Some Dates More Than Others

10 Sep

Apologies for being AWOL! I’ve been cheating on this blog with other social media and should really enter rehab. Or maybe just post oftener. Which would you prefer? I hope you enjoy reading this straight-from-my-bleeding-heart piece. And come back after you’ve wiped off all the mushy goop! I’ve got more posts lined up as penance.

In the meantime, I’d love to hear from you. What you’ve been up to, the most annoying thing about last week, your biggest accomplishment since I last posted, to tell me that there’s a universe beyond Baby Pooped Today!!!….or simply to say hi? πŸ™‚

~

As teenagers, we would go shopping and she’d rein me in. “No, you cannot buy all seven tee shirts. Choose two.” And I’d grumble that she was my mother all over again.
When I was between degrees and unemployed, I packed up my life in far too many boxes and landed up to share her little room with an eccentric heater in Philadelphia. Freezing Philly winters were no match for this girl’s warmth.
When the Boy and I decided to get married and all hell broke loose, she gave me the confidence that I was doing the right thing. She spent the night before my wedding holding my hand and the morning of shedding quiet tears as I was dressed and made up.
Her hand was on my shoulder as I signed on the dotted line that would legally permit me to torture the man forever.
Her baby is my first baby. Moving away from him was physically painful. Forever a cheerleader for little girls, he taught me how to be mad about baby boys, setting the stage for the full blown Raja Beta Syndrome I now live with.
I informed her I was pregnant using an inside joke we had laughed about since college.

RRV[Credit: Raja Ravi Varma, Lady Holding a Fruit]

I named my son in her honor.
Considerate even as a zygote, she arrived on the planet 10 months ahead of me to vet the place for suitability. “It’s fine,” she yelled, giving me two baby thumbs up, “head on down!”
This girl I met a month shy of 16, I don’t know how I would have lived these past 21 years without her. But thankfully, I don’t have to know. Because we’re going to grow old and crotchety and annoy the eyeroll out of each other across the continents, an Indian in America and an American in India, for that’s how we roll, her and I.
Happy birthday, my J.
I thank the powers that be for September 10th, 1977.

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5 Responses to “Some Dates More Than Others”

  1. handwrittenonly September 10, 2015 at 9:06 pm #

    Yes there is a world beyond “Baby pooped today”…yay!! But for now, enjoy small poopy victories of adorable baby. Enter teen years and you will wish for these again…hah hah!
    Your friend sounds like a neat person…zygote? Interesting choice of word. I looked up the meaning right away and filed it away in my storehouse of new words. Great seeing you again with sweet hubby and adowable baby! The temptations in the box have been passed on to us, but hubby and I consuming just a quarter of each. Take care and good to see you again on the page.

  2. Aunty G. September 10, 2015 at 9:55 pm #

    Ooo la la! She’s come, she’s come
    Asks for OUR news β€” lots or some
    Your absence was β€œAnnoying”
    Totally excused: baby-cloying
    And the above post rounded my own sum!
    ———————————————————————–
    Happy Birthday, OJ’s Very Best Friend
    May your friendship flourish till the end
    Thank you for being
    Part of her being
    May God every blessing upon you extend!

  3. Revathy September 12, 2015 at 2:10 am #

    So happy to hear from you. πŸ˜€

  4. Orange Jammies September 14, 2015 at 7:27 pm #

    handwrittenonly: It was lovely to see you and the family too! I’m not thinking about the teen years, there is a good chance I may drop dead of sleep deprivation before that. πŸ˜†

    Aunty G: Greedy greedy, Aunty G
    Wants more and more and more of me
    You get to read me every day
    I always have something to say
    Thank heavens social media is free! πŸ˜‰

    Revathy: Aww, hugs. You’ll hear from me more regularly now, I’m hoping. πŸ™‚

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