Yesterday, Yaya and I attended her grade 11 orientation day where she has to pick the subjects she is going to study the next 2 years, the subjects that will be the foundation for her future. Until now, her life was dictated by the dept of education when it came to the subjects she had to study and now she has to make the decision.

When she came back home after school, she looked visibly upset and went to her room right away. Normally, she would take her lunch bag out of her bag and put the containers for washing and make herself a sandwich, often steal my tea while eating her sandwich, then she talks to her siblings about her day and they all chat about anything and everything under the sun.

A part of me wanted to go to her and give her a hug and tell her that  choosing the subjects isn’t the end of the world and that I am there with her always, but I knew my head would be chewed off. So I let it go.

The meeting was at 7 and before we left I cooked Bhattura and chickpeas curry. When Yaya was little, she could never say chickpeas and always said pick cheese and it is still one of her favourite meal. She didn’t want to eat. I really wanted to give her bop on her head because by the time we get back home, it will be pretty late and she would be famished and that will make her even more crabby. But being the nice mom that I am, I let her starve if that was her choice and packed crackers and cheese to take with me.

As soon as I parked my car, she got off and was met with a bunch of her classmates and I was left standing there alone. I didn’t even know where the meeting was. But fortunately there were other parents there as well and I followed them.

I have an attention span of 15 minutes, after that my mind will wander. This is what I learned in the first 15 minutes. Her principal spoke about “letting your children choose the subjects  they love” Because it isn’t the grade that matters in the long run, but the love they have for the subject that will lead them to a career they would love and will help them to live a fruitful life.

I love science. I still study science and read all the latest scientific papers and journals. I am also exceptionally good in maths especially when it comes to questions in Maths challenge competitions,  but I hate maths. Solving a rather difficult maths question gives me absolutely no satisfaction, but learning about Dr. Lakshmi Devi’s discovery of CYM51010 an alternative opioid pain reliever without the usual risk of dependence  makes me really happy. When I was 15, I knew that I will never study maths and even though my mother registered me to do maths as an extra subject for pre degree, I cancelled it without her knowledge and spend the 90RS fees that was returned to me for buying masala dosa in the canteen for few months 🙂  I was not worried about my future. I took the decision not to do maths, even though by doing so, I limited my future to only health sciences. I knew what I wanted and also knew that I am capable of reaching where I want to be.

Drive back home, while munching the crackers and cheese, Yaya asked

“Mom, how do I know what subject I should pick, I am so scared that if I pick  the wrong subject and my grades will suffer?”

I asked Yaya ” Do you know what is my favourite cartoon movie?”

“Lion King” She replied without any hesitation.

I started to sing my favourite song and initially Yaya said “Mom, you can’t sing to save your life” I ignored her and continued to sing and after few seconds she too joined.

After the song, I told Yaya, there is a place for you in this world and she will get there and I will always there for her and she should pick the subjects she love, not because it is a bludge subject, but because doing it makes her happy. This but a circle of life.

Sometime ago, Yaya was getting  in to trouble with her class teacher every day. Beginning of the  year, when she saw the teacher’s list and saw who was going to be her class teacher, she said “mom, I hate her”

“Hate is such a strong word” I replied. I have been on the receiving end of teacher’s wrath not because I wasn’t a good student, but because of my hatred for them or the way they teach. You learn from your experiences and I didn’t want Yaya to screw up her future. The next few years are really crucial for her and teachers play a huge role when it comes to her grade. When I was young, I thought it isn’t the marks that counted, but my knowledge. I was a fool. No one really cares about how much you know, unless you can validate your knowledge with a good grade/mark.

“But Mom, You are not getting my point. We talks about our rights to love, live a comfortable life, right to education, healthcare etc, but no one understands that just as we have a right to love, we do have a right to hate. I can hate her, it is my right. Just because she is my teacher doesn’t mean that I must like her, there is no such law”

Whenever I argued with my mother and I had valid points, my mother wouldn’t accept my point or refute them. Instead she used to shout and yell and blame my father. grandmother etc and the whole argument changes the dimension and I ended up feeling mad at my mother. I had promised myself then that I will always listen to valid arguments. I felt Yaya’s points had some merit.

I have never met Celine Dion. Her Titanic theme song, my heart will go on, came out in 1997. I was expecting Yaya then and I was under bed rest. Local radio station played the song over and over and I can’t explain how much I hated the song and the singer, which is very unusual because I love music. Many years later, there was a competition on the same local radio and Paula Malai Ali and her twin sister Jenny were participating and they both said, they hate Celine Dion too. I felt so good driving to work that day. Because I was not the only one who hated Celine Dion. But to this day, I don’t know why I hate Celine Dion.

Her teacher picked on every little thing Yaya did and most days she came home fuming. One incident was, Yaya didn’t have her lap top ready before the class started. The process involved opening the lap top screen and it takes less than 5 seconds. She then had to endure 10 minutes lecture about “importance of being prepared”.

I realized, I can’t make my child not hate her teacher, let alone suck up to the teacher. She still has another 6 more months to go through and I explained to Yaya that if she sits like a statue the entire class, looking intently at the teacher and not say a word to her friends, she will win this game and the teacher will eventually stop picking on her. I also told her that she can listen to the music by passing the headphone through the jacket sleeve and use her hand as a head support. (http://www.wikihow.com/Listen-to-Music-in-Class). It worked. Yaya doesn’t sit with her friends, her brother has uploaded some chat system on her lap top and her friends’ that allows them to chat with each other, bypassing the teacher’s computer/control. She also listens to the music.

But the teacher stopped  picking on her.

I do worry that she might get caught one of these days for listening to the music and all hell will break loose. I don’t have any ready excuse to get out of that mess, but for the time being, all is well.

I live in a predominantly South African neighbourhood. Most of them are really nice, except the one whose daughter and son were/are classmates of my children and lives closest to me. She works in the local supermarket and always gives me a dose of her horrible ‘nose up in the air’ attitude.  I have known her since I came to Australia and learned to ignore her arrogance and obvious hatred for the coloured! ( She will not even let her children play with mine.)

Few days ago, as I was driving out to the main road, I noticed that water was flowing from her storm drain on to the road. She must be cleaning her swimming pool, so I thought. I got back home pretty late in the evening that day and only remembered to check for mail in my letter box while cooking the dinner. My house is the last house in the street and while getting the letters from the mail box, I noticed that water is still flowing in to the storm drain outlet near the end of my property. It occurred to me that it doesn’t take all day to empty the pool and that there must be a massive water leak in ‘our’ friend’s house and she doesn’t know about it.

Water is extremely expensive here. The council in their quest to make quick bucks have decided to charge exorbitant amount of money for water and then claim that they are doing so, because of the constant drought and need to force the people to save water! I don’t waste a drop of water, yet I pay 300$/quarter.

I changed my clothes, walked the 1.5 km to her house and knocked at the door. She opened the door ( just the door, not the security grill), looked at me rudely and said

“yes”

I told her ,” There is water flowing from your storm drain to the road, I think you have a burst pipe”. She said “ok” and closed the door on my face.

I was so angry with the way she treated me. I was doing her a favour. Saving her from paying a huge water bill. I was fuming the walk back home and I said aloud as I entered my house

“Jeez, she is so effing rude, I am never going to tell her if the water is leaking again”

My youngest was in the living room and replied

“mom, just because she is rude doesn’t mean you have to be rude as well”

The thing is, this was the lesson I taught my kids from the time when they were little.

“Just because, your sister/brother is mean, doesn’t mean that you have to be mean” or “just because they did ‘whatever’ doesn’t mean that you have to do the same”

Sometimes, I ought to remember to practice what I preach.

When I was about 13 years old, my aunt had just finished her degree and came to stay with us doing the summer holidays,while her family was looking for a “suitable boy”.. Amma enrolled her in an Institute named Trupti. I don’t know if you can name Trupti as an institute. It was the Kottayam version of  a finishing school. It was located en route to the children’s library, past the Thirunakkara temple. Sometimes my aunt would take me with her because she didn’t want to walk alone and I waited for her at the library and on a good day, she might even buy me Lassi from the Milk shop next to the musical instruments shop. My aunt was very condescending and treated me as though I was without a brain. And being a teenager, that was the last thing I wanted. But the trip allowed me an escape from home, plus Lassi and library. I couldn’t resist!

Part of the lessons at the institute was cooking and one day, she was taught how to make Coconut Barfi. I remember how excited I was, when my aunt offered to make coconut barfi for all of us. It was a long process. First we had to scrape coconut very carefully, so no brown colour stuff got mixed in the coconut.

The goodness of the Barfi was directly proportional to how white it was ! Her Instructor was very particular about that.

Then we had to dry the coconut for a day in the hot sun. The next day, I had to grind sugar in to a fine powder. Amma had a Braun grinder and I measured one cup of sugar, as per the recipe and pressed the start button. What I didn’t know was that the volume of powdered sugar is much bigger than 1 cup of raw sugar. Almost quarter of the sugar fell down, when I opened the lid. More was lost when I (stupidly) took out the blade and then removed the grinder from the base. If my aunt was condescending before this drama, you could imagine the grief she gave me after! She and amma joined together and insulted me a lot.

I felt everyone makes mistakes in their life and I didn’t deliberately choose to waste the sugar. I didn’t eat the coconut barfi that day because I was so mad.

Last Saturday, I was at the basket ball game with my youngest and as usual was texting Yaya. I often tell her that she is the best daughter a mother could ever have, for which she will always reply, ” I know I am” and then we go back and forth about why Gasconade isn’t very good !  Then I asked her if she would cook lunch as by the time I got back home, I will only have about 20 minutes before taking my son for his Basketball game. She didn’t reply. Conveniently evaded the topic. So I thought. But then again, she was on her way home after work and I shouldn’t have asked her to cook.

I wasn’t expecting her to cook and was shocked to see her in the kitchen when I got back. This is how the kitchen looked.

My blender had tomato puree all over. ( This is the blender, that is 4 years old and still look brand new. part of my OCD is the obsession to keep my kitchen gadgets really clean!!) All three of my cutting boards were out, so were the knives, peeler and the can opener. My peeler is 20 years old. I always wash it right after using it, so it lasted this long. The sink was empty when I left in the morning and now had more bowls than what I would have, when I had 20 friends over for a meal.

“What are you cooking?” I asked her.

“Mexican rice” She told me.

“Smells really good” I told her.

“Mom,Sorry about the blender, it over flowed”  She said.

I helped her to clean the blender ( and the bowls, knives, peeler etc). My blender still has a reddish hue. but it is just a blender. In a few years, Yaya will leave home and each time I use my blender, I will remember her making Mexican rice. I also know that eventually Yaya will learn to use the blender correctly, like I did.

We had Mexican rice and spicy tomato and green chilli salsa for lunch. It was really good.

My son calls me Mrs. Shelly Cooper every now and then after Sheldon Cooper of Bing Bang Theory. The first time, he called me Mrs. Shelley Cooper, he was also very clear in telling me that he has named me so,not at all because I am smart like Sheldon, but because of the way I shop.

Apparently in an early episode, Sheldon told Penny to buy female hygiene products in bulk when they are on sale because they are used regularly and don’t have an expiry date.

You see, when I do my grocery shopping, I buy soap, shampoo etc  in bulk if they are on sale. I use Pantene shampoo and conditioner and I have never bought them paying the full price. The same with the laundry detergent. Every 10 weeks, Coles sell  the detergent I use  ( Attack brand)50 % off. I replace my stock every 10 weeks. The marketing strategy used is brilliant. They promote the product by selling it at 50% off and when the soap is finished in the first 6-8 weeks ( 1kg soap = 25 washes, average family will do minimum three loads of washing/week= 12 washes a month) you end up buying it at full price and unless you are smart and buy few boxes of soap the first time and keep replenishing the stock whenever it is on sale, you will end up paying the full price forever !

I am frugal, not because I want to live a miserable life like my mother did, but because I want to spend the money on things I like. I live in a small home, I own nothing fancy ( except my car), I buy most of my clothes from Thrift shops. I am happy with what I have.

Found this article and thought I will share it here.

Frugal habits of the super rich

I am away till Monday.

Have a jolly good weekend.

I am pretty handy when it comes to routine house maintenance issues. It isn’t because I am very smart, it is because, I have no choice but to do it by myself.

The first time I learned the valuable lesson of “never ever call a trades man/repair guy” was when I was living in Canada. Yaya wanted to learn to play the piano and I found a cheap Yamaha on the Craig’s list. One key wasn’t working. Yaya and I are ” play by the ear” kind of people and when one key doesn’t work, it bothered both of us..You could distinctly hear that emptiness of the missing note. I found a piano repair guy’s number in the Yellow pages and called him. I explained what is wrong and asked how long it would take to fix it. He said less than an hour. He came, tinkered a bit and suddenly we had 6 keys not working. He spend the next 4 hours fixing the piano and he gave me the bill for 200$. I paid him from the 400$ I set aside to pay the rent. Until that day, I had no idea how expensive it was to call someone to repair something. In Malaysia the same would have cost me less than 50RM. ( To be honest, I would have been able to buy a new Piano instead of repairing the old one)

It was a very hard lesson to learn and I have been careful ever since.

Sometime ago, I needed to change the washer for a leaky tap. I opened the cover for the mains and stared at the valve. I didn’t know which way to turn the bloody thing to close it. My son seeing the puzzled look on my face told me

“Mom, remember, loosey lefty, righty tighty”. Apparently, his skateboard instructor had taught him that. You turn it left to loosen something and right to tighten it.

I was terrified of screwing up the simple chore of changing the washer. I imagined causing the next flood..and a huge water bill. I took a visual image of each item I opened/took out from the tap ensuring that every little detail is stored in my brain, so I knew where it should all go back.For once I wanted to be born as a man, because all these activities comes so natural to them. After plenty of cursing and swearing, I managed to change the washer. Both the tap and Sarah survived to tell the tale.

Few days ago, I was baking meat loafs for my children’s school lunch and the cheese on top wasn’t melting quickly enough and I was running late. I thought, I will use the toaster oven to melt the cheese. I cranked up the heat in the toaster oven. Next thing I know the power to the living room and the garage was gone. I checked the mains and the ELCB was down. I had no idea if the ELCB knob should be down or up. Power to the wifi was down as well. So I couldn’t check the net. I asked my son to use my phone to see if the ELCB knob should be down or up and he thought I was asking him what ELCB was and was looking for that. Obviously, I knew what ELCB was and I was mad at him for not understanding what I was asking him to find out. Since the power was off in two rooms and all the other knobs are in the on position, I assumed ELCB tripped.

I switched off all the plugs and tried to lift the ELCB knob. It stayed in the on position till I switched on one of the plugs. It made no sense to me and I knew there was a leak somewhere. My process of elimination to find out where the leak was a failure. I had to leave home for work and I did. Both my fridge and freezer were not working and I couldn’t afford to throw all the food out. So, I called an electrician and organized him to pick up the key from my neighbour.

I came home to find a bill for 98$. Apparently, my 4 year old toaster oven decided to die and all the electrician did was to  disconnect it completely by removing the plug from the socket. His time is counted hourly plus the GST cost me 98$  ( I swear, in my next life I want to be either a plumber or an electrician)

Instead of switching of all the plugs, I should have pulled all the plugs out and then tried to plug it in one by one. I didn’t know that.

I know 98$ isn’t much. But still, it was my 98 $..there is so much I could have done with my 98$

That is me.

Sometime ago, there was an article in the local paper about a very successful woman who was able to manage her career and her children. It was mentioned that she goes to the gym at 4AM every day and then gets back home, prepare breakfast etc and drop her children to school before going to work.

I admire her.

I didn’t register my son for ice hockey when we were in Canada because it meant  that I had to take him for his lessons at 5 AM. But it was not physically possible to get three kids ready early in the morning ( couldn’t leave the kids alone at home because of the child safety laws) and then wait in the car/arena till my son finished his practice. But that was only part of the reason why I didn’t register my son, because if I really wanted, I could have arranged car pooling with other moms. The main reason is, I am selfish when it comes to my time. I love my children more than anything else on earth, but I am not willing to be a super mom. I want to live my life by doing things I really want to do. Getting up early in the morning isn’t one of my favourite things to do. Neither is giving up my Sundays. My son loved ice skating and I think, perhaps if I was a ‘good’ mom, he might have been a famous ice hockey player! ( belum cuba, belum tahu !)

I didn’t want to stop living my life because I became a mother. I loved to sip my tea and read the paper in the morning  before the kids woke up. I loved those moments of quietness in the morning. It was my time..mine alone and I refused to give that up.

My Sundays are again reserved for me. I do not sign the kids up for any sports that has practice/games on Sundays. I sleep in late on Sundays, Then I make a pot of tea and drink it while reading my paper. My son makes breakfast. if the weather is good, I do some gardening. If any of the kids owe me a meal for the 10$ I gave during the week, then that person cook lunch, if not, I cook ela shappadu. Rest of the afternoon I play board/card games with my children. if they have homework to do, then I spend my afternoon learning new things..current passion is embroidery. I used to do Kutch work when I was young. I had forgotten how to do it and the past few sundays I have been spending more time trying to thread the needle because I can’t see the hole in the needle and am too stubborn to ask for help and than learning how to do the stitch.. But I am getting there. I have this delusion of making a skirt for Yaya..like the one I had when I was young. Peacock blue skirt with rows and rows of colourful kutch work and mirror work..

I can give my children  all my time and attention Monday to Saturday from 6.30 AM till 9 PM. But I will keep the early mornings and the Sunday for me.

Selfish, I know,

Many many years ago, I read a book called At home on the range by Margaret Yardley Potter. It was among the collection of recipe books that belonged to my grandmother’s best friend. I have never stolen anything ( except amma’s achappam achu, which I asked her nicely and she didn’t give, so I decided to take the achu on a holiday to Malaysia), but I really wanted that book. Unfortunately, the lady who owned the book had eagle eyes and good memory and I was too chicken to do the deed.

I like unusual recipe books, not your standard type of book with photographs and clear instructions. I like to read about stories behind the recipe and I like an author who  understands that cooking is all about common sense.

On my recent visit to the library I was surprised to find that Margaret’s great grand daughter has published the same book again. I was so excited to get my hands on the book and What I liked  the most  is the author writing “there is no substitution for good food or a comfortable bed” The rest of the things can be easily substituted. You can buy furniture from junk yard, clothes from thrift shops, you can even have a home in a trailer park.. But there is no substitute for good food or a comfortable bed.

I know that because I write about Indians and often portraying them in a bad light, I am considered to be anti Indian, which is not true. It Is just that I call a spade a spade and most people feel betrayed when our own kind is writing badly about our own people.

The past two weeks of school holidays, I had a lot of children coming to my house for sleep overs etc. The one thing that set apart the Indian kids and the Caucasian kids is “aarthi” I am sure there is a an English word for it, but I really don’t know the right word. Even for simple thing like chocolates, the Indian kids acted like they have never seen it before.

When I went back home to Malaysia after completing MBBS, with my first salary, I took my cousins out for a meal. It was the famous Lion’s restaurant in Luyang ( Kota Kinabalu). We ordered mixed vege, Japanese tofu in clay pot, steamed fish in soy sauce and a chicken stir fry. What I remember the most is what happened  when the food was served. My cousin’s 11 year old son in his hurry to grab the food before everyone else had a chance, leaned forward so much that he fell off the chair. There definitely was enough food for everyone, but there was no limit to the boy’s aarthi.

Why do our children behave this way? Is it because  we give the least importance to food at home and are more concerned about fripperies that makes us feel rich?

There was an article in the latest edition of Better Homes and Garden asking the readers what do you like about your house?

That got me thinking.

I wanted something unique, like one of the display homes that you see in better homes and garden magazine. a home that comes alive with my creativity..

Now, there is the problem. I have not a single creative bone in my body. Each room in my house is painted in a different colour ( I love bright colours) All my furniture are mismatched. I change my living room décor every season. ( like they say, there is no limit to madness)

My house certainly doesn’t look like any display home you ever saw.

But what I really like about my home?

It is the laughter. You can often hear my children laugh.

Yesterday my son was telling me ” Mom, did you know if you drop a raisin in to a flat champagne, it would bring the fizz back?”

“What is the scientific reason behind your logic?” I asked

He didn’t know. So I told him ” Toothless, you are always half cooked because you never find out the full scientific reason. I should name you half cooked toothless dragon”

“Half cooked?” Saying that he lifted his arm, checked the colour and then pointed his brown skin and told me ” Mom, you are wrong, I am well done”

And we laughed so much. That is what means the most to me.

Btw, adding a raising to flat champagne will make it fizz, but all that the raisin is doing is providing a nucleation site for the remaining carbon dioxide in the champagne and though you see it fizzing, it will make it even more flat. ( you can see the effect by dropping a raising in to a glass of coke/sprite etc)

What do you like about your home?

My son has been working on a robot prototype that can be used in Mines. Every Wednesday, you can find me glued in front of the telly at 9 pm watching Criminal Minds. I am a sucker for Mentalist and Criminal minds. Now that it is school holidays and that his mom is sitting without a book, my son decided to join me and he brought along his robot to show me the features. During ad break he would explain to me about his robot and then keep it on the floor.

Mothers have a sixth sense and mine said keeping his precious robot on the floor isn’t a smart thing to do. So I told him “Son. living room floor isn’t a safe place to keep the robot, please keep your robot in your room and I will have a look at it afterwards”

He ignored me.

Because baby is only 11, she isn’t allowed to watch Criminal minds and she came to me during the ad break to ask me the meaning of a word that was in her book. Obviously her head was inside the book and she didn’t see the robot on the floor.

Those of you who watched rape scenes in Mallu movies in the mid 70’s would have seen the man running..the deer running..man running fast, deer running fast, man running faster..deer running faster..( then I honestly don’t remember what happend, I was too mesmerised by the music increasing in tempo and all the running !)

And in this case everything happened just the opposite..in slow motion..baby taking each step and walking towards me while still reading her book, me about to scream watch out and my son leaping from the couch to grab his robot before she stepped on it.

Fortunately she didn’t completely step on the robot, but she knocked some off the sensors off.

My son grabbed his robot from the floor, examined the damage. He did try to go after his sister, but I told him No, she has a right to walk in the common areas of the house without stepping on things, because each member of the family has a duty of care.

Meanwhile he was still sitting at the foot of the chaise and the next thing I know, he pushed my feet off the chaise in his anger.

He looked like a puffer fish, albeit red in colour and was shaking in anger.

His actions bothered me very much. First of all, I warned him not to leave his robot on the floor. secondly, what is the point in getting angry when something breaks? Your anger doesn’t bring it back to its original shape.

It isn’t that I didn’t understand his frustrations.. I know how much work he has put in to his robot. But he is the one who chose to keep it on the floor in the living room and he is the one who is angry with me, when I have done nothing.

He apologized for his actions later..

But it still feels unsettling..One day he will be a husband and a father and I worry if  he is going to be like his father?