level. We started our ascent on the </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">1000 steep and narrow steps going on and on into</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> eternity. The company of a friend, the quiet resilence of nature, the rustle of the birds in the bush and the clean fresh mountain air kept us going. When we thought we were just going to give up, an inscription in one of the steps saying 800 gave us a new boost of energy as we had just 200 more to go! </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Standing atop the mountain, breathing in fresh air, looking at nature's beauty merging effortlessly into the city's urban-ness, left us completely humbled. The rest of the stretch with uneven paths and even more steps felt like a breeze. Twenty minutes later we were both well tucked in a cozy coffee shop enjoying our well deserved drinks, cheering each other and basking in our sense of achievement. End of Phase 2.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBH1D-I5mrHDFRU2deNU3Ldy_Ys_5jr0vl5eVfUKooEYzv6Dr4-PBZU3FmvxZjuTPHHg5ZJEZFlDyf9mT7UyCfjHg4Iy5SkSGDRB9pcltUg-wmG6E3FA90AvRuFIHYY91Ohn9WNNJk1PD8/s1600/IMG_4675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBH1D-I5mrHDFRU2deNU3Ldy_Ys_5jr0vl5eVfUKooEYzv6Dr4-PBZU3FmvxZjuTPHHg5ZJEZFlDyf9mT7UyCfjHg4Iy5SkSGDRB9pcltUg-wmG6E3FA90AvRuFIHYY91Ohn9WNNJk1PD8/s1600/IMG_4675.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I came back home I realised the hike had taken up most part of my day, at least the part that I call my own, before the kids are back from school. I could just about manage a nice, hot shower before I went to pick up the boys from the school bus. I had taken their scooters along with me as I wanted us to go to the local library to pick up some books that I had reserved earlier. And of course how could I go to the library without making a visit to the supermarket and wet market just next door! One hour later I was trudging up on a different kind of slope- the one going home, with a different kind of difficulty level- trying to balance the weight of my shopping bag on my right shoulder with the books on the other. The boys did their fair share of carrying their own school bags and managing their scooters so I cannot complain! Phase 3 ends.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Today we did our <i>snack-time</i> in our lovely outdoor podium area where I sat with my hot cup of tea (yes I did have to go home to make it first) </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">while the boys gobbled on their cake treat. <i>"I am still hungry"</i> made us open a pack of pita chips- baked not fried, mind you! It was a lovely day and I was just about starting to relax, letting my back sink into the chair and enjoy my evening, when the boys started <i>"Let's play hide n seek Mummy!" </i> <i>"Go on then"</i> I told them taking my phone out to check my emails in peace. But the response I got was <i>"No mummy it's not fun without you!"</i> I did not know whether to bask in the glory that I was still considered 'fun' by my boys or to cry at the thought of having to leave my still warm cup and my phone. But a mother has no choice - guilt always wins and I dragged myself out of the nice comfortable, recently bought by the management, outdoor chair. To be honest I did have fun running around, catching them, hiding, shrieking along with them. I have always loved hide n seek as a child, my boys even know what <i>'dabba eye spy'</i> is, do you? End of Phase 4.</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSLY-dO1kTrMo91WfRqCH_EdVCAoM2_D0q2DQzbnH_iz0BZ8J_HeK8SEER6KDC1l3ArmMILD9wfgV1Pl86IQSrq6jCthtYVxWA4XCy-mYcJUcw4KeRJyXb0U9dbXNtctpogqi8RC73E-6/s1600/IMG_4678.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSLY-dO1kTrMo91WfRqCH_EdVCAoM2_D0q2DQzbnH_iz0BZ8J_HeK8SEER6KDC1l3ArmMILD9wfgV1Pl86IQSrq6jCthtYVxWA4XCy-mYcJUcw4KeRJyXb0U9dbXNtctpogqi8RC73E-6/s1600/IMG_4678.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">Soon it was dinner time and Trust me it is quite dangerous having two tired, hungry boys around you. Thank goodness it was a Friday movie evening, something to keep them distracted for some time. But it was also a Friday pizza night, as I usually make pizzas at home for them. Trouble was I did not find pita bread at the supermarket today, which meant that I was just going to have to try making the base at home, for the very first time! And while I was going to be in the kitchen I thought I may as well cook my own dinner, although I had asked my husband earlier to get some take away tonight. Well what's in cooking dinner, I can do that in a jiffy. So I got started and finished three dishes for our own dinner within 30 minutes, but I was still struggling with what to do with the pizza base. I had the dough kneaded and ready, happy in the knowledge that I used part white and part wholewheat flour. It definitely looked much healthier than the pita bread I normally bought. I looked at some videos on YouTube tried out to get the next part right, I tried to think of friends who made pizza bases at home so I could call them, I did what I thought was ok, even poked the rolled out dough with a fork as shown in the video. But then I took ages baking each one as my decent sized bases would only go in one at a time in my lovely Hong Kong size micro- oven that was trying its best to get the bread to rise and the cheese to melt despite having a toaster and some cutlery lying on its top! Space constraint you see. Though small kitchens do have an advantage mind you as I can stand right in the middle of my kitchen, extend my hands and get two things done at the same time. So I was about to take the freshly baked pizza out of the oven and at the same time I could prepare the toppings for the next one. One hour and a whole messy kitchen later, the pizzas were ready! I did not have to call out twice as the boys made their way into the kitchen to get them. When tummies are growling and pizzas is on the menu, no movie can be interesting enough! That done I finally wore my gloves to start the humongous task of dish washing, swearing to buy as many pita bread packs as possible and freezing them, I heard my elder son calling out <i>"Mummy your pizza is delicious! I really like the bread base!"</i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I stopped what I was doing, a big smile spreading across my face, taking away all those tired wrinkles and lighting up my heart. <i>"Thank you my love, would you like the same pizzas next week?" </i>I didn't have to wait for the answer. Fifteen minutes later as I finally made my way out of a now spotless, sparkling kitchen, I happened to read this magnet stuck on my fridge door <i>The only way to do great work is to love what you do. </i>Couldn't have been more true, could it? End of Phase 5.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">“</span><em style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">This post is a part of <a href="http://useyourand.blogadda.com/" target="_blank">#UseYourAnd</a> activity at <a href="http://www.blogadda.com/" target="_blank">BlogAdda </a>in association with <a href="https://www.facebook.com/GilletteVenusIndia" target="_blank">Gillette Venus</a>“.</em></div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-62656720217039253992015-01-09T11:30:00.001+08:002015-02-01T16:04:05.917+08:00Restless<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Sitting on my perch<br />
<div>
On this cloudy, misty day</div>
<div>
I look out at the sea</div>
<div>
In a confused sort of way</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The thoughts that I have</div>
<div>
Are weird but true</div>
<div>
The more I seem to achieve</div>
<div>
The more I want to do.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Is it just me</div>
<div>
Or the greed of human nature </div>
<div>
Happiness is short-lived</div>
<div>
Satisfaction has no stature.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The ships steaming by</div>
<div>
The boats chugging along</div>
<div>
All seem to be telling me</div>
<div>
Get up, do something, go on!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I work hard all day</div>
<div>
I make it clear to them aloud </div>
<div>
I deserve a moment of rest and peace </div>
<div>
Without feeling guilty no doubt</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
They can't seem to be hearing me</div>
<div>
They are blowing their angry horns</div>
<div>
To tell me that I am wasting my time</div>
<div>
That I have no right to sit and moan</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So on my feet I stand reluctantly </div>
<div>
Taking a step then two then three</div>
<div>
I know not where I am going or what I am going to do</div>
<div>
It's just this restless feeling</div>
<div>
I can't escape it, can you? </div>
<div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeBycla5lIsMKwBwQhDbR1fAaPEkECLGUoj6iO6J5sJTkBaeiwlBAyDtiKbKEhOIULDQ1nt46qZTJs6Nr_G1NSDvQ5JMIJPX1YaudtsXKbouYEliih7bvGXOrJrlE3MbgkdEc_020iERfM/s640/blogger-image-381525971.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeBycla5lIsMKwBwQhDbR1fAaPEkECLGUoj6iO6J5sJTkBaeiwlBAyDtiKbKEhOIULDQ1nt46qZTJs6Nr_G1NSDvQ5JMIJPX1YaudtsXKbouYEliih7bvGXOrJrlE3MbgkdEc_020iERfM/s640/blogger-image-381525971.jpg" /></a></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-27082590494683588632015-01-02T02:24:00.001+08:002015-01-04T22:14:27.496+08:00Turning 40<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's so strange that sometimes when you really want to write about something, when you try your very best to put your thoughts down on paper, nothing significant comes out. </span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's frustrating! I have been trying to write about 'Turning 40' since the past one week and every attempt of mine leads to incoherent thoughts and muddled up posts. Although I have so many things to talk about, my thoughts keep floating in my head in different directions but seem unable to form complete coherent sentences on paper, or rather on screen. Having said all this and getting my frustration known to all, let me give it one last shot, so here goes.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I turn 40, today. That would complete 4 decades of living in this world and no matter how young I feel or look, that's a long, long time, enough to have nostalgic memories and proudly declare what I always heard my parents or grandparents say "Aapra zamana ma toh....." (In our times.....). In our times we watched two channels on TV on Doordarshan, not because we weren't allowed to watch the others, but because there were only two channels available! In our times we could buy a bottle of Mangola or Thumbs Up for Rs. 3 and Rs. 2.50 only, I remember having Thumbs Up at times only to save that 50p although I was a big fan of Mangola! In our times there was no crazy traffic like today, no pollution too, and like we were discussing with yesteryear friends, this <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">New Year's Eve night, at a much frequented local venue, 'In our times they always played romantic music for couples to cuddle up right after the New year blast at midnight. Where had that music gone?' It was sorely missing in the whole Bollywood drumbeat music. Maybe the 'aaj-kal' na couples don't need to dramatise their affection with moony hugs. Jumping up and down to the music beats seems to work just as well!</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sometimes I am riding the wave of the new millennium, sometimes I just want to close my eyes and go back in time, bring out the happy memories, savour those timeless moments. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXAv3roYfs5j6wwod1Vh-evCfH5705pCpXOXRaeL8kViLjkl4r0G8i_kMQnHy1vPAUgZuVWiWw18B0-Eccsnqkg3rwXsqAjdIXOrTsu7CDuFoBOif47OfEsWWxxfbhVOHjgkzFoYemI9N6/s1600/blogger-image--657742961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXAv3roYfs5j6wwod1Vh-evCfH5705pCpXOXRaeL8kViLjkl4r0G8i_kMQnHy1vPAUgZuVWiWw18B0-Eccsnqkg3rwXsqAjdIXOrTsu7CDuFoBOif47OfEsWWxxfbhVOHjgkzFoYemI9N6/s640/blogger-image--657742961.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">What's in a number they say which is so true. I knew I was turning 40 a year ago, I thought it was going to be different, friends made a big hype about it 'Wow turning 40 so what do you plan to do?' I thought I would do something different, feel different, but honestly now that the day is here the feeling is more or less the same. It's just like having any other birthday - special - yes, drastically different - No!</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Are you ready to face the 40s?" Some people asked me. I pondered for a while and replied "Oh hell yes! I am absolutely ready!" While I thoroughly enjoyed the 30s with all its ups and downs - motherhood, changing priorities, dealing with tantrums, living abroad, surviving holidays, struggling to feel and look young and yet turning grey - it was a challenging ride that made me realise and appreciate the strength of family bonds and the extraordinary effort and time that goes into keeping it strong. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But now that I have crossed that bridge I am looking forward to the new decade. I have a feeling that this decade is going to be more about me, myself and I. Kids are growing up at lightening speed. I can already see that they don't need me as much as they did and getting more and more independent. Time now to accomplish those unfinished dreams, pick up the pieces of a broken career that got overshadowed by the love of motherhood, time now to get closer and more romantic once again with my better half, tweak those daily routines a bit to get more breathing space. It's time to rediscover our passions and walk together finding common pursuits for the coming years. Hiking, blogging, teaching, fitness are all the interests that I wish to rekindle and excel at. 40s are the new 20s -only with added benefits of maturity and experience. It's time to be a 'propah' lady, so bring it on 40s, I can't wait to see what you have in store! </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXAv3roYfs5j6wwod1Vh-evCfH5705pCpXOXRaeL8kViLjkl4r0G8i_kMQnHy1vPAUgZuVWiWw18B0-Eccsnqkg3rwXsqAjdIXOrTsu7CDuFoBOif47OfEsWWxxfbhVOHjgkzFoYemI9N6/s640/blogger-image--657742961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></a></div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-48804470541446194522014-12-15T00:03:00.000+08:002014-12-15T00:03:15.844+08:00'Tis the season to be busy....Fa la la la la, la la la la<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Never-ending 'to-do' lists, Christmas shopping bazaars, constant watch for promotions and discount fairs, heavy shopping bags, lighter wallet, end-of-school Christmas parties, Christmas drinks, tired feet, sleepless nights - yes we are only about two weeks away from Christmas!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLO8WnyQa6Hq1LHNHv7KLqJYFL4zrTTFXHEG0DkWq8A2RqzAtY2pa0CC-4Sa3P46-zbIanfNUgYTOROgIbzDieUCCsUfbumPeWdtDtQC1c5mfd8YndfBMy9niKldwRsaOP9nGWiXc5FkdI/s1600/tired+santa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLO8WnyQa6Hq1LHNHv7KLqJYFL4zrTTFXHEG0DkWq8A2RqzAtY2pa0CC-4Sa3P46-zbIanfNUgYTOROgIbzDieUCCsUfbumPeWdtDtQC1c5mfd8YndfBMy9niKldwRsaOP9nGWiXc5FkdI/s1600/tired+santa.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Well, the parties and drinks might continue upto the New Year but the good news is that the crazy shopping period ends soon. By the end of this week the crowd at the designer boutiques, department stores and the famous Hong Kong street markets would find its way to another place - the Hong Kong airport. I can already visualise the scene - harrowed young mums trying to calm screaming babies or overly excited toddlers, sleep-deprived dads -<i>too much partying you see</i> arguing with the check-in staff about the extra luggage. <i>''But this isn't even ours"</i>, they argue, pointing to an extra-large size suitcase filled with gifts for family back home, <i>"Atleast the contents aren't!"</i> Then there are the unaccompanied young travelers - 8 and 10 year olds who are probably travelling all by themselves for the very time, excited yet nervous, seemingly unaware of the chaos around, and then there are families like mine with grown up kids, 6 and 10, perfectly capable of handling themselves and helping us too and yet young enough to listen to us and give us a cuddle if need be. You might see the likes of us sauntering around the duty-free shops or having a relaxed cup of coffee while waiting for the plane to depart, Oh the wonderful air of Christmas! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am on the bus back home and I can't help giving frequent glances at the time showing on my mobile, 15:11, it says. The school bus comes by 15:25, so I hope I would be able to make it on time, just like I have been hoping and following the same stressful schedule these past two weeks! It's work in the morning, I have started teaching by the way, then a mad rush to get on to a bus to go to the 'planned' shopping area. Running around the store trying to locate the gifts, run around a bit more trying to get the best deal available and then barely two hours later rush to find a bus back home, only after in a quick five-minute stop at the super market!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sometimes I wonder if it's all worth the effort and the stress, sometimes I wish we were going to a remote island instead of going back home for Christmas. I was up last night until 2 am sorting the mad chaos of shopping and doing what I am really terrible at - gift wrapping! I am almost ready to reveal the magic of the 'real' Santa - the one that does all the hard work behind the scenes, hunting for presents, hiding the presents, hiding the special Santa gift wrap, writing their names with my left-hand so that they don't get suspicious and giving the surprised look every Christmas morning, year after year, Phew! It's getting harder and harder each year as they are getting smarter and smarter. Sometimes I think they already know but are keeping up with the farce just to keep me happy!<br />
<br />
A few more days to go before this madness ends, before I would be sitting snug under a cozy blanket, on that plane heading home, with a glass of wine in my hand, watching a Hindi drama on screen. It won't be long before I meet my family and hand out the presents to those hands who have raised <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">me, embrace those who have always put my needs before theirs, give a cuddle to the little monsters in the family that are multiplying by the dozen and watch their eyes open wide as they open Santa's presents. Hmmm, maybe I can keep up with the farce a little bit longer. Endure a bit more retail therapy. It is certainly worth it! </span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="color: red;"><b>HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE! </b></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-44944734456496084612014-11-27T23:03:00.000+08:002014-11-28T15:04:35.503+08:00Let him go<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I let him go. </span>Released his hand that I was clutching onto just a minute ago, as the minibus came into view. <i>"Bye my love</i>, c<i>all me when you reach, take care and don't........." </i>My instructions were drowned in the drone of the bus as my son hastily got on, giving me a big smile which made me forget what I was saying. The bus driver shut the door, though he did pause for half a second assuming I would climb in too. Maybe I should have done just that. I waved goodbye to my son as the bus moved forward only to stop at a traffic light right ahead. <i>"Let's run and say another bye to your brother"</i> I tugged at my younger son's hand as we both laughed and started to run towards the bus, eager to catch another glimpse of my son who was travelling all by himself in a local bus, for the very first time. Too late. The traffic light turned green and the bus sped ahead. I walked back home with a zillion thoughts racing through my mind. Had I made the right decision letting him go alone for his rugby practice? What if he wouldn't be able to say <i>'Bus stop please'</i> in Cantonese, should I have noted down the minibus number? <span style="font-size: large;">'Stop it', I chided myself,</span> shaking my head as if to make the thoughts go away and held on tight to my son's hand as we both walked back home lost in our own worlds. </span><br />
<div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">You might wonder how old this boy is, whose mum is making such a big fuss about him going for his after-school class by himself? Well....he is 10. If you think he is too young to travel alone then you must know that he is probably the only child in his class who is still accompanied by his mum everywhere! I know scores of kids his age both boys and girls who travel to school and to after-school activities all by themselves. Some had even started doing so last year, a few even before that! So is he old enough to be by himself? Maybe....but I wanted to be sure, wanted to wait for the right time when he felt confident enough and I felt secure enough to let him do so.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have been living outside India for more than seven years now, but my thinking is still very much based on my upbringing in Bombay. <span style="font-size: large;"><i>"Never accept sweets from strangers"</i> were my mum's first words of caution</span> as we stepped into Primary school. News, in those days was all about children drugged and kidnapped right near their schools and my mother had made sure that we know each gory detail, enough to keep us on high-alert the minute we stepped out of our comfort zone. My school was barely a five minute walk from home and yet each day a chauffeur driven car was sent to drop-off and collect us. Even when we were allowed to walk home by ourselves, we were given a set of instructions on how to walk, where to look and the pace of walk. I guess a bit of my nervousness is rooted in this upbringing, besides of course the fierce desire to protect my children.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The other reason why I find it difficult to let go is because <span style="font-size: large;">I don't want to let go.</span> What's wrong with that I ask? Raising my kids, looking after them, taking them to after-school activities, volunteering for their school trips, are the reasons why I quit the corporate world. It gives me a chance to be with them, listen to them, know them inside-out and I take great pride in doing so. This has been my <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2012/09/leaving-corporate-world-biggest-role.html" target="_blank">full time job</a> all these years as a stay-at-home mum and now if someone asks me to quit it's not very easy to let go. Yes they are growing up, they might not need me as much as they did before, and I do like the occasional breathing space, but a complete let-go is like losing my job, which I won't accept without a fight! OK jokes apart, can someone tell me when is the ''right'' time to set them free? In the past whenever I have thought of sending my son alone for an activity, I didn't have a valid excuse for not being able to accompany him - I was always available! My friends ridiculed me for picking-up and dropping-off my kids to school, but honestly I could not find any other job as important or as satisfying as that. They needed me and I needed them. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I know, I know. Life goes on, things are bound to change. Whenever I hear new mums babble about their babies not eating solids, not getting potty-trained, not walking yet, I want to tell them to stop, step aside and just watch them grow. Send them to school as late in life as you can, be with them, cherish them, hold them, cuddle them. <span style="font-size: large;">There is no need to rush them to achieve their milestones, no need to make them grow up too soon. </span>Cause eventually they will and then we would want them to slow down.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghiW6FozOKRluE1ibmrxbmF74Th45UzTELD6wxSAN0CMTfHbsZibV6qixcTgzpc668EgwymizRpYy4J8NyKa_lZrW_IE-hT4m-X1kV4Kv2xelN4qXMcfJAVW0ifaDDMbu7KEF7saH88voU/s1600/DSCN1879.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghiW6FozOKRluE1ibmrxbmF74Th45UzTELD6wxSAN0CMTfHbsZibV6qixcTgzpc668EgwymizRpYy4J8NyKa_lZrW_IE-hT4m-X1kV4Kv2xelN4qXMcfJAVW0ifaDDMbu7KEF7saH88voU/s1600/DSCN1879.jpg" height="320" width="197" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My son holding onto my hand when he was 2.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's time for me to let go now, uncurl that small hand that has tightly gripped mine these past 10 years, finger by finger, touch by touch, making sure that he is ready to face the world by himself, letting him know that he can choose his own pace, make his own way and that I would be there just a step behind him to hold him steady if need be.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Two hours later a ping on my mobile phone makes me jump. It's a text from him. '<i>Almost home now'</i>. I am so relieved and I let out a long deep breath. My younger son ran down to the lobby to meet his brother. Guess he is also not used to being away from him for too long. Five minutes later my son walks in through the door and I couldn't help but notice a slight change in his gait, like a little spring, bobbing up and down - a style that comes with confidence and independence!</span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-26095126276047522492014-10-29T12:41:00.001+08:002014-10-29T12:41:46.277+08:00Hiking alone<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">While I love hiking with friends, <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2012/06/freedom-to-breathe.html" target="_blank">hiking</a> alone has it's own set of pleasures. So this morning I decided to set off for a hike all by myself. </span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I started off on a much-trodden trail going up to the highest point of Hong Kong island - The Peak. I was planning to go up there, do the usual circle walk, have my usual mug of Starbucks cappuccino and then walk back home. This was till I decided to take a small diversion. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUPCYZB4WMQTnYBSzzSkxYfrh1l-P_hiKivfUkmGK48qhDYnCk5BxqJkpb_Kjp9lKkHaQopoZxIs0dpDDo7YQq2Ru6TBtuAiTV7hrw-AJTUloUTe6YPQrhuBmszUoA37fBbN7Cdjk52pUU/s1600/01b30437caa4be6efdd2dc3bb5e5711c80ee9e3afb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUPCYZB4WMQTnYBSzzSkxYfrh1l-P_hiKivfUkmGK48qhDYnCk5BxqJkpb_Kjp9lKkHaQopoZxIs0dpDDo7YQq2Ru6TBtuAiTV7hrw-AJTUloUTe6YPQrhuBmszUoA37fBbN7Cdjk52pUU/s1600/01b30437caa4be6efdd2dc3bb5e5711c80ee9e3afb.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I decided to take the smaller path going right which was meant for horses <i>(if you see the picture above)</i>. Not that I have ever seen anyone horse riding on these paths. It was a gradual slope and I started walking up. It's a beautiful day today, clear, breezy, with just the right temperature. The ascent became steep but I didn't really feel tired. I kept going on and on, suddenly aware of the fact that no other hiker had crossed my path in quite some time. All I could hear now was the rustle of the leaves, the chirping of the birds and of course the sound of my steady footsteps. After some time I came across a clearing, the usual kind of a <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2013/05/1000-steps-to-hidden-world.html" target="_blank">Hong Kong</a> sit-out with circular concrete tables and stools. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt6USMXmwvaeUa_nCP4-Evsi6rPnXFjdHKwZh9LT5B1-37Dkxv8SoCYHgMrxCEZHaLemU8nIK9A4UjG5GBkmosH7jZchrNPNkkB2xkDHdOPIJWdaukBYsBhRje3mTF8T-HSjQYx54s8B55/s1600/01477a5e6703d2a76b61a5a75f22ff7081520c4bed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt6USMXmwvaeUa_nCP4-Evsi6rPnXFjdHKwZh9LT5B1-37Dkxv8SoCYHgMrxCEZHaLemU8nIK9A4UjG5GBkmosH7jZchrNPNkkB2xkDHdOPIJWdaukBYsBhRje3mTF8T-HSjQYx54s8B55/s1600/01477a5e6703d2a76b61a5a75f22ff7081520c4bed.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I paused there for a minute and was surprised to find a clock fixed on the wall showing the right time too! So obviously someone was using this path regularly. I chided myself for feeling nervous earlier and continued up the hill. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQcvehs2pOrZgXbr-zOXLs28TPatPDptuOGBxYzZzF2Qq2MbHhovhVH-qVbXAoqV1gCzkI9OcKK9eH37Jv6XJ-FVsJGilegBxyu6zSRQEyYdfKNbXvOaLjJ8HsgDjZ38Mc9iRBxCVEDdN6/s1600/blogger-image--1966440227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQcvehs2pOrZgXbr-zOXLs28TPatPDptuOGBxYzZzF2Qq2MbHhovhVH-qVbXAoqV1gCzkI9OcKK9eH37Jv6XJ-FVsJGilegBxyu6zSRQEyYdfKNbXvOaLjJ8HsgDjZ38Mc9iRBxCVEDdN6/s200/blogger-image--1966440227.jpg" width="180" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">I walked on and on till the vegetation around me started growing thicker and the path narrower covered with overgrown grass. Now when you are all alone and have nothing to occupy you, your mind starts playing tricks on you and I did let me imagination run wild. What if something happens.....a gang of Chinese thugs waiting to mug me, a pack of wolves come running out of the thicket, I slip over the wet leaves and fall into the valley, a poisonous snake slithers down my path and confronts me .....what would I do? I only have my water bottle for a weapon......I could run....but what if I fall......what would my husband do, who would he ask, where would he begin the search? After all I hadn't told him where I was going that morning! With all these thoughts now turning into images with my vivid imagination, I felt that the sun was getting more obscured by the trees, the path was getting too narrow to walk and the vegetation seemed to engulf me....I couldn't breathe.....I took a sudden U-turn! </span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now I am on a different trail, an unknown one again. Thankfully this one has come to a quick dead end, with this gorgeous view of South Hong Kong.</span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq0JtbA4DTp9r5rhIHK_nayNEDxMctR0SMXLqhkR9jKq7uaWrog9gvO6W-9kOq13nvc_ro8pIx9yHyMcizFgsGX1FJPnJeO3vv3lK0skIb_Cec6NUrOEA4dKmMKSbs70creWM8n3RBKufL/s1600/0117e6ee82828abe9fbd56516fbdba0e2da00fcb4e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq0JtbA4DTp9r5rhIHK_nayNEDxMctR0SMXLqhkR9jKq7uaWrog9gvO6W-9kOq13nvc_ro8pIx9yHyMcizFgsGX1FJPnJeO3vv3lK0skIb_Cec6NUrOEA4dKmMKSbs70creWM8n3RBKufL/s1600/0117e6ee82828abe9fbd56516fbdba0e2da00fcb4e.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I sit down on the edge of the path - <i>not that I am in anyone's way,</i> and start writing this post. The sun on my face, the sound of the birds, the rustle of the leaves, the breeze blowing my hair, I sit here and start dreaming. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYKd3djg4SyKRiXTlyQg6BSgdZWVRG4OcsPb8pxLGbUioUZhlaD7wKAh1spqBTY19ay3dybNXhD6016u6wwNd_bN_uaZw3ko4j6OXJCHP0RUOGc6p5pzwLP9jOuYxArSkH_SyuYAC3kL4N/s640/blogger-image-116635658.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYKd3djg4SyKRiXTlyQg6BSgdZWVRG4OcsPb8pxLGbUioUZhlaD7wKAh1spqBTY19ay3dybNXhD6016u6wwNd_bN_uaZw3ko4j6OXJCHP0RUOGc6p5pzwLP9jOuYxArSkH_SyuYAC3kL4N/s320/blogger-image-116635658.jpg" width="288" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdEvhKL-wpyris_YghDlLP5EJFBM3GNCJQNiJJeHU5Oj3uz7rVNkFO_cLZLJadng5TN_swS6ccLoRF_DgtnebVinpYo8IEWU1BYCDjMUVXUqrPZ5Ki41HAG6xhz0GkjyGxres51wA1RqQk/s1600/blogger-image--449324171.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdEvhKL-wpyris_YghDlLP5EJFBM3GNCJQNiJJeHU5Oj3uz7rVNkFO_cLZLJadng5TN_swS6ccLoRF_DgtnebVinpYo8IEWU1BYCDjMUVXUqrPZ5Ki41HAG6xhz0GkjyGxres51wA1RqQk/s200/blogger-image--449324171.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i>It's all in the mind, they say!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQcvehs2pOrZgXbr-zOXLs28TPatPDptuOGBxYzZzF2Qq2MbHhovhVH-qVbXAoqV1gCzkI9OcKK9eH37Jv6XJ-FVsJGilegBxyu6zSRQEyYdfKNbXvOaLjJ8HsgDjZ38Mc9iRBxCVEDdN6/s640/blogger-image--1966440227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></a></div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdEvhKL-wpyris_YghDlLP5EJFBM3GNCJQNiJJeHU5Oj3uz7rVNkFO_cLZLJadng5TN_swS6ccLoRF_DgtnebVinpYo8IEWU1BYCDjMUVXUqrPZ5Ki41HAG6xhz0GkjyGxres51wA1RqQk/s640/blogger-image--449324171.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></a></div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-36610709040859499802014-10-20T01:09:00.001+08:002014-10-29T11:39:17.544+08:00Diwali vs Halloween<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Strange title eh, </i>you might think. <i>After all what does Diwali, a traditional Indian Hindu festival have to do with Halloween, the 31st October costume parade? </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Quite a lot, </i>I would say.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>"I hate this thing!"</i> shouts my 6-year old as I make him try out his <i>kurta</i> for Diwali celebration in school. The same <i>kurta</i> was lovingly hand picked by me, during my recent visit to India, from dozens of similar colourful clothes. Visualizing how handsome my sons would look in it, I didn't mind exceeding my budget for these comfortable loose shirts. <i>"Fine, just wear what you want or just wear your uniform then!"</i> I stormed out of his room exasperated. My elder son who was a silent part of this drama, and who would have preferred to wear his football t-shirt, quietly donned on his <i>kurta</i> with a pair of jeans. He expected me to smile, to feel happy as he had followed my instructions, but I was quite indifferent by then. This is not what I had visualised. Fine, I knew there would be no squeals of delight or showers of <i>'Thank you mummy',</i> but downright refusal is something I can't accept. What's wrong? Why can't my kids <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2013/11/diwali.html" target="_blank">enjoy this festival</a> as much as I did when I was their age, a festival that is an integral part of their motherland?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXwvIzl8v-DCybJkf4XTJRDfLMEN4BLxm3Rwo4xYXYtkl7yfmy-quMjPwwIUabOY9b30IiPZsM4pB_jnJk7nibNvPdTCDfAUzoF8_C1s7R0_1B1bC0-jfp5bJA06_P6fQko9-NVy912xJT/s1600/diwali+greetings+2+(8).gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXwvIzl8v-DCybJkf4XTJRDfLMEN4BLxm3Rwo4xYXYtkl7yfmy-quMjPwwIUabOY9b30IiPZsM4pB_jnJk7nibNvPdTCDfAUzoF8_C1s7R0_1B1bC0-jfp5bJA06_P6fQko9-NVy912xJT/s1600/diwali+greetings+2+(8).gif" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's been more than 7 years now that we are living outside India, and although we do keep going back for <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2012/08/my-summer-holiday.html" target="_blank">summer holidays</a> and short breaks, we have never once gone back during the festival of Diwali, for one practical reason - we do not get Diwali holidays in school! But that doesn't stop us from celebrating the festival. Year after year I have taken the effort to light up diyas, decorate the house with lights and lamps, do small <i>poojas</i>, read Diwali stories, buy new traditional clothes for the family and even bring in some sparklers for the kids to light and enjoy! I also take the onus of <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2012/11/happy-diwali.html" target="_blank">celebrating Diwali </a>in their school or class, with their classmates, so that they don't think it's an alien concept. And yet after all these years.....</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoiOkJBjvfOPIGUNVPSWDULAV0qu20PHMSnyOsKArP6-wZN2ev9Jzk3lgviRH-e4Th58WGeE6e1TfsiUEtg2M8RLDMgMehpfZt7wM31jhXR20subyKVGTGP4oIvEkyVZXdpDjGUFBZRU0d/s1600/2013-10-17+13.31.33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoiOkJBjvfOPIGUNVPSWDULAV0qu20PHMSnyOsKArP6-wZN2ev9Jzk3lgviRH-e4Th58WGeE6e1TfsiUEtg2M8RLDMgMehpfZt7wM31jhXR20subyKVGTGP4oIvEkyVZXdpDjGUFBZRU0d/s1600/2013-10-17+13.31.33.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">You might say </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">Let it be!</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">Festivals are just not a 'boys' thing.</i> <i style="font-family: inherit;">What's the fun in wearing traditional outfits anyway? </i><span style="font-family: inherit;">But just wait another two weeks and see the excitement building up for another festival. Halloween - a festival to remember the dead, where according to me prayers, meditation and giving solace would have done more good to meet the objective, instead of dressing up as zombies, vampires and Draculas! Its not that I don't like dressing up. For the first couple of Halloweens I bought pumpkin costumes, cowboy hats, Spider-man and other superhero costumes for the boys, indulging in their fantasies, joining in the fun, although honestly we all had no clue about the real purpose of Halloween. I still remember, all those years ago, when we had visited the first house for </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">'trick or treat'</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> I was aghast at the cobwebs made to hang on the ceiling and the table 'decorated' with spiders with false blood stains on the door! </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">Really?</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> I thought to myself, </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">Aren't festivals all about cleaning and purifying self and our surroundings? Artificial cobwebs?</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> I just couldn't understand. Add to that the ''wonderful'' world of candies! All the pleading, </span>cajoling<span style="font-family: inherit;">, requesting and ordering the kids, all year round, not to eat these sugar bombs, is put to waste, by the big bags and boxes of candies that come home right after the festival. And the costumes - they are </span>certainly<span style="font-family: inherit;"> evolving - from being cute and meaningful to being downright ghoulish. There is no fuss to wear this outfit for sure as kids can't wait for 31st October to don their favourite costume of the dead! Again, I have been playing along with them, encouraging them to dress up in what they liked, face painting for them, buying accessories, going for and even calling kids over for 'trick or treat'. I even bought my very first cobweb to adorn my door!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2kzLBAW5f9-FVr10J9Y8e71cVDXss-Ms6EsjijT3uwue6vThXlvriYEpXXhmfFKVzw9za4fYv7qZ7wsrlqR02QWpVh4eyPa0yeJ3Yso7sKdJVjahpsRsSF5L3A_9gwWRR-gkf4NN6YXzd/s1600/2013-10-31+20.16.59.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2kzLBAW5f9-FVr10J9Y8e71cVDXss-Ms6EsjijT3uwue6vThXlvriYEpXXhmfFKVzw9za4fYv7qZ7wsrlqR02QWpVh4eyPa0yeJ3Yso7sKdJVjahpsRsSF5L3A_9gwWRR-gkf4NN6YXzd/s1600/2013-10-31+20.16.59.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When our kids are too little to understand things and participate like robots, we think its a matter of time till they grow up and learn to share our happiness and enthusiasm. But when they do grow up other things take priority in their lives and our grand plans seem to face a roadblock! </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">"But we did this every year, what's wrong now?"</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> asks a mother. If only a child would answer </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">I have grown up Mummy, that's whats wrong! </i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Its easy to say that I won't have any </span>expectations<span style="font-family: inherit;"> from my child. We all say that when our kids are small and yet we all demand the attention, the response that we think we deserve for all our hard work over the years. Its our hopes, our expectations, our dreams vs their wants, their priorities. It has happened in the past, is happening now and I am sure it will continue happening in the future. This eternal Diwali vs Halloween war!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Have you faced this kind of a situation with your children? Would love to hear your thoughts!</i></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-34275875415259210242014-10-06T20:42:00.001+08:002014-10-07T11:05:21.113+08:007 ways to beat the blues <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Its Monday morning. A perfectly bright, sunny day. <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2013/08/all-set-for-big-school-now.html" target="_blank">Kids at school,</a> husband in office, leaving a good part of the day free for me, to do what I choose to do. I can hear the birds chirping, toddlers laughing as they splash about in the pool, ships sounding their sirens in the distance, a <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2013/03/its-springtime-folks.html" target="_blank">perfectly beautiful day</a>. Maybe I could go for a walk up the mountains, meet a friend for lunch or go shopping to buy that much-needed hair serum. Yet all I can manage to do is lift my coffee mug and take a small sip of the burning hot liquid. I can't seem to figure out what I am feeling or why I am feeling what I am feeling? Its a state of inertia, a confusion of some sort, maybe with a hint of melancholy - I just can't seem to understand the range of these dead-pan emotions that are keeping me rooted to my chair.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
Has this ever happened to you? When nothing, absolutely nothing is really wrong and yet you are <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2014/04/feeling-blue.html" target="_blank">feeling blue.</a> It refuses to go and makes you feel miserable for no obvious reason. It could last for a few hours or sometimes even days, the weather could add to too. It is hard to break through the dullness and the more lethargic you feel, the more it grips you.<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>That's enough now</i> I tell myself as I pull out my laptop and sign into my blogger account. One has to be able to break out of it. Even it takes every ounce of my strength to move out of my chair and get my hands working and mind ticking. Two and half paragraphs down I am already feeling a bit better as my emotions come pouring out.<br />
<br />
So what do you when you are feeling down? Here are some tried and tested methods, in no particular order, that I have used in the past. Keep them handy for the next bout of blues-<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGfdq1gLQBalx0UaxdjVYatu2w_nPHSb45w7GMoNnLsu5dmuHBl7DlpBK8-0CQc3cMfB8xdR8zbhVDd9dV7kVJ7qBOCp1nJpOZab49RwZyYg4vk_j2BpZ27vF09DgSKhOndRAmU0-dqsk1/s1600/1439221467_c8bfd118cb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGfdq1gLQBalx0UaxdjVYatu2w_nPHSb45w7GMoNnLsu5dmuHBl7DlpBK8-0CQc3cMfB8xdR8zbhVDd9dV7kVJ7qBOCp1nJpOZab49RwZyYg4vk_j2BpZ27vF09DgSKhOndRAmU0-dqsk1/s1600/1439221467_c8bfd118cb.jpg" height="280" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>1. Take a stroll by the beach.</b> If you don't live close enough to one then just walk in a shady boulevard or go for a <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2013/05/1000-steps-to-hidden-world.html" target="_blank">gentle hike.</a> Be surrounded by nature. You will be amazed at how quickly the natural world can heal you. The sounds of the waves lapping at the shore, the rustle of the leaves, the drones of the bees can break out of your melancholy. </div>
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>2. Ever thrown stones in the water?</b> Maybe when you were little. This is what my 6-year old does when he is upset or sometimes just for fun. Whether it is in a pond, sea or even a puddle, a simple action like this can vent out pent-up frustrations, even imaginary ones! I had a competition recently with my son, to see who can hurtle pebbles furthest out in the sea. I hadn't expected it to be so much fun and my inexplicable zombie state was soon forgotten! </div>
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>3. Release those endorphins </b>- Haven't we read enough about its benefits and its direct effect on our moods? So quit staring at the screen and go for that run outdoors. Have a swimming pool in your building? Then use it or go for a quick gym workout. Look at the positives, the more the blue phases the more well-toned your body!<br />
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>4. <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2012/05/my-kids-before-my-kids.html" target="_blank">Play with a pet </a></b>- Now that's one thing I would love to do at this moment. I remember those quiet afternoons sitting in solitude with my dogs, playing with their fur, stroking their ears or just lying down next to them, secure in the knowledge that they love me unconditionally, with the deepest sort of loyalty that no money can buy. That thought itself is guaranteed to pull you out of the darkest moods, bringing you immense joy and satisfaction.</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>5. Do a mundane activity</b> - mop the floor, vacuum, tidy the bookshelf, or <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2012/09/the-joys-of-ironing_29.html" target="_blank">iron your pile of clothes. </a>Besides the physical exertion that these jobs demand, the monotony of its routine can help you break through that inertia and might take the edginess off you. </div>
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>6. Be creative</b> - paint, draw, cook, pot a plant- anything that helps you use your grey cells and gives you a sense of achievement.<br />
<br />
<b>7. Pamper yourself </b>- Go for facial, a manicure or those eye-lash extensions that you have always been wanting to try. Now is the time to make yourself <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2013/08/am-i-looking-good.html" target="_blank">feel good, look pretty</a>. Nail extensions, hot oil treatments, the world is waiting out there for you!<br />
<br />
Whatever you do, do NOT just sit around idle. So get up and do something NOW! </div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-17007100923444691862014-09-28T18:50:00.002+08:002014-09-28T18:50:39.518+08:00SUMMER has its own facebook page!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So excited to launch a facebook page for my own home-venture! Feelings came pouring out in these words.....</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizwyaU2JLGlJfXWzWSXACnk8Tz0Zgore68sMUjCEk7VhVagT_0U5V4Y5fdGVrpWRzWp-of4_n0IDU7adfWp5VmazWQVnGMbNOEXYe50MzqnlQVWTr8tG5L8mGSLsAMPzbQkKjZMImKYt6M/s1600/Untitled.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizwyaU2JLGlJfXWzWSXACnk8Tz0Zgore68sMUjCEk7VhVagT_0U5V4Y5fdGVrpWRzWp-of4_n0IDU7adfWp5VmazWQVnGMbNOEXYe50MzqnlQVWTr8tG5L8mGSLsAMPzbQkKjZMImKYt6M/s1600/Untitled.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Would love to have your encouragement and support. So please go and ''like'' my page @ <a href="https://www.facebook.com/summer.garments" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/summer.garments</a> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Thank you!</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-46045289134018451672014-09-11T14:19:00.001+08:002015-02-01T16:47:06.459+08:00From MBA to SAHM<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I wake up this morning with a sense of purpose. <i>'I have to clean out the kitchen cabinet today,'</i> I think out loud. Besides I have an early lunch appointment with a dear friend this afternoon so I must hurry up, I tell myself. I march out of the bedroom with a sense of purpose, all ready to start my day.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Mornings are by far the busiest time of the day for me. Preparing packed lunches for the boys, washing the dishes, taking them to the school bus, finishing my daily workout, tidying up the house, and before I know it two hours are gone! <br />
<a name='more'></a>It is only in the shower much later that my thoughts went back to my plan-for-the-day and I realised how frivolous my tasks sounded. Compared to my husband's, who probably might be in the middle of an important target setting meeting at work, or my childrens' who might be struggling with mental maths at school, or even their teacher's who might be going through the daily time-table dealing with thirty kids in class trying to maintain order. Suddenly my cabinet cleaning task sounded like a very mediocre thing to do. Like what a side-character artist feels amongst the main actors of a film! I mean who would really care if the cabinet was clean or not, if the bookshelf was tidied up or not. At the end of the day it is only my eyes that derive satisfaction in it's order. What kind of a job do I do? There is no performance appraisal, no stars given for good work. Nothing. Seriously, is this what I had done my MBA for? All those years of education, those sleepless nights studying for exams, all that money spent by my parents on college and tuition fees? All of that .......to have a cabinet cleaning job at the end? <i>'That's it!' </i>I call out loud. <i>'I quit!'</i> I am giving up home making and getting a fancy job, where one can wear fancy formal clothes, high heels and look pretty by the computer all day. Have cappuccinos at meetings, go for after-work drinks not to mention that lovely salary slip that one gets at the end of each month. At least I won't have to feel guilty about buying the husband a gift on his birthday from his own money! I can treat myself more often, maybe the spa at the Mandarin Oriental or the...<br />
<br />
Beep....beep. I break out of my reverie at the sound of the incoming message on the phone. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
3 new messages.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>Want to go on a hike up the Peak tomorrow? </i><br />
<i>Year 2 school mums are meeting up on Friday for coffee, can you join? </i><br />
<i>Trying to call you, all the girls are wearing pink today for lunch....just in case you forget!</i> </div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oh no! Pink! I hurry to my wardrobe and yank in open, deep in thought, adjusting my eyes to all things pink in there.<br />
<br />
15 minutes later I am out of the door wearing a cute frilly pink dress that I had wanted to wear in a very long time time, furiously texting away while waiting for the lift<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Yes hike sounds great! See you tomorrow at 8!</i><br />
<i>Of course I can! Shall I bake cup cakes to bring in?</i><br />
<br />
Finally in the bus, on my way to lunch, I sit down and let my thoughts wander on my 'shower hysteria'. Hmm....so if I start working in an office, would I be able to do all this? Lunch with friends? Walk up the hills? Jog in the park? <i>Oh! </i>I put a hand on my mouth to stop myself from saying it out loud. So this is it! This my "salary", my perks, for being a home-maker for so long! I can do what I want, be what I want and among the many other benefits I have the flexibility to change my job role everyday, every single day! Now can any salaried employee boast of that? And if ever... if ever the MBA bug tries to bite me again I will show him my newly printed visiting card.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHan_l6ZavDoVD5lGDoGGVpzgYjRntB734ZCk3iBBh7VUNZ7NMJND4Po0i2Qk6wBeR4y2X7JO68cyS3wnX0klMoOelMiWx86pTsELXlSx6j26MhImQqOO2XjzoL9iP-ZZP1mEvL7-51Xb_/s1600/IMG_3318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHan_l6ZavDoVD5lGDoGGVpzgYjRntB734ZCk3iBBh7VUNZ7NMJND4Po0i2Qk6wBeR4y2X7JO68cyS3wnX0klMoOelMiWx86pTsELXlSx6j26MhImQqOO2XjzoL9iP-ZZP1mEvL7-51Xb_/s1600/IMG_3318.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUPa2SMx5N84anqQ21-0OWEzvwDn0BTs2wy7gWhreWYo8T7K3hL4mxHRuI_dEMmGxeCbLSXuau7VuStVkp6xjsmCuRHQceE5NgC6Yr0jbqgxpYb2_V8V6x0h-4LNAj2koMOWN6MCPuJo1q/s1600/IMG_3316.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUPa2SMx5N84anqQ21-0OWEzvwDn0BTs2wy7gWhreWYo8T7K3hL4mxHRuI_dEMmGxeCbLSXuau7VuStVkp6xjsmCuRHQceE5NgC6Yr0jbqgxpYb2_V8V6x0h-4LNAj2koMOWN6MCPuJo1q/s1600/IMG_3316.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2013/08/shorts-tops-dresses-and-more-for-sale.html" target="_blank">SUMMER</a> - my home business venture, and of course my passion, <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2012/09/leaving-corporate-world-biggest-role.html" target="_blank">From Miss India to Motherhood.</a> I am doing well to keep my MBA inputs active, I would say. Maybe the visiting card would be more complete if I add <i>SAHM (Stay At Home Mother) </i>as my designation <i>- </i> After all cabinet cleaning is not everyone's cup of tea, is it? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">“</span><em style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">This post is a part of<a href="http://useyourand.blogadda.com/" target="_blank"> <span style="color: #b85b5a;">#UseYourAnd</span></a> activity at <a href="http://www.blogadda.com/" target="_blank">BlogAdda</a> in association with <a href="https://www.facebook.com/GilletteVenusIndia" target="_blank"><span style="color: #b85b5a;">Gillette Venus</span>“</a>.</em></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-64109801865325219892014-08-26T22:55:00.000+08:002014-10-07T23:17:29.681+08:00"Sorry ya, the line got cut!"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>"Jis vyakti se aap sampark karna chahte hain, woh vyakti is samay vyast hain, kripya line par rahe ya thodi der baad dial kare" (the person you wish to speak to is busy at the moment, please stay on the line or call back later). </i>The calm, soothing recorded voice played over and over again on the phone in different languages- first in Hindi, then in Marathi and then in English. All this while I am seething at the other end, using the hold on option and willing someone to pick up the phone! That way at least I have some hope that the person I am calling might pick up the phone. It's when I hear this that I lose all my patience, <i>"Aap jis number ko dial kar rahe hain voh number moujood nahin hain!" (The number you are trying to call is not present.) </i>Now this is something I refuse to believe as I would have dialled that very number a zillion times in the past!<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div>
<br />
<div>
It's great to come on a holiday to my home town Mumbai and stay connected to my roots, it's a different story that this 'connection' takes up all my patience, understanding and the love that I have for this country. Every year when I come here I use a local sim card. I dutifully put in the required money for local and international calls and also for internet and data connectivity, thinking I am all covered. That cover however is pretty flimsy, like having a delicate Japanese umbrella for the Mumbai monsoon. I have a feeling of protection but get drenched anyway.<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
The building that I live in is quite old, so it is not very network friendly. Every time I have to make a simple call I have to rush to the balcony. In order to get a smooth connection that can last upto 5 minutes, I have to lean my body out of my balcony, clutching on to my dear IPhone 5S punctuating my conversation with <i>"Sorry? I can't hear you?" "Shall I call you again?" "Sorry ya, got cut!" </i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When<i> </i>I step out of my house and manage to get good network, I have another problem to deal with - the 'vyakti' (individual) is always busy! But then there is no use cursing a recorded voice message. I think part of the problem lies in the endless number of phone calls that people make out here. These are not essential calls in my opinion, things that I would normally <i>what's app</i> or text about about back in Hong Kong. A call to a friend to plan a dinner, a call to the neighbour to ask if she has extra eggs, a call to the football coach to ask if there is practice today, a call confirming the time of a meeting, a call to say you are on your way, a call to say that you might be late and a call to say that you have reached! All these calls certainly cut out that individual who might be stranded in the middle of the road and desperately needs to connect. And yet "...<i>....kripya thodi der baad dial kare!" </i><br />
<br />
Ok so that was my view for the first two weeks I was in Mumbai. I refused to give in to the 'calling' system. I texted my friends about dinner plans, I ran down to the neighbour's if I needed eggs, I <i>what's app-ed</i> the football coach, the bank manager and everyone else I wanted to meet. Simple, isn't it? That is <i>if</i> the job got done! My friends messaged me back, we fixed the venue and date, but the time was never fixed<i> "I will call you when I leave home."</i> Knocking on my neighbour's door would yield nothing as the neighbour wouldn't be at home and the football coach never replied as he had no connectivity in his area! The bank meeting never happened too. "<i>Oh, I wasn't sure if the meeting was confirmed" </i>Says the senior manager of a reputed International bank. <i>"After all you never called me to confirm Ma'am!" </i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Finally by week 4 in Mumbai I surrendered myself to the system, joining the "calling" bandwagon. My phone became my latest accessory - glued to my hand, hung on to my neck or stuck to my ear in any awkward position. Needless to mention the balcony became my favourite place to be in my home! </div>
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ce3quhE8ZS6XSvhgqM5A6gnIZ0wxoPgBXVXxYryNLDnz6fr4ala76dQqaNL28igMQWKLN3rkz_EsdqqoRF4mAAU0maEiiM6UrllT8NjW9D0gd2KpfGbI5ujVcYrP9pOL5NS9T9_7uvae/s640/blogger-image-357852081.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ce3quhE8ZS6XSvhgqM5A6gnIZ0wxoPgBXVXxYryNLDnz6fr4ala76dQqaNL28igMQWKLN3rkz_EsdqqoRF4mAAU0maEiiM6UrllT8NjW9D0gd2KpfGbI5ujVcYrP9pOL5NS9T9_7uvae/s640/blogger-image-357852081.jpg" /></a></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-31975328296653885552014-08-19T11:22:00.000+08:002014-10-06T23:01:02.500+08:00Mumbai - the 'sandwich' city!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeY-9ofZa_UTPohuewcJOcY759jz9mAu5EsvTi3ElC2CrTlzNsuLv3zqODE4MtrXE-rf0WVilOj4KJWMbyLwA55FsnfBA8F9KuvBRSU1TZ0AWjR9hLgK404JVJ03JvnXegO_7qiOHtMRT0/s1600/blogger-image-1563587272.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeY-9ofZa_UTPohuewcJOcY759jz9mAu5EsvTi3ElC2CrTlzNsuLv3zqODE4MtrXE-rf0WVilOj4KJWMbyLwA55FsnfBA8F9KuvBRSU1TZ0AWjR9hLgK404JVJ03JvnXegO_7qiOHtMRT0/s1600/blogger-image-1563587272.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's 6:20 am and as I laze around gently swinging on the cane chair in my balcony, listening to the sweet chirping of the birds, feeling the cool monsoon breeze in my hair and the quiet solitude, it is hard to believe that I am in the city of </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Mumbai. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Give it </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">a couple of hours and the same place will metamorphosise into something totally different. The park opposite that now stands empty will be filled with young enthusiastic boys playing football, the school right behind my house will start filling in with children, their eager parents dropping them off filling the narrow streets with their bulky cars and filling the air with their non-stop honking sounds. </span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">Then the daily vendors - the newspaper-wala, the doodh-wala (milkman), the istri-wala (ironing man), the bhaji-wala (vegetable vendor) fill in the few peaceful sound bytes with their loud calls. Almost in the span of a few hours this place will turn into what it is famous for - a gaudy, cacophonous mayhem of people and noises. </span><br />
<div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Once that happens you can never be alone here. This very peaceful balcony that I run to, when my senses are too overwhelmed with the 'love' and 'warmth' extended by the city, is also not a safe place to hide, as a neighbour passing by might spot me and try making a conversation from two levels below or the bhangar-wala (recycle-man - if I may call him?)<i> </i>might see me catching a wink and call out <i>"Bai, kai bhangar che?"</i> (Madam, do you have anything to re-cycle?") Out in public - in a local train <i>"Bai jara sarka" </i>(Please shift in a bit), in a building lift <i>"Thoda andar jaaon"</i> (Please move in a bit). Waiting patiently in the pouring rain for my roadside chutney sandwich to get made, I can't help but relate all the cut vegetables being about to get crushed into a sandwich toaster, to our lives outside, with extra cheese of course! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's amazing how people infiltrate each other's lives here. What's more amazing is how this invasion of privacy becomes your safety net when you really need something done, or need someone in case of an emergency. You do not have to think twice before stopping a stranger on the road, asking him to give your broken-down car a little 'dhakka' (push) or before barging into your neighbour's house asking that she look after your sick child till you finish your errands or walking into your friend's house for an impromptu tea-break! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It is this dependency, this ''ease'' of life that stopped me from moving out of my country for a very long time and now the same factors make me hesitate from wanting to settle back here. However a few weeks of living here and the city will</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> slowly and steadily creep up on you, catch you unaware and sandwich you, in it's love, it's devotion, it's culture, it's colours, it's population, it's poverty and it's dependency. Just six weeks into it and I have to shake that 'needy' feeling off and get geared for life back in Hong Kong. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHi4bMfmtfv9q9Y_JM1EYev5gOyIMqW3PwItzBClMJ4onfX2ZPZDfE0diFfhrYSPut5BOIeNCa71b4-JdId3BXCZmaiQ00NJaDP8sCpte6542R6aJ1SO70JDJJb0-O36yGvzci6W2spryF/s1600/blogger-image--230159082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHi4bMfmtfv9q9Y_JM1EYev5gOyIMqW3PwItzBClMJ4onfX2ZPZDfE0diFfhrYSPut5BOIeNCa71b4-JdId3BXCZmaiQ00NJaDP8sCpte6542R6aJ1SO70JDJJb0-O36yGvzci6W2spryF/s200/blogger-image--230159082.jpg" width="150" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">There are thousands like me who wish to stay away from this mayhem and yet year after year come running back to get assaulted! Even the birds don't leave you alone here as this crow is cawing out loud, non-stop perched on my balcony sill!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDBfV-Two8k-n__FFOB9FNZ3KkAwdkjyP2kmIiyjpWbqrXA0XpP3Xd9P7UjupdeYn2cCY4u2hltA7WPfbvB7n1fBq_GRBLlWW09OO1YsCWJv5vIBk2JwyAZFwxWF8KzDYHgHLexukit3F_/s640/blogger-image--1436768392.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-39105589083238139052014-08-05T02:45:00.003+08:002014-10-12T21:58:27.328+08:00A Family Holiday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">One of the highlights of my summer holiday in India this year, was a short trip to a private planned city being built near Pune called<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lavasa" target="_blank"> Lavasa. </a>This trip was more to do with <i>whom</i> I had gone with rather than the destination. I started writing about it as a narrative as usual but realised that there was so much to write and so many details to provide that only a rhyme might do it justice. Attempting to share my memories of this wonderful holiday with you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcbGqCc0fGib1UTqbGxA8Kl4DLkS-sdmvqlcav7KHvJBGExb5hEvPl3n3XUyonjFRW9kOXc3RLtXNvkYTU88FfT1_GvR9G68PVfKREJtVKGWsJqan_-3hyjAtQVPEsfXbkSTQaj1-eU_UI/s1600/IMG_2243.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcbGqCc0fGib1UTqbGxA8Kl4DLkS-sdmvqlcav7KHvJBGExb5hEvPl3n3XUyonjFRW9kOXc3RLtXNvkYTU88FfT1_GvR9G68PVfKREJtVKGWsJqan_-3hyjAtQVPEsfXbkSTQaj1-eU_UI/s1600/IMG_2243.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">en-route to Lavasa</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It started with an idea</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
An intention to have fun,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The date was chosen and fixed<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The preparations had begun.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A WhatsApp group was formed<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Excitement shared, fears heard<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>What are you planning to carry?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Or shall we decide the destination first?</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And so it went on and on<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Discussions and suggestions
galore,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The day was drawing closer<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The packing piled up all the more.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a Saturday morning <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Busy and bustling no doubt<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The car boots over loaded<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Like we were heading for a drought!<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The men then took some time <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To discuss the route in parts,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The kids were getting impatient<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The holiday had to start!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And soon we were on our way<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Leaving the city and grime,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One car leading the
procession<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
5 cars following behind.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The drive was lovely but quite long<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Filled with songs from
yesteryear,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The route was so scenic and green<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That we forgot to take the right
turn!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nevertheless we reached<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All safe and sound at least,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Grabbing my room keys I ran<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I needed a place to rest in peace.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once all the cars trickled in<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All peace and quiet was gone<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kids ran around helter-skelter<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The hotel was now made home.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Meal times were the craziest<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A quiet observer I had become,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For while my kids had grown up<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The rest were just 3 or 2 or 1.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB8lZPwAfRfomQwyVy2OBU2VA3wEWhJ-MIDGAWqdgV2RAS4zI6OiFRaUCbuNKKddES67zuVQXE1EPv7kuQExtAf3Pz6yVQpbisnBng22bgzPD9q_jiGZiwvcwZsYL9D6nzmJVv1FiJ5PBI/s1600/IMG_2339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB8lZPwAfRfomQwyVy2OBU2VA3wEWhJ-MIDGAWqdgV2RAS4zI6OiFRaUCbuNKKddES67zuVQXE1EPv7kuQExtAf3Pz6yVQpbisnBng22bgzPD9q_jiGZiwvcwZsYL9D6nzmJVv1FiJ5PBI/s1600/IMG_2339.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hungry kids hard to manage<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mothering styles put to test,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dads hovering near the kitchen<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Grand dads longing for some rest<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh and did I forget the grand
mums?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
‘Been there and done that’ types<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Advice flowing out faster than a
river<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Why couldn't these daughters get it right!</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And when it was time to take a
stroll<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just to get everyone together
took a toll<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A smile here and a pose there<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a photographer’s nightmare!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKaOr5JNzVY6rKhs0wYMP9FMXD1qjadwqiDUZyDEi02lw8N4nqLfXl0moleGWTRE-VLiTABVuBUkIQ2M6C_nsSOOKfLcPRcEp8O7lX5GuziyQsHdLlvhRe1WMo5ac9XBDeci20_NyC-IRB/s1600/IMG_2310.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKaOr5JNzVY6rKhs0wYMP9FMXD1qjadwqiDUZyDEi02lw8N4nqLfXl0moleGWTRE-VLiTABVuBUkIQ2M6C_nsSOOKfLcPRcEp8O7lX5GuziyQsHdLlvhRe1WMo5ac9XBDeci20_NyC-IRB/s1600/IMG_2310.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Family holiday - July 2014</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Soon it was time to leave<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And amidst all the confusion and grief<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One thing we all agreed and shouted out<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Family holidays are the very
best, no doubt!</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-15341164556073910282014-07-17T02:53:00.002+08:002014-10-12T21:41:06.260+08:00A rejuvenating holiday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Define ''Rejuvenate'' <span style="font-family: inherit;">- </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 17.454545974731445px;">to make young again; restore to youthful </span></span><span style="line-height: 17.454545974731445px;">vigour</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 17.454545974731445px;">, appearance, </span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16.363636016845703px; line-height: 17.454545974731445px;">to restore to a former state; make fresh or new again. That's exactly how I feel after my recent holiday.</span><br />
<br />
I feel so rested, relaxed and at peace with everything. I can't remember the last time I had such delicious meals or slept so soundly, a slumber so deep that not even my 6-year sitting on top of me could disturb. I can't remember the last time I woke up with such freshness and zeal and more important with a profound sense of serenity.<br />
<br />
So where do you think I had gone for this perfect holiday? <br />
<a name='more'></a>No it wasn't the Swiss Alps, neither was it a religious holiday to Rishikesh nor a rip-roaring holiday to the French Riviera. It was just a simple, one-night trip to one of my most favourite holiday spots. <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.in/2012/07/lonavla.html" target="_blank">Lonavla</a> - a hill station nestled in the lush, green Sahyadri ranges in Maharashtra, just a 2 hour drive from Mumbai. It was a quick, affordable and a last-minute holiday and one that made me ponder and put together the <i>essential ingredients</i> of a perfect holiday. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZX_al-b_TWN61M6GHy6mf3xe9vQuR1WGqgLGI81tln-K4r-VCHys71Od8n0emKNh9jFPd4Lqn84HSHJwUvQ7j9ijTH-Xx4UUC5l3Nx9O96fMVvzYtdHM9C4CFhuEi9qoRkMcWtL8AQksT/s1600/Lonavala8-AM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZX_al-b_TWN61M6GHy6mf3xe9vQuR1WGqgLGI81tln-K4r-VCHys71Od8n0emKNh9jFPd4Lqn84HSHJwUvQ7j9ijTH-Xx4UUC5l3Nx9O96fMVvzYtdHM9C4CFhuEi9qoRkMcWtL8AQksT/s1600/Lonavala8-AM.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
1. <b>The journey </b>- They say that sometimes the journey becomes more important than the destination. It is so true as I have had some wonderful holidays borne out of truly fascinating journeys. Whether it is a a lively conversation with your journey partner, or a few thoughtful silent hours gazing at the passing landscape, enjoying your journey can be just the start of a memorable holiday. In my case we drove to Lonavala in my mother's car, with her at the wheel, zipping through, breaking speed limits, blasting old 1940-50s Hindi songs on the speakers, and me at the back squashed in with three boys in the age range of 6-10 years who couldn't sit still, there was never a dull moment. My cousin lounged comfortably in the front seat next to my mother having a loud animated conversation with her, completely oblivious to the other high decimal levels around!<br />
<div>
<br />
2. <b>A soul-mate</b> - While I have spent some holidays in solitude, some in small groups and some in larger numbers, what really makes a difference is having that one person with you who you can truly associate yourself with. That person could be your spouse, it could be your sister or it could be a close friend. In my case I was lucky to have my very dear cousin accompany me. Our childhood memories, our past holidays, our present joys, our future plans and anxieties were all brought up and discussed in great detail, taking joy in enjoying each other's company late into the night.<br />
<br />
3. <b>A love for nature</b> - One of the things that we often look up while planning a holiday is ''Things to do". While some people look for shopping places, some for night-life, some want to find restaurants offering local cuisine, of late I have started looking for ways and means of getting close to nature. Listening to birds sing, taking a walk on the off-beaten path, feasting my eyes on miles and miles of lush, green valleys, are some of things that I want included in my holidays. Lonavala offers all of this and more specially during the peak monsoon season, when the mountains and valleys get a new lease of life and start breathing again after being choked up by urban developments and the summer heat. As a child I used to get excited as soon as we reached the first tunnel on the Western Ghats, signalling the green, open surroundings that would follow soon after.<br />
<br />
4. <b>The destination</b> - Last but not the least is the destination. Though most of us always aim to go to new places, <em>see the world</em>, enjoy new delights; sometimes re-visiting a much-visited destination or staying in a much-loved holiday resort can bring happiness in uncontrolled measures. In my case it is my bungalow in Lonavala that does not fail to delight me every time I go there, be it rain or sun-shine. It is a place where I have safeguarded and stored some of my earliest memories and I like to leave them behind every time I leave that place. The best way I like to enjoy those memories is to make a visit with my mother and my cousins who all have some kind of association with that bungalow. Memories that come to life during our conversations blessing us with peace and tranquillity that no other destination can match.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-52740819482648212762014-07-07T09:05:00.000+08:002014-10-12T21:42:48.491+08:00Why do I blog?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">It's midnight...way past my bedtime. My aching limbs are longing to curl up under the thick quilt, my back wants to stretch out in bed, and yet I am ignoring all those signals, straining my eyes to finish writing what I started. And when I do all the pain just seems to melt away as a sense of pure satisfaction and relaxation creeps in. I fall down in bed to a deep undisturbed sleep. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;"></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">I started blogging more than two years ago. Some random thoughts, the need to communicate and a bit of spare time gave birth to the idea. Encouraged by family and some other like-minded bloggers in cyber-space, one fine day in the month of May 2012 <a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.in/" target="_blank">From Miss India to Motherhood</a> was born. Finalising the blog title was easy. No arguments, debates or short-lists for that one. It was simple, it was clear, it was the story of my life. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; line-height: 18px;">Now that was about formal writing. Informally I think I have been a writer all my life. My earliest <i>'work'</i> consisted of a small hand-written notes, on varied pieces of paper, talking about</span></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; line-height: 18px;"> happy occasions or to reflecting past not-so-happy memories. One such note was addressed to God, when I was around 7, urging him to help me find my missing puppy, and promising him my full faith and belief in His existence, in return. A</span></span><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">fter days and weeks of waiting when the pup did not materialise, I started skippin</span>g my prayers, questioned his existence and his purpose on Earth. Thankfully another incident a few years later helped me revive my faith. This time there was no note written!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; line-height: 18px;">Scribbled rhymes, made-up verses, ramblings of everyday life turned to diary writing when I was 15. I liked sitting with my diary for ten minutes at the end of each day, letting my thoughts flow on paper. These thoughts and feelings though on the same lines as my blog today were very private. In fact I remember buying one of those diaries that one could lock away with a key! </span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; line-height: 18px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVgUnZk-rRJ4GrD98nPTc36LvuxhLlnxtEvtYWqJC5tBebBOzQ_k7Rb0FvSQ5y-z_vrFpey5F-pKui2YJk4ZM2CBF4Eq4nFQz3ypO0arF8wF8U5xgdRG13T3OFSlODooBbGjd1J6m2NkCH/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVgUnZk-rRJ4GrD98nPTc36LvuxhLlnxtEvtYWqJC5tBebBOzQ_k7Rb0FvSQ5y-z_vrFpey5F-pKui2YJk4ZM2CBF4Eq4nFQz3ypO0arF8wF8U5xgdRG13T3OFSlODooBbGjd1J6m2NkCH/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; line-height: 18px;">Diary writing then gave way to more detailed writing about one particular subject or event. Something that was deeply emotional like the passing away of my dogs or something exciting that I was looking forward to - like my entire pregnancy documented! I have also written about a few memorable holidays, like the ones to Tenerife, Spain and Cornwall in England. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: #f9f9f9;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Writing like any other form of art brings happiness and a deep sense of satisfaction. And while some form of writing works best when it is private; making your thoughts and feelings known to the world brings in a different kind of energy. After I write each post, I check it for errors and then can't wait to click on the 'Publish' button, so that the world can read my words, see what I see and feel what I feel. Each 'like', each comment after that is an added bonus filling my cup of happiness to the brim. Honestly I don't mind a bit of overflow too, so go ahead and share your thoughts with me!</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; font-size: 12.800000190734863px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<i>A note of thanks to co-blogger <a href="http://www.beingzoesmom.co.in/2014/07/why-do-i-blog.html" target="_blank">Being Zoes Mum</a><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; line-height: 18px;"> for giving me the idea of today's blogging topic.</span></i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-81999899597793543982014-06-15T15:56:00.000+08:002014-10-12T21:43:18.924+08:00Kids Dailies Hong Kong - a review<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Today I had a lovely, quiet Saturday afternoon with my 6-year old. We spent almost an hour looking through some past <a href="http://kidsdailies.com/" target="_blank">Kids Dailies.</a> It was a little over a month ago when we started receiving these daily newspapers in the post. Daily 7 for my 6-year old and Daily 10 for my 10-year old.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheNhJXoUDoTyNiho6S01fGAh6u_ta9hgdyzHx5P55wlFVklWTIeSROLC4XQonlqvA4oER-kQhfRK9MotZmDEjjKHdQZ0CR4vMiLWn3ExmuB6kG7HGNbHJtYZMdW56Dk5CKmddOSFEDL9u_/s1600/images+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheNhJXoUDoTyNiho6S01fGAh6u_ta9hgdyzHx5P55wlFVklWTIeSROLC4XQonlqvA4oER-kQhfRK9MotZmDEjjKHdQZ0CR4vMiLWn3ExmuB6kG7HGNbHJtYZMdW56Dk5CKmddOSFEDL9u_/s1600/images+(1).jpg" /></a><br />
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjfbAp3qrdwdFUxsD4vf0naIssh_6ww83EdUNOKnPDSoMQvvCFCxbzm6CyaIGyb2T-U4A0URuHgFz44srP_1KLm605MPZanDVn7pwuWqGRwLnjrdBceyhvE3nMXqqrMpjDfuSgTLZRP5v/s1600/download+(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjfbAp3qrdwdFUxsD4vf0naIssh_6ww83EdUNOKnPDSoMQvvCFCxbzm6CyaIGyb2T-U4A0URuHgFz44srP_1KLm605MPZanDVn7pwuWqGRwLnjrdBceyhvE3nMXqqrMpjDfuSgTLZRP5v/s1600/download+(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjfbAp3qrdwdFUxsD4vf0naIssh_6ww83EdUNOKnPDSoMQvvCFCxbzm6CyaIGyb2T-U4A0URuHgFz44srP_1KLm605MPZanDVn7pwuWqGRwLnjrdBceyhvE3nMXqqrMpjDfuSgTLZRP5v/s1600/download+(3).jpg" /></a></div>
</div>
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /><br />
The first week there was a mad rush for the letter box to see who could get their daily first! Rushing upstairs the boys would barely be through the door before they would start ripping off the plastic cover too see their Daily. I literally had to get them both off their dailies in order to have a snack and get the afternoon going with their activities.<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The dailies would come in handy at bedtime though as a little treat post their school reading just before they went off to sleep. I like to read the Daily 7 along with my 6-year old starting with showing him the day and date in the paper and then moving on to the front page photograph and talking about it. The centre spread usually covers news (using large pictures and lesser text) from different countries with a nice map of the world at the side highlighting <i>Where do today's stories come from? </i>The back cover of the paper normally has puzzles, spot the difference and other hands-on activities which we leave for weekends. Fridays would bring in double issues for both Friday and Saturday.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2doZWyfafhGgE732o68jobI67WGu8YeYJuiMt3XWtk8y_C3G49cGvzPKcilKcxWFGBKepc0VZ8izbHAEJGLT5U9jV6ebAIkAeDrmvaL5kW_hiyHHwyoDGqFPD9JJMxNQq2YrtixWTLsB/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2doZWyfafhGgE732o68jobI67WGu8YeYJuiMt3XWtk8y_C3G49cGvzPKcilKcxWFGBKepc0VZ8izbHAEJGLT5U9jV6ebAIkAeDrmvaL5kW_hiyHHwyoDGqFPD9JJMxNQq2YrtixWTLsB/s1600/photo.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Daily 10 though on similar lines as Daily 7 is clearly for an older audience giving more detailed information along with a little dictionary on the side for challenging words. It covers history, geography, news and includes relevant topics under each head. Though I did not personally get a chance to read much of Daily 10, I know my elder son really enjoyed reading it. </div>
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
The dailies also turn up at the breakfast table the following day keeping the boys quiet and out of mischief and giving me the much needed breather at that busy time of the day.</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
However after the first few weeks the excitement does die down. Kids Dailies offer a monthly subscription at a great value price of HK$ 88, however they require a minimum 6 months subscription which in my opinion is too long to sustain interest. Ideally one should have a month-by-month subscription offer so that parents can pace the dailies out for their kids. The great news is that they have a weekly trial offer so one can get a feel of the paper at no cost!<br />
<br />
Another recommendation would be to cancel the Saturday issue, as I feel that the weekend is full of activities and family get-together leaving no time to read this issue. In fact the child should see it as a school-day routine to bring in the interest and discipline to read. Also I wish the plastic covers of the issues are replaced with eco-friendly paper envelopes.<br />
<br />
To summarise the Kids Dailies are a great source of information, entertainment and motivation to read for children, who love receiving their own personal post everyday!</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-75523055594727008202014-06-05T23:05:00.001+08:002014-10-12T21:44:20.537+08:00Trinity CertTESOL course <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's over. <i>(Please note the absence of an exclamation mark)</i>. I feel strange. I had expected elation - a heart-leaping, mind-boggling kind of joy at finishing my course. And yet I feel nothing. What I do feel in large measure is the feeling that one gets after a long period of mental stress, anxiety and lack of good sleep - <i>'exhausted', </i>yes just that.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /><br />
<div>
First of all a big thank you to those of you who had been following my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Frommissindiatomotherhood" target="_blank">Facebook page updates</a>, 'liking', responding, holding my hand, giving me support when I much needed it. Now sitting back when I read all those updates I wonder if any one of you might have thought <i>So what's the big deal? Who is forcing her to do it? </i>That's true, this course was completely my doing. I was the one who went and made the enquiries, submitted the application form, passed the interview and made the payment (well with a little help from the husband for this bit). Compare it to a boot camp where fitness-seekers go willingly and put their bodies happily through the intense workout, the initial excitement slowly changing to discomfort as the body starts slowing down with the rigour. That then slowly changes to an over-powering desire to shoot the trainer, and then when you think you can bear it no more, it ends. Suddenly, just like that. And with that comes the adrenaline, rushing in to tell you just one thing, to prove a point - <i>"I have done it!" </i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A little about the course. <a href="http://www.trinitycollege.com.cn/en/tesol_cert.html" target="_blank">Trinity CertTESOL</a> (Certificate in Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages) equips one with basic skills and knowledge needed to take up the role of a teacher teaching English as a foreign language. A good mix of classroom training and practical teaching this course filled with English grammar, phonology and assignments, was aimed at blasting our minds with new information at the speed of 2500000 characters a second! We had our first teaching lesson on the third day of the course, facing an eager and enthusiastic group of 15 adults, with the capability of understanding very basic English. That we were supposed to teach them, using all the approaches and stages taught, while being observed and assessed, on our 2-hour sleep pattern, was a matter of discussion (<i>trouble was there was no time to discuss!). </i><br />
<br />
After a disastrous first lesson where I left my students gaping with open mouths, I was told by my assessor that I was not understood by the class. <i>"Not understood?"</i> What language was I speaking I wondered? Till we had our own Unknown Language class with our teacher speaking only Swedish all the time - I realised where I had gone wrong. Next class onwards I was speaking slowly, not using idioms, checking if my instructions were understood and doing very good with my mimes. I had just about acquired a level of comfort and started to enjoy my lessons with this class, when we were asked to switch levels and were put up with the Intermediate group. Although here the students' English was much better, this level came with it's own set of limitations. Dealing with housewives and professionals in the age range of 25-35, this all-ladies group wanted to chat more with each other than listen to the teacher!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Assignment submissions, making lessons plans, doing learner interviews, preparing for the exam - kept us occupied from one deadline to the other. After a solid day in class packed to the brim, the only time we could cheat on and borrow was our sleep time. So working late into the night, our what's app group constantly beeping, work went on and on.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When I signed up for this course I thought I was prepared for the challenge, as I was warned about the intensity of the course by the TESOL coordinator and also by a dear friend who had been through the rigour. My mother-in-law who flew all the way from India to support my decision was much appreciated only after the course started. Day by day I slowly started delegating each and every of my household and motherly duties to her. Three days into the course I barely stepped into the kitchen or helped with the cleaning any more. I felt strange and guilty not being able to do my routine. But of all the things the one thing that I missed the most and felt most guilty about was that I couldn't be there for my children. I couldn't pick them up from school, take them for activities and even after I came back home everyday I couldn't do much as my mind was always filled with pending work. As the weeks progressed I had no time to feel sorry as one deadline merged into the other and I worked on a short 2-3 hour sleep schedule. I must say that the strong support of my family - my mum-in-law, my husband and my children, were the only reason I could pull through. That and the support of my team - the close bond that we had formed - was the reason for my success. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So I am a qualified teacher today teaching English to speakers of other languages. An internationally recognised course it is in high demand in most countries specially in Asia where everyone wants to learn English. Local schools, tutorials, English language learning centres or one-on-one tuitions - there are lots of openings floating around. However I am still very clear about my priorities - happiness first. I need to work things around my children. The rest will fall into place eventually. </div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8508318264454312850.post-43654797847158469812014-05-24T09:15:00.002+08:002014-05-24T09:15:37.461+08:00Happy Birthday to my blog<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div>
Happy Birthday blog as you turn 2</div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSktFTKVycF1yDbHyrIeZMOx1Z-5MfEhBOvs544_Y5dEvzYPEsrvgvYii1iEa5NkjESn1iSEIbH25dSd7g7qI2H7Ad_3HVG6wsobUBw5EVB-wjtMwqq1Cr3EWGt-0jZqV8I_L_5KKEcPyK/s1600/birthday-candle-2-thumb63639961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSktFTKVycF1yDbHyrIeZMOx1Z-5MfEhBOvs544_Y5dEvzYPEsrvgvYii1iEa5NkjESn1iSEIbH25dSd7g7qI2H7Ad_3HVG6wsobUBw5EVB-wjtMwqq1Cr3EWGt-0jZqV8I_L_5KKEcPyK/s1600/birthday-candle-2-thumb63639961.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a>I know I am late in wishing you,</div>
<div>
I have had no time to eat or think</div>
<div>
<i>From Miss to Motherhood</i> is suffer-ing. </div>
<div>
<br />
No more coffee mornings or birthdays to plan</div>
<div>
My life is topsy-turvy</div>
<div>
<a href="http://www.englishforasia.com/en/trinity/" target="_blank">Trinity CertTESOL</a> has tied up my hands.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Can't believe it's been 2 whole years since I gave birth to you</div>
<div>
Some rambling here, a picture there</div>
<div>
Turned into a poem or two!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have missed you all these 4 long weeks</div>
<div>
<a href="http://frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/2014/05/only-mother.html" target="_blank">Only a Mother</a> was all I could squeeze,</div>
<div>
Just one more week to go and then</div>
<div>
In your arms I will find my peace. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020729680264979795noreply@blogger.com0