My Feeding Journey with eM

Throughout my pregnancy, I was told to expect a small baby. I'm 5'3 when I stand up really straight, and generally weigh around 50kgs, so I certainly understand that being on the smaller side doesn't mean being unhealthy. Still, to realize that in theory is one thing. To give birth to an underweight baby is another. 

Those words '2nd percentile' felt like a personal failure. I wondered if I should have eaten more protein, or iron, or less sugar, or... the list was endless. It didn't help that I was told to compulsorily feed eM every 2 hours till she reached at least the 5th percentile for weight. She was a foodie from the start and we'd no trouble latching her on, but the problem was keeping that teeny tiny fellow awake long enough to eat. I'd set an alarm, and call in reinforcements to prod her and tickle her as I  tried to coax her awake. All the while, I felt ridiculous, and desperately wanted to just go back to bed myself. My journals from that time contain incoherent rambles, I was exhausted to the point of sleepwalking.

I understand these were exceptional circumstances and maybe eM wouldn't have gained weight normally without that extra effort. That said, ever since her weight increased to a medically acceptable limit, I've let her decide when and how much she wants to eat. Some times she slept through the night, other times she ATE through the night. If I'd watched the clock rather than my baby, I may not have offered enough at growth spurts, or obsessed when she didn't eat. But as it was, frankly, I let her decide and didn't think twice about it. Common sense showed me she was energetic and engaged when awake, and the monthly health checks reassured me that she was, in fact, gaining weight consistently when left to her own devices. By the end of the first month, she'd climbed to the 50th percentile for weight (isn't breastmilk awesome?!). This gave me the confidence to trust her instincts when it comes to food.

So I took the same approach to introducing solids - my job as a parent is to offer healthy food at regular intervals, roughly every 2-3 hours. Deciding what and how much to eat is up to her. Some days she eats as much as me, other days she does upvas bhojan 😂 But no matter what, she decides, and I don't keep tabs. Since she's always eaten the same food we do, there's no wastage, or tension from looking at all of 'her' food left over. We eat together, and I focus on my plate rather than hers. After all, whether at 2 years old or 30, we each know our own bodies and appetites best. Baby led weaning, as this approach is called, is also a matter of convenience. It's usually just the two of us at home... and though I may not get to sleep when the baby sleeps, I definitely prefer to eat when she eats! This style of weaning gave me back some time, while providing my toddler with some much-appreciated independence. 

At 6 months, she was handling all her finger food well. By a year, she was making a bit of a mess but essentially able to get daal rice and so on into her mouth. All this while she had no teeth, haha. Even so, she managed to eat everything we did, albeit without salt, chilli and honey. She thoroughly enjoyed Sri Lanka, where we went for her birthday - string hoppers were a favourite dish! Over time, she's travelled around the world discovering local foods with as much enthusiasm as her mother. 

I've never considered hiding or disguising her food in any way. She's told what's available; and she can either eat it or not. There are no convenient treats available to bribe her with if she decides she doesn't want to eat something. After all, she doesn't eat to please me; she eats to fill her stomach. Which means that when she's hungry, she'll come and ask for food herself. Yes, that food may be curd or a fruit rather than a full meal. But that's her choice, and I leave it up to her. After all, haven't we as adults skipped a meal because something just didn't feel appetizing? We make up for it later, and so does she. Her health checks continue to reassure me that she knows perfectly well how much food she needs to grow.

By now, at 2.5 years, she can be trusted to sit wherever we're sitting, and eat off whatever plate is given to her, without more than the occasional splatter onto her clothes, if that. Here she is, all dressed up in a tutu skirt, eating off a banana leaf like everyone else did at a family get together this weekend 😁

If you're interested in learning more about baby led weaning, I highly recommend joining the Facebook group Baby-Led Weaning India. If you weaned your baby traditionally and want support as you transition to letting them feed independently, do check out Traditional Weaning India.  The admins of both groups are very helpful, and the groups have a wealth of resources available. 

Last 30 Days of Being 30: Goal One

It's the final day/prompt for #9DaysofWomanhood which I've been celebrating with 24 other bloggers! I've had a blast playing along, reading others' takes on the prompts, and, most importantly, finding new blogs to follow. This has been my first blogging challenge, and I couldn't have asked for a better one.

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  #MyLittleMuffin #TheMomSagas #Mummasaurus #TheReadingMomster

That said, today's prompt had me stumped from the first time I read it. 'Describe a woman in your life who is like a goddess, from any faith.' I tried reading my co-host, Uttara's blog for ideas. I checked out Anubhuti's blog for her own unique take. (Btw, if you haven't read their posts yet, do head over!)

Yet, if I thought about describing my mom or daughter or friends as goddesses, it made me snort with laughter. Anything I wrote sounded waaaay over the top and filmy. I guess it doesn't help that the goddesses in most religions are absolutely flawless, and the women I love are their perfectly imperfect lovable selves.

Source: Vector Toons

And then, right as I was falling asleep, one woman's face came to mind. It's a face I've seen a lot of lately, and it instantly evokes Goddess Kali. If you've seen her, or experienced her energy, I’m sure you feel the same way. But let me backtrack and start at the beginning.

This week initiated the last 30 days of my being 30 years old. It’s been a good year, filled with tons of little indulgences, from heavy desserts to cheesy delights. I’m a foodie, and I make no apologies for it. I’ll never diet, but even so, this year has been a particularly lazy one. Especially since eM now walks and cleans up after herself, I haven’t exactly had any exercise at all. I figured I’d end year 30 on a high and do the only workout I’ve ever managed to commit to – Jillian Michaels’ 30 Day Shred.

The Shred is 25 minutes of alternating strength, cardio, and abs, in 3 difficulty levels, over a month. All it needs are a couple of dumbbells (ahem – not including this exerciser, who sometimes feels like a dumb belle herself when doing push ups). It's perfect for people like me who get bored easily. The time's jam packed with constantly changing routines; there's no time to think in between the instructor counting you down, and shouting you on.

… And so we come to the instructor, Jai Ma Kali, Jillian Michaels maiyya. She is in frighteningly good shape, especially given she’s way older than me (she's 43, whaaat? Does the woman in the image there look 43?!). People who’ve attempted the Shred can tell you she’s rough, tough, and allows no excuses. She’s exactly whom you’d want on a battlefield, either fighting your side, or pushing you on.

When you watch her do her bicycle/reverse crunches, it honestly feels like she has 4 arms or 10 arms, as compared to my 2 paltry chicken wings. Her motivational quotes on not quitting and not giving up invoke the image of Kali in rage. If she were holding up a head instead of a dumbbell, it would be mine. The woman is a sheer force of nature, and she urges me into becoming one too!

Behind the formidable exterior and the constant shouting, though, lies an angel of mercy – Kali is the destroyer of evil forces, and Jillian Michaels destroys fat. Take it from me. I’ve done the Shred once or twice a year for the last few years, mostly when I felt I needed an energy boost after a lot of sedentary desk time. Depending on your fitness level, you’ll sweat a river, pant like a dog, and have your legs turned to jelly; either on day one or on day twenty one. But at some point, your muscles will scream for mercy – and, like Michaels mata says, that’s when change happens. That’s how you destroy evil fat cells and get. back. into. form!

                                                                                                                                         

In all seriousness, I was in perfect health right after I delivered eM, and ate decently + walked with her a couple of times a day till she turned one. I put on 16kgs while pregnant, all of which was baby and fluid, so it came off in a month (I exercised throughout pregnancy and soon after). But when eM started walking, I... stopped. Then she started doing even more by herself, which left me doing even less. Lately I've been feeling sluggish and in need of some exercise. So, of course, hello Shred!

The short duration, easy adaptations, and lack of special equipment make it very mom friendly (though I suggest consulting an expert the first couple of times you do it). I'm sure it aids in weight loss or loss of inches, but for me, the biggest benefit is that it ensures I drink more water and feel full-on #JaiMaKali myself! It's a pick-me-up I highly recommend to those wanting a slight kick.

The Longest Year, Wrapped In a Quilt Made of Memories

The first year of eM's life truly drove home that cliche about the days being long but the years being short. That year, my god, it had the longest days I've ever encountered. I watched the clock constantly, feverishly, hysterically. I literally counted down the days till she'd hold her own head up, start eating solids, and just... stop *needing* me so much. I rolled through most of it on auto pilot. They say you forget the pain of delivery once you've had the baby. I say you just as easily forget those initial hellish weeks - when days blend into nights, and it feels like life will never be normal again. 

For this reason, I'm doubly glad that I journal-ed it all, uncensored. I think that if eM chooses to have a baby, she deserves the full unvarnished truth about just how bloody hard it can be. That's the story that the adorable pictures on Instagram don't tell. I don't want her thinking I was a great mother based on my easy delivery story or my choosing to breastfeed or whatever else. It's easy to look at the the advice I gave others on babywearing/diapering/baby books, and think I had it all figured out. The truth is, I floundered through that first year, and it caught me entirely by surprise. As I mentioned before, I haven't yet decided if I'll share the journal I wrote offline for eM on the blog - I'm too aware of an audience reading this.

Instead, for now, I'm sharing the other side of the coin - glimpses of the first year of parenting, in a retrospective nutshell. It's a lot easier to share, and no less true. That's the thing about parenting, and especially that first year - the highs are high, the lows are low, and there's almost no in-between where you can just catch your breath and get used to it all. It's really only once it passes that you realize - oh. That kind of had its amazing moments. And man, we made some awesome memories!

I won a giveaway hosted by Cookiie Pie Co a while ago, and my prize was a memory quilt made by Love Keepsake. I'd already donated many of eM's clothes, and used others in a quiet book I made her. Fortunately, there were a handful of special clothes I'd kept aside, and these were the ones I passed on to Love Keepsake to make into a quilt. My quilt is still in the mail, but here's a preview I got from the mompreneur who made it. This brings back so many memories:

The base - a purple fleece, was the one eM was first wrapped in. It was my very first pre-baby gift from the girls I was supposed to meet for bandi dosas on the night when eM was born! The base was reinforced with a blanket from a former work colleague, whom I bumped into again when we both attended a prenatal yoga class. We quit the yoga, and have shared many a sinful dessert together since instead! Here's to making new friends and rediscovering the old. There's nothing like having a baby to redefine your relationships. Nearly every friend I made or reconnected with in that first year gifted eM something which made it on to the memory quilt.

Then there's the kurta I had eM in because there was no time to change into a hospital gown. And the hospital gown she was first put in, an impossibly tiny shirt which was still way too big for our low birth weight baby. The first baby clothes she was gifted, which I put her in with trembling butter fingers, convinced I was going to break her.

There's the Carter's newborn sized onesie I tempted fate with and bought before she was born. I took pictures of her in that onesie every single month until she turned one (it went from being an oversize onesie to a too-short crop top, but that thing stretched for all it was worth!) As she grew older, there, too are her first pattu pavadai from her perimma. The dress she wore the first time we attempted a dinner date out, also the one she wore when she first stood up (and promptly plonked back down on her bottom, looking very pleased with herself). Her first pair of soft-soled Skips, which she barely wore, preferring to go barefoot. The outfit my uncle gifted her, which she wore for her first flight journey to meet A's grandparents. 

There's even the dress that someone sold me with a very obvious tear in it and refused to take back - a reminder of how mom dynamics sometimes work. And, on the other hand, the surprise first birthday shirt another mom I barely knew made for eM just because. Ah, moms. Mom friends, mom frenemies, mom rivalries. They're a topic for a whole other post, if not a novel.

Milestones, relationships, battles, victories. Every single square inch of that memory quilt has a story to tell, if not several. It is, in its own way, just as effective a journal as the one I wrote eM. I can't wait for the quilt to arrive so I can start telling her about the first year of her life.

PS: This quilt retails for 1500 + GST + shipping, if you're interested. Prices may vary depending on the size and materials you provide.

**

This post is part of #9daysofwomanhood which 24 other bloggers + I are celebrating throughout Navratri. You may have come here via my co-host Uttara's post introducing me, do stop by her blog if you haven't yet. Also check out Anubhuti's take over on her blog.

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Of Deliveries and Dosas

I, along with 24 other bloggers are celebrating #9daysofwomanhood throughout Navratri. I've never felt more fierce than during my labour, so this is an apt story with which to celebrate womanhood. Thanks for setting the stage for me Uttara - I loved your blog sharing your experience!

***

The gynac and I both stared at the machine monitoring my contractions. I'd come in for my regular 40th week check-up, and she'd suggested I check.

"You really don't feel that?" she asked.

"I feel... something," I said. Mostly the need for chocolate and a long walk, but the machine told me I was supposed to be in pain. 

"You're in early labour, and the contractions are pretty intense. If you're not in pain, I guess..." she trailed off. "Maybe you could come back later. Be prepared for the baby to come soon."

Uh, no. By now I'd realized that my doctor was the kind who preferred to be safe than sorry. She'd been saying the baby could come any day now for the last few weeks - thanks to my blood sugar being high and the baby's weight being low. But I'd continued to do my yoga, eat well, and hope for the best... and here we were at week 40. So you can excuse my taking her proclamation that I was going to have a baby soon with a pinch of salt. 

The next two days flew by as usual. I walked 2km twice a day, shopped a lot, and cooked + cleaned up the kitchen after myself. My mom tried to remind me that I was technically in labour, but I couldn't feel much more than standard PMS. After I wiped down the kitchen on the night of Feb 7, I SMS'ed my friends to make sure we were going bandi-hopping the next day. Hyderabad is famous for its street vendors who sell dosas from 2am onwards. By 5am, they're sold out. For some reason, I hadn't made it to a bandi yet, and I was itching to go visit one before I had the baby. 

"Just hold off for one more day," I told my belly. My due date was February 8, but I really wanted a Valentine's baby. I was hoping I could be like most other first time moms, who typically have their babies later than the due date. 

I switched from reading a good book to reading a horrible V.C.Andrews trash novel. It was outrageously bad, but I didn't have the mind space to read anything better. And I couldn't not read - that's how I put myself to sleep. For some reason, I was having more trouble concentrating than usual. When the husband came home at around 10:30pm, I was still struggling to make sense of the plot (in my defense, that plot makes NO sense.)

"Are you having contractions?" he asked. My mom had tipped him off that I'd cut my evening walk short by a little bit.

"No, I just need to poop. I'm going to Govind's bandi tomorrow morning, ok?" I said.

I shifted to the loo, but (excuse the TMI), I just felt massively constipated. I tried to figure out my book again, but couldn't. 

"Should we go to the hospital?" the husband asked.

"This is nothing!" I said, convinced by all the movies I'd seen and the reading I'd done that the pain would be a whole lot worse. "They'll send us back home. We can't go until the contractions get much closer. I'll go eat my bandi dosas tomorrow, and then we'll go to the hospital later."

(Yes, priorities, dosas over deliveries).

Pic courtesy machax.com

I downloaded a contraction timer anyway and tried to time them. They made no sense at all. They came close together and lasted a long while, then they spaced themselves out a bit, and lasted for a shorter duration. I was convinced they'd go away if I could only use the loo. Either way, they could certainly wait until 7am, by which time I could have eaten that dosa I'd been longing for.

"Is it paining?" the husband asked again, at around 3am, when he woke up to find me still on the loo.

"No! I just want to sleep!" I said, trying to figure out what the hell my book was saying. Little did I know I wasn't going to sleep though the night again for the next two and a half years (and bloody counting).

At around 4:15am, I realized I wasn't going to get my bandi dosa after all. I figured I was going to be that woman who went to the hospital and was told to go back home because this pain was nothing. Still, I figured I may as well go, mostly because I wasn't able to sleep anyway, and my husband was starting to get annoyed at my denial of any pain. The Uber driver was petrified I was going to have the baby in his cab, and sped through the nearly deserted roads. In retrospect, I'm lucky I didn't have the baby in our loo. We barely made it to the hospital. A duty nurse inspected me casually... all my research about long first-time labours and contraction intervals made me so sure I wasn't experiencing the real thing, I was quite calm. To my surprise, she said, "Don't move! I'm calling the doctor."

My gynac made it over in ten minutes flat, despite it being a Sunday. Next thing I knew, the room was full of people, and they said I was going to have a baby very soon. I figured they were exaggerating to make me feel good about myself, I was still sort of embarrassed that I'd come all the way to the hospital before I was in 'labour proper.' I asked if I could please use the loo, and the doctor said no, because what I was feeling wasn't poop, it was the baby. That's probably when I realized this was actually happening. The next five minutes were a blur. My waters were burst with a shepherd's hook, and the baby came out in record time. So fast, in fact, that I had to have an episiotomy so that I wouldn't tear brutally. Honestly, those episiotomy stitches hurt more than the labour. My doctor kept telling me not to tense up, and reminding me that I'd barely felt labour. There's no comparison, this was so much worse! I was tempted to ask for an epidural. 

Somewhere in there, I managed to ask if it was a boy or a girl. I'd won the birth lottery of my dreams, it was a girl! I can't get over how lucky I felt in that moment; to have not just a healthy baby with an unfussy delivery, but also a girl. It's everything I'd ever wanted. There were tears from my gynac, who couldn't believe how quickly it all went. Yeah, me neither. A few minutes later, I was blissfully feeding my daughter, and that's how I became a mom. Bang on my expected due date, with irregular contractions and no water bursting. Sometimes all the reading you do doesn't prepare you; you get to be the lucky exception to every first-time-labour rule. 

Oh, and I'm still waiting to go bandi hopping (or get a full night's sleep!) a good two years later :D If you've a labour story to share, I'd love to hear it! You can check out my co-blogger Anubhuti's story for today here. 

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That Time I Found Out I Was Pregnant

Back when I was writing about my pregnancy and eM's first year of life, I wanted to be anonymous. I kept it all offline. Now I'm considering moving those entries to the blog so it's all in one place. Maybe I will, maybe I won't... but for now, it gives me immense pleasure to share a bit about my pregnancy as part of #9daysofwomanhood. I, along with 24 other bloggers are celebrating this theme throughout Navratri. Thanks for setting the stage for me Uttara - I loved your blog on the prompt for today - 'My Pregnancy'. 

**

The day I discovered I was pregnant was the same day my husband had put down his papers at the high-paying job where we'd met. We were both out of jobs, and were moving away from a country where the government practically pays you to have a baby. We were moving, instead, to a country where our insurance hadn't yet kicked in and we'd have to foot a hospital bill of lakhs for the delivery. You can't blame people for wondering if we'd planned the baby at all :D

Let me set the record straight - we'd been not not trying for a while. In layman's terms that amounts to wanting a baby, but not necessarily thinking we'd have one right away. The odds weren't exactly in our favour. I'd been travelling solo through Europe for a while, and I met  the husband in London after a couple of months apart. Next thing I knew, I was downing three helpings of sticky toffee pudding (I'm not a desserts person), and not feeling remotely motion sick, which is my default mode when I'm travelling. While I felt great, it didn't occur to me that I could be pregnant till AFTER I'd drunk my way through Scotland's whiskies. Oops. 

It first occurred to me that I could be pregnant when we were in New York on a cruise my travel company had sponsored. It killed me to lay off the wine, but I'm glad I did! My period usually comes like clockwork, so I figured I'd wait till I'd missed it to take a pregnancy test (why waste money and optimism, amIright?). I waited till I was two weeks overdue and then picked a cheapie test because I still couldn't quite believe I'd get lucky enough to actually be pregnant. 

I didn't even have to wait very long, the test said I was unequivocally pregnant. I called my family doctor up for an appointment straight away and then waited patiently for the husband to come home. His face was priceless, especially since he'd just finished telling me jubilantly about quitting his job. "Should I take back my resignation? Is this test real?! Are you sure?!!!"

... So yes, the timing wasn't perfect. But when is it ever? Having a baby turns your world upside down at the best of times. 

We went ahead and travelled extensively through Canada for the next few months, as we'd planned. We didn't even tell our parents the news till we came back to India, because we knew their idea of a sensible first trimester doesn't include climbing up glaciers. And I wouldn't change a thing about that madcap first couple of trimesters, when I felt healthy, happy, and like I could conquer the world.

What's your pregnancy story? You can check out my co-blogger Anubhuti's take on the prompt for today here. 

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Being a Woman in India, 2017

It brings me immense pleasure to share that I, along with 24 other bloggers are celebrating #9daysofwomanhood throughout Navratri. I thank Uttara for introducing me. I loved her blog on the prompt for today - 'Being a Woman in India, 2017'. I would take the opportunity to introduce Anubhuti. You can check out her take on the prompt for today here. Meanwhile, here's my view. 

**

 My day starts at 5:30, when I snooze my alarm while trying to quell my internal sense of alarm too. Once I get out of bed, my day is non-stop. There are dabbas to be packed, toddlers to be bathed, and school bags to be organised. When the preschooler's out the door, I have to head to my own driving class, then make it back to a growing pile of work deadlines. If I focus, I'll finish with five minutes to spare before I've to go back to school and pick up the toddler. This is what life looks like when you try to juggle motherhood with a career. And psst: I wouldn't have it any other way.

Every single thing I do makes me happy. If it didn't, I'd find someone else to do it. And on the days when I don't want to do something - I don't. There are days when I order in food, or let the house stay a mess. There are days when I push work to the next day, and days when I go back to bed while the husband gets our daughter ready. Through it all, what stands out is this: I make my own choices, and I feel supported by my family.

 Did someone say women could have it all? I'm living proof. Yes, a certain  kind of Indian woman in 2017 can have it all - the career, the home, the  one:one time with kids. But you know what the best part is? The fact that  we now have the ability to say thanks, but I don't really want it all. I'd  rather choose the things that make me happy, and not bother too much  about the rest.

 

I believe I can fly :)

I have friends who chose not to get married, rather than rushing into a wedding to placate filial expectations. I have friends who are happily married, and choose not to have kids, because they simply don't want them. I know moms who proudly go to work. I know moms who proudly stay at home with their children. Compare this with the previous generation, who found these choices impossible to make. I know elder women stuck in unhappy marriages out of habit. All of them have at least one child, if not two. If they're stay at home moms, they insist on doing everything themselves. If they're career women, they still put pressure on themselves to do it all too. I feel exhausted just thinking about it.

I've to confess: it took me a long time to get to this point. No matter how much of a feminist I am in theory, to come out and say that you're going to hand over the reins of the kitchen to a cook, or go back to bed because being a mom is bloody tiring sometimes - well, it feels sacrilegious. I won't lie, I still battle with the guilt of what an Indian woman is 'supposed' to be and 'supposed' to do. But being truly happy helps put that guilt in perspective.

I'm not idealistic enough to suppose that this is true for all women in India. The truth is, most Indian women live in a very different reality - one filled with judgment, patriarchy, and unrealistic expectations. We live in an unsafe country where being a woman is about the worst thing you can be. And yet, as the times change, step by step, I can't help but feel hopeful about what being an Indian woman will look like by 2027. Here's to empowering each other, and respecting each other's choices. If we don't, who will?

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Cloth Diaper Review: CDS FAP 3.0

How long has it been since I wrote here? I don't even want to check the time stamp of my last post and see for sure. I'd say I'll blog more frequently now, but the truth is, I still don't have the bandwidth to. Ironically, what's taking up the little free time I have is writing for other businesses. Oh well, as long as words are getting put out there somewhere, somehow! That said, I just had to come here and put a virtual timestamp on one of my life's 'firsts'.

This weekend, I went out of my comfort zone and made my first ever vlog. It's strange, for someone who has no problem addressing crowds, I get very self conscious in front of a camera. I can barely manage a selfie without wanting to clobber my phone, so a video was.... ambitious, to say the least.

Good thing I'm talking about something I'm so passionate about that I can almost, almost, forget there's a camera on me. Here's a cloth diaper review (what else? I'm still a mom, my interests are somewhat limited!).

Not just saying it for the review, that diaper really is gorgeous, and was reason enough to convince me to do a vlog in the first place! Find it, and other diapers, at http://www.clothdiapershop.in/. Apart from gushing about the diapers themselves, I can guarantee professional, friendly customer service; a payment gateway that works; and a generally pleasant online shopping experience.

Anmol vs. Cookiie SSC: First Impressions

eM and I went to Tirupati this weekend to meet her great-grandparents and extended family. We just got back, to a huge backlog of freelance work. Both when we're in new places, as well as when she senses deadlines looming, eM insists on being carried. Nonstop. Thank god for babywearing - it preserves my sanity, and my back. 

My first baby carrier was from Mee Mee. Let me tell you since Mee Mee won't - it isn't stringently tested, and it's not at all ergonomic. I know a lot of non-parents read this blog, so feel free to skip this post, after this one important takeaway: most commercially sold Indian carriers aren't good for your baby's hips, and aren't as safe as they should be. A couple of mompreneurs recently launched soft structure carriers (SSC's) which are the first Indian-made, internationally tested, ergonomic carriers in the market. Both are similarly priced, completely reliable, and utterly beautiful. I couldn't pick between them, so I just bought one of each. And since I've been getting questions about which one I prefer, I thought I'd do a quick comparison. This is just based on about a week's usage, it's very much just first impressions. I'm still learning about the features.

Purchasing

Anmol sells SSC's via a closed Facebook group. Sales happen on a first-come first-served basis, and it's a feeding frenzy. Each of their releases contains several designs (10-15), but very few pieces are made of each type. This is because they're semi, or completely, hand-woven. Cookiie only releases 4-6 designs in each sale, but they seem to have more pieces of each type available. They also accept pre-bookings through their website. I'm not sure which brand has the most SSC's per release overall, but I've definitely observed that it's easier to land a Cookiie than an Anmol so far. Anmol's launching a website soon, so that may very well change.

Delivery

Cookiie delivers via DTDC, and helpfully sent over a tracking ID. The package from Mumbai arrived in Hyderabad in four days, and attractively highlighted the benefits of babywearing. Less reflux, less fussing; and my favourite, which is also their tagline: you get to 'wear a hug'. Cookiie SSC's come with a clearly illustrated instruction booklet, and a one-year warranty against manufacturing defects.

Anmol sends their SSC's through Mirakle Couriers, an agency employing low-income deaf adults. It also arrived in four days, and my favourite thing about the packaging was that it required no scissors or knives to open up. The SSC was very neatly packed, with a simple photo-guide of instructions, and a handwritten note. The box has a great diagram of the SSC's parts, which I confess I missed seeing because I was too excited about the SSC itself!

Size

The specs indicate Cookiie is less than a centimeter taller than Anmol, and about 3 cm wider. When I place them one on top of the other, you can see there's practically no difference. In fact, I'd have suspected Anmol was wider because of the way it's cut - the thick paneling on the sides goes a bit higher and wider than Cookiie's. eM seems to have a bit more space in the Anmol, though she doesn't really need it at the moment. On the other hand, Cookiie's waist band is a bit wider, which is great for hiding post-baby belly bulges (or cheese paunches, as in my case). Cookiie's SSC also comes with a handy minifier that can cinch the seat by up to 5 inches, making it convenient for smaller or thinner babies.

Both carriers have easily adjustable straps. They may be the exact same straps for all I know, but I find Anmol's easier to adjust on the go. Cookiie's are a bit more rigid. This may also be because Anmol is more generous with extra strap material, so there's more material available to loosen/tighten. My husband will vehemently deny it, but we have pretty similar body frames. But if I were sharing my SSC with someone with a very different body type, especially a bulkier one, Anmol may make it more easy.

The Cookiie fits babies from 5-22kgs, while Anmol seats 7-22kgs. While Cookiie's brochure emphasizes it's not to be used for babies below this threshold, Anmol provides a rolled blanket/pillow hack that allows their SSC to be used by even newborns. Both brands have toddler variations that can be used by bigger babies.

Other Features

Apart from being in a cool colour, Cookiie's hood has drawstrings on the sides making it easier to tighten and tie + look great with ruffled edges when not in use. It's also stowed with snaps while Anmol's is secured with velcro. Coming to the chest strap, Anmol's is placed at bra-hook level, while Cookiie's is a bit higher, and adjustable.

And finally the pocket - Cookiie's is placed at the middle of the waist strap, and is wide enough to accommodate a mobile phone, credit card, and keys. Anmol's is placed at the left of the waist strap, and won't fit a phone. This is probably a good thing, as it keeps phones away from the baby, but it's less convenient. Being a right-hander, I also find the placement slightly awkward, especially since it's near/partly under the baby's leg. That said, I only do front carries at the moment. When I do a back carry, Anmol's pocket will likely be the more convenient one.

Aesthetics

The Cookiie comes in super cool graphic prints - stars, chevrons, block prints, ikats. The waist band has a different pattern, and the hood is usually a sharp contrasting colour, which makes the whole thing look stunning when used. Most Anmols are semi or completely hand woven by local weavers, and the wefts of cotton skilfully showcase several colours. The material's OKO tex certified, and is yarn dyed, AZO free. What this basically means is it's completely baby friendly and won't bleed into their skin. It also looks gorgeous, especially in natural light. Each brand definitely has a distinctive style, but I think both look fantastic.

There you have it, the differences I've spotted after a few days' use of each. This isn't a review of either, because I haven't used them long enough. I genuinely don't have a preference yet, and I also want to emphasize that what eventually works for me given mine & my baby's body types + how we use it won't necessarily be the right choice for you. This is also only applicable for the carriers that were sold in the latest release. Both brands are constantly modifying and improving their products.

I highly recommend trying out any babywearing gear before you buy it. If you're in Hyderabad, check out our sling library, where you can easily try on and rent carriers. (Full disclosure: I'm a co-founder of the library, but I don't make any money from it, or from any of these vendors).

From Maggi to Udon Noodle Soup

I always thought I'd marry someone who cooked. It turns out the only thing more attractive than a man who cooks... is a man who doesn't cook, but attempts it for you anyway. Over the last five years, A's cooked for me exactly two times. Ready-to-cook cake, and a ready-to-cook mac and cheese, as he's always quick to point out. But, no sarcasm, I still think it's really sweet. This week, after binge-watching Masterchef Australia and hearing me talk about the idiot-proofness of Built2Cook, he volunteered to make dinner. I figured it was an interesting opportunity to stress-test the product... would someone who'd only ever made Maggi noodles be able to pull off an Udon noodle soup? :)

eM and I took our seats in the Rao kitchen and settled down to watch. First off, I should mention that I was very impressed with Built2Cook's ability to take feedback & refine their product. I'd just mentioned an oil spill in last week's box, and this week saw the oil in a different type of container! Everything continued to be neatly labelled and packed. I'm a fan of consistency, especially from startups, so this is very promising. As A set up his kitchen, he asked if I had a strainer, a vital utensil for this dish. I do, but as I'm rating Built2Cook from the perspective of the average bachelor who doesn't cook - it may be worth noting if a recipe needs 'special' equipment like a strainer or a grinder that such kitchens may not have. They do mention it in the recipe, but it'd be good to have it mentioned upfront to avoid disappointment.

Inspired by the advice on MC Aus, A decided to 'keep his bench clean'. He opened everything, carefully re-sticking the labels for each ingredient onto the containers as he went along... he didn't want to risk grabbing the dark soy rather than the light soy, or the aromat in place of the tempura crumble. Thanks to his meticulousness, we noticed a couple of minor discrepancies. The recipe said to garnish with leeks & broccoli; but the ingredients list only mentioned leeks, and the box itself had neither. This wasn't a big deal though, as the box was chock-full of other lovely fresh veg - carrots, spinach, asparagus, yellow & red bell peppers, mushrooms. We certainly didn't miss the leeks & broccoli. It was a beautiful display of chiffonade, which made the finished dish look “exactly like the picture on the flyer!” as A said.

 

An added advantage is that it's impossible for each vegetable not to get cooked properly as they're all cut so evenly. If I had to nitpick I'd cook the asparagus slightly before throwing in the rest, as it remained slightly bitey, but mostly, it's foolproof... and so healthy, given it’s all blanched! A ate everything except one asparagus without complaint. So I definitely recommend making this with/for kids who may be picky about their vegetables otherwise.

We were also impressed with the ingredients for the curried broth. When I cook Oriental from scratch, I invariably skip things like aromat, or replace the castor sugar with white. I just can't be bothered stocking a full Oriental kitchen for the few times that I cook it. With Built2Cook, there's no such compromise because you have everything you need, in the proportions that you need. A was hesitant at first, asking if he could really just use exactly what was given without tasting along the way. In the interest of checking idiot-proofness, I told him to go for it, leaving out just the salt. The resulting broth was a thing of beauty. As A put it, "I feel so proud of making something taste like that, even though I didn't actually do anything." Hint, hint: if trying to get to someone's heart through their stomach, this is bound to impress!

The broth and vegetables are perfectly balanced, and the whole thing has a complex flavour profile which you wouldn't think came from just four basic steps. It probably took A about ten minutes to cook - 8 more than Maggi; but 10,000 times more healthy; and, frankly, just as moreish. I'd be happy to drink mugfuls of that every day. I wasn't this impressed with thetacos since their taste depended on my ability to season. This, on the other hand, was gorgeous enough to inspire poetry - the crunch of the tempura crumble against the freshness of the spring onions, while the veg stayed firm but tender in that rich broth... I hope they keep a Japanese dish on their menu at all times, because the chef absolutely nailed this one! 

I think the only advice I'd give non-cooks who try Built2Cook is to follow the recipes verbatim except for the amount of oil & salt to be used. With a non-stick kadai, we used about 1/3^rd the oil provided, and none of the salt. It was lovely to sit around doing nothing while A whipped up a beautiful meal. I could see his confidence growing as he cooked, and the dish's resounding success has him rearing to try something else soon!

Mexican Fiesta with Built2Cook

When my mum was learning to drive, she told me I was the best person to practice with because I wouldn't rush her, get tensed, or pass judgment. I translated that to mean I was her favourite person to try new things with! And so this Mother's Day, I offered my foodie-mum a choice of cuisines she'd never eaten before, and promised we'd explore one together. I'd make some stuff, she could make some with me, and we'd buy the rest. If she didn't like anything, she could ditch it, no questions asked. 

I was thrilled when she picked Mexican. I've ranted about this before, but Hyderabad has no decent - read, authentic - Mexican food. None. If I want it, I know I should just make it. This was the perfect excuse. Last year this time I was in Mexico, so this gave me an opportunity to get nostalgic! I'd also been itching to try a new food start-up, Built2Cook, which delivers pre-prepped ingredients for international recipes. They had tacos on their menu, with sides of salsa and guacamole, all for Rs.250. Bring it on! 

I like their website. Ingredients, portion size, and cooking time are clearly noted - and the ingredients include things like salt and oil, so you could literally have an empty larder and still cook up a meal. I also like their pictorial step-by-step recipes... given the people who order off Built2Cook are likely unfamiliar with the cuisine or even cooking in general, it's especially helpful. I wish they had 3 course options - right now, tacos were the only Mexican thing on their menu, so we had to look elsewhere for our other courses. I'd love to see a burrito up there.

The taco recipe came with a disclaimer that tacos are a diverse breed, and every person has their own recipe for the filling. I couldn't agree more. I wanted to tweak mine a bit, so I ran out to the local grocery store to buy a few things. While I was there, I did a quick cost comparison - 3 tacos would be Rs.60, the veggies would cost another Rs.120 (thanks, avocados!), sour cream + cheese would easily tally another Rs.200. That's assuming you don't bother with refried beans. Even without factoring in the opportunity cost of time spent prepping all that stuff, there's no doubt that Built2Cook saves you a lot of money. And assuming this is a one-off and you don't cook Mexican (or whatever else) all the time, you won't be stuck with a whole lot of, say, sour cream, that you'll never get around to using. 

I got home and was surprised to find they'd already delivered my box at 6pm. I'd specifically asked for 7pm, and I couldn't help thinking that on a weekday, they took a real gamble by deciding to show up an hour early. It's 46 degrees out in Hyderabad, so it's not even like they could have left the fresh-prepped ingredients with the watchman. My mum also told me that they didn't have change for Rs.100. I personally think if a startup only offers cash on delivery, its dishes are all priced at Rs.250, and they do their own delivery, they should definitely give their delivery people a stack of 50's. Alternatively, just charge either Rs.200 (similar start-ups in Bangalore often charge Rs.150 on average); or go big, maybe add a lime soda for people to drink as they cook, and round off the bill to Rs.300. It's the small things that make the difference. 

But we were excited with what we got - an enticing looking package reminiscent of Masterchef's Mystery Boxes, and a flyer with the pictorial recipe & ingredients list. My mum promptly pocketed the flyer for future reference, it's a keeper! We opened the box to find 4 compartments, with the ingredients for each component of the dish segregated neatly. Just in case anything got mixed up in transit, each packet or cup of ingredients was also labelled with the name of the ingredient, and the dish it was to be used for; eg: tomato (guacamole), tomato (salsa). Very nicely done. The olive oil and sour cream had both leaked, so some things were a tad messier than I'd have liked... but this was purely an optical problem - none of it got onto any of the other ingredients, and they'd packed a little extra of the basics such as salt and oil anyway. The latter's a bit of a double-edged sword, I guess, because with everything neatly portioned out, a newbie cook may be tempted to just add all the salt or all the oil... ouch. Maybe the recipe should specify how much of the seasoning to use, or say season to taste.

I loved the convenience of having all my stuff pre-prepped, it's like having a handy sous chef. As I said, I made a few tweaks to make it more like the Mexican I'm familiar with. In case you buy the same box and aren't too familiar with the cuisine, here's what I did:

- I kept aside the water chestnuts & babycorn to make a Thai curry with some other time, as I'd never had them in a taco before.

- Since it's not prime tomato weather, but it is mango season, I changed the tomato salsa to a mango salsa. Yum-my. Plus, it gave us more salsa.

- I bought some extra tortilla chips to go with the salsa & guacamole, and grated some more cheese to top them with. 

- When avocado oxidizes, it quickly turns darker. So to preserve the colour and enhance the taste, it's recommended to add a squeeze of lime juice. You also want to mash it up a bit, so it tastes buttery.

- I also shredded the lettuce and coriander more finely, but that's subjective - I've a picky-eater husband so I tend to over-mince and make it hard for him to take out anything!

I made us some virgin mojitos to sip on as we cooked, and ordered a bunch of other stuff we could eat along with our tacos, chips, guac and salsa. I put on a movie, mum sampled everything, and we had the perfect, relaxed evening. She discovered she really likes guac & mango salsa, and said she'd try them again soon!

All in all, Built2Cook helped create some of those memories that money can't buy. It looks very promising, and I can't wait to order another box for a date-night in with A! Now if only they had a Thai green curry, or an Austrian spatzle....

(Usual disclaimer: this isn't a paid review, just me spreading the joy for anyone else who may be interested).

Rant: Digital Marketing Faux Pas

I'm angry about a lot of stuff this week, none of which I can do much about. So to divert myself, here are the top ten digital marketing trends that make me wonder about companies' hiring standards, or lack thereof.

- Clickbait headlines are bad enough, but clickbait headlines with poor grammar? If I wanted that, I'd just read one of Chetan Bhagat's 'novels'.

- Ads which call out a specific product or price point, then direct you to the homepage. It's like being sent to the grocery store when you place your order at a restaurant.

- When the word 'only' is suffixed to outrageous price points. Rs.900 only for a dupatta? No, please, take a kidney too, it's only fair.

- Completely irrelevant jumping on the bandwagon. B2B businesses that wish people on, say, Father's Day, just because B2C businesses are. Happy Veteran's Day to you, too.

- Hashtag hashtags. Learn how they work before you use them, please. #korangukailapoomaalai #TamizhLols

- 'Mobile sites' that are basically desktop sites with text in font size 5 and awkward image alignment. I wouldn't mind if your company wasn't touted to be a 'cutting-edge' 'tech start-up'. (Aren't they all?)

- Asking for all my details, including location, several times; then emailing me a bunch of offers that are only valid in other regions. Is this some bizarre tie-up with a relocation company that I don't know of?

- Giving away freebies to bloggers who started their blogs purely to receive freebies. I've no idea which restaurant is actually worth eating at anymore. Or which blog is actually worth reading, for that matter.

- No opt-out clauses. Dear big e-comm company, I'd probably not have used your biggest rival as much if you didn't try bullying me into downloading your mobile app all the time. 

-  Remarketing that never stops. Twelve months into seeing the same pregnancy ad, I wonder how long they think the human gestation cycle lasts. You'd think a maternity clinic would know the answer, eh?

Raising an easy baby

We're fast approaching the end of the 4th trimester. It's been going great. When people ask, that's what I usually say - great, or fun, or amazing. I say eM's a chilled out baby, or that she's easy. They ask if she sleeps 'through the night,' and I respond that she's doing really well; she sleeps all that she can be expected to. I'm asked if she cries a lot, and I say: she's a happy baby, it's easy to comfort her. And given I say it with a wide smile, and am clearly relaxed, they all agree she's the best baby there ever was. I wholeheartedly agree with that summation!

But here's the thing: I don't objectively think she's any easier or more difficult than the average baby. What she is, is a baby. Her brain & body are constantly developing. Expecting her to actually sleep or smile through all those changes, especially when she doesn't have the words to understand them, is bizarre.

She adapts as best as she can. Sometimes that means wanting to be held for hours in the middle of the night. Other times, it means celebrating with her as she figures out her legs can splash, or that she has fingers, or whatever else. Either way, the important thing to note here is that she can't help any of it. She's not throwing a fit for lack of anything better to do. She's not at her best behavior just because we have company. You really can't hold her accountable for anything just yet!

I understand people ask these questions as a way to make conversation, but I don't want my child to be called 'good' or 'bad' for the sake of conversation. I get that she can't understand these words just yet, but I just don't see the point of having these convenient judgments repeated. At best, you'll be able to ignore them, because they'll change by the day. At worst, you'll subconsciously start to believe them. Difficult babies seem to be  a matter of perception. It's easier when you acknowledge your baby probably isn't doing anything other babies don't.

I think people also ask you about these details because they want to sympathize with you. But it seems unfair to say that the baby's been awake every hour, on the hour; if I'm not also able to say, "I think it's a growth spurt," or "She's due for a wonder week about now." It's not like the baby has the words to get her point across, after all. When I understand why she's doing what she's doing, it doesn't make the long hours less tiring, but it does let me be the adult in the equation.

I'm not in denial here. She doesn't cry "a lot", however that's defined, because I hate letting her. When that means bouncing her and walking around for four hours, I do that. She sleeps "well", because she only wakes up when she's hungry, and she only stays awake when she can't figure out how to go back to sleep. Again, if that means singing 'Twinkle Twinkle' forty times in a row (with the hand movements!) every two hours, I'll do it. And I'll still say she's sleeping as well as can be expected, and mean it. She's not forming bad habits, she's forming herself. It's impossible to spoil someone by taking care of them when they're confused or need reassurance.

So how do you raise an 'easy' baby? Simply, by being an easy parent. Don't expect anything from the baby just yet. Sure, it's exhausting at times, uplifting at others, and a dazed blur for the most part. But I have a happy baby, and a healthy one. Those are the only labels I'll ever accept for her. Onwards & upwards!

The Birthplace: A (Long Overdue) Review

I've been joke-accused of turning this space into a mommy blog, gasp. Let me just say - I would love to gush about my daughter all. the. time. But this blog's going to stay what it always has been - a place where I compile info & observations on things I'm interested in to (hopefully) save people some time if they're researching the same things. Those things just happen to be baby related at the moment. 

...And, of course, I'll occasionally pontificate or post something random, just because I can :D

I wrote about how we chose to have our baby at The Birthplace, Hyderabad before. So it's only fair to follow up and talk about our experience there - especially given it completely justified our decision to go with them. Through the move back to India, with its associated craziness; then the struggle through the first couple of weeks with a newborn, The Birthplace was always my safe spot, the voice of sanity in all the chaos. 

There was my doctor, Pratibha Narayan, who was excellent - she clearly distinguished my mom's diabetes from my own sugar levels when other doctors would have marked me high-risk by default. At the same time, she kept a close eye on my levels throughout, never hesitating to tell me when something could build into a red flag. All the while, the biggest thing she did for my peace of mind was pointedly tell any relatives who came with me to chill on the superstitious beliefs they had. She distinguished fact from fiction clearly, and thank God for that, because I heard a zillion random theories when I was pregnant. Despite being the primary doctor for what seemed like every person I spoke to at The Birthplace, she always responded to my emails/texts on the same day. Actually, she still does.

That responsiveness and respect for time is true of everyone and everything at The Birthplace. I was never kept waiting for an appointment unless someone else was having an emergency surgery. Yet, I never felt hurried when I had an appointment. Perhaps best of all, any reports that were required were emailed to me within 24/48 hours, and a follow-up phone call was made to talk through the results and what I should do next. The in-house pharmacy always had everything I needed, so they saved me trips to other places. 

Everyone, from the receptionist to the doctors to the cleaning staff, could speak English and/or Hindi. Yes, I've lived in Hyderabad on & off for a few years, and I can understand Telugu; but speaking it takes real focus and that's not something I'd particularly want to do when pregnant/delivering. Being able to talk in languages I'm comfortable with was a huge load off my mind. And it's not just the language prowess that was impressive, it was the communication skills too. Everyone I met had a great personality, was helpful, consistent, and clearly knew their stuff. Plus, they actually seemed to care! I'm always amazed that everyone from the marketing team to the desk staff address me by my name and remember my details. 

And I've mentioned the 4D scans before, but I have to say it again - they're amazing. Being able to lie back comfortably & watch our baby in real time, on a projected HD screen, with my husband, unhurried, while the doctor gushed how cute our chubby baby was, was an incomparable experience that I don't think exists anywhere else (I have had scans in other places and they were great, but this was truly beyond that).

So I was expecting a good experience with the delivery, but I had no idea how good it would be. Let me start by saying I went in at a time that was very convenient for me & my visitors, but not so much for the hospital - about 4:30AM on a Sunday morning. I went in with no notice, and had the baby within half an hour. And yet, between the time that I called to tell them I was coming and the time I got there, I was met by a team of help staff, an on-call doctor, and - when she confirmed I was really having the baby that fast - another on-call doctor, my gynaec, a pediatrician, and yet more support staff. Despite it being a Sunday, and my being the only resident at The Birthplace at the time, all my meals were arranged, any requests were catered to, and I received a visit from the senior pediatrician, Dr Sivaranjani, on the same day.

Despite having no time to read through my birth plan, everything went exactly as I'd have wished, given The Birthplace's philosophy is pretty much the same as mine anyway. I got skin to skin, A got to watch the baby get weighed etc, and we got to feed her straight away. Which brings me to another important thing that I don't think any other hospital in the world has - learning to breastfeed at The Birthplace is amazing. Every single time I fed for the next three days, at least one nurse or doctor was in the room, just standing by to see if they could help. I can't tell you what a difference this makes. I loved just being told that I was doing great, and having the additional hands readily available when the baby and I were both figuring out how to make it all work.

There's a lot going on when you've just had a baby - you need to figure out your after-delivery care, you need to eat more often, drink a lot more water, and figure out what to do with the baby and your husband and all your visitors, all while not being at your physical best. The Birthplace ensured my needs were taken care of, and that I was gently eased into this new normal. From the baby's bath each morning, to mine; from meal & medication reminders, to having a nutritionist, physical therapist, and lactation consultant check in on me, they made sure to think of everything which I may not have had the mindspace to think about myself.

And it's not just hyperbole - if you've to stay more than 2 days (3 if you've had a C-sec) for medical concerns, they don't charge you anything extra. eM looked a little yellow, so we stayed back an extra day & a half to make sure she wasn't jaundiced. We were given just as much attention and care as on the days we paid for. By the last day, we felt we knew everyone on the staff well, and we really, really wanted to tip the nurses who'd taken such good care of us. Without exception, they all refused. Ditto most of the cleaning staff who'd helped so much with baths and recovery. It literally made me choke up. While The Birthplace gets some flack for being pricey and not accepting insurance up-front (so you need to pay and then get refunded), I think it's worth every penny. 

True confession: on day 5 with my new daughter, I was desperately considering how to get myself re-admitted so life could go back to being peaches & roses! No need for such drastic measures, I return frequently to meet our pediatrician, who's every bit as supportive, no-nonsense, and reassuring as my gynaec. It's a weird thing to say about a hospital, but I'm glad my relationship with them will continue.

As always, a disclaimer that this review wasn't paid for (in fact, I paid for the pleasure of reviewing them!) and all opinions are my own. In the interest of full disclosure: I won an upgrade to a luxury suite, as well as a free newborn photo-shoot (which reminds me, I need to go get said newborn photo-shoot before she's no longer 'new') at an event that The Birthplace sponsored. So I got a few extra perks when I stayed there, but I've compared notes with friends and they really are this nice to everyone.