My Heart Over-floweth...

About a month ago, when the MIM I married was away, WW3 was in progress in my bedroom...both boys were fighting for the middle space, so that I could sleep next to one of them. I said I'd sleep in the middle and then they could both get me. Nah, no good. They were not in a mood to share. Of course I had my way. I pushed them apart, put my pillow in the middle, said "Good night, I love you", switched off the lights and left the room. I took a peek some time later...they were fast asleep, the middle had been kept empty for me...save for their clasped hands across the bed, resting peacefully on mamma's space.

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Mornings in our house, are normally filled with music...at least on holidays. A couple of weeks ago, while one boy was listening to music on the iPod & singing along ('Phantom of the Opera', if you please), the other was singing from a book of Disney lyrics. My heart and eyes were ready to burst!

Aaah! The difference a few days can make! Lately, all they're interested in is listening to the theme 'music' of their favourite WWE wrestlers. Sigh! As if there's not enough noise in my life already!

But then of course, the EO's words this morning acted like a balm on my very frazzled nerves..."Mamma, I want to learn the words of 'Purano Sei Diner Kotha'..." (a famous Rabindrasangeet)

Sigh! I guess I can live a little with 'Veil of Fire', 'Booyaka', Andrew Llloyd Webber and Rabindranth Tagore co-existing peacefully, side by side.

Memory

Memories are powerful mood-stimulants. They can seat you on a beautiful, Persian carpet and take you on a magic carpet ride through the rainbows of your past. Then again, they can dig a hole through worm-infested, smelly mud and bury you under the broken eggshells and rotten tomatoes of past pains, hurts and tears.

Yes. Memory can be a teddy bear. It can also be a bitch.

And music, for me at least, is always a trigger-er of past faces, names and places. Most of my memories are linked to music and triggered by music.

This morning, at MaaJanoni's place and we were listening to a favourite music channel of hers. A Bangladeshi couple was singing popular as well as some unfamiliar Bengali folk songs and songs inspired by old folk tunes.

One song reminded me of happier times in JNU, when I was part of a Bangla Band. I associate this song with a friend of mine, who now happens to be my sister-in-law (the MIM's cousin; yes, she is very much responsible for our nuptials).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zNM71yMwxcw&feature=related

The other song introduced me to an amazing artist. She is a gorgeous person and I am so thrilled to count her as a dear friend now.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BecwNwbgDRA

The songs reminded me of times spent together. The memories made me miss them. The songs and the memories made me grateful to have them in my life.

Today, memory was a teddy bear. A singing, teddy bear, no less.

Music...

My musical memories are many. Many, many, many. In fact, I associate different people and places with songs and melodies, not to mention occasions and events...

Childhood memories overflow with snapshots of DaddyDearest singing The Bro and me to sleep.

Then of course there's MaaJanoni and her lovely voice humming while cooking, or singing while simply staring at the rain outside the window while a powercut provides the perfect backdrop to her soulful renditions of Rabindrasangeet.

There's me studying for my ICSE late at night and into the wee hours of the morning;DaddyDearest's collection of Hindustani instrumental music surrounding me with peace and calm.

My happiest moments in school during my plus 2 revolve around the choir and inter-house music competitions.

My phool shojja.

Bedtime with the EO and YO.

Even my time with DaddyDearest in the hospital.

There are songs, melodies and lyrics that define these moments and so much more in my life.

Whenever I have found myself to be drowning in extreme excesses of emotion, I have noticed that Music has been my constant partner. Whether the depths of pain or the pinnacles of joy, the right notes have always cocooned me perfectly and like a feather I have floated through different worlds and sensations.

It is through Music that I know that I am truly alive.

"The End Is Here"

So are any of you as goose-bumpy with anticipation as I am? Have you booked your tickets? Have you been watching the earlier movies or poring over the books once again so that you go into the darkened theatre ready for the Final Battle?

I'm so excited, I can hardly sit still! There are these bubbles of excitement travelling up and down my throat and I feel tingly all over! I last felt this excited about something when the seventh installment of the book was ready to come out.

My, what a journey it's been. Fourteen years of the books and a decade of the movies. And tonight, I go to bid farewell to the boy wizard who made me wish I was 17 again. Tonight, I prepare to say auf weidersehen to the three musketeers of the wizarding world who made me believe again in magic and fairy tales and friendship ever-lasting.

Is it over? Is it really, really over?

I've been asking myself since the beginning of this week.

And as I sit down with the seventh book once again, to prepare myself for the cinematic spectacle tonight, I see my EO, my seven-year-old boy, settle down next to me with the first book. From the corner of my eye, I watch him get drawn deeper and deeper into the magnificent world created that still holds me enthralled.

And that's when I realise, it's not over. And it never can be. The enchantment will just keep passing from generation to generation.

The Boy Who Lived will live on...

Sweet Sunday Somethings

Of course the Universe will take a big bite out of my giant a**. Of course it will. With pointy, razor-sharp fangs, no less.

Just when I write my last post, something like this happens...

It's a lovely, monsoon morning. The type where the world looks like a faded water-colour and the poet in your soul feels restless. It's a Sunday morning too, so that means the house is over-flowing with the male presence. The MIM decides it's time to rock 'n' roll with the boys and puts on loud music in the bedroom. He mixes it up with the boys' favourites and his. So while our sons go beserk to "Aal Iz Well", they also learn to apprciate the fine nuances of a Guns 'n' Roses composition. The number in question? Well, as the MIM explains to his heirs, "This song is called 'Sweet Child of Mine'...'Mishti Bachcha Aamaar'." I guffaw while sitting in the other room, but of course there's music coursing through my veins by now and I am supporting Axl Rose's vocals with my back-up act, all the while, nose buried deep in a book. After the song, I suddenly hear the sweet voice of that 'sweet child of mine' trying to sing the chorus...in his own tune. I laugh. I call the EO to me and sing it to him so that he can pick up the correct tune. He loves it, throws himself into my arms, sits on my lap and buries his face into my neck as I sing "Oh-oh, sweet child of mine" over and over again. After I finish, he looks up at me and says, "I'm a happysaur!"

Thankfully, my little boy still hasn't outgrown his love for dinosaurs. Thankfully, he still likes to make up stories and words and images, giving vent to his creative, imaginative side. Thankfully, he loves the music his parents love and is inculcating a distinct taste of his own...an eclectic mixture of Rabindrasangeet, Biddha Bar, Bollywood, Disney and Rock.

And most of all, thankfully, my little boy is a little boy yet...definitely 'sweet child of mine.'

Of Music, Old Age and Contests

The Bro is in town! Yaaayyyy! He arrived on the 25th, a little before midnight. So the boys and I are currently at the 'maike'! Bigger 'YAAAYYYYY!!!' Of course the weekend saw us back at the sasuraal because it was the FIL's b'day bash and plus an adorable and gorgeous SIL was in town, but as of today, we's back at the parents'! So allow me to say it again -- yaaaayyyyyyyy!

It was beyond touching to see the way the EO behaved when he saw his Mamu. He woke up to find himself sleeping next to my mom (which he normally looks forward to, but not this Thursday!!) Disappointed at not being next to his Mamu, he shook MaaJanoni awake, reprimanded her for not depositing him next to said beloved Mamu and then proceeded to run to that same beloved Mamu's room and wake him up with little brother in tow. The Bro very sleepily hugged his nephews and then I shushed them out of the room to start off with the business of the daily grind. Two minutes later, my sleepy Bro walks into the room and a very, very, VERY thrilled little EO shrieks with delight and launches himself at his Mamu. The Bro picks him up and my EO hugs him with all his might, refusing to let go, for a full five minutes, until I had to finally pry him off! The EO then proceeded to do a happy dance :-)

The YO didn't behave as enthusiastically, observing the Bro for some time before he decided that he was alright. Hes, the pack of Hot Wheel cars definitely helped!! But I can't really blame my little one, after all 'Mamu' was just a concept to him, someone his big brother, mother and grand-parents spoke about with great love and affection; someone whom he had no memories of at all, being just a year-and-a-half when he was last here. But here's someone who has the good sense to bring him cars and chocolates...what's not to love?

As for me? It's great having him back! We've already had our chats, heart-to-hearts and many conversations. One of the more memorable ones ran thus...
After coming back from a day trip to Shantiniketan with the MIM, MaaJanoni and MY iPod, the Bro, who has always loved my taste in music, says to me, "Dids, good collection...some great music there...but why does everything have to be so slow?"
Me: Slow?!? Have you seen all my playlists?!?
the Bro: Oh yeah, I have...hence the 'slow'. And old.
Me: (sputtering) But it's got the Scorpions, Bon Jovi, some Deep Purple and Guns 'n' Roses on it!!!
the Bro: Yeah...slow. And old!!

That's it. I've done it. I've actually lived long enough for 'The Scorpions' and 'Deep Purple' to be declared slow and old!! And no...I'm not even remotely interested in what's on the Bro's music list!
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I'm a contest junkie. The SMS and online kind. Remember that site that I had asked all of you to visit a while back? Mummyknowsbest.com? Well, the good folks there are back with another great contest...this one's for the bookworms!! Trust me, you'll love it!! Please do go and check it out folks! Go, participate, win!! Click here for deets!
And if you find the time, let the gals there know what you like, don't like and would like to see on their site! :-)

Sometimes, when you're down and out...

...the magic mix of music, chocolate and a chick-flick is all it takes to get the cool breeze to tickle your eye-lashes again.

My week-end recommendations:
Music --
1) ABBA (Thank You for the Music, Slipping Through My Fingers, I Have a Dream)
2) Bryan Adams (Cloud No. 9, Heaven, Summer of '69, Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman?)
3) Bob Marley (Buffalo Soldier, Is This Love)
...all played on a really high volume.

Chick-Flick --
1) Ghosts of Girlfriends Past
2) Confessions of a Shopaholic

Chocolate --
1) What? Are you kidding me? ANY!!

Music to Touch my Soul

Some of my most magical memories involving the EO, the ones that make my heart sing like a songbird, have 'music' as an integral theme.

Now good music can make me oblivious to my surroundings. A haunting melody can have me slowly drowning within its intrinsic beauty, like a marble in molasses. A peppy tune can have my insides dancing to its earthiness and richness of rhythm. And songs with deep meaning and soul-wrenching lyrics are my undoing. They unravel me, slowly, sensuously, pain-stakingly, like a single silk thread from a heavy Kanjeevaram saree.

That is why, it is one of my greatest joys to watch the EO develop a taste and fine ear for music. It thrills me no end when he listens to some of my favourite tunes, entranced, enraptured, engaged.

I remember how one day, I was listening to one of my most favourite songs, 'Slipping Through My Fingers' (originally by ABBA, but I was listening to the 'Mamma Mia' version). I was lying down on my bed, my eyes closed, silently mouthing the words, feeling the feeling and floating away somewhere else. I suddenly felt a presence next to me and I opened my eyes to see my EO lying down next to me, not looking at me, his eyes telling me that he was drowning deep in the song as well. I watched his angelic face as he took it all in. What was his understanding of this song that seemed to echo my soul's thoughts about watching my babies grow up? Did he feel the intense maternal love dripping from the song? Could he connect it in any way to how I felt about him? And then, when the song finished playing, he looked at me and said, "Mamma, please play the song again." I happily did so...again and again.

I adore Rabindrasangeet. It is one type of music that can define me. The EO has discovered the beauty of a particular favourite of mine, 'Aaj Jyotsna Raate'. Maa-Janoni was singing it to him one day while telling him a story and he fell for it like a ton of bricks. And now that he knows that I know it too, I have to sing it for him on demand. As a result, he's picked up most of the song.

It really is a gorgeous feeling to listen to him sing when he thinks that no one is listening. I stop whatever it is I'm doing and drink in the sight, sound and sensation. For me, the bliss of these musical moments is akin to religious ecstasy.

That's because a perfect musical moment always and unfailingly helps me remember the Divine. And to watch my son take part in this type of worship is no less than exhilarating.
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Of course, no musical memory is complete without its set of funnies.

So while on the one hand I have a son who is trying earnestly to perfect, "Aaj jyotsna raate, shobai gechchey bon-ey. Bosonter-ei maataal shomiron-ey..."

On the other hand, I have another son who is singing, "Aaj jyotsna raate shobai gechchey bon-ey. Bosonter maathaa khaaraap hoyey gechchey..."

I don't even know how to begin to translate this! But trust me, it's hilarious!
My Bengali-speaking blog friends are welcome to try ;)

Moonwalking on the Moon

I woke up this morning to the shattering news that MJ is no more.

He was a huge part of many a happy memory revolving around radio, MTV and school parties. His death has cast a dark, grey shadow over a part of my childhood memories.

A musical icon, and yes Wacko Jacko too, but first and foremost a 'Thriller' beyond compare.

Shake it MJ, in the clouds, on the moon, wherever you are, just shake it. And we'll keep your music alive.

Thriller
Beat It
Heal the World
Black or White
Billie Jean
You Are Not Alone

...for all this and more, thank you for the music.

Snippets About My Poppets

~Snippet #1 about Poppet #1
Watching my EO play with the lovely, wooden, Chad Valley train set in Spencer's, I felt he so beautifully captured the time-old cliche of little boys and train sets.

~Snippet #2 about Poppet #1
MaaJanoni and I were talking animatedly in the car today, after picking up the EO from school. In between our conversation, I could hear my little boy singing to himself. The song? "Re Mamma, Re Mamma Re". He's learning it in school. And singing the last line about the danda, he dissolved into peals of laughter! Sigh! They don't make songs like this anymore...

~Snippet #3 about Poppet #1
Lying down on the bed, reading. I hear my EO softly singing a Bengali song that I used to sing when I was a little girl. "Ai Tobey Shohochuri". I immediately started to sing it and his eyes just lit up with sheer joy. He came and stood next to me as we sang our duet together; mant words forgotten, some skipped over, large bits of it just hummed, but the music of the heart played clear and strong in my bedroom today.
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~Snippet #1 about Poppet #2
I was trying to get in a ten-minute snooze, when I felt my eyelids being pried open by a pair of very insistent hands. My YO peered seriously into my eyes, saying as sweetly as possible, "Mamma, chok kholo, kholo." (Mamma, open your eyes). As if I had a choice! But we soon turned this into a fun albeit slightly painful (for me) game for the next few minutes.

~Snippet #2 about Poppet #2
My normally undemonstrative little YO came running into my room where I was still trying to doze and threw his arms around my neck. He cuddled into me saying, "My Mamma! My Mamma!" My heart did a big happy dance and I held him really close to me. Of course, I found out soon enough that the little mite was trying to protect himself after giving his his elder brother a bit of a bashing! Ah well! did get some free hugs!

Sa Re Ga Ma Pa, Mera Dil Gayey Jaa!

I love music. After my boys, it's my second most favourite thing in the world. I can sit at a musical conference/concert all day and night and not notice the call of nature, feel the pull of a stiff back or feel the need for a good cup of elaichi chai. I studied to the soulful tunes and notes of classical music at night during my ICSE and ISC. Yes, I was a night owl. And during those stressful times, Pandits Ravi Shankar, Hari Prasad Chaurasia and Ustad Amjad Ali Khan would ease the tensions away. The musical ghosts of Verdi and Tchaikovsky were constant companions too.

When I moved to Delhi for my BA and subsequent MA, one article that I insisted on taking along with me was my parents' first-ever two-in-one. It had FM radio and a cassette player. What more did I need? It was my faithful friend and fixture. It shifted rooms with me, cooed me to sleep, coaxed me out of my slumber, kept me company during term papers and dissertation, sang me love songs during the first rush and blush of a crush, and sobbed with me during many a heartbreak.

Music is my soul food. And I have an eclectic taste in music, if I do say so myself. It all depends on my mood. So sometimes I jazz it up with Diana Krall, feel all lazy and bluesy with Norah Jones, let my heart ballet with Mozart or pretend it's an apsara for Pandit Shiv Kumar Sharma, rock it with Scorpions, melt to Josh Groban, lend my voice and soul to Rabindrasangeet, blast it with Bollywood...pretty much let my soul do whatever it's feeling like at that very moment. Yes, I'm very indulgent when it comes to feeding my soul with music. (Yes! Yes! I'm indulgent to my hips, waist and thighs too with chocolate, so my body can't complain that I love my soul more!!)

Often though, I forget about the power music has over me. It's soothing, healing and restorative powers. It can cure almost everything, I'm sure. There's a great deal to be said about music therapy...

So, in all the madness of daily life, project deadlines and two sniffly boys and one middle-aged type fighting for this Mamma's attention, my soul's cravings had taken a backseat. Oh the chocolates were still coming fast and furious because when the body wants, it gets. The body's hunger cannot be shushed or shut up. But the very essence of a soul is it's patience. It waits silently and sufferingly. Dangerous, yes, because there's a pressure cooker effect building up slowly and surely, but for the most part, it is quiet and patient.

This morning, the MIM put on some of my ABBA favourites from the movie 'Mamma Mia!' at eardrum shattering levels. And I sang. No, no, that's wrong. I belted it out. From my gut, from my very insides. From my very soul. I sang loud and proud, at the top of my voice, matching the decibel level of the iPod. I could feel all the black and blue clouds swirling over my head parting to make way for starlight, moonshine and fairy dust. My spine immediately straightened itself and I felt so tall, I could probably catch a floating cloud.

And I felt the unmistakable sting of tears rick my eyes. Not because I sang well. Good God, no! But because I just realised, again, how happy music and singing makes me. I felt so bloody happy! And it was a kind of no-strings attached happiness. The happiness just existed and radiated like the sun. No need for meaning or thought or deep philosophy or dissection. It was happiness. Plain and simple.

And the song that was playing? Very appropriately, 'Thank You For the Music."

Seriously. And happily. Thank you indeed.

A Good Morning

The day promises to be a good one...

I was all awash with tenderness as I saw my boys propped up against the sofa-cum-bed, munching away on apples in silent, brotherly companionship.

We are on the fourth replay of "Where's the Party Tonight?" by express request of the EO and he is giving his dance every ounce of energy he has, 'singing' (read 'yelling') out the chorus at the top of his voice and trying to monitor his moves in the bathroom mirror (our bed is the improv dance floor!). It's quite a tough task if you're jumping up and down like a certain Jack Flash with an urge to pee and itch at the same time! But if he's anything as cute as my EO, then trust me, the sight is adorable!

Tomorrow...there may be a picnic! Plans are in the offing! Shhh! Keeping my fingers crossed!

Yes! So far so good! And don't they say that morning shows the day? Keeping my toes crossed on this one...

Sunday Schooling and Snoozing

Scenario 1: The EO and the Nephew have just finished watching an episode (or rather, half an episode) of Power Rangers : Jungle Fury. Thoroughly inspired, the EO put on his Black Power Ranger suit and the Nephew suited himslf up in the uniform of a medivial knight. As always, they turned to me to fill in for the missing characters. I yelled out, "Watch out! The Dai-Chi is coming! Help us! Save us! Please!" Immediately the EO stopped and shook his head. "No Mamma. It's Dai-Shi, not Dai-Chi. And he's in Jungle Fury. This is Operation Overdrive", pointing to the logo on his chest. Sigh! And I was so smug in my knowledge of Ben 10 and his alien alter-egos. I was proud of the fact that I could differentiate between a Decepticon and an Autobot, and also confidently name who batted for which team. Seems like I still have a lot to learn!

Scenario 2: The YO still has a stuffed nose and is very cranky. The MIM was trying to get him into a better mood as I went in for a wuick shower and shampoo. I heard the MIM playing our song for the YO, the beautiful Love Theme from 'Mask of Zorro', and an instrumantal version of the theme song from 'The Godfather'. Two of my eternal favourites..."I want to spend my lifetime loving you" and "Speak softly love". The MIM played them over and over again for our red-nosed little one. Then he statrted knocking on the bathroom door asking me to take a peek. I do. And what do I see? The YO, fast asleep, soring softly and gently as the sweet music played near his head. It was a perfect, beautiful sight. And thrilling to boot! I rejoiced seeing my son fall peacefully and happily asleep to the soft strains of music...a character trait inherited from me, no doubt! I love falling asleep listening to music. The MIM...not so much. As for the YO, well, he's a boy after my own heart. From my own heart!

Musical Notes

I love music. LOVE. Let me spell it out for you, I L-O-V-E M-U-S-I-C. I do. I just do. And I hope you get the picture.

So I can not begin to describe how much of a super-fantabulous source of joy it is to me that my EO loves music too. A ride in the car is incomplete if the radio is not on. Hehehe. It's thanks to the million-and-one FM stations that you could hear him mouthing divine phrases such as "Om Shanti Om" and "Hare Ram, Hare Ram, Hare Krishna Hare Ram" all day long. Just these lines, over and over again, like a stuck record (you remember what a record is, don't you?) Anyway, so here you have this adorable little scamp singing religious phrases all day long, much to the delight of the grandparents and the amusement of the parents, uncle and aunt. And I rememeber how a friend's cousin was embarrassed when years ago, her four-year old daughter was singing in a loud and clear voice, "Sexy, sexy, sexy mujhe log bole!" I gave thanks to Bollywood's plethora of music directors for composing music that had my son singing praises to the Gods above. And then, without so much as a warning, what should I suddenly hear from his pure little mouth? "Zara zara touch me, touch me, touch me! Zara zara kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!" Each word as Swarovski crystal clear as can be! In front of both sets of grandparents and class teachers. Oh why oh why, has the Earth stopped swallowing women whole? She can spit us out later, much later, after the embarrassment has long-passed and been forgotten.

But all that aside, the EO loves music, loves to sing. And I couldn't be happier.

The YO hadn't really shown that much of an interest. The occasional bum-wiggle to an ad jingle every now and then, but that was pretty much it. No prancing around to nursery rhymes, filmi geet or Rabindrasangeet. Until "Om Shanti Om" happened and like his elder brother, he was hooked. Whenever I sat down with my laptop where I have hundreds of songs stored, I would have to, HAVE TO, play the song first and close to a dozen times. While soon enough the song started to give me a headache, I loved it for the amount of joy it gave my little one. But, I wanted him to start appreciating other songs as well. No go! It was that or nothing. I tried so hard to get him to fall in love with my two current favourites..."Jashn-E-Baharaa" from "Jodha Akbar" and of course, "Kabhie Kabhie Aditi" from "Jaane Tu Yaa Jaane Naa". But it just wasn't happening, so I gave up the lost cause with a heavy heart and resigned myself to a lifetime of 'hot girls putting up hands and cool boys making noise and saying Om Shanti Om.'

Until...

A couple of days ago, I was going out with my boys. The EO was on my lap, the YO on the ayah's. The radio was on (but of course) and the EO was singing along to all the familiar tunes whenever they played. Then they started to play "Jashn-E-Baharaa" and I suddenly saw my YO lean forward, smile at me, raise his right hand and attemp a snap in time to the music! Yaaaayyy! My heart swelled! It was so much more than the fact that he was enjoying the music. It was the fact that he recognised this song to be his Mamma's favourite and was sharing her joy as it played.

And just now, as I sat down to check my mails and my blog, putting my thoughts together so that I could write, my little one runs up to me, grabs hold of the dining table, stands on tiptoe and turns his endearing little face towards mine, eyes shining bright and says "Cobby cobby". My heart melted. I thought he was 'offering' me my morning cuppa coffee, since he knows that's the first thing I have and usually it's while I have the laptop open. I ruffled his hair, running my fingers through his silky curls and told him I'd have it later. He shook his sweet, little head and repeated himself, "Cobby cobby." I looked at him perplexed and then he pointed to my laptop. It then hit me! He wanted me to play "Kabhie Kabhie Aditi!"

I'm on the tenth replay right now and I'm pretty sure that this is something I can definitely live with!

We Do What We Do

A friend's sister has composed a song for her soon to-be-teenaged daughter. I heard it yesterday and I bawled. And bawled. And bawled.

The perfect word to describe the song is 'beautiful'. Yes, there are other adjectives as well, such as 'touching', 'moving', 'overwhelming' and the like. But more than anything else, the song is terribly, hauntingly bee-you-tee-full!

But why did I cry? Beacuse that's what I do. Yes, I'm that girl. The girl who cries whenever she's moved. I cry when I miss my parents. I cry in bed at night if I've scolded the boys.I cry during chick flicks, Bollywood bichhre-huey-bhaiyyon-ke-milan-par movies and realistic Italian and Bengali art-house films. I cry whenever I feel overwhelmed by anything that is pure, raw, and movingly beautiful to the point of heartbreak. I cry when I hear a great song, a lovely piece of music and when I read.

And I cry at displays of the magnitude of motherhood. Because to me, nothing is more pure, raw and movingly beautiful to the point of heartbreak.

So when you have a nice mushy mixture of motherhood and melody? You've got a Mamma who's well and truly liquefied.

This song did that to me. Another song that starts the waterworks is 'Maa' from "Taare Zameen Par". These songs got it right. Spot on. Hit the Mamma on the head and in the heart.

I came away from my friends' with the song buzzing in my head and a strange, sadness in my heart. How easy it is for some mothers to show their children their love. Yes, of course we all do, with our words, hugs, cuddles and gestures. And our children reciprocate in their own wonderful ways. But how grand it must be to be able to do it in such creative ways! Some mothers compose songs and sing. Some write amazing books and blogs! Some paint paintings, make collages, fashion sculptures out of clay. Some document their childrens' lives in by writing it down in diaries, or typing it into an online journal or sometimes even by making videos. Some bake heart-shaped cookies and cupcakes with their little boys'/girls' names on top in icing! What do I do?

I know that my sons probably don't need me to do any of the above. Chasing after them pretending to be a witch so that they can run away screaming in hysterical delight probably gets the message across. Giving them that extra piece of chocolate once in a while should do the trick too. Singing lullabies at night helps as well, I think. Buying them an unexpected present, sneaking up behind them to surprise them with a bear hug, putting on the TV for their favourite cartoon, not to mention the endless "I love yous"...yeah, I'm sure my boys know. But what else?

And then I remembered. I write them poetry. And this blog.

And hopefully, they'll understand better.