Tag Archives: Papa

In His Papa’s Shoes

In His Papa's Shoes

Bollywood movies have brainwashed us with their concept of Twins, wherein, one would be Evil and other a Saint; or if you will pinch one, other twin will cry. (I so want to try this) 😛

In His Papa's Shoes

I have yet to see this in real world, however; in my life with my two twin sons, what I do see is amazingly beautiful.

In His Papa's Shoes

Both are totally different personalities, in some way, poles apart. Surprisingly, one who have inherited my looks, behaves mostly like his father; and the one who has got his dashing looks from his Papa, is all me from inside.

In His Papa's Shoes

Today, I am writing about Renne; one who has heart and hairs of his father 🙂

In His Papa's Shoes

Every morning, it’s his daily ritual to wake up with his Papa, wait at the door of bathroom, till Papa comes out, all freshen up.

Their onwards Renne’s sole job is to make his Papa ready for office. First he will go to his Papa’s cupboard and pick out a shirt for him. Most of the times it will be the one which his Papa has thrown on the floor after wearing it a day before. 😮

Both father and son will spend nearly an hour in deciding what to wear. Renne will even try to buckle up the belt for his Papa. LOL… that looks so funny, when he tries that.

Papa is hardly ready, when Renne starts running towards his shoe cupboard. He will pick out the black formal shoes (always, I don’t know what’s his fascination with them), and then he will search for the socks. He has to search because his Papa is good in throwing things around. By the time Papa is seated to put on the shoes, Renne is busy finding matching socks. He somehow manages to do so everyday (even I am not able to search them sometimes), and will hand them over one by one to his Papa. One sock at a time, then the shoes.

Papa just have to do one thing on his own – comb his hair, because Renne can not reach there, otherwise he would have done that too. Next he will give lunchbox and tea to his Papa.

What’s left is, giving a goodbye kiss to his Papa, that too he do very diligently. Me, Jealous.:(

In His Papa's Shoes
Renne with Papa

From where did Renne learned all this? Who else, than his Papa himself?

I have seen my hubby, still taking care of his father’s appearance, whenever he is stepping out of home. His shoes are shining or not? Clothes are cleaned and ironed or not? Who washed his car? Which driver is going to drive today? What is his schedule? How much time he will spend in each of his meeting? Phew!!!

In His Papa's Shoes
Papa’s Fav Boy

Sometimes, I used to joke with my hubby, that he looks more like a personal assistant than a son, when it come to his father. He used to say to me (actually, still says), “I can be anything for my Papa. He is everything.

In His Papa's Shoes
Papa’s Baby

Now, my hubby has someone in his life, for whom, He Is Everything. 🙂

First Day Of School

First Day Of School
Tisha’s First Day Of School

Today was Tisha’s first day of School. For me, it was more hectic than any of my days in schools or college.

I have never thought that picking up a school for your little one can be such a tedious task. But, what do I have to worry about when I have a husband who makes his decisions in seconds. So, one day he just told me that he saw a school for Tisha and he liked it, maybe we should opt for it. Only if I have a time saving mind! But, no, I decided to search by myself and talk to all the schools available in my area.

Poor me! I went through all the schools, calling them, talking to them, taking appointments for visit, prioritizing them, rating them. After finishing this whole school finding project, I submitted my research to the one and only, my dearest hubby.

It didn’t go to waste, at least I thought so, until he put the enrollment papers in my hand. Yes, papers of admission for the first school that he has picked up. :@

Not bad.

Bad was, when he told me that Tisha has to start from the very next day. What??

So soon. She is so little. How will I manage all? What clothes she will wear? Her lunch, she will eat there or not? What if she wants to do pee pee, and she was not able to say it in time? Or what if she wants to poop? What if she will miss me there? How will she manage on her own?


All of this was going on in my mind at 4 in the morning. I couldn’t sleep. My hubby too. Both of us were laughing in the morning thinking how miserable we are? What will happen when she will go to college? or her first job? or Marriage?

But, hectic part was just about to begin. Getting her ready for the school.

I picked out the clothes, it just took me 15 minutes to match her shirt to pants. Selected a jacket, her hairband and her shoes. After another 20 minutes, her Papa has made me change her jacket, shoes and hairband too. We did argued on jacket, he wanted white one, I finalized a black one. Dress up done. Lunch packed. Some mentoring done. All done.

She was waving bye byes and blowing kisses, and there we were, crying. Next big challenge was to spend the time waiting. You can never understand what all was going on in my mind, when she was away. Who invented kids? Why do we have to be so worried all the time when we are not with them? Why do we have to worry so much?

Time passed, and she was back all thrilled and excited. Full of energy. She was telling about her big day, with lots of cheers and laughs in between. she was all happy, I was too. Just crying inside, to see my little mermaid all grown up.

Kids, Please don’t grow up so fast. Take your time. Lots of Time.

What My Kids Want From Me?


What My Kids Want From Me?
What My Kids Want From Me?

I was watching “Everybody Loves Raymond” (yeah, I still watch the reruns), lying leisurely on my couch. When abruptly my daughter Tisha declared “Mamma, I want something”. Something as in something to eat.

Boy! There is nothing more terrifying than this ‘something’ word. Something means they are not sure what they want to eat. Off course, they don’t want a proper food food. So you have to go through the whole charades of showing them everything you have, and asking them one by one, if they would like to eat that. Most tiring thing is you will always hear no, till the time you feel like crashing on the floor.

Having no other option I asked –

Me: you want egg?

Tisha: No.

Me: Chicken?

Tisha: No

Me: Biscuits?

Tisha: Noooooo

Thankfully, Otu (My 2 yr old son) came to my rescue.

Otu: Grapes. Mamma, grapes.

Grapes given to them. I came back again to my dearest couch and resumed the show. When….

Otu: Mamma, plate.

So, now they want grapes in separate plates. Given. Few seconds passed, I sat and….

Otu: Mamma, spoon.

Now, who eat grapes with a spoon? Well, looks like my aristocrat son Otu does.

Spoon given.

One minute passed.

 Otu: Mamma, hanky.

 Even when he is eating grapes, that too with a spoon, he somehow managed to get his hands dirty. :O

Wearily, I said “Go ask your Papa. Why didn’t you guys go to him? He is also sitting here. Call him.”

BTW he (my hubby) was also there, just sitting quietly with his laptop, doing nothing. As always. Giving me ‘The Look‘ on hearing his name.

 Otu: (again) No. Mamma, I want hanky.

Given. Sigh….

Me to hubby: Why can’t they ask you for everything and leave me, at least for 5 minutes? Why don’t they come to you?

Hubby: because, you are lucky. 😛

(He meant it sarcastically, believe me.)

I started thinking, was I like that with my mother? I remembered my mom saying to me umpteen times, how I have never let her sit for a moment. How I was always calling her for my every little needs. I didn’t went to my Papa, even when I wanted something from him. I always went to my Mamma first and then she used to take my case forward to Papa. I was not scared of him, he is not at all scary :). It was just that I always believed my Mamma understand what I want much better than anyone else. She was my first person.

Back to my lucky phase, my kids. I realized, how they come to me for their tiniest needs. When they are hurt, or happy, or just showing off. They will scream Mamma, and suddenly it will be the only thing that would matter to them, to get the desired reaction from their Mamma. To see, how she kisses their fake wounds and heal them, or to see how she laughs with them, or admire them each time they learn something new. I realized how much it meant to me, that they are calling me first, and not their Papa or to say anyone else in this whole world. Just me. I am the most valuable parson of their life. I am their first person.

I am lucky. 🙂

And, what do they want from me? Well, Everything.