In his music class today, Atul seemed unusually distracted. He kept turning around and looking at me. Then he lifted his t-shirt and was examining his belly. His eyes scanned the floor,as though searching for something. All these gestures while he was standing next to the teacher, his lips halfheartedly reciting the solfege. What's going on with this child today? Did I not remind him to use the potty before we left for class? or was that half an hour of t.v. time at home overstimulating? when did he wake up this morning? so ran a volley of questions at the back of my mind until my eyes rested on the back of his palm. Impressed with his practice sessions at home, the teacher had given him three star stickers - red, green and silver. But what did I see on his hand, a missing green star. Aha, that explained the unsettling behavior. Now tell me, losing a hard-earned reward would irk anyone, wouldn't it? A subtle partnership was forged as I joined Atul's quest to find the lost treasure. It didn't take long to spot the lone sticker lying underneath his chair. I retrieved it quickly and signaled to Atul. In response, he nodded excitedly with a glee in his face. Not a word exchanged, but volumes spoken!

Kindness reached out to me in the form of a stranger when I had a dire need for it. A stranger she may be, but her compassion filled my heart with well wishes for her and her family of six kids. She mentioned that her son will be joining the marine corps soon, a choice he has made and over which she has no control. She had no obligation to reveal that personal detail, yet she did. To make me feel better. To drive a point. The gesture touched me and made me feel lighter. In return, I wish her peace of mind, now and forever. God bless the kind soul.

Is this what they mean by - goodness begets goodness?

"Amma three days to go for Halloween", declared my son at 3:00 A.M. a couple of days back. He had picked the Wolverine costume the moment he laid his eyes on it. Since then the costume has been hanging in the closet, taunting him every time he opened it to pick a toy or dump his laundry. "Can I wear it now? please? just for one minute?" he would plead only to be reminded of the pact that we entered into when we purchased the costume - that it can be inaugurated only on the day of Halloween. It was not easy, but we stuck to it, well almost. The Halloween celebration started yesterday with the trick or treat event conducted by the town. At school, they had planned a number of activities around the Halloween theme this morning. Of course, tomorrow is the day of Halloween and there is more fun in store. It's unbelievable the excitement that the holiday generates. Kids in Atul's school have been discussing for months - who is going to wear what, which by the way went numerous iterations until last evening.

This year is Atul's fifth Halloween. The first year, he was Winnie the Pooh. It was more for us than for him. For the second one, he was a cute little tiger cub. He was hilarious, he would knock on people's doors, would want to play with kids in the house, and would hand over the treats back to them. The third Halloween, he was a Superman. He got into decorating pumpkins and such activities. Last year he was Buzz Lightyear, and we carved our first pumpkin at home. The tradition continued this year. Question of another six or seven years before he outgrows and Halloween will not be what it is now. Until then, here's to more candy looting, pumpkin carving and fancy costumes.

Have a good weekend.

It was an endearing sight to see the tiny tots nudging each other slightly to get an inch closer to the teacher, gathering around him like honey bees swarming around the honey comb. Then they sang in unison, do-do, so-so, la-la, so, the solfege for Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, as the teacher worked his magic on the piano. Made me want to be a teacher (no not a piano teacher, some teacher, any teacher) some day.

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A scene at Atul's key board class. The song called for a queen, and a few soldiers. A queen was selected based  on eeny, meeny, miny, moe rhyme. The boy and the girl soldiers pretended to play the trumpet, march to their places, followed by the boy soldiers bowing and the girl soldiers doing the courtesy. Then, it was the queen's turn to make a grand entrance and go towards her throne. Then the boy soldiers and the girl soldiers along with their mommy/daddy waved at the queen. It was an endearing sight to see the little girl's, that is the queen's, face turn different shades of pink, shy and blushing, from all the attention lavished on her. The innocence on her face was priceless.

Foggy and cloudy, with brilliant colors splashed all over the town and beyond, it was a picture perfect fall day. A leaf peeper's paradise. Lucky for my brother and sil who were dutifully following the vagaries of the Boston weather all week in anticipation of their weekend visit to Boston. So off we went, meandering our way in directions that the colors took us. To ponds and lakes, back roads and office parks, just random places. To capture and freeze the fall colors in our mind's eye as well as our camera lenses. To be surrounded by such breathtaking beauty is a blessing. It would be a crime if we didn't take advantage of it, wouldn't it? So clickety clack, we clicked our way all through the weekend.

Fun, fun and fun. Yeah, as long as it lasted. Not any more though, as we will be laboring in our backyard this weekend raking this short-lived beauty. Ah, well, a small price to pay, what do you say?

My association with her was through my brother. She and he went to the same class for the first five years but our paths seldom crossed each other until 11th std. That was when we ended up in the same class as we opted to pursue commerce, economics and accountancy for higher education. I remember sitting next to her on the first day of class. Or am I making this up in my head, I am not sure and that minutia doesn't seem to matter after all these years. We hung out with each other. A lot. At intervals, during lunch hour, outside school, at the temple, in her home, at my place, during tuition classes. Chitchatting about school, friends, family, this, and that. There was never a shortage of topics. I was fond of the BHEL quarters that she lived in, enjoyed some of aunty's delicacies, deemed it a privilege being in the company of uncle and took inspiration from her brother.

After those much cherished couple of years, it was time to bid adieu as my dad's job took us to different places. We kept in touch. Wrote to each other every week, some times every two or three weeks. I looked forward to sleep overs at her place whenever I visited Trichy and she came to spend a couple of days with me in Coimbatore. A few years rolled by in this manner. Then she got married, four days after I got engaged. Want to know the best part? both of us were heading to the same destination post marriage - Boston. Who would have thought and how special is that! Her being here made a big difference to my transition. You see there were a plethora of things to discuss  - husband, inlaws, America, India, home sickness, setting up new home, groceries, cooking, cleaning, school days, deals, vacations. And who better to discuss it with than a good old friend.

After all these years, I think of her as family. Someone who knows my history and someone with whom I have grown up. Someone who will remind me of the person I was and the person I aspire to be. Over the past years, I have seen her undergo a number of life changing events. I have seen her in labor, hours before she gave birth to her son. I have seen her grieve the loss of a loved one two months later. I have seen the warmth she exudes on her mom, the pillar of support she is to her family and a shoulder that I tend to lean on so often. Resilience is the word that comes to mind when I think of her. The courage to accept, the will to fight, and her immense faith are some of the things that have made my  life richer. Not to mention her dear husband and darling son whom my  family is fond of.

As she turns a new chapter in her life tomorrow, here's wishing her the happiest of thoughts, the pinkest of health, and the very best in all her endeavors. Wishing her with all that she is wishing for, now and always. Happy B'day dear friend. Some things are just meant to be, and I am grateful our friendship is one such thing.

The last time around, it was a fulfilling performance. I made mistakes here and there, but they didn't seem like a big deal in the grand scheme of things. A sense of gratification from knowing that I gave it my best shot filled me that evening and for weeks later.

Not today though. I thought I did the right things. After returning from rehearsal last evening, I ironed the costume I had borrowed for the performance, made sure all the accessories were in order, and that the salangai was packed. Searching for some inspiration, I keyed in "Kalakshetra" in YouTube and soaked myself in the five-part series on the dance school and felt pumped up after seeing the young and dedicated artistes practice and perform. Before hitting the sack earlier than usual I skimmed through the pages of the sole Bharathanatyam book we had in our collection. When I woke up this morning, I felt rested and relaxed. Spent a nice hour and a half practicing and correcting myself. Got dropped off at a friend's place where I got ample help for getting dressed. The dhavani component of the costume didn't sit as well as it should. A minor annoyance. The make up did not leave me with a feel good factor either. Was it the nose stud that I normally don't wear? I was not sure. Another minor annoyance. Then, my dance mate and I listened to the dance music while she was driving and I was coloring her daughter's hand (who was also performed tonight) with red marker. We reached the venue, exchanged greetings with other friends , quickly went through the sequence etc. etc. Then the program started with a bunch of us performing the invocation piece. It was a short piece and I was off in one or two places. No time for fretting though as I had to get ready for the next piece. This time it was an expression intensive item. No glaring mistakes but the item left me feeling I could have done better. The feeling should pass, I told myself and took delight in watching rest of the dancers perform. Apparently the feeling did not pass and only had a domino effect on the thillana. I missed thalams, went wrong with the abhinaya, and my thakka dhimmis were sloppy.

I would have played the sequence in my head a hundred times tonight to figure out what went wrong? what could I have avoided? was the practice not adequate? was I stressed out? was it the unfamiliarity with dynamics of live music? or was it just my state of mind? When a dancer knows that she has performed to the best of her abilities, it's a huge confidence booster. It's addicting. It makes her crave for more and more. Today I realized that when a dancer does not perform to the best of her abilities, it takes a while to forgive herself. But it still leaves her craving for more and more. To prove to herself that she can do better than that.

As I rinsed the urad dhal for making the dosai batter this morning, a million thoughts unrelated to each other were parading in my mind. Like peak hour bumper to bumper traffic on a Monday morning on I95.  What to cook? something easy but different. Should try the costume and see if it fits me. Have to spend time studying the directions to the venue for this afternoon's rehearsal. Silly me, I should have taken the offer to car pool with R. Why is it so hard to fit this cylinder in the grinder? did I not clean it well last weekend? Have to write to Atul's teacher regarding the likely dates for the project. May be Arvind will have some good ideas for the project. Should remind Arvind to call amma. Have to check out the book from the library. It's about time I changed the next laundry load. May be I should do the formals next week. What to make for breakfast? Arvind do you want to eat omlette for breakfast? shall I add some vegetables to it? Oh Lord, why is this grinder giving me trouble this morning? Grrrrrrrrrrrrr, one more thing to take care of on a day that's overflowing with commitments.

Then, I decided to give myself a time out from the mental checklist and just be. I sat down with  breakfast in hand, relishing one bite at a time. Everything else, from unfinished chores to the broken grinder had to wait in line to be taken care of. Hunger satiated, the traffic jam in my head slowly cleared. Lucky for me, the mechanic of the household, a.k.a. the husband, fixed the grinder and saved my day.

Phew! some mornings are more intensive than others.

So what was on your mind this morning? anything interesting? trivial? in the mood to share?

Air Conditioner. Exhaust Fan. Dehumidifier. Microwave. What's the pain point with these modern day inventions? They are loud. They are noisy. And they annoy me to no end. I cannot have them turned on for more than a few minutes. I barely let them do their jobs. The air conditioner is allowed to function only for as long as it can cool the room. It's noisy to have the A/C on and watch T.V. The longest I use my microwave is for 15 minutes for boiling potatoes. I enjoy cooking the good old way, on a stove top. It lets me have a conversation with a friend while I am cooking for the family. I have deep fried a total of ten to fifteen times these past 8 years mainly to avoid hearing the exhaust fan humming in high mode for the next couple of hours.

Then there are folks like my husband who go in search of white noise to put them to sleep. The fan is switched on every single night not for the breeze it produces but for the noise it creates.

How very fascinating that the human brain is wired so differently, isn't it?

God bless Google! I almost forgot that today was Gandhi Jeyanthi until I saw the image of Mahatma Gandhi doodled on the home page of my laptop screen and woke the patriot in me. As I saw Atul pass by I told him enthusiastically, "Atu, remember I have told you about Gandhi thatha? today is his b'day, let's talk about him after school, ok?". As planned, when we came back from school, Atu and I touched on this topic again. "Is Gandhi thatha real? is he invisible like Ommachi ?", asked curious little Atul who has been grappling with the concept of believing in Ommachis although they are someone whom he can't see and talk to. "He is not Ommachi Atu, but someone a lot of people respect. He was someone who did not believe in using violence to solve problems. I can show his pictures on the computer if you would like", I suggested. So Atul sat with slices of pizzas on his plate and I knelt next to him, and keyed in Mahatma Gandhi in good old you tube and clicked the video that had slide show of his pictures and played the Raghupathi Raghava song in the background. Then we hopped on to Vaishnavo janato by Lata Mangeshkar, by which time Atul was ready for a change in topic and requested for Lion King. But thoughts of Gandhi thatha still lingered and surfaced between Hakuna Matata and the Bear necessities of life . "Where is Gandhi thatha now?" . "He is dead Kanna." "How did he die." "Someone shot him." "What's his name? I want to see his face. Can you show me his picture. What happened to him. If Gandhi thatha did not use violence, how did he protect the good guys from the bad guys".  I should have seen this coming considering how obsessive he can be about the war between the good and the bad, the super heroes and the villains. I explained to the best of my abilities emphasizing the difference between violence and non-violence, censoring details that can wait till he grows a little older. That's the story of Gandhi Jeyanthi celebration at our household today. Do you have thoughts or stories to share on the topic?

* Thatha in tamizh means grandpa
* The Almighty is addressed affectionately as Ommachis by kids in tamizh

Update: I was pleasantly surprised to see so many updates on face book and twitter from desi friends who were as impressed with google as I was for celebrating Gandhi Jeyanthi.

I received this forward on the mayonnaise jar and two cups of coffee from a dear friend. I have read different versions of this forward and they all have evoked warm and fuzzy feelings about life.  It's true how much we can squeeze into our lives without our knowledge and at the peril of losing sight of the big picture. It's a battle I fight and guard myself against every day. I also agree that ten years down the lane I will not remember which window I cleaned but will fondly recall what book I read with my son. That being said, although chores seem inconsequential in the long-term, these are necessary evils that will have to be taken care of in the short-term. We all know how unfinished nitty-gritties can multiply only to create more labor for another day. The three loads of laundry that never got folded last weekend because we went apple picking will grow into six loads this weekend. The sambar stain on the cabinets that was not thoroughly cleaned because there was a phone call to attend from a friend now has tomato puree smeared on it. The lawn that never got mowed last fortnight because we chose to enjoy the sunny Saturday has more weeds and less grass now.

So what's my point? Time management is a hard nut to crack. I am all for smelling roses and flying a kite. Believe me, I really am. But I also see merits in taking care of the under-appreciated mundane tasks. If I fold my laundry over the weekend instead of doing an art project with Atul, does it mean that I chose to fill the mayonnaise jar with sand rather than golf balls? That's one way of looking at it. I would argue that the laundry folding would save Arvind and Atul the hassle of digging through the mountain of clothes in the morning rush hour during the week and perhaps will give Atul extra few minutes to play with his toy car or munch on his breakfast. So in some odd ways, the sand after all made room for more golf balls. What do you think?

I got caught red handed this week. Want to know what happened? You see during Atul's first keyboard class, the instructor had handed over a homework sheet which listed the days in the week with check boxes against them, a column listing songs and topics that required practice at home, and finally a row that totaled the minutes spent on the homework. Very professional, I thought to myself as I punched holes and filed the sheet in the binder at home. While we had fun listening to the songs during the week and did some selective practice on Sunday, I conveniently neglected rest of the homework during the week. So you can imagine my embarrassment as the teacher grandly announced that it's time to check the homework assignments and earn stickers. The voices in my head merrily chatted away as I sat with guilt creeping upon on me. What, he actually meant it when he distributed the sheets last week? We really have to do the homework at home? What was I thinking? Needless to say, thanks to my slackness Atul did not earn a sticker but the teacher was kind enough to appreciate the child for a good start. God bless him.

So it dawned on me this week that while I tend to do things in the last minute, I really can't pass my slackness and rush things with Atul, can I? There has to be a routine. A set time when he and I will sit down and learn together. And the learning process has to be laced with fun and silliness to sustain long term interest. Oh the joys of parenting!

As they started trickling in one after the other, the place was sizzling with vigor and excitement. First came the spirited mridangam artist, followed by the talented vocalist, then entered the experienced flutist and the soft spoken violinist. The cheery nattuvanar made the team complete. A group of eager (and chatty I might add) dancers were gathered on the other side of the room gingerly waiting for the rehearsal to begin while the dance teacher channelized the energy flowing through all the participants into something productive. What followed that afternoon was simply beautiful. The violinist and the flutist played their respective instruments to help the vocalist pick up the appropriate ragaam, the mridangam artist kept up with the timing and pace of the vocalist as well as the dancers and the nattuvanar took cues from the dancers as they executed the jathis to the beats of the song. 

I felt incredibly blessed to be part of something as beautiful and magical as this.

A soccer mom. That's who I have become starting last week. All along we had our reasons for not enrolling Atul in extra-curricular activities. As it is he spends a lot of time outside home. Why bother infusing some more rigidity to his routine? But for the past few months Atul's eagerness to learn had us thinking otherwise. Now seems to be the right age to expose and explore. That way when he grows up and has a handle over his likes and dislikes, he can pick and choose. Over the summer we exposed him to soccer and swimming. This Fall we will be experimenting with ice skating, swimming and key board classes. We have planned the classes such that it's loaded during the work week but has flexibility in routine during the weekends. He has gone for his first swimming and ice skating classes for this season. He loved every minute of the swimming class and did not miss an opportunity to learn and get better. On the contrary, every minute of the ice skating class was filled with challenges. If the class lasted for 30 mins, the kiddie would have fallen atleast for 25 mins. That must have been physically draining, but it did not drain his enthusiasm and interest in the class.  He kept trying and showed me first hand that success is not in never falling but rising every time you fall. So far not a whimper of discontent.  For that I am very thankful.

What all these extra-curricular activities mean is that the quantity of time that he will spend at home will go down, so we have to make sure the quality aspect of the leftover time goes high up in the scale. Easier said than done for a person like me who gets easily lost in the humdrum of life. I am also acutely aware that we should not live our life through him under the guise of exposing and experimenting.  Hopefully, with time we will learn to identify when we slip into that mode and correct ourselves. But for now, let the chauffeuring begin!

Networking pays. Not only when you are looking out for a job but also when you are shopping for ice skates for your pre-schooler. That's the lesson Arvind and I learnt as we went mall hopping on a Sunday afternoon spying for a beginners' ice skates for our offspring. The one store that had a size closer to Atul's carried a hefty price tag, which we had no intention of footing considering that it  will probably fit him  for a mere season. Ice skating sure is an expensive sport, moaned Arvind and I. On that sober note, we headed back home making a mental checklist of folks that we could borrow a pair from for the first class. That should buy us some time to find a better longer term solution we thought. As we pulled into our driveway we noticed our friendly neighbors indulging in a banter. Exchanging pleasantries with the said neighbors I narrated our vain attempts.  "You should try Sports etc., they carry good used ice skates", said the neighbor giving us a glimmer of hope. It was the long weekend, and the local store was closed. So no scope for instant search results. We bit our tongue and decided to wait it out. The next day, a light bulb went off in my head when I saw a colleague at work. Her son is an ice hockey player, and she is the person I should go to advised the voice in my head. Why didn't I think of this before? Mighty proud of the brilliant idea, I approached her. In a minute our quandary was resolved as she jotted down the name of the store she frequented on a sticky note. She also advised me as to how when it comes to ice skates, buying a used pair is the way to go. It sure makes economic and practical sense. That very afternoon Atul was a proud owner of a pair of ice skates. Arvind was in high praise of the store not only for the sheer variety but also for the exceptional service it offers to first timers.

Even in the age of amazon and internet searches, nothing can beat the word-of-mouth as a marketing strategy! What do you say? Okay, time to move on to my next quest - a good dentist referral. Any suggestions?

I have barely been able to keep my head above water this past month, which explains the lack of updates on this platform. So what have I been up to this past month? When you have a short summer like ours, you have to make the most out of every day. That's precisely what we have been doing. Going  on vacations, and frolicking with friends. We went to the Cape, visited the Vineyard, and had some beach fun. We also did a lot of local stuff - museums, the neighborhood bike path, the reservoir and the center playground were taken advantage of these past couple of months. Atul was exposed to swimming and soccer over the summer. We had our close friends visit us with their one year old son. The house was brimming with life for that one week and it was a welcome change of routine for us. In other news, I completed my fourth year of service at my company. I remember the apprehensions in the first year, beyond that everything seems to be a blur. It has been an adventurous journey as I witnessed my company transition from being a small start up to that of being a growth driver for a relatively huge publicly company. I have learnt a lot and there is more learning to come as I move forward. On the home front, I managed to do some micro cleaning of the house, which has left me with very little time to tend to the garden. May be that will be my Fall project.

Hope all of you had a happening summer and have slipped into a routine now that the school year is upon us. I can already see shades of yellow in our garden. Time to pull out the sweaters and the jackets out of the closet I say, albeit with some reluctance.

UL had narrated tales of her absentmindedness on her blog a few months back and I had promised to share mine for comic relief of the few readers that pass by this space and leave their footprint.

Technically, my tales are not that of absentmindedness. They lean towards my tendency to make things in my head. Sometimes the things that I make up in my head seem to me more real than reality itself. It almost always leaves me scratching my head - it's not me, is it?  It's one thing if you know you are committing a mistake, but another thing when you are blissfully unaware of your fallacies. You are beyond redemption. 

This episode happened about three years back. All dolled up and with a present in my hand, I drove down to a friend's place for her baby shower. As I approached the street on which her house was located, I noticed that I was the first person to arrive and it surprised me mildly because I thought I was a few minutes late for the party. Well, punctuality is a trait you don't expect in an Indian get-together, do you ? So reasoning, I knocked on the door and rang the bell a few times. Nobody answered and there was no sign of any baby shower whatsoever. I should have taken a hint by then. But no, I didn't. Instead, my otherwise unimaginative mind imagined a number of scenarios and I was strongly convinced that the most plausible explanation was that the baby decided to arrive earlier than expected. So I called up the dad expecting to hear a exasperated hello or a voice recording.  Neither happened and what did I hear instead. A very calm "Whats up Suman" greeting. Then and that instant it struck me that may be, just may be I came on the wrong day. I don't recall the conversation that followed after, all I remember was  frantically trying to recall the content of the invite to figure out where I went wrong - the venue, the time, the date, and the day. When I received the invite a couple of weeks back, I had conveniently made up the wrong day (a sat. instead of sun.) in my head. The reference I made in preparation of the baby shower there after was the day rather than the date, so the date of the baby shower took a back seat and the mistake was never corrected. I stood there cringing and squirming, looking for a place to bury my head. I came home so embarrassed to a husband who did his best to hide the uncontrollable grin on his face.  What a big joke, except that it was not funny when I went through it.

They say, once bitten twice shy. Not really, at least not in my case.  Last December, Arvind, Atul and I braved the snow storm and drove on a Sat. afternoon to a secret santa event that was rescheduled. This time too, ours was the only car (do you see a pattern here?). But with the weather so bad, one should only expect the unexpected (rationalizing again, I didn't learn from my mistake, did I?). The decorations were on, so I went ahead and knocked on the door. As our gracious hosts opened the door, I asked, is the party on? has nobody arrived? They asked if we did not get the rescheduled mail that not only mentioned change in date but also change in timing. For a second, I wished that I had inherited an invisibility cloak from an ancestor just like Harry Potter did from his dad. What was I going to say to Atul who was expecting to see Santa ho hoing. Our hosts invited us in and let excited Atul have fun. They were even kind enough to handover a spare present saying that it was from Santa. Of course, on our way home, Atul asked how come Santa did not come to give the present. It doesn't feel as tragic as I narrate it here, but I vividly remember my heart breaking into pieces thinking how I had ruined that afternoon for him. If that was not enough for the evening, thanks to our friendly street plower that had piled a mountain of snow in front our drive way, we had to dig our way into the house on our return.

That evening taught me to get more attentive to details and steered me away from making things in my head to suit my convenience. Every time I receive an invite or have a committment I signed up for, I am fanatic about entering the details in my calendar and sharing it with Arvind. Considering my track record, it doesn't hurt to have a second pair of eyes to spy on.

On that note, have a lovely weekend folks.

Stepping beyond one's comfort zone is hard enough. Stepping beyond one's comfort zone in order to pull someone else from their comfort zone is only doubly harder. That's the kind of challenge you will have to face when the needs of your child are no longer confined to eating, sleeping and playing. Let me explain.

You see I am the kind of person that reaches out for a pullover when the air conditioner hums on a hot summer day. I wear fuzzy socks when the temperature hovers around 60s. I go to the beach to get mesmerized by the vastness of the sea and to take pleasure in building sand castles rather than to get drenched by the waves. The days of longing to get soaked are far and between. Perhaps, on a hot and humid day, which is not an everyday occurrence even during summer in a place like Boston. So when I signed up Atul for the parent-child swim lessons, little did I realize what I was getting myself into.

My quandary started when I had to shop for a swim suit that I would be comfortable in and do the underlying preparations. First hurdle crossed, I heaved a sigh of relief when I stepped into the kiddie pool and realized that the water was after all knee-deep. No problem, this much I can do, I said to myself and started having fun with the son. Even that seemed like an effort on evenings that the sun chose to hide behind the grey clouds and deprive us of warmth. "Shake your hands and legs in water, and you will get warm soon", would be the instructors advise while Atul's teeth were chattering. So together Atul and I would splash, walk around, and obediently follow the instructions from the teacher. The real trouble began when she enthusiastically declared one evening, "I am going to spice the class a little bit and take you to the middle pool". The voice in my head screamed, no, don't do this to us, I am more than happy to have a class that's totally bland.

And then  the next instant  I noticed a pair of peering eyes staring at me. A pair of eyes that is an astute reader of my expressions and body language. A pair of eyes that can figure out when I am being genuine and when I am faking it. A pair of eyes that was eager to explore and have fun in the big boy pool. A pair of eyes that was looking up to me. So that pair of eyes silenced the voice in my head, and, spontaneously, I told  Atul, "Yay, I think the big boy pool is going to be more fun. The water will be deeper, but have no fear because amma is here".

Tomorrow will be the last parent-child swim lesson. I am so proud of us - Atul and I. As I write this post, I am not certain if I was the one that nudged him out of his comfort zone or if he was the one that encouraged me to tread new waters.