Poopy diaries!

I know cleaning my daughter’s glorious behind should come naturally to me by now. I should be able to do it in my sleep, blindfolded. Ah… but the SMELL?!

I’m so proud of my self every time my little girl takes a dump.because every soiled diaper is a sign, it shows how much effort goes into putting stuff from the other end. after all what goes in has to come out some time right? right?

My daughter loves it when I change her. Her expression is priceless when I pull down her diaper (I do it while she is standing, its easier for us). She looks at it and squeals with joy. Perhaps she got it from me. I scrutinize every diaper to rule out diarrhea or constipation. So while I scan her droppings she does it too, with me. I’m probably ruining her chances of being the ‘cool’ kid in school, by announcing her mild obsession with dirty diapers. kudos to me!

So, the other day she pooped about two or three, pea sized beads of mush. It wasnt alarming, but it was good to know she needed some more water. A few hours later while I was cleaning up around the house I noticed some cereal on the floor. My daughter had dropped it from her high hair when she was having breakfast,yes breakfast. We dont clean up very often.Not because I don’t want to but mostly because my daughter is a good excuse for not doing the chores. Also little A is fascinated by food splattering on the floor when  drops it from her chair. The little evil midget! So I start picking up random bits of chocos around the house. and soon I found an oddly shaped one, I picked it up and looked at it closer only to find out it was a bit of her poo, which happened to escape the diaper.

I was totally disgusted! god forbid, if I had decided to eat the cereal as I was picking them up (no food should go to waste, I try to set a good example.Also, because I am to lazy to make a decent meal for myself, most of my nutrition comes from the floor…a.k.a the leftovers). It would have made a good story though, but I think this close encounter was just as good.

P.S : on a totally unrelated note. I am planning on doing something useful with my limited hours of alone time. I have no idea what, but I think its going to be something crafty. It is totally irrelevant, but I think writing it down makes it more real.

Have a great day!

-The Sparxler.


Am I depressed?

I’ve never been a happy person. My periods of extreme happiness are usually frequented with bouts of indescribable misery. And guess what? usually it is for stupid reasons. But something seems different these days. I m really upset with life, not because it hasn’t been good to me. actually it has been too good. my life is perfect, but not for me. I have  perect  husband, who breaks all the indian stereotypes by pitching in, running errands around the house. I have a perfect daughter who basically tought herself how to stand and cruise around without support pretty early. I have a lovely mother in law who again breaks all indian stereotypes by not interfering with how I want to raise my child.

I must be really happy right? I am! this is what I try to convince my self every day. I keep telling my self I am blessed. I AM blessed, but I still think I’m missing something. I feel like there is, no ‘me’ in the picture. Sure I love taking care of the baby and making meals and cleaning the house. But I can’t bring my self to accept the fact that this is what my life has come to. My sole purpose of living is making sure the diapers are al thrown away and not lying around the house ‘freshening’ things up.

Maybe one day it will click. Maybe one day I will have a revelation about what I want to do with life. Maybe I need help. Maybe I just need some vodka and a trip to Goa. I just know one thing for sure, I m not happy at the place I am right now. Gosh! I feel like a horrible person, a really bad mother for writing this. But somethings have to be vented. This is the only thing I can do right now to bring my sanity back on track.

Im really hoping your day is better than mine.



Scaby baby!

No it isn’t a typo. Little A, actually went by that name for a few weeks back when she was younger, well..younger than she is now. Probably around five months. She developed a very bad looking rash on her underarm, which was immediately diagnosed by yours truly, as heat boils (never diagnose your child! Never!)

Pretty soon the rash was a usual sight and I got used to it as it wasn’t doing anything. I was just going to have to teach her to love her body the way it is. My baby did not seem uncomfortable, and it did not spread so I thought , if she is fine…I’m fine too.  And then it got worse.

One day she had a terrible diaper rash. It was bad. The skin around her crotch was gooey and wet. She looked like she was in so much pain. On checking with the doctor, we found out that rashes were actually pretty common in babies (revelation!). The doctor did not look worried at all, and the rash cleared itself in a few days with a simple ointment. So far so good yea?

A, then devolped really pink cheeks, really pink. It was cute in the beginning but then it started to break out and looked like a horror movie. It was worse under the sun, again, I dint bother and assumed it was becaus she was just extra sensitive to the light. Finally when her skin was almost red, we got that checked out. Apparently, that was common as well. Contractual dermatitis. Again, it cleared within a few days with a simple ointment.

This was about the time when hell broke loose. I was bathing her one day and found gigantic sores under her waist around her hips. It was as if the rash had migrated to her hips. I was terrified, these things were humongous. We got that diagnosed from a dermatologist, because we knew this timeless needed to pull out the big guns.

The derm aka the big guns pulled out a camera he had sitting on his desk and started clicking pictures of my daughters sores. At this point a lot of things were on my mind. Did A actually have something that bad? Was it something rare and dangerous? Are we doomed?

So after casually passing a comment on how taking care of the child is a mothers job, (just because little A wouldn’t leave her daddy that day and ended up sitting on his lap), he looked at us and told us our little angel had scabies.

What?! I had no idea what that was. But it sounded really scary.I couldn’t wait to get back home and google the crap out of it. I looked at my daughter and smiled, because she was laughing , babbling away happily, having absolutely no clue that she has small mites crawling underneath her skin. Suddenly the sleepless nights made a lot of sense. The wriggling, the crying, the rashes…. My world came crashing down.

We got it all sorted out within a few days. Turns out I was infected as well.  Some people in the house had it too. We were giving it to each other. The doctor mentioned it to us only during the second visit, the decontamination was supposed to be a family thing!

I learnt a lot of things from this ordeal. Just because I like lists a lot, because who reads a whole freaking paragraph, when you can have them all bulleted for you!!!

1. Google is not your friend. Period.

Sure it helped me a lot during my pregnancy to keep track of the little grapefruit growing inside me. But once the grape fruit is out, shit gets real. Every cough can be life threatening and every rash is a disease. So ofcourse it was very successful in convincing me that this condition will definitely live up to its name….. Seven year itch’!

2. Love usually comes from someone close, so does infection.

Turns out the whole ordeal started from my dad,s mothers village which is miles away from proper civilisation. We tried to knock some sense into them by explaining the reason the behind their scratchy skin. They looked at us with amused faces. We also told them it might be because of mite poop, their amused faces started laughing. Well, at least we tried.

3. Babies are stronger than what we give them credit for.

Little A bounced back perfectly fine after the whole thing. She doesn’t flinch when she gets her shots. Sometimes I think, all the itching has basically numbed her. Or maybe she is just has high tolerance. What ever it is, I’m still awestruck at how well she beaded it all. I mean, we did not find out until it was really bad.

To sum it all.

Did it scare the life out of me…duh yes! I was shivering for no reason one night, apparently it was because I was really scared…. From the inside.

but it has also made me stronger and more prepared for the future. As a mother I just want to build a bubble around my precious little girl protecting her from everything possible. Sometimes, it’s okay to let that bubble burst, because once it does…. You realise you were strong all this time. After all, we pushed a soccer ball out of our vaginas!!





Its been a while, my daughter was busy growing, basically creating a ruckus. She started walking by the time she hit the seven month mark (I did want to write about that). well, I really wanted to write about how worrying it was that my little bub wasn’t crawling as well as her cousin (Yes! I compare… I like to know what is happening with the other kids in the block).

And BAM! she skipped the whole rolling in the dirt stage to stomping in the dirt stage. and now she is stomping around carrying random heavy stuff which no ten month old is supposed to carry. firstly because they don’t realize they are supposed to do that and secondly, when they let it go…it hurts like a bitch.

So, here I am… just making sure my existence is not forgotten. Have a fabulous day everyone!


Rules of my in-laws

living with the in laws has never been fun for anyone… At least for all my friends. In a country like India where dowry related crimes still exist, living with the in-laws brings shivers down anyone’s spine.

although things have changed and mother in laws have evolved to becoming second mothers to their son’s wife, their strings which bound them together for a very long time never fail to detach. My husband is the youngest and was born after almost 10 years after his elder siblings. As usual he was showered with immense love and I was showered with immense pressure of taking care of the apple of their eyes.

My MIL often treats him with special surprises in the kitchen when no one notices or when she thinks no one notices. I would often find him gulping down extra omelettes, the ‘good’ mutton, the extra sweet tea, biscuits…you get the gist. For a long time I was oblivious to everything that went on behind the closed kitchen doors, until I reached my breaking point when I was pregnant. The special attention was not received kindly by my not so flattering humongous belly. After all I was the one who was supposed to eat for two. I was oddly comforted when I saw my husbands belly grow with mine…. So in the end it was all good.

Things were fine until my mother decided to visit and stay with me when we came back to India from Qatar… Just until my husband got the hang of the whole child rearing thing. Things got worse when she noticed everything I noticed and more. It is normal for every other to have a special soft corner for their children… No matter how grown up they are or even when they have their own kids and families.

It was like watching a movie. My mom thought she was standing up for me by stating and exaggerating my tiniest achievements and his mum took care of her baby boy by taking really good care of him….. And me…occasionally because she probably thought it made him happy. The house was always silent and had a very odd feeling about it. My generous mum who loved living her extravagant life was not used to my mum in laws miserly ways. She was practically appalled by the way my MIL  ‘efficiently’ saved money when she dint have to.

basically it has all been pretty stressful with my daughter being the only person to calm us all down. More on that later….




Do’s and don’t’s of introducing your baby to your extended family

The birth of a child is always the most exciting thing to happen in everyone’s lives.  Some times people go a tad  bit over board and that’s when things get really hard.
My little baby girl met her family for the first time last week.  She was showered with love,  affection,  kisses and tonnes  of advice.

I have listed a few a few do’s and don’t’s for all the first timers out there…  Especially if you are visiting your family in india.

1. Always always always make sure your baby is playing with you,  sleeping with you, or dining with you or from you. An unattended perfectly happy satisfied baby is easy target to sloppy kisses and unwanted family feuds. “please make sure you wash your hands before touching my precious angel from heaven who I spent almost 10 months growing and nurturing in my body and almost 3 months dying with out a break so that she gets a decent nights sleep” does not always go well with your uncle who wants to play with the baby by sticking his hand in her mouth. 

2. Always make sure your baby ”s mile stones are well announced.  This doesn’t sound important,  but it was a life saver in my case.  My 3 month old was often compared to my cousins 5 month old and was expected to turnover and hold her head up straight just like him. Only then did I realise that there isnt a lot of difference between 3 and 5 month olds. 

3. There is going to be a lot of advice thrown around regarding your babies sleep patterns,  the reason for their restlessness, how they should be bathed etc etc.  The best thing to do during these times…  Is to remain firm and trust your instincts.  No one knows your baby better than you.  Of you think your baby is getting enough milk and sleep then you are probably right.  I had my aunt try and get my baby to drink some cows milk because she would cry bloody  murder every  hour.  She assumed my baby wasn’t getting enough sleep.  And again my baby was compared to other babies who slept peacefully throughout the racket made by excited relatives. Also it is you who has to decide when the baby starts her solids or if she has enough vitamin d in her body to avoid the sun at 12.00 pm!

4. There is no shame in breast feeding.  I had one of my aunts look totally appalled  when I was nursing my daughter in a closed room because I did not have my ‘dupatta’  over her. I was moderately covered and my baby doesn’t like the idea of a cloth on her face when she feeds.  I politely nodded and took the dupatta away after she left.  Not because I am a ninny and don’t know how to stnd up for my rights.  There is no point having an argument with extended family when you are going to meet them just once a year. You don’t want them to remember you as the one who would not cover her boobs.

There you go…   Four huge points.  This probably summed up my entire trip.  I can’t say the outcome was as satisfying ‘s it should have been.  I left a lot of angry faces and a a very fond memory of my first trip with my daughter.  This whole experience has taught me to be more tolerant towards all the nonsense and protective about her.
Maybe that is a good thing?

-the sparxler

A NEW YEAR… NEW BEGINNINGS>>> well… sort of ;)

A happy new year to everyone!!!!

Hopefully this yer will be better than the last and probably the best one in your lives. lets all take a minute to decide what we want to accomplish in this year… or probably procrastinate and put it of until there are no more days left this year and start this whole cycle all over again.

Welcome to my world….

My life has followed a pattern for the past few years, just when I start getting used to the monotony of things happening around me, a whole new roller-coaster ride begins. It seems like yesterday when I had my first drink and started discovering my self. When I started leaning how to live my life on my terms and now, I have to raise a child who has to learn to do the same.

So right now, I am a mother of  beautiful baby girl, my husband is jobless and we are currently living with his parents. Not that I hate the idea of bunking with them, but things can get pretty tight with my parents and sister dropping in occasionally to meet my baby girl. This brings us to the new questions arising in everyone’s minds…

why am I talking about my hubby’s mom??

I have decided to add a new page/category/ basically a separate set of entries, which will contain posts about my life here, with my second set of parents.

Once again I do not hate my mom in law, nor am I a huge fan of her. But there are certain things which I could do with out. We will get into the details in my future posts.

So that’s what this rant is all about… an introduction  to a new phase of my life. I’m still the same person but in a whole new surrounding, and new challenges.


-The Sparxler

The joy of breastfeeding

It has been a very crazy eventful few months.  I have finally gotten the hang of providing for my baby,  which also means my boobs now know how to handle all the extra fluids they are now miraculously making. Also my bra has come to terms with my new found voluptuousness.

I will admit that it was not easy for me.  My little angel would not latch in the hospital and would have really low blood sugar levels which would in turn result in bottle feeding by the nurses.  When I did ask for another bottle of formula.. Merely to provide my baby with food..  They looked at me horrified. ‘we do no encourage bottles here…  You are producing milk..  She just has to learn to latch’.  The nurse  would then proceed feeding my baby from the bottle fix her hiccups…  Hypocrite !

The next few weeks were spent on Google. 
Why does my daughter nurse for just 2-3 minutes?
Why is she pooping green?
Why does she creak when asleep?
Why is her belly button swollen?

Etc… Etc…

In the end I learnt that no matter what I find online…  Every child is different. But I am glad that I have access to all the information out there.  It also teaches you that no matter what the problem is…  The solution can come from very simple sources.

-The Sparxler

Welcoming Aleyna – Part3 (The Labour)

Hopefully this is the final installment of my birth story unless my daughter decides to have other plans.

Part 1 & Part 2 can be read here and here.


To be honest when I was on my way to the labor room I was really scared. I started thinking about all the possible ways I could and probably would die there. I looked at my dad and mom carefully. I was almost certain I wasn’t going to see them again. Since I was not really in labor I was put on a wheel chair instead of being pushed in those massive beds. My husband was too busy clearing up our mess to even wave. I’d like to assume that he was pretty nervous and scared as well.

Inside the room, I was asked to lie down on this massive bed which was not an easy task especially when you have a gigantic belly blocking everything in your path. Once I was up there the nurse got my IV started and started filling in the papers. She looked at my belly and shook her head ‘You are going to deliver a big baby according to your scans. Your baby must almost be 4 kgs by now and you are short. hmmm….let’s see what happens’. I wanted to strangle her. My mum is barely 5 feet tall and she delivered me at 3.8 kgs vaginally….medicine free.

I suddenly wanted her in the room so bad. The nurses changed shifts anf I was glad that the dreadful one was gone. The new nurse looked at my mum and said ‘so, history of big babies. just push as hard as you can and we will be fine’. I was relived and almost gained my confidence back when a team of doctors came in to check my dilation. By now I was pretty much used to the whole ‘stretch and sweep’ or maybe my nether regions were numb, probably because of the little dignity they had been robbed of by being stared at almost 20 people by now. He shook his head too  while examining me ‘you are 6cm dilated and lets hope for the best. you are having a big baby‘. He instructed the nurse to put me on enema, because apparently I was going to deliver a giant.

Once I was poop free (or I thought I was), another team of doctors came in (the next shift…it was almost midnight by now). I was waiting for the part where they would remind me…. again… that I was having a huge baby. One of them examined my belly ‘its not a big baby, that’s just fat’. for the first time I was glad someone called me fat. I was having a normal sized baby with heavy bones!. They finally broke my waters…. things were suddenly getting real.

I did not want to risk anything, I asked my nurse to start me on an epidural once I reach 8cm. I wanted to feel some pain before going senseless down there. All we had to do now was wait. I kept looking at the monitor trying to figure out the pattern of my contractions. I was third in line for the epidural. *cool*, I thought to myself *Maybe Ill just take a nap now*. By this time I was cramping mildly.*Ha!’ this is going to be a piece  of cake. I don’t know what all the women fuss about*. A nurse from the next room asked me if she  could borrow my anesthesiologist since her patient was in pain and almost 8 cm dilated. I gladly let her have him. I would have let a few more go in line before me at that time.This escalated pretty quickly from there. what started as mild pains progressed to intense. stabbing unbearable pains. The nurse asked me to breathe deeply.

*How on earth is breathing supposed to help with this!!!!*. By then my sheets were soaked and I was very cold. The nurse asked me to use the bathroom if I wanted to while she changed my sheets. I was shivering when I was back. I was scared. the pain was killing me, and I was sobbing. The nurse seemd pretty calm through all of this how ever, my  mum was not. She started praying and was pretty much really quiet after thta.I could read her face, she was scared as well.

Soon the monitors showed that the fetal heart rate was dropping. The nurse raised an alarm and made an announcement on the intercom. I was losing it now. The doctors arrived immediately and started scrubbing. They looked at me and said I was going to deliver now. I had a relatively easy delivery. My munchkin was out within 15 minutes, but it took at least a few hours for me to get used to the fact that she was not in me any more.


And that brings us to this miracle!


I made this!!!


Sleepless nights, sore nipples, diaper rashes and endless google pages. We shall get into the details soon.

Welcoming Aleyna – part 2 (The Induction )

I’m surprised at how fast time seems to fly when you have a little one on your boob at all times.
I should probably get straight to the story since the details are fading away and all the time I have for myself is used to catch up on some sleep. This is the link to part 1.
I got my self admitted on the 11th.  I read almost every article and mommy
stories about the induction process.  So I assumed that it was going to be fairly painful since I read that the body does not cope up with the pain as effectively when done naturally.  The hormones the body produces takes a while to kick in and negate the effect of the hormones that causes contractions which have to be externally administered.
So I spent a good part of the day lying on the bed waiting for some kind of fluids to be pumped into my body to get the action started.  The nurse came in and handed me a gown which got my hopes up really high.  Soon a doctor met with me and explained that he needed to check my dilation. ‘SWEET!  the stretch and sweep!’  I thought to my self.  I was bursting with excitement…  I finally wanted to feel some sort of pain,  just as a sign that the finish line is close.
When he started the procedure I almost died. All he said was that it was going to be uncomfortable. I think the doctors must really work on their vocabulary. He continued to prod for some time in order to stimulate something that would cause contractions.  By this time I was already 4 cm dilated and had seen two women from the neighbouring beds being rushed to the labor  wards.  My nurse came in and asked me if I was pretending to be strong,  because she would send me to the Labour room if I started aching.  My mom was getting impatient. The lady in the next bed started walking in the corridors and developed some serious contractions within an hour.  My mum and my husband got excited and asked me to do the same.  The lady was a trooper,  she continued to walk breathing heavily as her contractions progressed.  they got very intense really quickly and she had to be rushed to the Labour room when her husband was getting a sandwich.
Soon I had my mum and my hubby  pushing me to start walking to get things started.  All it did to me was tire me out and there was no sign of my baby. As I was already 4 cm dilated and chilling,  I wasn’t on the priority  list…. Yet.
We spent the all of 11th really excited and every time the nurse walked in we would look at her with anticipation.  Maybe this is when she’ll take me to get induced. But every nurse would just look at me with sympathy,  and shrug.  The Labour ward was overflowing with pregnant women who were in PAIN. Around 1.00am, when almost all the beds around me were empty,  there was a woman who was screaming her head off.  She was in pain and in a lot of pain. The doctors came in and got her checked and found her only 1cm dilated. That’s why u thought I was blessed to have made it so far pain-free.  Every time she dry heaved I prayed and thanked God even more.
Later that day they checked my dilation again.  This time the Doctor was not  as ‘gentle’  as the last one.  I winced and rejoiced when she told the nurse that I was already 5cm dilated and what was I still doing here.  ‘she came for an induction.. Why are you waiting for her to dilate naturally??’  she barked at the nurse.
Meanwhile on the next bed was screaming and vomited her guts out. It was close…  She had progressed to about 3cm.  It was anyone’s game… Or bed now.  Unfortunately  for me and fortunately for all the nurses she was allowed to move to the Labour room.  I honestly don’t mind it even a little bit…  She was killing the joy and killing the nurses with her swearing.  I understand the pain but there are other women trying to bring new life into the world.
Soon after she left the nurse came back with a broad smile on her face…  We finally got a bed.  My dad was clicking pictures which was very awkward.  I wanted to cry..  I was suddenly  very nervous.
I was finally going to meet my brand new baby girl!

To be cont’d

I tried really hard to avoid as many typos  as I could.  But since I’m typing this on an app in my phone with my baby on my shoulder..  This is probably the best I could write.  Kindly be gentle with the grammar errors I might have made.

-The Sparxler