tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-132133692009-10-14T02:47:45.152+04:00...the Domestic Goddess WannabeA is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.comBlogger115125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-31603713782283489362009-07-30T00:59:00.002+04:002009-07-30T01:32:37.218+04:00

It's well past 1 in the morning and I have: Gritty eyes and locked jaws, I have lived through all of today/yesterday on just two hours of sleep. A pile of dirty dishes waiting to be washed in the kitchen sink. The kitchen in a state of mess, all visible surfaces covered with stuff to be cleared away Groceries to be put away Two of my son’s feeding bottles and his sippy cup to be washed and

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-47793228966066367132009-04-02T12:57:00.000+04:002009-04-02T12:58:49.928+04:00

Towards the end of 2004, when I was still in AE, FKhala and Khalo went for Umrah and stopped over for visiting me in Dubai on return. Next year they went for another Umrah, but this time with all four of their kids. Next PJ, CJ and CJee went on the pilgrimage with their four kids. And finally Nanajan, Nanijan and N & N khalas went for Umrah too. I was still gloriously and contentedly single at

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-34124742690936881082009-03-20T00:12:00.004+04:002009-03-29T14:29:54.532+04:00

My living room is an obstacle course. Everything that can be reached on tip-toes has to be brought down to add to his collection as he toddles around. Welcome to Tykesville, the little darling is asleep now and how! I had to walk him to sleep, then rock him a bit, just as I bent on the bed to put him down, he sensed abandonment and started crying. Then another round of walking, rocking and

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-41208766141228903072009-01-31T23:57:00.004+04:002009-02-01T00:40:51.966+04:00

Z has a knack for saying and doing just the very things that tick me off, of course it helps that my moods are highly volatile and of late I find myself instantaneously combustible (all credit to Z again).Situation 1: I'm frenetically packing for our weekend trip to RAK while Z lounges with the laptop. This, in Z's books is giving me space!Z: Keep a nail cutter and file in the bag.Me: Why? Didn’

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-65491199589361982752008-12-24T23:17:00.002+04:002008-12-24T23:34:31.652+04:00

I just realised that my last update was SIX months ago! And just now, signing in on blogger I'd forgotten my username and password. Says it all.I'm alive and doing well, as well as the mother of a teething Tyke should be doing, for those 0.00001 occasional reader(s) who still harbor hopes of some new material on this blog...The thing is, my life has become so mundane and mommy-like that blog as I

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-82139602255526566342008-06-19T04:47:00.002+04:002008-06-19T05:50:04.700+04:00

Yaad e maazi azab hai ya rab,Chheen le mujh se hafza meraThree in the morning is an abysmally dejecting time, the wisest course of action, if you happen to wake at this unfortunate hour, is to turn on your side and go right back to slumber land. Not tonight. As I woke up at three to feed the Tyke I could not go back to sleep, partly because my back was shooting painful needles of discomfort up

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-20221923468104633722008-05-22T12:46:00.001+04:002008-05-22T12:56:45.416+04:00

All baby books, guides and sites suggest that babies at two months tire easily, two hours is the maximum they stay awake, then they have to replenish their energy supplies and take a nap. The Tyke, of course can not read at two months and does not realise that he’s tired and should sleep after two hours of fussing/crying/playing, he does not know. So he gets cranky when he’s tired and he cries,

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-71618379167537085982008-04-18T18:30:00.003+04:002008-04-18T18:51:47.111+04:00

So this happens when a little bundle takes over your life. The Tyke arrived on 12th Rabi ul Awwal, also 20th March 2008. Ma was here two days before The Arrival, so I had help, all the same I find Mommyhood overwhelming. I panicked into day three into Mommyhood, had loads of other issues that had to be battled and over come. The Tyke would be a month old day after tomorrow and I blog about hime

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-10211763296348396412008-03-16T14:03:00.003+04:002008-03-16T16:06:25.951+04:00

The world’s gone mad, or perhaps it already was and I’ve started noticing it and worrying about its lunacy more often now. It simply isn’t worth the while to switch on the idiot box and tune into any news channel. One day as I put on Geo, a slide flashed by, announcing of blasts in Lahore. I called up at home, they did not even know of the blasts at the time, but calls were made all around and

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-46117788167704628692008-02-25T12:12:00.002+04:002008-02-25T12:29:51.355+04:00

A book related tag? These days? Luckily there is enough reading fodder littered round the house for me to get out of this with some respectability vis a vis my reading habits.The closest book I had is 'The World is Flat; a brief history of the twenty first century' by NYTimes staffer Thomas Friedman. I started on the book quite ambitiously but have not yet gotten round to reaching page 123. Let's

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-22631499681636922222008-02-24T16:38:00.002+04:002008-03-03T17:01:50.509+04:00

It's strange how you've never paid attention to any baby thing before and now that you're enceinte, you need blinkers every time you go to the mall else you end up at shops selling teeny tiny stuff. Ever since I bought the first two sets of clothing in n/b size December, I can't, simply can't keep myself from being drawn into such shops. First it was Sis and SiL's impending motherhood that had me

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-82045774595289712202008-02-18T14:42:00.009+04:002008-02-18T16:20:07.478+04:00

I love footwear ... and bags. My excuse for buying more chapals, sandals, mules, slip ons, sling-backs etc. is simple, I may have a blue pair of chapals but they are not the right shade for some of my clothes, or the right type for a particular 'look'. The variety of footwear available is staggering there are casuals, formals and smart casuals...my shoe size and preference in heels (or lack

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-31865090839708654392008-02-04T13:06:00.000+04:002008-02-04T13:22:18.165+04:00

Luck is returning home with all your bones aching and cursing you to high heavens for the fatigue you put your body through...with a trunk full of grocery...braving a freezing wind that locks your spine into immobility and all vertebrae-tibio-fibula combinely refusing to bugde an inch to drag your weary self into the building entrance...and finding that only one lift/elevator is working in your

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-91264672213191901202008-01-26T17:50:00.000+04:002008-01-26T18:47:41.897+04:00

Ages ago I had a book of quotes and one struck me then and smacks me in the face now:"Every woman grows up to be like her mother, that's hertragedy; no man does, that's his."As I whiled away this time last year, Ma took it to her to drill into me what marriage meant.Marriage, she said, is hard work, plain and simple; and it's upto the woman to make it work. In societies like ours, the man is

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-68948310321808191072008-01-21T18:55:00.000+04:002008-01-21T20:53:21.309+04:00

I love reading books...actually I love reading, I'll read anything as long as it's in Urdu or English, the two langauges that I claim to be fluent in...and I mean anything, if it's readable, it has to be read. How long I take to read it depends on teh length of the writing, its format and portability (e-treatise have their limitations for instance, they can't be read before dozing off to sleep

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-5842388890957915682008-01-19T14:51:00.000+04:002008-01-19T15:27:44.039+04:00

So Churchill's Black Dog has paid sis a visit. It was due, PN, after all the euphoria of having brought a new life into this world had settled down and she realised that the li'l piece of being had taken over her life...nay, pushed her on the backburner and everyone would henceforth only focus on li'l D. I know I do, whenever I call sis, I'm hoping for a background music of D crying and then I

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-9287786539800126412008-01-10T13:55:00.000+04:002008-01-10T14:27:36.057+04:00

Sis' baby had to be the world's most eagerly awaited baby. We were to have a babe in the family after a long, long time. We, all of us, are crazy about babies. R, my brother, once actually borrowed a kid from a passer-by and brought it home to show us. All my brothers have at one point or another brought their friend's niece/nephew home to be admired by us all. And God help a guest's child

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-27792112796043498302007-12-30T12:53:00.000+04:002007-12-30T13:15:34.349+04:00

Why I'm Returning To PakistanUpdated pics: BB shot before the blastTelltale images expose fatal security flaws : Benazir’s assassinationA face in the crowd: Benazir Bhutto's assassinDaily life on hold after Benazir’s assassinationAnd out came the wolvesFiring at JPMC: patients face terrorOpportunists rule while city mournsState responsible for situation, say citizensKarachi Chaos and aftermath

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-91578606359149256032007-12-29T02:07:00.000+04:002007-12-29T02:34:34.675+04:00

or perhaps it already is. What started out as a wonderful girl's day out ended on a glued to the TV weekend. It was just a fluke actually, flicking through news channels with Pakistan flashing across all...shoot out at a PML-N rally...then came news of a bomb blast at PPP's rally after BB's address. intial reports said that BB was safe, later changing to her husband's plea for prayers for her

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-41631623548434948272007-12-01T12:37:00.000+04:002007-12-25T14:26:07.339+04:00

Writers are a sensitive breed, they can only write to their whimsies, when they have something to say and the right selection of words to get the message across. They can’t be forced to write to a deadline with a gun to their head…or some marital equivalent of it…like a threat of not going out on the weekend.Journalists, past, present and future, are tougher material, more used to delivering a

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-13351586244338975502007-11-28T15:37:00.000+04:002007-12-25T14:28:29.980+04:00

attempt 5 at update.real attempts saved offline, to be completed one of these days and posted.

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-58970694338586146362007-03-02T12:54:00.000+04:002007-12-25T14:27:59.299+04:00

I got a call today, prospective employer; a prospect I’d never explored. I was still in bed when the phone rang and mom picked it up. She called out my name after a while. I carried my emaciated self to the phone stand to be told by a lady that I’d applied for a position at TPPL for a C. Manager and I’d been short-listed. This was out of the blue. I’ve been gloriously unemployed since December

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-1170229674907374882007-01-31T11:35:00.000+04:002007-01-31T11:47:54.923+04:00

OK, so Orkut is three years, So how come I have been on Orkut for all of these three years (got onboard in February 2004) am a member of 79 communities and have only 25 odd/even friends on my list? I am on a networking site and painstakingly avoid/spurn fraindship offers.and then there was an Oh! moment two days ago. While sis and ma were crying, I was trying to contain my laugh, so much so that

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-1169798203652622642007-01-26T11:30:00.000+04:002007-12-25T14:29:25.989+04:00

Everyone’s after my life these days. Seems like I have no use and control over anything anymore. Just by saying yes, I denied my old life to myself. Of all things in te world, i actually get accused of NOT taking interest in shopping! I mean me, not interested in shopping? Has hell frozen over? Is the sun setting somewhere in the south? When it agrees to rise that is? I can’t be blamed for my

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13213369.post-1167034200078318742006-12-25T12:04:00.000+04:002007-12-25T14:29:55.135+04:00

What is it with me and passwords/PIN Codes? Now I have to figure out a way to remember them, else remember what convulted piece of logic was my secret answer...and how to decipher the random numbers i'd hurriedly jotted down that hold a clue to my PIN Codes (note the plural, Oh God!)What did i do with my brain again? Oh yes, i'd wished the offending lump be eaten by a skeletal alley cat. Ouch!

A is:http://www.blogger.com/profile/03662050306231202870noreply@blogger.com2