One day the little enchantress will know the power of the craft she is so naturally potent in!

I take out the flash cards hoping we will go further in recognizing the opposites. Secretly also hoping it will help her memorize the shape and texture of all words we read and see. But she? She gives me this

And I say.. Dia look this is a..?

Dia: Giraffe mama

Me: yea and see they are two this one is (pointing at the taller one)

Dia: This is maamaa giraffe

Me: right.. this is Mama so she is tall. And the baby giraffe is?

Dia: Smallerrrrrrr

Me: yea and also he is short right

Dia: right he is short

Dia: and baby giraffe loves to run... and every time mama says slow down baby giraffe you are going too ahead of me you will get lost.

Me: Ahan.. (wondering where is this going... please dont go all Freud on me there are more stories coming)

Dia: But the baby giraffe runs faster and faster and mama comes behind slowly she is tired :(

Me: wow thats such a nice story isn't it.
and she says no this is not a nice story because the giraffe runs and doesn't listen to mommy. and I am thinking ... "is that morality" or is it just her way of telling me that she recognizes all those times I tell her to slow down that running far away she is testing her boundaries...
she doesnt give me much time to think and draws another pair

Dia: Look mamma a finished apple

 Me: yea and look at this one this one is?

Dia: whole

Me: yes and its also an apple that someone may have just started to eat right? so start and finish

Dia: yea start

Me: (wondering if i will get lucky with another story i ask) Dia so do we have a story of apple?

Dia: yeaaaa

Dia: One day Adiyah was hungry (am absolutely marveling at her start). And she went to the dressing table to look for noodles (why dressing table? why not kitchen? noodles because that what she was eating when we were doing this activity)

Dia (cont): but there were no noodles on the table instead (she used the word "balkay" i was so proud lol) there was an apple.

So dia ate the apple until it was half done and here is the rest of the apple (while pointing at the finished apple)

Me: Oh wow now this was a nice story wasnt it?

Dia: yea mamma you liked this story?

Me: yes i love you story

This time i pick another pair and say, "Look dia, whats up here"

Dia: Oooh look at this ship one is Nazdeek and another one is sooo far

Me: right and nazdeek in english is? 9and she gives me a quizzical look... its almost funny how she can still not tell which words are English and which ones are Urdu.. but am kinda glad for this blessing)

Me: its also near

Dia: Oh yea near and far, and mamma you know

(and I could see another story coming in....)

Dia: when the ship for near they shouted common Adiyah hurry up lets get on the ship but i could not reach to the ship on time

Me: and then?

Dia: then when I reached close to the river the ship was far far away and I said "wait i want to go also"

Me: oh o, then what happen

Dia: (she makes her voice dramatic) and then mamma i jumped in the water and swam swam swam until i reached the ship. Then i climbed up the ship but you know what

Me: what

Dia: the ship was made of wood and when I jumped on it I hurt my knee

Me: oh o, did it hurt

Dia: yes but I am ok now, I am so brave

Me: That you are my love!!!

This was the next pair

now you guess what the story went like.... a hint... it had a dream sequence lol....





  

Noha

Very little memories you retain as parents when you are growing up with a child but since yesterday it seems I can’t help getting into cycles of maintaining books of all that I had experienced as a mom in past 3 years. You know the most vivid memory I have is of the wrist pain I constantly complained of when she was about a few months till she was old enough to crawl and all. It hurt, it hurt enough to dig a space in my forgetful long-term memory I can still feel the pain and I look at her and the pain gets justified somehow despite being strong enough to remain in my bodies memory. We’ve been listening to titanic from past few days and just last night while we were busy mourning trying very hard to not pass on our misery to her we heard her sing along “once more you open the door” all tuned up all the right words and just then we had an unsaid eye-contact conversation saying so many things to each other “wow, is she really singing all of this” (while she is still matching tunes in the background, she doesn’t know the words anymore she’s just humming), “don’t say anything she will be distracted and become conscious” “God Dammit shes singing titanic!” and then another wave of black suddenly overtook it all ….

I am not reaching out to anyone today I am too stricken to think to talk to complain to show anger most of all I can’t find enough strength to be even angry I am just in that zone where I start grappling with what I saw on tv for seconds coz somehow I can tolerate it for more than that making all these sounds as if the anchor is crying shit man! I am just sitting here and my heart freezes every 10 minutes with one and only one thought “she goes to school too you know” it just stops functioning, my brain gets blank I don’t feel anymore I remain in it not being able think about anything while involuntarily rubbing where my wrist use to hurt. And then I get a grip wipe of my tears stand up and try to do something productive only to feel the same shiver after a bit of time.

I can’t reach out to anybody, I cant tell anyone that I feel their pain because you see I am a mom and I just don’t have the capacity to imagine anything like this how the hell do I know what you are going through where mere imagination glimpse of what it may look like has been shattering me since I heard the news. I beg for forgiveness for not being able to reach out but I am sorry I cant! You see I cant even dare to put her name here! I cant even dare to write what her relationship with me is I cant even jinx it there so I wont empathize and know I will have stop judging all who are using whatever means they have to reach out, to express , to condemn, to show the other side, to remind us of the children of thar, or of those who get killed every day on streets of Karachi, or the boy who was killed in Faisalabad, you see I agree that we go through tragedies every day and we are used to counting how many dead now but I am sorry I cant be that parson right now coz you see she goes to school too and this mantra that I am begging my head to stop repeating is not letting me compare this to anything its made me dysfunctional, I cant be resilient , or dheet or dead or numb right now coz all I want is to shut the world curl up and remain motionless.      

Of maids, my role and child labor

The other day I took Adiyah, my daughter to sindbad the local family entertainment center. for my North Americans its chuck e cheese of karachi.  Now adiyah is really fond of the indoor playground there and this one is not really made for 2.5 year old its for the big kids u see with tall slides, multiple floor climbing and all.  It's all soft play but being me I feel I can't let her do it all by herself until she is at least five.  So I paid for two people and joined her in the play. Now am not much of a play type but I love to watch her go from one part of the gym to another and encourage her to take the scary ones too. So after a lot of running around in hunchback at most spots I was kinda glad when she settled for the ball pit.  Now while I would relax when she was the only child there I was often on guard as older and more, let me put it gently,  enthusiastic ones would jump into the pool and kick in as if their life depended on it. They quite resembled the frantically paddling non swimmers in deep water too. Anyway so while Adiyah is doing her thing in the ball pool and me doing mine a little girl not much older than dia (she'd Max be 3.5 ) jumped in the pool followed by not so well kept 11-12 year old who was probably accompanying her. Now this little girl looked at me strange while entering so when she decided to get out of the pool I gave her a small smile.  She couldn't resist asking then and blurted out "are you her mommy? " while looking in dia's direction. Her milky while complexion complete with chubby cheeks, the pretty pullover she was wearing above all her almond eyes gave her a very "its hard not to like me" aura but what got me was the utter confusion in those adorable big eyes as she asked the question.  When I nodded affirmative the confusion rose further and this time she stutters slightly not in hesitation or discomfort but more out of "i don't understand you" factor and she asked "but where is your maid?" Out of her rush to reach the other side of the playground she didn't stay back to further inquire but I could see her leaving with a contemplating look on her face with my reply of "no I don't have one."

She left and I am sure she must have forgotten all about our little chat by the time she had left the playground but she remained in my thoughts with her innocent question. A question I kept thinking I must answer with more than "no I don't have a maid". While she may be too young to understand what I say now I hope one day she would understand my replies

Answer to the little girl I don't know the name of

"dear little sweet as Angel looking girl,  you asked me if I don't have a maid after you saw me playing or keeping watch for my daughter at a play gym you perhaps often come accompanied by your mommy's little maid. While I replied no I felt a little inadequate and I feel there is a need to if not justify then perhaps explain my answer. 

No I don't have a maid but while it has a bit to do with me not being able to justify the cost and financial strain it would yield. I think I don't have one for many other reasons. 

I don't have a maid because I don't think I can see myself employing an 11 year old to work for me. It's just not right and I hope when u grow up you would know why not. 
But even if for one second I did have an 11 year old maid, oh for heavens you know what no I won't have a little girl working for me for arguments sake either. Lets assume that even if I had an 11 year old niece or nephew who I could have in that play gym with my daughter I would still find it very difficult to let him take care of my daughter

First because even I In my 30s find it difficult to always be watchful and protective while still allowing her to explore undisrupted how can I trust some one two decade younger to do this job well? 

Besides shouldn't an 11 year old be enjoying the playground as much as you?  Rather look after you in such tempting place isn't it just outright mean to expect a child to babysit another in such environment?

But little one let me break a secret worth more than everything else written here even if I could with all my requirements find another to babysit my daughter there I think I would choose to still be there with her for I am there not out of obligation but of love. 
Did I tell you this was the first time I saw her climbing a floors worth of stairs all by her self and work her way down such big slide?  She did it all by her self after a couple of times of me being there to climb with her. Did I tell you that while I fidgeted with worry my heart expanded to double with joy when she accomplished this? I think I skiped the moment she ran through I tunnel expecting me to do it after her and when I got stuck with my big mommy body in that tunnel she held out her hand saying "mamma aap ko help chahiye (mama you need help)" I swelled with pride when she jumped in that ball pool and started to through balls everywhere after watching a couple of kids doing that and while I may sit here missing out on all the shopping I could have done trust me little girl I am not missing out on anything I value anywhere close to all that development,  laughter,  thrill that I see my own little girl under going. I want my girl to share these moments with me little one for I am selfish and in my selfishness I hope these precious little monents will help us through times ahead when she is cool and i am too old and too old fashioned and we may not have lots common to bond over