Blogging for life

After a very very long time, I feel the urge to blog today. Not because I have news to share or need a channel to vent. But to re-establish what was once so dear to me.

Blogging was an integral part of my life. A mechanism to channel my thoughts. A mode to meet new friends, likeminded or otherwise. And a passion that gave words (sometimes paragraphs) to random musings. And with my increasing absence, it remains a journey half complete.

This I refuse to accept.

What started as an online record of my public-personal life, which also was one way of fitting in, to an ever growing spectra of social networking. Slowly, it became more than that. It was my own space on the World Wide Web. My own little identity. Blogging was beginning to be fun. Slowly the number of bloggers who I interacted with increased. At one point, every post had nearly a 100 comments. The tags, challenges, awards – Blog world was buzzing. The race to be the first comment on a post was what mattered. Who cared about another rat-race called life. For me, blogging had changed. It was now about meeting new people. Making new friends. But how this impacted my blog, I only realized later. The desire to get more visitors to my blog was now the key. The unsaid rule was ‘you comment on my post, I comment on yours’. The game had changed.

I was no longer blogging for myself. I connected this blog to my Facebook account and every post was flashed there. Who was I blogging for? Time to separate both worlds. Blogging and Facebook have to live two independent lives.

And maybe that’s why, I was lost in my journey. And as a result, I lost my passion to blog. Lost some good friends along the way. Some are just an obscure memory. Others a comment on some old post. And a select few on my friend list of Facebook.

Time was my best excuse. It still is. I got busy. Work got the better of me. Life was moving on. Why wouldn’t it? Isn’t that what life does. It moves on. And so did my life.

I was only a 26 year old bloke who had just relocated to Dubai and about to get married, when I started this blog. Today, I am 33, and father to 2 lovely kids. It took 7 years to get here. Where did all that time go? Seven years! Oh well, let me leave the nostalgia for another post.

Though it was this day, 7 years ago, that it all started. So here’s what I am gonna do. This space, this little logically obscure collection of my life, will not bite dust anymore. I vow to get back. Not for any one but for me.

Time to catch up and regain some lost ground. This time for real.

A father-daughter bond to cherish

It has been more than 6 months since my last post, which some of you may recall, was a desperate plea for help. Before proceeding any further, I would like to wholeheartedly thank each and every one of you for coming forward to help us. Those few weeks were the worst days of my life. Having an accident like that at home and losing a life in such a tragic way, even the mere thought of it gives me goosebumps. At a point, nothing seemed enough to justify why it happened. But in the end, life as it is has a way to move on. Scars heal.

And in the midst of all this, what really helped retain sanity and pulled me through, was my beautiful little angel. I am a father. Been one for the last 4 years. But I cannot even begin to describe being one to my little princess.

The adorable look that she gives when I walk into the room, the way she chuckles and throws out her arms, her chubby smile, her eyes and the peace I find when I look into them and the absolute heaven-like feeling when I hold her face next to mine.

I always thought I had gone through it all with Ibrahim. And being my first born, the experience I had with him could not be taken over. But all I have to do is hold Zainab close to me, whispering into her ears, rub her cheeks against mine, and I know this moment is going to be etched in my memory forever. Just me and my daughter. Not sure if a wise man said this before, but I am saying it, you’re not even close to being a complete man till you father a daughter.

Have often wondered what is so special between a father-daughter relationship? I know my little sister totally adores and worships my dad. But I do too. My dad is my hero. So what is it about her relationship that differs from mine? She always said its a father-daughter thing. You will not understand. Till a few weeks back, I did not. Just took her word for it. But I think I am beginning to get the drift now. Don’t think I’m going to question my dad anymore for his absolutely irrevocable and unconditional preference over his sons love to my sister. That’s the kind of father-daughter bond I’d like to have with Zainab. Unconditional. Irrevocable. Absolute.

Some day, Ibrahim will be old enough to read this. Old enough to understand? I am not sure. It took me all of 31 years. Hopefully, he’s smarter than his dad. But son, if you can’t, then don’t fret it. Deal with it like I did. And if you need an ego-massage, just click on the ‘Ibrahim’ tag of this very same blog.

I also have renewed respect for all daddies out there with little princesses ruling their lives. Love them. Cherish them. Protect them. You are blessed. In every way a man can be.

Need your help URGENTLY

What started as a mundane Sunday morning could so quickly change into a scene from hell. And change our lives forever.

We all went to bed on Saturday night like any other night. I was sleeping with Ibrahim upstairs while my wife was with my 12-day old newborn baby, Zainab, in the room downstairs. Post c-section, she has restrictions on climbing stairs for a few weeks. My other brothers with their families were in their respective rooms.

At around 6.20 am, I was jolted out of my sleep with a loud explosion. Not like anything I’d heard in real life ever. The sound was deafening like the one you see in a war movie. Like something blew up into bits.

And within seconds, there were screams. I didn’t know if it was one person or many people screaming. I quickly jumped out of bed and looked out the window thinking…..actually thinking nothing! Still dazed I really did not know what to think. Just then people from across the street started shouting and pointing towards our house in the general direction of my kitchen.

That’s when I realized the explosion was in my house and the screams where from someone from my house!

My first thought was my wife and daughter. I ran downstairs towards their room and saw my wife running towards the main door with a blanket in her hand. She was OK and so was Zainab. I ran after her and saw a sight like never before. Standing on the main door was my maid, burning in flames from head to toe. She was on fire. We put a blanket around her and defused the flames. The less I describe about how she looked, the better. My mom and wife were both holding her and made her sit on a chair. Flames were put off by then. But just touching to console her burnt my mom’s fingers.

I called 999.

Next I ran towards the blast scene. My house has two entrances. The main door in the front and there is one more door on the side, through the pantry. The kitchen is located outside the house. To go there, we need to step out through the pantry door and take a few steps. The moment I looked out the pantry door, I was shell-shocked. Smoke everywhere. Glass scattered. Kitchen was on fire. Everything was burning.  My brothers were already there. One of them disconnected the gas cylinder and threw it away from the kitchen. Due to the fire, the electricity to the whole house was tripped. We could not get the water motor going. Meaning there was no water in the tap or pipe. Thankfully, there were a few 20 liters drinking water bottles. We quickly opened them and started spraying water everywhere.

Within minutes the fire brigade arrived and took over the scene.

Ambulance came a few minutes later. They started working on my maid. Gave her emergency first aid and quickly took her away.

We waited till the police completed the formalities. Forensics arrived to the scene an hour later to determine the cause of fire. After scrambling through the debris, they finally managed to find the cause. There was a leak in the gas pipe. Probably started sometime the night before. The door, window and exhaust fan was closed overnight. So the kitchen had become a literal gas chamber. As soon as she went in and ‘probably’ turned on the stove, it blew up. The intensity of the blast was so severe that 2-3 cm glass pieces from the window pierced into the concrete walls of my house. Despite our best attempts, those pieces are not coming out.

My brother went to the hospital while me and my other brother went to the police station to give our statements and finish the police report.

At the hospital, the doctor’s diagnosis was even scarier – “81% 2^nd and 3^rd degree burns. Patient is very critical. We have sedated her and put her on life support”. They are giving medication to keep her blood pressure up and heart pumping. She is in the ICU Burn Ward and doctors have given a very low probability of survival. Several surgeries need to be done, first one today. This is to release blood flow in her arms and abdomen. Pressure buildup has resulted in blockages in different parts of her body. Her entire body is bandaged except her face which is also completely burnt but they’ve not bandaged it.

Her name is Azeb Abebe. She is a 25 yr old Ethiopian lady with a 4 yr old son back in Ethiopia. Her mother is partially disabled with 1 healthy leg and her father is terminally ill. She has been working with my family for the last 9 months. We recruited her through a local manpower agency. Her paperwork is fine and she was working with us legally. We were so impressed with her work that within 3 months of working with us, we gave her a raise. She had adapted to an Indian household very well and was now cooking food better than us. Her room is fully furnished with all amenities. And we have taken very good care of her. She is a very warm hearted, modest and honest person. In 9 months of employment, we never had to question her about missing things. She was well behaved and very nice with our kids. There is a bible in Ethiopian language at her bedside.

And thus it hurts more to see a good woman so close to the doors of death. As her sponsor and employer, we will do whatever it takes to give her all medication attention. Her family has been informed about the mishap. We have also informed the Ethiopian Consulate about the accident.

Right now, our biggest challenge is the rising medical bills. In 4 days, the current outstanding bill at Rashid Hospital is Dh 42,150 (USD 11,472). She is in ward 23, bed 6A. The estimated daily expense is around Dh 10,000 (USD 2,721) per day and expected to increase when the surgeries start. Hoping that she survives, and we pray that she does, she needs to spend up to 3 months at the hospital. We are looking at close to Dh 900,000 (USD 245,000) in medical expenses only.

Honestly, these expenses are beyond my modest monthly paycheck and I would urge and sincerely request you to please come forward with any donation possible to cater for her medical treatment.

Please contact me on donate4azeb@gmail.com for more information (bank account, hospital reports, photographs etc). You can also visit http://www.facebook.com/Donate4Azeb.

Any assistance will be sincerely appreciated.

With hope and prayers,

Masood Salem

21/July/2012 – Edited to add:

We have already started digging into our assets to cover the initial hospital bills.  This will cover just a fraction of the cost but it all adds up. So far, we have

1. Liquidated term deposits in Noor Bank.

2. Liquidated our investment in personal gold.

3. Put up my car for sale. Had bought it 6 months back.

4. Put up property in Hyderabad (India) for sale.

I urge you to please come forward for any assistance. Thanks in advance.

24/July/2012 – Edited to add:

Donations can be made using any of the following options:

1. Directly transfer to a bank account in UAE

HSBC Account # : 001412261001
IBAN # : AE870200000001412261001
Account Name : Masood Salem
Branch: HSBC, Airport Road, Abu Dhabi (UAE)

2. Directly transfer to a bank account in India:

HDFC Account # : 00091140042150
Account Name: Masood Salem
Branch: HDFC, Kasturba Rd, Bangalore (India)

3. Pay through PayPal using the following link (managed by my brother)

https://fundrazr.com/campaigns/4LBl9?psid=21f809365560482e84359824a13ee0f5&ref=nf

4. Transfer through Western Union to “Masood Salem” and send the MTCN code to me through email.

Looking forward to active contributions towards this cause.

Nursery to KG1 and 7 years on the job

Yesterday I completed 7 years with Oracle. Often I wonder if I am limiting my career sticking to one organization for all of my early working years. Most of my mates from B-school have made atleast 2-3 moves, if not more. Some have changed 5 companies in the last 7 years. And here I am, still with the one I started with.

Well, I am getting what I want from here (career growth, learning, money etc) so haven’t seen any reason to move. So for now, I start yet another year with Oracle and just like I’ve been loyal to you, Mr. Oracle, I know you will be good to me as well.

Moving on, Ibrahim has now completed 1 whole month in KG1. We’ve moved him out of the nursery into a bigger school. Apparently, in UAE, a child can start school from 3 years onwards. So being eligible, we decided to get him enrolled into a school and get on with it. He has settled in quite well. Cried for a couple of days and been fine since. His highlight of the day is the school bus ride. That is what gets him going. And too add, my elder bro’s son also goes to the same school. All these factors have helped him settle down quite well. He wakes up at 6am on weekends and starts throwing a tantrum to go to school. Every night, he goes to bed happily when we tell him he has school tomorrow so needs to sleep early. It’s been a blessing in disguise. For all the trauma we went through for a month in his nursery, his stint at the school so far has been extraordinary. Feedback from his class teacher is excellent. Apparently, he’s already become a teacher’s pet. Hugs the attendants, gives them flying kisses, gives them goodbye kisses when leaving for home, shares his lunch etc. He hasn’t jelled too much with his classmates. But he’s getting there. Every other day, he comes home with a new name, a new friend. We’ve seen remarkable development in him. More confident. Bolder. Smarter. Speaking english words and small sentences. All in all, it has been satisfactory month.

Last week, I posted latest pics of Ibrahim on FB. We had gone to take passport size pics of him and he ended up giving some amazing poses. So much so that we made portraits of them and for a couple of pics, I blew them up into 12×14 portraits. All still on FB if you guys wanna take a look.

Eventful couple of months coming up. I hope I will be disciplined enough to update my blog regularly. Otherwise, it will all be on Facebook! Cheers.

Ibrahim’s first week at the nursery

Last week was one of our most grueling and challenging weeks as a parent. We enrolled Ibrahim into his first nursery.

It was long overdue. He turned 3 in Jan. We wanted him to attend a few months before he officially joins kindergarten. Just so that gets used to the idea of staying away from home and his parents for a few hours. Maybe gel around with kids. Just to get him into the grove.

Not easy. The first day, we just took him in, showed him around, played with him, sat with him in the classroom, introduced him to the kids, teachers, attendants. He took it quite well. And we were optimistic. So on day 2, we got to the nursery, went with him inside to his classroom. And while he got busy with the activities, we then left. All was well for about 15 seconds. The moment he looked up and did not find us, that was it. He started yelling, crying, running around the classroom, totally panicked and scared. It was madness. Every room in the nursery is fitted with CCTV  cameras. So we were in the waiting room watching him on TV. And could hear his screams. How do you react in such situations as a parent? Just because it was for his good that we managed to stay put and not rush in there and take him in our arms.

This went on for an hour. The supervisor had suggested we leave him alone for an hour on the first day. When we went into his classroom, he saw us and started crying more. It was his cry of relief. Came running into our arms and kept crying. We left from there, took him to a mall (he loves the parking areas, specially the multistory ones where the car goes up and down the ramp). After which we gave him some of his favorite stuff to eat. All in all, he was fine by the time we reached home. The only real tangible proof was his voice, which was totally hoarse due to all the shouting. To the extent that he was not able utter anything.

The following day, he was due to stay for 2 hours. We kept talking to him about how it was such a good place for him to play, make friends, color, paint, play music etc. When we finally reached the nursery, he refused to go in. After a little persuasion, he finally let go. Went into the arms of his favorite attendant, Ms. Nes, and she took him into the classroom.

Then something so unexpected happened that I will never forget it ever. He forced Nes madam to come out again where we were still standing. He looked at us and started crying, forcing her to bring him to us. When he came a little close, I told him, ‘Ibrahim, mama and baba are going to office. You have to go inside now. You should not cry and come out. We cannot stay here na. We will come as soon as Nes madam will call us’. And I started to move back. He then said, ‘Ibamin baba ko kiss karna hai please’ (Ibrahim wants to kiss baba please!). I couldn’t muster a word. I walked quickly to him. He was still in Nes madam’s arms. He kissed me on the cheek. I asked him, ‘Let’s hug?”. He said yes. Gave him a tight hug. And he said bye. And asked Nes madam to take him inside!

I was speechless. Here I was thinking he is throwing a tantrum, refusing to go to his classroom and wants to come to us. And was moving away while he was insisting on coming close. His whole intention was just to give his baba a goodbye kiss. And I was telling him to go inside and don’t cry and what not!!! This one incident reminded me how innocent a child is and how simple his needs can be. Why it really shook me was because Ibrahim is not one to kiss and hug n all. His way of showing affection is different. More aggressive. He rarely chooses to kiss someone. Even his parents. Infact, as far as I can remember, this is the first time he has given me a kiss without asking for it in over a year. I still wonder what was going on in his mind that time. Was he insecure? Was he afraid that we were leaving him there for good? Or did he just feel like giving us kiss because he was going away from us? I may never know. But that one kiss has changed me as a parent. Never again I am going to take him for granted. Nor ignore him. Yes, I will do what needs to be done for the sake of his parenting. But with renowned vigor and strength. He is my son and I am a proud father.

He has stopped yelling now. But hasn’t stopped crying. But not crying with tears. He just making sounds. Today was more challenging coz it was the first day after the weekend. He is settling in. And I hope by end of this week, he will be fully acclimatised. When I asked him today if he wants to come back again tomorrow, he said yes. And was pretty cool about it. Last week when was asked the same question, he would cry and run around as if the house was on fire. So yeah, some improvement there.

I wish this phase of his life, his first foray into the real world, is full of excitement and learning. I wish the Almighty always watches over him and give him all the success, health and love he deserves, for now and the hereafter. Ameen.

 

The week that defined my 2011

Most of the best things of last year actually happened in the last week of 2011. To the extent that it almost qualifies as the best week of my life. Baring a few like Ibrahim’s birth, my wedding, my first job selection, I don’t think any other week in my life has been so eventful and fulfilling.

It started with my biggest ever paycheck. Modestly speaking, I did a fair amount of business over the last few months. And had held back my commission for a few months to pick it up in one go. So yes, that way, I was a rich man last week. But that was till I bought my car! Picked up a Lexus ES350, pearl white, V6, 3.5L, 272 hp @ 6200 rpm, leather seats, keyless entry, bluetooth bla bla bla. The only thing not there is a navigation system and rear camera. Everything else loaded.

So yes, I am now a proud owner of a Lexus. And while I was finalizing the purchase and car transfer, I got an email from my boss with the official announcement on my long-awaited promotion! Well, not too long actually. It was under discussion only since the last 4 months and she made it happen. I now have 6 guys reporting into me. Not bad at all.

A good week. No, a great week. And I thought that was the end of it. But no. Out of sheer luck, I managed to get tickets (FINALLY) to see the great ROGER FEDERER in action LIVE. And not just some game but the semi-finals of the Mubadala World Tennis Championship in Abu Dhabi. He was playing against the world # 1 Novak Djokovic. Anyone who knows even a teeny veeny bit of me knows that I am a cult follower of Federer. He is my absolute hero. And to finally see him barely 15 mts from me, was my biggest dream come true. A big check on my bucket list. Ofcourse, it did not help my enthusiasm that he lost badly. But all was well when I managed to get his autograph of my cap!!!

My purpose in life is complete.

Well, not quite actually. I need to see him win a match. And then a championship. And then regain the world # 1 rankings!

Anyways, such is the nature of us humans. Never satisfied with what we get. Till a week back, all I could think of was when am I gonna buy a car, where is my promotion, when will I ever see Federer etc etc etc. And exactly 7 days later, here I am.

2011 for that reason has been a super year. Almost everything that I slogged for through the year, came out OK by year-end. Actually by the last week of the year.

So here’s wishing everyone a very happy and prosperous 2012. Never stop dreaming. Never stop believing. Have a fantastic year. Cheers.

 

How it all began

I’ve spent more than 2 years in Bangalore. And the best phase of my stay in Bangalore was during my courtship days. I got engaged to my now wife in Jan 2007. And relocated to Dubai in August. So I had about 7-8 months of ‘lovey-duvey’ days before I left.

Why the sudden recollection today? Well, before we took off for our honeymoon after the wedding, we had spent a day in Bangalore on transit. This was just to clear out some pending paperwork with my old employer and some bank formalities to be settled. Later that night, I took my wife around to my favorite restaurant for dinner and to Corner House for ice cream, obviously! It was well past mid night that we were on a way back to the hotel. Early next morning was our flight to Malaysia.

So our on way back to the hotel, we were passing by the locality where I had stayed for 2 years. And my wife insisted on seeing the area and the bungalow atleast. Ofcourse the flat was probably rented out to someone else. Anyways, we got to the house and just as we were about to leave, I noticed that the gate was not locked. So like ‘chors’, we entered through the gate tip-toed and went to the second floor to my flat. That was locked. Then we went to the terrace. And that is where I think I spent the best 10 mins of my married life. Now, don’t get your dirty minds working overtime!!!

Back in my courtship days, I used to spend hours talking on the phone with my then fiancee. And most of the time, I used to be at the terrace. I had a few specific places where I would sit and talk talk and talk some more. And I used to tell her about the lovely sunset, the views, the greenery, the amazing Bangalore weather and so on. But when I had relocated, I never thought I would ever get a chance to come there with my wife, to the exact place where I had spend a good part of 8 months talking to her during our courtship days. Infact since that day, I’ve not gone back to Bangalore. It’s been close to 4 years now.

But as fate would have had it, just when we were beginning our lives together, I managed to spend some precious moments with my newly wed wife and share the experience of how and where I was, when I first fell in love with her. I say ‘first’ because that was not the last time I fell in love with her.

Today I recall that day and my heart fills up. Those 10 minutes at the terrace at 2am in the night, strolling around hand in hand, cool February breeze, not a soul in sight, only the sound of leaves rustling with the wind and talking about how it all began, ranks right up there amongst the most memorable and fulfilling moments of my life!

Coffee or mockery?

Some times I wonder at the shallowness of people around me. I have a bunch of guys at work who are seen with a cup of Costa or Starbucks coffee each morning. You know the disposal paper glass.

 

Being a coffee lover (and I cannot help it. I was born on International Coffee Day), I look at them with pride. A fellow coffee-fanatic I think. A quick nod of approval when we cross-paths. Even if I don’t know the person. But we have something in common.

But I now realized how naive I was. It was all fake.

Because that Costa or Starbucks cup does not really contain coffee but MILK. They go over to the coffee shop, pick a glass for 1 buck, pour a glass of fresh milk into that and walk around all day with that cup in hand, pretending to be sipping coffee and enjoying it.

So the illusion is that he/she is a loyal coffee fan but in reality they are just trying to show off. Honestly, I really dont have a problem with that. But what worries me is why would someone wanna do such a thing? Go to such lengths just to prove a point or try to fit in? To flaunt a brand? Is it that important in today’s world to spend 1 buck for an empty cup and another buck for a bottle of milk and have you ‘coffee’ for 2 bucks instead of the actual price of 15 bucks or so?

Why do people need to resort to such tactics? I have no idea. Maybe they are just too insecure about themselves. I know it looks good, that cup of Costa or Starbucks in hand. But do people drink that coffee just because it looks good? I don’t think so. Any coffee lover will say that it is the coffee, the aroma, the taste that gets them hooked to it. But these guys are hooked to that paper glass!!!

 

Memorable Birthdays – Part 1

My woes about turning 30 are well documented. Not really freaked out as I thought I would be. But not floating on cloud 9 either. Mixed feelings per se. I want to begin my 30s with earnest, promise and hope. Still 2 days of 20s to go. So all is ‘still’ well.

But just because I have been thinking of it quite a bit, I also tried to recall some memorable celebrations I’ve had in the last 29 years. Honestly, the first one that comes to mind is my 10th birthday. Back in the days, we didn’t celebrate birthdays with too much pomp. Just went to school with a box of chocolates. Stood in front of the class while everyone sang ‘happy birthday to you’, distributed sweets and that’s it. Ofcourse, I kept aside some extra chocolates for my best friends. Anyways, on my 10th bday, dad mom decided to have a big bday bash. So about 20 of my classmates, neighbor friends etc were invited home, lots of decoration, lots of food and we had a super time. I still remember a lot about that day. And many gifts. One of my closest friends back then gave me a video cassette of ‘Twenty thousand leagues under the sea’. I still have it. But don’t have a VCR to play it! But the standout bday gift was the one given by my family. In a box as big as me, they filled it paper and god-knows-what and inside there some where was the gift. They bought me a wireless remote control car. 20 years back, that was a novelty. I also remember the price. I cost a fortune. I was so overwhelmed that I rarely played with it. Only opened the box, cleaned the car, replaced the batteries, drove it around for a minute and neatly put it back. Into the top closet where no one could reach it. We didn’t have rechargeable batteries also. So if I spent more than 15-20 min, the batteries would dry out. And buying new ones, obviously, cost a lot. But those were the days. I was on top of the world. Nothing could be any better.

The next memorable bday was my 17th one. The last with my school mates. Before we traveled all over the world for higher education. We had no clue what life had in store for us. And if we would ever meet again. So that year, everyone celebrated their 17th bday grandly. I hosted my party at a high-end restaurant, booked a banquet hall, buffet, music, dance floor…the works! It was awesome. Ofcourse no booze. And because we were older teens, we behaved. That was the most fun I’ve had ever. Even till date. We partied till late in the night. It was perfect.

Part 2 tomorrow. Cheers.

On parenting and balance

Blogging has taken such a back seat in my life these days. I really miss the hay days. When each post by a fellow blogger was a playground for us bloggers. The fight to be the first one to comment. The leg-pulling and all the madness that unfolded. That made blogging worthwhile. It was the blog-samaj rather than the blogging that I enjoyed more. I am sure a lot is still happening out there. Just that I am no more part of it. Not up to it anymore. Work has engulfed so much of my time that I no longer am able to blog regularly. And now I think I may never be able to do so. Or atleast till I have another baby! 😉

Regular followers and readers of this blog have always stated that my best posts were on my son Ibrahim and my experiences as a father. Ibrahim is two and a half years old now. And though I still enjoy and relish this wonderful feeling of being a parent, I have gotten used to it now. And with Ibrahim getting mischievous with each passing day, most of my time now goes in stopping him and telling him what’s right or wrong. He still is a darling. And my only regret with him is when I have to scold him about something. Poor guy hugs me and cries. Heartbreaking but necessary for a balanced upbringing. Sometimes I wonder if I am expecting too much out of him? He still is only 2 n a half yrs old. Cannot expect him not be naughty. Infact I would be worried if he did not break stuff or be noisy or make a mess. Where do we, as parents, draw the line between parenting and pampering? Yet to figure this one out. I think I am mostly laboring, rather unnecessarily, in the parenting space than the pampering space.

What effect does too many ‘NO’ have on a child? Does it curb his natural instincts? Would it stop him for doing something creative just because he may get ‘yet’ another NO from his dad or mom? We have always tried to give a healthy, balanced environment for him to grow. But it is the nuances of life that end up dominating our reactions. Sometimes we may react harshly just because we had a lousy day at work. That is where I expect to balance myself. He should receive only what he deserves. Good or bad. Not more. Not less. That is what I am going to strive for. Balance.

We have four other kids in the house. Even that makes a big difference. Mostly in a good way. Though sometimes we have to scold him for being over-enthusiastic with his siblings. Ibrahim has an aggressive way of expressing his emotions. He will hug you but tightly, he will kiss you but strongly. And then there is the sibling rivalry. Everyone wants that one toy. Nevermind if there are 10 other toys like that lying around. They still want that one which the other is holding. A lot of our time is spent in just monitoring and mostly stopping him from doing things coz it may result in hurting his siblings. Sometimes it worries me. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I know it is always healthy to have kids around kids. But like I mentioned earlier, it also means over monitoring and over caution!

I think all I need is more patience. Kids are kids. They are going to get on your nerves. Like it or not. With a little more patience, I may be able to balance my reactions, both good and bad. And maybe then I can claim that I am half-good as a father. He may start kindergarten (or nursery) this coming April so that automatically reduces our time with him. What I  really want is him to be ready. Not academically. Let the teachers handle that. But I want him to be ready psychologically. To be bold and strong. And not be scared of bullies. I want this because I know he has some weird fears and phobias. And always seeks confirmation on things before doing anything (Not when he is onto something naughty or mischievous. That he does without a hint of doubt).

Or maybe I don’t need to do anything at all. I may just be reading too much into this. I am not sure. That’s for sure.