Rohini's hilarious post got me to come up with this one (though her tag is about the ironies of motherhood, I couldn't resist). Oh, and I big pink sparkly heart lists.
1. The first few units of weight gain happen in the body part you are most touchy about. For me, it is the first few ounces that get deposited on my face in the disgusting form of a double chin, making me look like I put on about 50 lbs when I can still fit in all of my old clothes.
2. Starting the day you decide to go for a jog every single day, it rains cats and dogs every single day till you forget your original resolution or lose your motivation, whichever happens first.
3. You see :insert-packet-of-some-ingredient: in the fridge every time you open the fridge and resolve to use it to make :insert-appropriate-dish: some time soon (you are already in the midst of making something else). One fine day, you actually decide to use that ever present ingredient to find that it has disappeared. And you just cannot fathom how.
4. You write a post full of despair and angst towards him and save it in your drafts meaning to publish it when you are feeling a little less resentful and a little more rational, when he springs a surprise on you with a very touching gesture. Shamefacedly, you delete the draft. All too soon, he infuriates you again making you scream in your head that all you had said in your aborted post is true and you should have published it after all.
5. When you are in the mood to simply rant, he plies you with solutions and suggestions. When you ask for his tactical advice, he tells you to do whatever you feel like or worse, "I don't know."
6. When your parents express concern about how they think you are not eating well at all from what you tell them, you reassure them forcefully that you are never going to be mistaken for a Somalian refugee. They now take a U-turn and ask you to be mindful of the problems associated with weight gain.
7. He hates eating out as much as you love it. You finish cooking but call to ask him if we could go out, fully expecting him to refuse and give you mental brownie points for not making a fuss. He asks you to pick the restaurant.
8. After over two years of living in Texas, you finally resign yourself and give up asking him to try Tex-Mex (tacos, burritos, etc) when he points out at a buffet how people are having rajma, chawal, salsa, avocado, cheese, what not wrapped in this roti-like thing, how he thinks it is pretty neat and we should definitely have it again.
9. Your good friend is a movie buff and you have opted out after about thirty minutes of several movies you try to watch together. One day, you resolve to be nice to her and sit through the end of the movie though you get so bored that you cannot even feel your brain seeping out of your ears. As the ending credits roll, she tells you how she couldn't cut short the one movie that you seemed to like, though she couldn't stand the movie herself.
10. To force feed yourself recommended amount of iron, you buy fortified cereal to find out that iron does not get absorbed if you consume it with calcium.
11. The day you decide to stay off something (ice cream, chocolate, chips, fries, anything) is the day it just decides to make itself available in copious amounts.
12. You find something ironic about so many things every day that it is not even funny after a point and you think it is going to be a breeze coming up with a list and then you find out that it takes forever and finally you give up.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Learning from experience
Background info: My mother is well above the average age of mothers of someone my age (did that make sense?) She has undergone five abdominal surgeries under general anesthesia (the thought of which sends shivers down my spine) - two C-sections and three hernias, very painful ones at that.
I have a lot to learn from her, from her calm, loving ways. Her even temperament in the face of volatility. *insert all other motherly virtues that you are in awe of - which, unfortunately, don't form the point of this post* One thing I have definitely learned from her already is to learn from experience and consider feedback from loved ones, which, if it is not obvious, she does NOT do.
I would dearly like to call my attempts at communicating with my mother challenging. But, if I wanted to be honest, I couldn't call it that. Maybe it was, ages ago. But not any more. It can only be called painful. Or anything else used to refer to a fruitless, excruciatingly long exercise. Though it sounds like we are probably not on the same wavelength because of age difference, that is not the case. Funnily enough, it has never been the case. When I was younger and people sometimes mistook her for my grandmother, I always thought that it was no big deal. She was fun (we are both the types who like doing our own thing in companionable silence) and we could connect. Until recently, when age, genetics and effects of anesthesia came together to pull us apart (OK, I am being melodramatic but I swear it is hard).
She has gotten TERRIBLY hard of hearing. This has been part of our lives for quite a while now but I realize exactly how bad it is, when we are away from each other and phone is the only means of communication between us. (She is not internet savvy and cannot email, chat, skype and such things.) Now, if your only exposure to people who are hard of hearing is through desi movies where the said person mistakes words for similar sounding and completely out of context words, you probably don't even realize how lucky you are. I know that seems to be scrapping the bottom of the luck barrel, but then you don't have to go through these -
* there are times when she just does not hear ANYTHING. I keep repeating myself, increasingly louder and slower. I can hear her tell people around that she cannot hear anything and the phone is really acting up, but the very fact that I can hear her say all that renders the phone excuse invalid.
* there are times when she hears part of what I say and she attempts to reply to that part alone, which is incomplete and sometimes contrary to the point in its entirety. For example, when I try to tell her something that was bothering me but is fixed now.
* there are times when she mis-hears what I say. What she hears are NOT rhyming words (desi movie directors, are you listening?) It is shocking to realize how different a story it could be that she hears from what I am actually saying.
* there are times she is telling me something but never hears my non-word responses (umm, uh-oh, aaah etc), resulting in her feeling that I am not interested in what she is saying and sending me on a guilt trip to Daughter Hell. Sometimes, she does not hear my verbal responses as well, which is, of course, a recipe for insanity.
* there are times when she is telling me something that I do not agree with (trivial and otherwise). And, there is NO way for me to tell her I do NOT AGREE...
* it is hard enough to talk about mundane things in this fashion (repeating many, many times; overlooking minor details that go unheard, literally) but it is just impossible to talk about meaningful things (relationships, feelings, career, etc). I have had real conversations with her only in person which boils down to about 21 days per year for the last two years.
Now, all I want from her is to try and get some kind of hearing aid. I know that might not work for everyone, etc, etc. But, all I want her to do is TRY. TALK to an expert, who can tell her if it is going to work for her or not. But, she refuses to do that, because, I *think* she does not even realize that it is indeed a problem for me. No one else faces this problem of having to communicate with her at any cost through the phone. And, this problem is way, way easier to tackle in person, especially when you are used to it, which we all are. So, everyone (read my father, brother, SIL) takes the easy way out for them (not force my mother to face reality and thus run the risk of being considered harsh/insensitive).
As a result, one of my favorite fantasies is having a conversation with my mother. On the phone. How many 26 year olds can beat that? Anyhow, tying things back to the title of this post, I have certainly learned one thing - when your loved one tells you something, listen. She/he probably has a point, however incredible it might seem. If having incorporated their input turns out to be a bad idea, it is still okay - most things are not irreversible and your loved one will appreciate your having tried, more than you can even begin to imagine.
I have a lot to learn from her, from her calm, loving ways. Her even temperament in the face of volatility. *insert all other motherly virtues that you are in awe of - which, unfortunately, don't form the point of this post* One thing I have definitely learned from her already is to learn from experience and consider feedback from loved ones, which, if it is not obvious, she does NOT do.
I would dearly like to call my attempts at communicating with my mother challenging. But, if I wanted to be honest, I couldn't call it that. Maybe it was, ages ago. But not any more. It can only be called painful. Or anything else used to refer to a fruitless, excruciatingly long exercise. Though it sounds like we are probably not on the same wavelength because of age difference, that is not the case. Funnily enough, it has never been the case. When I was younger and people sometimes mistook her for my grandmother, I always thought that it was no big deal. She was fun (we are both the types who like doing our own thing in companionable silence) and we could connect. Until recently, when age, genetics and effects of anesthesia came together to pull us apart (OK, I am being melodramatic but I swear it is hard).
She has gotten TERRIBLY hard of hearing. This has been part of our lives for quite a while now but I realize exactly how bad it is, when we are away from each other and phone is the only means of communication between us. (She is not internet savvy and cannot email, chat, skype and such things.) Now, if your only exposure to people who are hard of hearing is through desi movies where the said person mistakes words for similar sounding and completely out of context words, you probably don't even realize how lucky you are. I know that seems to be scrapping the bottom of the luck barrel, but then you don't have to go through these -
* there are times when she just does not hear ANYTHING. I keep repeating myself, increasingly louder and slower. I can hear her tell people around that she cannot hear anything and the phone is really acting up, but the very fact that I can hear her say all that renders the phone excuse invalid.
* there are times when she hears part of what I say and she attempts to reply to that part alone, which is incomplete and sometimes contrary to the point in its entirety. For example, when I try to tell her something that was bothering me but is fixed now.
* there are times when she mis-hears what I say. What she hears are NOT rhyming words (desi movie directors, are you listening?) It is shocking to realize how different a story it could be that she hears from what I am actually saying.
* there are times she is telling me something but never hears my non-word responses (umm, uh-oh, aaah etc), resulting in her feeling that I am not interested in what she is saying and sending me on a guilt trip to Daughter Hell. Sometimes, she does not hear my verbal responses as well, which is, of course, a recipe for insanity.
* there are times when she is telling me something that I do not agree with (trivial and otherwise). And, there is NO way for me to tell her I do NOT AGREE...
* it is hard enough to talk about mundane things in this fashion (repeating many, many times; overlooking minor details that go unheard, literally) but it is just impossible to talk about meaningful things (relationships, feelings, career, etc). I have had real conversations with her only in person which boils down to about 21 days per year for the last two years.
Now, all I want from her is to try and get some kind of hearing aid. I know that might not work for everyone, etc, etc. But, all I want her to do is TRY. TALK to an expert, who can tell her if it is going to work for her or not. But, she refuses to do that, because, I *think* she does not even realize that it is indeed a problem for me. No one else faces this problem of having to communicate with her at any cost through the phone. And, this problem is way, way easier to tackle in person, especially when you are used to it, which we all are. So, everyone (read my father, brother, SIL) takes the easy way out for them (not force my mother to face reality and thus run the risk of being considered harsh/insensitive).
As a result, one of my favorite fantasies is having a conversation with my mother. On the phone. How many 26 year olds can beat that? Anyhow, tying things back to the title of this post, I have certainly learned one thing - when your loved one tells you something, listen. She/he probably has a point, however incredible it might seem. If having incorporated their input turns out to be a bad idea, it is still okay - most things are not irreversible and your loved one will appreciate your having tried, more than you can even begin to imagine.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Mind over matter
In spite of my passable aptitude for cooking, I have always been intimidated by rotis, when I am solely responsible for making it from scratch. I have helped others make rotis (mainly flipping while they roll) but just the thought of kneading the dough, rolling and roasting (in parallel, that too) is overwhelming. One fine day (a few days ago), I decided that this is simply a 'mental issue' that can and should be overcome - I love rotis! ;)
I worked on my attitude first. Roti might be a 'simple', everyday dish for majority of Indians, but it is still challenging to make if you don't have practice. So, I started out telling myself that it is a hard task but I could do it, if I followed a methodical process and didn't get frustrated during the process. However, if I managed to screw up, it was OK. I could always try again tomorrow. Here goes my process ....
I took 2 cups wheat flour, 1/2 tsp salt and 2 tbsp oil in a bowl and mixed these for a few seconds. Added about half a cup of warm water (in two installments) and just mixed it to make a non-sticky mass. I know... looks weird but hang on!
I left this dough covered for a little over half an hour. Then, I kneaded the dough to make a nice, pliable mass.
Made little balls(!) out of the dough and rolled each one out. I am not exactly proud of the shape but I am not ashamed enough to not post the picture!
I, of course, wanted to capture the roasting of the roti as well but I had to take a call between a picture and a unburnt meal. The obvious option won.
Oh, and I am having this with a whole moong - chana dal curry. One difference was - I soaked the chana dal along with the whole moong overnight, since I am a little afraid of chana induced indigestion.
More than just getting over my cook's block, I am extremely happy about the timing. Today is a special day (not for bloggable reasons) and I couldn't have chosen a better day to let go of my roti demon. Yay!
PS: By the way, I am a camera phobe and still picking up the reins of using the most basic point and shoot features (another potential mind over matter issue but for later)
Update: Though I was happy with getting over my phobia, I was not completely happy with the output. It was nowhere close to as soft as it could or should be :) I think I have figured out what was wrong. In my anxiety to not make the dough sticky, I have in fact been using too little water. Today, for 3 cups of flour, I added close to 1 cup water and the resulting rotis were W.A.Y. better.
I worked on my attitude first. Roti might be a 'simple', everyday dish for majority of Indians, but it is still challenging to make if you don't have practice. So, I started out telling myself that it is a hard task but I could do it, if I followed a methodical process and didn't get frustrated during the process. However, if I managed to screw up, it was OK. I could always try again tomorrow. Here goes my process ....
I took 2 cups wheat flour, 1/2 tsp salt and 2 tbsp oil in a bowl and mixed these for a few seconds. Added about half a cup of warm water (in two installments) and just mixed it to make a non-sticky mass. I know... looks weird but hang on!
I left this dough covered for a little over half an hour. Then, I kneaded the dough to make a nice, pliable mass.
Made little balls(!) out of the dough and rolled each one out. I am not exactly proud of the shape but I am not ashamed enough to not post the picture!
I, of course, wanted to capture the roasting of the roti as well but I had to take a call between a picture and a unburnt meal. The obvious option won.
Oh, and I am having this with a whole moong - chana dal curry. One difference was - I soaked the chana dal along with the whole moong overnight, since I am a little afraid of chana induced indigestion.
More than just getting over my cook's block, I am extremely happy about the timing. Today is a special day (not for bloggable reasons) and I couldn't have chosen a better day to let go of my roti demon. Yay!
PS: By the way, I am a camera phobe and still picking up the reins of using the most basic point and shoot features (another potential mind over matter issue but for later)
Update: Though I was happy with getting over my phobia, I was not completely happy with the output. It was nowhere close to as soft as it could or should be :) I think I have figured out what was wrong. In my anxiety to not make the dough sticky, I have in fact been using too little water. Today, for 3 cups of flour, I added close to 1 cup water and the resulting rotis were W.A.Y. better.
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