The ABC of W - Weight, during P - pregnancy and post partum

It goes without saying, that fat and weight are my number 1 enemies. I hate those bastards. But, like they say in good old Indian English style, what to do only, I am like this only.

I am glad to report that I have managed to knock off all of my pregnancy weight!  A LITTLE WHOOP WHOOP FOR ME, PLEASE!

Now, anything else that I manage to do, in terms of my weight, that is, and not my sanity (which, on a separate note, I should add, that I have already lost), will be a plus point. I've knocked off two whole dress sizes. But, I am still fat, if you go by my weight and my height combined together, that bitch of a lethal combination called BMI. ( In my dictionary, that stands for Bite My Innards).

Anyhoo, I've been thinking, my whole life has been about this fat and trying to get rid of it. Not once, can I recall that I've actually managed to sustain that weight loss. It's not because I stuff myself like a pig to bloat back again, but something happens that leads to the weight gain. Sigh... 

Sooooo, to put things down into perspective, here's the ABC of W - Weight, during P - pregnancy and post partum

A -ALMOST

You will manage to lose almost all of your pregnancy weight, one fine day. But that last sticky pound or two refuses to go, and it keeps getting you down. Bloody rascal, that last pound! Or, in my case, 10 kgs of non-pregnancy weight, because I was a fat person to begin with! Can't blame the baby for everything! sigh!

B - BOTHER

One fine day, you will also start to bother about the weight. If you are one of those, who started gymming in less than a month's time post partum, then, good on you! I would probably stay away from such folks, because they make me look lazy! 

C - CLEVER CUTS

They will become your best friends during your struggle with the weight loss, because nobody wants to dress in a tent when you yourself are a tent! Smart silhouettes, stuff that wraps around your jelly belly, those will be on your wishlist and shopping cart on all your shopping apps! TRUST ME! Nothing hides that wobbly fat better than a smartly cut shirt. And, boy, that tummy does wobble a lot in the early days! You will wonder why you still look 5 months pregnant, even though now that the baby is on the outside!

D - DREAMS

You will have two kinds of dreams. One, where you dream of becoming all slim and trim and sexy legs, strutting it like you know it.

Two, in case you have managed to become thin, you will dream of food. Because it takes a good goodbye to food that you gulped down during pregnancy, to knock that weight off!

In my case, please make that dreams of cheese!

ALSO, DIET

This gives me the jeepers creepers!

 

E - ELEPHANT or EXERCISE

Again, only two possibilities. If you knock the fat off, you are the latter. Else, join me in being an elephant, or at least, feeling like one. I don't mean to bruise your ego, but I had days where I really felt like one.

Otherwise, your life will be centered around exercising and maintaining that fabulous shape you've managed to get into! 

F - FAT, WHAT ELSE

Need I say more?

G - GREAT

Great! You've managed to knock off all your pregnancy weight. Now what? The tougher part is to maintain it. How long can we survive on tasteless food that has to be eaten before 7 pm?

Also, GUILT

Guilty about eating what you ain't supposed to. It will kill you!

H - ERMM, HELLO?!

Errm, okay, how did those 2 kgs suddenly show up again?! It's that cheese you ate, hoping that it wouldn't show up! Well, it did! bwhahahah! I hate cheese. I love cheese.

I - IF AT ALL...

...you do manage to stay in shape, firstly, pass me those tips. Secondly, your life will take on a new meaning, because nothing lifts your spirits like good old weight loss. The sun will shine brighter, the days will be more beautiful, you will generally be a happy person. Give yourself a hug! Now, go clean that poopy diaper from the poopy bum of your little miss sunshine!

J - JEALOUS

I am officially jealous of you. And all those fellow mommies who've got their figures back. I love my body and what a glorious thing it did by giving birth, but man, IT'S A SHIPWRECK!

K - KICK THAT WEIGHT

Honestly, it's all about how your mind takes to weight loss. No matter how hard we kick and squat in the gym, it's what on your plate that counts. It feels amazing when so many people ask me what I did, I feel so humbled. But, I do tell them I do have another 10 to knock off. More importantly, I have had to really train my mind about what to eat. And, that is one emotional journey, to say no to food that you could die for.

L - LOVE

Somewhere, during all this time, you will probably also manage to love the new you. You will happily embrace it, because you aren't so short sighted like I am. I have  my own issues to deal with, so I'll happily take that short sighted perspective and continue with my life. Good on you, though!

M - MANAGE

How do you manage to take out the time to exercise, that's the question. With the constant feeding, peeing, pooping, the sleepless nights and days. The last thing you want to do is take out your planner and figure out that at 18 hours you will go for a walk. The reality is, in all probability, your baby will wake up from his nap at 1759 and start howling just when you were about to tip toe out the door! Bye bye walk, have fun without me!

N - NONETHELESS...

...life will go on even though you are still fat. Your baby will grow up too quickly, you would have joined back office too quickly. Weight loss will come and go, but those precious moments with your little cherubs make it all worth the jelly belly and the big fat thighs!

O - OOPS!

You ate after 7pm yesterday. Or ate too much! Or, ate dessert yesterday. And the day before! You naughty momma!

P - PIZZA

Ahhh, the love of my life, my BFF! How do I say no to thee? How do I offend your love for me and send you packing out of my life? Does adding a lot of veggies on you justify the lust? Thin base is better? Whole wheat, then? sigh... no? 

 

Q - QUESTION 

Am I too fat? Am I fat? Am I fatter than her? What about her? Surely, I am not THAT FAT?! C'MON! BE HONEST! I won't say anything, I promise. Yes, we can have sex tonight. Now, be a buttercup, and tell me, how fat am I, on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the fattest I cam be?

DID YOU JUST SAY 11? ELEVEN? E-L-E-V-E-N?! WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?! *&^#(#$)($*@_$@&!!#

I AM GOING TO MY MOTHER'S AND I WILL SEE YOU ONLY WHEN I FEEL LIKE LOOKING AT YOUR FACE! 

Have fun tonight!

R - RESISTANCE POWER

The mind is a strange thing. I look at stuff I am not supposed to eat and I keep telling myself, NOOOO NOOOO NOOOO, OKAY? JUST PLAIN NO!

After a few seconds: What's one bite going to do? I will eat like those models, you know, just taste it and spit it right out!!!

A few more seconds, and post one bite: OH MY GOD! I COULD CRY! WHAT HAVE I BEEN DOING TO MYSELF, SAYING NO TO YUMMY FOOD?!

NONONO, I MUST NOT. NO

THEN: It's just another bite! Surely, 2 bites won't add to my ass!

BEFORE I KNOW IT: What did I just do?! I ate the whole damn thing! God will curse me, my trainer will curse me, my conscience will curse me! You are a horrible looking fat woman who should die! Sigh...

S - SEXY MOMMA!

That's right! We can be sexy even with the weight! Round is a shape and we are in shape. So what if that shape comes in XXL size and 40DD lingerie?!

T - TOO TIGHT

Your clothes, that is. Pre pregnancy won't fit. Maternity ones make you look like a tent. New ones are too expensive to buy! Plus, you will get back in shape pronto! So why waste money on new clothes?!

U - UNDERMINE

Don't undermine the power of exercise, the size of your dinner and the resistance power and metabolism of that fellow mommy next door!

She did it because she exercised, ate too little and before 7 pm, and knew when to say no to food and what kinds to say no to.

V - VOLUPTUOUS

Refer 'L' - The new you will be voluptuous, of course! Pregnancy does make one a little wobbly and it expands your body structure, those bones and those muscles. Think of it as a free renovation you underwent. Because it's free, you obviously don't like it!

W - WEIGHT, OF COURSE

'NUFF SAID!

X - X-RAY

Weird X-ray reports will spook you, like mine did. Mine showed deposits of fat on certain organs. Apparently, it's okay at a certain level, but to me, it spelt death. Like I said, SPOOOOOOKY!

Y - YES, YOU CAN!

It is possible. It certainly is. Some find it really easy, others like me, really struggle. But, it can be done. Maybe the last 2 kgs will never go, but you have a baby to show for it. It's not that bad!

Z - ZEAL

It takes zeal, I tell ya! To hit the gym/track/pool, whatever regime you've got yourself going there, everyday. It's tough. Some days, you are tired! Heck, most days, you will be tired! You have a baby to take care of. And those cuddle monsters aren't easy to handle. You will probably have a yoga session without even realising it!

The silly things that make a mom...

Only a mom can know the true beauty of doing mom-like things and saying mom-like sentences.

Some things, only mom are capable of doing, and these things perfectly describe motherhood and its experiences in few short words.

As a new mom, I find myself doing and saying lots of crazy things, which were "below" my creative level earlier. But, having said that, I find myself a lot happier when I do stupid things with little P now, than having done award-winning creative stuff earlier, which never made me content.

Like, drinking milk from a glass and "making" a white moustache for yourself, just so you can entice your toddler enough to drain his glass of milk.

Or pretending to feed the truck in his toy bag, just so that he follows suit and ends up feeding himself in the process.

These silly tasks are so fulfilling, yet so silly, that you wonder what made you "look down" upon them earlier. Because, nothing beats the smile on that face once you have created a perfect moustache on yourself.

As a self-confessed cheese addict, I am finding it hard now to not have any because of the weight-loss "program" I am on. I have to buy it, because I give it to little P as an additional source of calcium and fat. And, so, it gives me the jeepers creepers to see it lying in my fridge, but not having nay of it!

You know you are a mom when the cheese addict in you sees a packet full of cheese slices and pretend not to have seen it, because you bought it only for your toddler, and there's no way you are claiming it to be yours.

The weight loss program also means, I have to go easy on a lot of foods I was earlier allowing myself to eat. This includes leftovers of little P's breakfast, lunch and dinner, which, thankfully, weren't too much!

You know you are a mom when your toddler spits out a morsel and you quickly put it in your mouth, because you don't want him to eat food off the floor. But then, dammit! you are reminded of the diet, and baam! it's too late for you to spit out that absolutely mouth watering stuffed bread you made with lots of ghee! SIGH!

You know you are a mom when you open your bag at the grocery store to look for money, and lay down the following things on the counter: A PLASTIC COW, RATTLE, A HALF-BROKEN RUBIC'S CUBE, A DIAPER, A PRETEND PHONE.

And then, EUREKA!!!

NO, NO, NO, not the money. But the ABC board book that has  been missing from so long, you were convinced your toddler ate it!

Sleeping at night, I often wake up because I find myself being poked in the bottom by the horns of a STUPID PLASTIC STAG, that my little P held onto while he fell asleep. GAAH! HORNS IN THE BUM AT 2AM!!!

After having had little P, we have the chance to finally go meet family back in the husband's hometown. Here's the catch: I wasn't so excited about meeting the family after 4 years, than I was about little P being able to see FARM ANIMALS IN THE LIVE!

And, for me to show off my animal sounds skill that I have to little P! WOOHOO! He will finally know that how mommy moos like a cow and brays like a  donkey is actually how a cow and a donkey sound!

You know you are a mom when, on your anniversary, instead of buying sexy, hot lingerie online, you find yourself buying ugly granny pants because your toddler found the hole in your old ones and poked enough for it to become like a crater on bloody Mars!

As a mom, it's also okay to walk around the house, pretending that you are learning how to strut it like a super model, when you have a green-coloured plastic bowl atop your head and you are shaking your booty at the same time! I AM SEXY AND I KNOW IT!!!

I am also a typical mom, when I snooze for 5 minutes in the afternoon, holding TIGHTLY ONTO MY TODDLER, because he refuses to sleep and insists on playing. And, so, I pray like crazy that he doesn't get up and feel very guilty if I do manage to get 5 minutes of rest.

And, don't even get me started on kind of words and sentences I find myself saying these days. It's a good thing, because, one, I am so strict about any cuss words and slang language.

The bad, or rather, funny part, is that I find myself saying things I never thought anyone did. For example, it's perfectly normal now for me to say, " DON'T LICK THAT POWDER OFF YOUR FOOT!"

or

"Don't you put your finger in my belly button, or dad's!"

"DO NOT GO AND POM POM GRAMPA'S BOTTOM EVERY TIME HE BENDS DOWN!"

The last one has me dying LOL, but I have to set limits, and so, I find myself occasionally screaming those words out!

I also know I am just a normal mom, when I try and recall the lyrics to "wheels on the bus" at 2 am when I go to the loo!

Or when, I come across some suspicious-looking brown stuff on the floor, and touch it to figure out if it's a piece of fruit, OR POOP!!!

I know for a fact, that when I walk into the doctor's with kajal/kohl in just one eye, she's not judging me. Or laughing at me.

Or if she points to the rice in my hair. That's okay too. I am just being a mom.

As a mom, it's my job to care.

I once read this somewhere and it so beautifully described motherhood in such a small sentence. It read:

Being a mom is knowing what it's like to have your heart walk outside of your body for the rest of your life.

It's so excruciatingly honest, it hurts!

That's what it feels like, having your heart outside of you, when your baby takes his first steps, and falls. That's heartbreak, not when your boyfriend doesn't call. That pain doesn't even come close to the pain you feel when "something" happens to the little being that was inside of you for so long, and is now out, and is so happy in his new-found freedom.

Being a mom isn't easy. Not in the I-haven't-brushed-my-teeth-or-hair in-days kind of hardship, but the hardship and difficulty in accepting that things are going to happen to your child, things that will be out of your control. That's the difficult part.

I don't care about the knotty hair and the yellow teeth and the age-old PJs and the stinking-of-milk lingerie. NO

I care about what happens to my child when he is out of my earshot and eyesight.

Here are a few things that make motherhood difficult and bother the first time new mom in me. Maybe I will be less finicky next around, if there ever will be a next time! Maybe, I won't! I don't know,

But, right now, in this moment, I do care what happens to him. It's my job to care, and it will be my job till the time he can grow up to defend himself. Till then, I am his voice, I am his strength, I am his will power, and I am his protector.

1) It bothers me that if, for reasons out of my control, I am unable to give him food, he doesn't eat well. He doesn't even eat half the amount that he eats when I feed him.

And, I am not even a forceful YOU HAVE TO EAT kind of mom! If he turns his face away, I back off. But, I do innovate in my style of getting him to eat his usual quantity.

Whether it is getting him to sit in his booster seat and pretend feed the seat itself, or sit atop the kitchen table top and play with pots and pans and feed them. Or even stand in the open balcony and pretend feed all the crows and the cars around us; I do put in time and effort.

2) It bothers me that he "doesn't allow"anybody else to pop his diaper on. Yes, he is a toddler and we do our hands full with him, but, it's his "job" to monkey around and putting a diaper on is an obstacle in his monkey business. And, so, he runs away from it, and I run behind him, Up and down the house, once. SOMETIMES TWICE.

Sometimes, I end up popping it on while he's standing, because that's how he will allow me to do so. But, I don't give in or blame him for being a toddler.

3) It bothers me that when I am out of earshot, he gets scolded. It really rattles me. In fact, it shakes me to inexplicable anger.

4) Similarly, it really really bothers me when this is done in the name of "teaching him".

5) Even more so, when, in the name of "love" he gets smacked on his bottom. I am sorry, that's my child you are laying YOUR HANDS ON.

No matter what, I will not accept it. There can be no reason for it. Not happening.

6) It is even more worrying when he walks around with a dirt bottom at times, despite him being "cleaned" because he ran away from the task.

7) It's not cool to tell me what to do with my own child. I don't need your lessons on how to oil his hair and when to oil his hair. I want to do it my way, learn it my way as we go along and make mistakes, yet, get up and shrug it off, and walk off.

I might not know what I am doing, and I am fine with it. I know when he needs a bath, or when he doesn't. In the same way, I know when to put him to sleep, and I will definitely not be waking him up just because you think I should.

He will wake up of his own accord and that's fine be me.

8) It bothers me that you sometimes pretend that he's your child and you can do whatever the heck you can with him.

I am sorry, was it you who gave your womb on rent for nine months and your boobs for 15 months and counting? No, right? So, back off and let me mommy him.

SERIOUSLY?! I MEAN, SERIOUSLY?!

Confessions of a lazy mom!

I was never a lazy person. NEVER. N.E.V.E.R.

I am a Type A personality,a go-getter, an achiever.

I used to be up as soon as the damn alarm would go off. 7 am meant exactly that, 7 am, not 7.05 am.

And, then, motherhood happened, Little P came along and all the alarms of the world could now unite and ring at the same time, but I doubt I would wake up. I am that sleep deprived!

I don't know when the night ends and morning takes over, when day 1 turns into 3, and when Monday is suddenly Friday!

The only date I remember is the 23rd, because that's the date little P was born, and I remember Thursdays, because, correctomundo, it was a Thursday.

So, every week, like clock work, I know how many weeks old he is and every month, I remember the 23rd from those many months and weeks ago with a warm smile on my face.

Everything else is hazy, it comes and goes in fast motion and I wonder where time went.

Is it 11 am already?!

What?! It's 9 pm?! Where did the rest of the day go?

All day, I run, my big bums and me, behind the little toddler monster that little P is. Behind closets, and doors, and on patios, and terrace pedestals. He runs and I manage to run. I do all this running, yet, I think I am lazy.

Here's why:

1) I am too lazy to wake up and make my own bed tea. I just can't, especially after having 4-5 wake ups every night, the thought of making MY OWN BED TEA makes me shed tears. Real tears, and not the ones that little P sheds when I go to the loo!

2) I am too lazy to have a leisurely bath. It's always a quick 2 minute shower, unless I have to shampoo my butt-long tresses, when it's probably 10 minutes.

Okay, fine. even that is usually over in 5 minutes.

But, that's ONLY because the bathroom is constantly banged the crap out of by little P, who thinks that there's a secret tunnel inside the WC, from I can escape, to a land where I can brush my hair every day.

3) I am too lazy to upgrade (in style) and downgrade (in size) my lingerie. I just won't, even though it's just a click away. Uhuh, not happening!

4) I am too lazy to heat my own food, if it's not been heated before I sit down to eat. So, I just happily eat cold dal and my special COMPLEX CARBOHYDRATE roti, which I stuff down my throat, because I need to lose another 15 kgs.

5) AAH, THE WEIGHT! I am too lazy to buy new clothes, even though I have lost 15 kgs. And, that's most of my pregnancy weight. The rest is because I am a fat person, and weight loss would do me a world of good.

I refuse to buy them online, because the size I have to look for is quite depressing, and there are horrible options for that size.

I refuse to set foot into a store, because I am too lazy to try those new clothes, because, HEY! nothing would fit!

6) Everyday, I promise myself, that today, I will not let washed clothes pile up, and I will promptly fold them and put them where they belong.

But, the damn pile has wings! It grows every day! Does it not know that I am lazy?! That, I have the intention to clean it, but I keep pushing it, till it grows to a mile high and I feel like crying!

7) My PJs are crying, because, hey, they need to be trashed and I need new ones, but aaha, I am too lazy! And they are too comfy!

8) I am so lazy, and so hungry when I wake up in the mornings, that most of the time, I end up eating without giving my pearly yellows (not whites!) a good brush.

Yup, that's me. I hate brushing my teeth. Actually, come to think of it, I hate brushing, period! (hair included)

9) I am too lazy to dress up every day and go out and get some fresh air. I do go out every day, not for myself, but for little P. But, I always go back to my favorite track pants and a tee that make me look slim!

10) The house needs to be looked after, the spiders are calling me from their new homes on my walls. But, I get so exhausted after a day full of running, that I think spiders might just end up becoming a new addition to the family now!

Oh, yes, I am lazy. Little P will agree!

Is garlic better than guilt?

The thing with guilt is: IT'S A BLOODY BITCH!!!

As I see it, guilt is like a giant, enormous and invisible spider on your back. It's huge, but because it is invisible, only you can feel the burden of its weight and everybody else around you wonders why it's bothering you!

For sure as hell, they can't see it, so they don't know what it's like to feel guilty about something.

Today is an apt day to write about guilt, because today, I feel guilty.

Yes, I indeed chomped away on a pizza, but that's not what's killing me on the inside.

I did something awful, but I shall munch on that guilt myself.

Going back to the past...

This guilt was at work then as well. Breastfeeding was turning out to be a nightmare. Nobody at my place understood what I was going through. They probably thought I was selfish for trying again and again to get little P to feed from me, get him all worked up, and then give up and feed him formula!

Might as well have given it to him in the first place, dumbass!!!

And then...

The doorbell rang...

My saviour had arrived!!! And no, no pizza this time!

It was the breast pump I had ordered! Woohoo! Hello, watermelons, whatcha gonna do now, eh?!

So, off I went, on a date with the pump. Now, this breast pump is the UNSEXIEST THING ever invented for those ladies.

Not even the largest, ugliest maternity bra comes close to this ugly monster which goes grrr grrr when you put it on to you! It's a horror show, alright!

Any hoo... This wasn't a workable solution. Firstly, my milk was quickly drying up because nothing can possibly suckle and remove milk from a breast the way a baby can. Do not underestimate the power of a baby's suckle!

Moreover, it would take me ages to get tiny amounts of milk and the whole process was so damn frustrating.

I was losing trust in my own body and its ability to take care of something that it had created. I mean, what good a mother was I, who couldn't feed her own baby.

The pediatrician's words had killed me. I was ready to die. I was ready to do anything.

At times like these, the mother-in-law sure has some ideas up her sleeve.

When I said anything, I meant anything except garlic. I seriously hate those bastards! And guess who knew that...?! ;)

Sure enough, a lovely concoction was prepared. This was no concoction, it was the juice of a million garlic pods crushed to death and fed to me, so I could die. The husband pinched my nose and almost sat on top of me, lest I kick him you-know-where. And the MIL, ah bless her! She poured a GLASS FULL OF GARLIC JUICE down my throat!!!

Frankly speaking, I don't know what worked. My pigheadedness, the stupid effing garlic "concoction" or just God's will, but one day, I randomly decided to pop little P on, and VOILA!!!

Guess what, he happily guzzled away!

Hooray! Just like that, my worries all faded as he fed...

And fed...

And fed...

And fed...

And then some more...

World Wrestling Federation, Tamil-Bengali style!

So, after the ridiculously fat me and my even fatter body parts had been stuffed into the horror film lingerie, it was time to say good bye to the hospital and the amazingly helpful nurses and the doctor.

This was an extremely emotional moment, especially for me. Roughly 8.5 months ago, I was laid in the next room, upside down, not knowing whether the baby would survive and come out a happy, healthy and screaming little monster.

And yet, here we were, ready to take him home, all wrapped up, warm and squishy, some what doughnut like!

The car journey was quite uneventful. Just like any new and first time parents, we informed the driver to not go beyond 40kmph, and I think, everytime he managed to get his foot on the pedal, we were quick enough to admonish him!

And everytime the warm January sun hit little P's face, both of us would quickly cover his face, lest he get tanned, or his eyes get damaged, or worst, IF HE WOKE UP!!!

We reached home, and the events that would unfold would lay the foundation for the Civil Unrest that was to follow at our place for the next one month.

War was soon going to be declared between Tamil Nadu and West Bengal, and we had no idea!

All through the pregnancy, the MIL was away, taking care of the other grand kids, and my mother dear took care of me. Now that MIL was here, ehm ehm... those who are married, or better, watch TV soaps, would know what follows when these two women are pitted against each other.

This is basically a gentler version of the World Wrestling Federation, but without the push up bras and oily bodies. Also, it ain't physical, much to voyeurs' dismay! ;)

Any how...

We were first greeted by two bulls, sorry, women, running towards us, a bit like the Spanish San Fermin, or rather the running of the bulls!

A version closer to home is the running of the bulls in Madurai, Tamil Nadu, with matadors in sexy lungis, or veshtis, whichever you prefer. But the men are definitely more handsome!

MIL somehow managed to reach us first (BOOOO! WEST BENGAL!!!) and greeted us Tamil style, of course, turmeric and vermillion and the whole shebang. Very good, we thought!

Runner Up Bengal to follow...

We were greeted, yet again, sans turmeric and vermillion, but edible oil, not ON US, but around the door frame. SAD SHOW, WEST BENGAL! BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!

The husband and I exchanged some glances. Now, those of who you are married, happily or not, doesn't matter, will know the power of these glances that spouses exchange.

When photographers say, 'A picture speaks a thousand words', they have no idea how many words are silently spoken when a husband and wife share these looks.

The best part is, these glances are open to interpretation! ;)

What we actually "said" was:

Him: Whoop whoop! Amma won!

Solemnly, do you think what I think?

Me: Mom LOST, because I TOLD HER TO BACK OFF, OKAY?! We Bengalis are way smarter and quicker than you Tamilians! Huh! To challenge the descendants of Rabindranath Tagore and Satyajit Ray?!

Solemnly, yes, I too think what you think.

Him: So, basically, for the next one month, till my mom is here, idlis (fermented rice cakes) are going to be  pitted against macch bhaat (fish curry and rice), from morning to midnight?!

Me (to myself): We Bengalis and our maach bhaat ARE SO GOING TO DROWN THOSE SILLY IDLIS! BWAHAHAHAHA!!!

Honey, I shrunk your underwear!

The moment arrived, the big one we had all been waiting for!

Little P was fast asleep and big P was waiting for me to get dressed, while a cab and FIL waited for all of us to pick up our bums and move.

I was quite smug about the fact that now that I had finally given birth, the weight was just going to drop off like the price of mangoes in monsoon, and whoom and boom! I would magically fit into my old clothes now that there would be no bump.

I picked up the lingerie and IT WOULDN'T FIT!!!

It was as if it was 3 sizes too small! WHAT THE FISH?! Not the absolutely unsexy bra, nor the horrendous granny pants! $%^*())&^#@@

The cabbie was honking, the FIL was muttering something in Tamil and the husband was being patient, maybe because he didn't want to mess with the fresh dose of post partum hormones I had warned him about!

I had no idea what to do. I was angry, I was close to tears. I had ordered a maternity/feeding bra somewhere in my last trimester and I was, honestly speaking, very embarrassed when I was placing the order online.

The whole online world and everybody at the lingerie e-store would know my Pamela Anderson bra size! But, I had no choice. I was in desperate need of new (read bigger) ones!

How was I to know that even the biggest size of my life would now suddenly be 3 sizes too small?!

And the sooper dooper big granny pants, the stuff that sexual nightmares are made of, those had shrunk too!

They HAD SHRUNK! Because, I possibly couldn't have become bigger now that the baby was on the outside!

As the honks and muttering grew, I had no option, but to stuff "myself" into the top. At one point, I thought I would suffocate to death, I was that tight!

The underwear?! Gaaah! That's another story!

When you live in a joint family, the older and elder members of the family know a thing or two about what in India is known as "jugaad". That is, an ad-hoc and impromptu solution, that borders on the ridiculous at times!

So, to cut a long story short, I basically just ripped the elastic off the granny chuds as much as I could, and, VOILA!!! There it was, a bigger version of the stupidly disappointing granny pants!

Aaah, those thunder thighs had some new friends, a la old-wine-in-new-bottle kind of friends!