Public places

Vazhani , the scenic dam and forest area in Thrissur. We- my family- visit the place quite often. This happened when we went there one evening. As we enter the walkway from which the view is beautiful, there is a small wooded area sloping towards the dam, where there are a few badly done animal sculptures are placed. Usually we don't go there, we just take the walkway. But this time the kids wanted to go and see the 'tiger' up close. As Ramesh was walking ahead with Balu, I called out to him to walk back, and I started entering the area with the other two. Suddenly a local person who was sitting on the half wall there told my kids (and indirectly to me), 'no, no, don't go in there, there is nothing to see'..I looked at him and he gave some kind of a patronizing smile and repeated that there was nothing to see, and may be it was dangerous. I said it's OK, even if the tiger is ugly we don't mind, and started to go in, but then I saw what made him stop me. There was a group of men sitting and drinking, making noise and all. I swiftly retreated and pulled my kids back, and walked on towards the walkway.

But then it struck me, and anger swept over. Why did I walk away? The place was mine, as much as anyone else's. I had the right to the scenery. I was doing nothing wrong. Then what was it that made me retreat? Why didn't that local person tell those hooligans to stop, instead of telling me and my innocent kids away? The same restraint that keeps family people of our state away from streets at night, the same inhibition we have when we go all alone to a park, or a beach, or a hotel, or a theater, the same seething silence we endure when we see the public places that belong to us taken away by those who actually abuse them..It is so ingrained in my psyche, and how I hate it!

Tripletshouse turns one!

On this Valentine’s day our triplets reach four years of age. As we have only recently undergone a sad loss, there is no real celebration- just cutting the cake, singing ‘Happy Birthday’, and that’s it. A small family occasion. We can take the cake to their anganwadi on 15^th, Monday, and share our joy. I shall post the pictures then.

Incidentally, in the same week, my blog also becomes a year old. During my triplet pregnancy bedrest days I used to write small notes- about our treatment, pregnancy, complications etc. During those days of anxiety and confusion, many websites and blogs helped clear my many doubts. So I wanted to give back to the virtual community- I wanted to share my experiences too, so it can be helpful to ladies- aspiring to be pregnant, or pregnant with multiples, or wondering about symptoms of OHSS, or worrying about their inability to breastfeed etc. However once my babies came to our life, there was no stopping or looking back, or even a pause- it was all a mad rush- that is, until they turned three. Three year old children suddenly act more matured! And the real fun starts then, playng together, role- play, super hero worship, curiosity about everything etc. But this also leaves a little fee time to the parents as children become more understanding, that is, they give a bit more consideration to their slaves' needs.  So I also got a few minutes to spare every day and started typing my written notes hence publishing my blog, initially a private one. By their third birthday, I completed all the entries and scheduled the posts as they happened- narrating the incidents in present tense. On February 14^th 2015 I made the blog public and shared it in Facebook. So many of my friends read the posts and gave very kind and encouraging comments (in Facebook), and many others sent me messages. I was overjoyed, but then I had finished saying almost everything I had to say. So I stopped publishing any new posts.

Gradually I learned something about blogging. I started the blog so that if someone did a search about OHSS or triplet pregnancy in Kerala, they got to read my experiences and thus gain some insight or at least felt better. But as I stopped posting, my blog was losing some of its visibility. Also I got a number of private messages from friends or even strangers (many of who later became my friends), asking for more details, seeking reassurances etc. I found that this was an area where I could really vent myself- share the stories or feel lighter after a stressful day. So I continued writing, and this time I concentrated on parenting and raising triplets in Kerala. Once I resumed, I found that I had many things to share- about our culture and customs, places to visit, kiddie talks, stories, information about preschools, even a few parenting tips! I found that I enjoyed every bit of it, so here I am, wishing many many happy returns of the day to www.tripletshouse.blogspot.com !

I Wanted to Scream and Run Away: Postpartum Depression in a Triplets' Mother

'Food is on the table', my mother said. I felt a lump rise to my throat at such a simple sentence. I was convinced that there was a hidden impatience in her tone- a confirmation of my fears. 

I got up and with difficulty walked to the table- it still hurt where they had cut me open- sat down and started eating, when Baby-A started crying. Baby-B and C were sleeping. My mother brought the baby to me and gently but firmly placed him in my lap. The lump in   my throat grew larger and I felt tears rolling down my cheeks, and I felt very ashamed. I kept my face away so my mother wouldn’t see the tears, and I held my baby with my left arm, gently rocked him on my lap and ate with my right hand. 

On finishing, I got up and placed baby on the bed, he was fast asleep by now. I took the empty plates and slowly walked to the wash all the time hoping that my mother would say no, keep the plate there. I will wash. She didn’t. Again I felt ashamed for wishing so, and again I felt the tears. Once inside the toilet I kept the tap running and cried aloud, uncontrollably, for long minutes. When I felt somewhat better I got out and walked to the bed without letting my mother see my face.

We were in one of the private rooms attached to the NICU. It was a week after my triplets were born, and the day we got all of them in the room from NICU. My hormones were raging. I felt absolutely, thoroughly depressed. I just wanted to get out of the room, leave everything, especially the babies, and run away. I wanted my old, calm and peaceful life back. Or at least be able to just sit on the bed with my baby on my lap and gently talk to him while watching his face, make him smile, watch his expressions. I wanted to do that with each of my babies, but having all three together, I could not even look closely at one's face- I had to run around all the time. I couldn’t bear to hear the constant crying, the constant demands for milk, the constant failure to produce any breast-milk, the constant mixing of formula, cleaning the bottles, warming the water, and the diaper changing thrice every couple of hours or even less. 

First days of my babies

One month back I was still having my bed rest. I was not supposed to get up-even to eat. My parents brought the food, served it hot and I barely sat up (because I simply could not eat lying down) and ate. After washing my mouth I would lie down again. Watch some TV or read or talk to my babies in the womb. It was so much better when they were inside. All chaos started when they came out. 

After completing my 35^th week of pregnancy and still counting, I was asked to stop my bed rest, and walk for some time every day. It was very difficult, nevertheless joyful, because my husband helped me walk; we went to the open terrace of the hospital and took strolls. Back in the room my mother talked to me while I took small steps holding her hand and I was treated like a special person.

It all ended the moment my babies came out. I was brought back to my room, and my babies were taken to NICU. The pain of the C-section was killing me, the strong desire to see my babies, the grief of not being able to see them and the uncertainty about the future made me feel thoroughly depressed. 

The nurses were urging me to get up and walk when all I wanted was to just lie down and sleep forever. They asked me to try and express milk when nothing would come. I saw them take small feeding bottles to NICU, all filled with breast-milk expressed by other new mothers whose babies were also in the NICU. I felt so jealous, unhappy and ashamed. 

Then my husband went to NICU and brought some videos of our babies. I snatched the mobile and watched them with hunger and longing. My babies looked perfect, the tiny, soft fingers, and the pink color, thin lips- I felt overjoyed suddenly and wanted to see them desperately. The next day I was taken to NICU and saw them. I fell in love, I wanted to hold them and keep them with me, but at the same time I was frightened. I had no idea how to handle three tiny babies at the same time. 

In 6-7 days we got the babies in the room, one by one. They were very normal, although slightly underweight, but being new born and being one month premature, and being fed formula through a tube attached to the nose, they cried whenever they woke up. This was quite normal, and I wouldn’t have found this an inconvenience at all had it been a single baby, but three babies crying together or one after the other was getting on my nerves. It wasn’t their crying, it was my own helplessness and inability to hold them all together was what made me feel terrible. 

Then there were a lot of opinions- anyone who visited or stayed to help or just heard about the babies, had some advice- many of which contradicted with what the doctors instructed. Relatives said babies should sleep on their backs, not on their tummy like doc instructed; they said babies should be held horizontally in our hands while doc told us to hold them vertically resting their chin on our shoulder. All this confused me and I just wanted to get out of this mess. I looked at the world with hatred as if everyone conspired against me. The next moment I also felt guilty and ashamed for feeling thus. 

My parents and husband understood and supported and loved me completely, but even that I could not recognize or appreciate in my depression. But now when I look back I can see how blessed I was and am to have the three of them in my life, and how much more I could have enjoyed those first days with my babies if I had recognized the love and effort of my parents and husband in helping me out. 

As a new mother, if I had a single child, all I would have had to do would be to sit on the bed with my feet up and baby on lap, and feed him and watch his face. But as a mother of triplets I always had to move around, mixing formula, cleaning bottles and changing diapers- there was no time to enjoy my babies’ faces. Or to have the kind of traditional prasavaraksha (a postpartum care package) guaranteed to make me healthy enough to take care of the babies in the future. My mother constantly said aloud that I should undergo prasavaraksha, but it was not possible at the time. We needed all hands to help out. I could not back off and take life leisurely.

I am not elaborating. But the first year of my motherhood was a roller coaster ride of emotions- imbalances. I cried at least once every day, I wanted to scream and run away, and I always felt as if I was bound by chains, and there were these walls around me, imprisoning me, and there were these whips lashing at me urging me to constantly work while I wanted to rest. I wanted to be near my husband and cry my heart out and tell him all I felt, but I never got the chance because we were all busy all the time with the babies. Had I been able to do that I would have definitely felt better. Once we got a chance to go out for a check-up, and my parents took care of the babies for a couple of hours. That was when I chanced upon Babyhood and reading some part of it every night came as a huge relief.

On hindsight, this is what I would like to tell all new mothers of multiples, about postpartum depression-

1. If you feel that you are not treated like a special person anymore, wait for a few weeks. Once your baby starts recognizing faces, yours will be the first one she will recognize, and from then on, you will never feel you are not special- you are THE ONLY special person in the world for your baby.
2. It is perfectly normal to feel like screaming or running away. (I am not telling the other, more dangerous thoughts that I had, but believe me, I had them). If you want to talk about it, I am ready to listen, just give a call. Or there are many forums online about postpartum depression, just talk to those wonderful ladies out there. You are sure to feel better.
3. Appreciate everyone’s help, and try to love and spend time with your babies- this too shall pass soon.
4. Understand that what you are undergoing is due to hormone imbalance, and this is much more than what the mothers of single babies usually undergo. Research has proved it. So it is not your fault- don’t feel ashamed at what you are feeling. You do love your baby; it will take some time to realize it.
5. If possible read books like Babyhood, if possible show posts like this to your family- tell them you are undergoing this phase. They may not understand, but at least you tried. 

And finally, talk and share your anxieties, pray and meditate. It will help.

Telling Stories- An Effective Way to Motivate My Preschoolers

You want your child to get up early, brush teeth properly, eat well, dress up neat and fast, go to school happily, study and work hard, play and have fun, wash and clean up, be healthy and hygienic, sleep well, treat others kindly, behave nicely, be honest and a lot of other things. The tug of war and power-play and a lot of fights happen at home because of this- yes, the child invariably resists the parents' attempts to make him the ideal human. Once you sit down peacefully and think about it, you feel that he has a right to the resist the efforts. Sometimes you might even laugh at your own silly need to make the child do something. But that is another story. What I want to tell here is about one method I found very effective to inspire my triplets to behave the way I want them to behave, without my being harsh. I find it especially hard when all three preschoolers together start their tantrums, end up hitting or biting each other the next moment or make a lot of noises or throw things- harming themselves in the process. They fall down, get hit, and start crying. It is not advisable to always offer them toys or snacks to get them to calm down or do something I want them to do, because this might later become a habit. 
So what is the effective method?

Tell them a story.

Yes, I found this to be the best method. But you need to choose(or make up) a story apt for the situation. For example, you want your preschooler to get up from bed, get ready and go to school, and he just doesn't want to do any of these. You can try this story (This I made up now, and it does not have any particular quality. But in the link given at the end of this post I have given a couple of nice stories from Indian Mythology, which can really inspire children)- 'Once upon a time there lived two baby rabbits in a big forest. One was a lazy bum called Thimmayya, and the other was a smart one called Fastrabbit. One day Fastrabbit got up very early as usual and saw the glorious morning sun (while telling this gently pick him up and show the rising sun through the window, if possible, or just show a nice sunrise picture). Fastrabbit called Thimmayya but he just kept sleeping. He ran out and brushed and his teeth shone like white pearls. Then he took a nice bath in the sparkling waters of Bluesparkle Pond (Use names, a lot many adjectives.. these will help his vocabulary and will surely make him fall in love with language, which is essential to make him want to read). Now Bluesparkle has a lot of red and yellow and blue water lilies and lotuses in it (Add flower names, colors etc. as many as possible- this stretches the story as well as his imagination. Now he is with you in the pond, while he does his brushing and his bathing). After his refreshing bath Fastrabbit went out to the carrot garden and got the best and fresh carrots for himself. (Describe the carrots to the tiniest detail). Fastrabbit started muching the sweet, red carrots one by one. And there he was! He became very strong! He jumped up and down, danced here and there, and ate a lot more vegetables, and drank his milk. Now he was the strongest and smartest one in all the forest! By now Thimmayya came out but all he could get was some ugly and spoiled carrots. So he wasn't strong at all. Fastrabbit was watching the flowers when suddenly a lion named Cruesimha jumped at him! But Fastrabbit was so smart he could just jump to the side and the lion fell on his nose and cried.(Act out this well, and you'll get unstoppable giggles!) Now Fastrabbit ran and hid himself while the angry lion got up and looked around. He saw a scared and weak Thimmayya sitting there. Cruesimha caught Thimmayya easily and was about to swallow him when an elephant named Bandiana jumped at the lion and scared him. The frightened lion left Thimmayya there and ran off. Now, how did Bandiana come there? Fastrabbit called him. they were close friends and they both got up earl and ate fresh food, and both were very strong. Cruesimha was as lazy as Thimmayya, so he didn't have a chance against the smart duo. Thimmayya now learned his lesson, got up early everyday, ate good food and became strong like Fastrabbit and befriended other smarties like Bandiana. They all lived happily ever after.

By the time you finish the story, he should be ready for school, ready to face the world. Or as in my case, the end their tantrums and listen intently when I narrate a nice, motivating story.

You think this is difficult? To make up stories, or to choose the right one, and tell all that? Believe me, with three four-year-old kids, I do this almost every day (sometimes they are very well behaved and nice without any prompting at all), and I always find it highly rewarding. You yourself get a new energy telling the story, stretching your imagination. All three of them listen intently, while going through their chores. And I never have to use a harsh or loud word, or shout at them. You in fact save time with this method. Try it! I have given some inspiring stories you can use, from Indian Mythology in the post inspiring-stories-for-preschoolers

Triplets love stories

Kutty tries coloring

Kids love to listen to mother's voice

There is yet another effective method, that is to tell them this is what your superhero will do now. For instance when I want my son to pick up the scattered toys and keep them in the shelf, I tell him- 'Look at Peter Parker (Spider-man)! Everyday he takes the garbage out- that's his duty. Similarly your duty now is to keep the toys in the shelf. Remember, with great power comes, great responsibility! This works every single time! See also my post on how to make your kid collect superhero points- Animations-and-other-movies-for-children.
So next time, the moment you feel like shouting at your kid or banging your own head, try these methods.. And do share with me what happened!

Inspiring Stories for Children

Today I am going to post three inspiring stories for children from Indian Mythology. I say 'inspiring for children' because it helps a lot to tell them these when there is a lot of fights and kicks and tantrums to study or to go to school, or even to just get up in the morning. These are not particularly education related stories, but just inspiring in their own way. See this related post- Effectively-Motivating-Preschoolers. And of course, there is a way to tell kids stories, if they have to be effective. 

I use a number of techniques to get my triplets to go to school in the morning, all 'Sama Dana Bheda Danda' approaches, and this story telling comes in the 'Sama' category. So here we go.

Story 1: Yavakrida

Once upon a time, there lived two sages, named Bharadwaja and Raibhya, who were dear friends. Raibhya and his two sons, Paravasu and Arvavasu, learnt the Vedas and became famed scholars. Bharadwaja devoted himself wholly to the worship of God.  

He had a son named Yavakrida who became unhappy that people did not respect his ascetic father as they did the learned Raibhya. Yavakrida also wanted to learn the Vedas, but he did not have the patience to study from a teacher as that would take many years. He wanted knowledge instantly and directly. He began practicing austerities and hard penance to please Indra, chief of gods. Indra appeared and asked him what he wanted. Yavakrida replied: "I wish to be learned in the Vedas, I wish to be a great scholar. I am performing these austerities to realise that desire. Indra smiled and said: "You are on the wrong path, child. Return home, seek a Guru and learn the Vedas from him. Austerity is not the way to learning; the path is study and study alone."  With these words Indra vanished. But Yavakrida would not give up. He pursued his course of austerities with even greater rigor and Indra again manifested himself before Yavakrida and warned him again: "You have taken the wrong path to acquire knowledge. You can acquire knowledge only by study. Your father learnt the Vedas by patient study and so can you. Go and study the Vedas. Desist from this vain mortification of the body." Yavakrida did not heed even this second warning of Indra and he continued his penance. One morning, during his austerities, when he went to bathe in the Ganga, be saw an old sage on the bank, laboriously throwing handfuls of pebbles into the water. Yavakrida asked: "Old man, what are you doing?" The old man replied: "I am going to build a bridge across this river. When, with handful after handful, I have built a bridge of pebbles here, people can cross the river with ease." Yavakrida laughed and said: "What a fool you must be to think you can build a bridge across this mighty river with your silly handfuls of pebbles! Arise and take to some more useful work." The old man said: "Is my work more foolish than yours of mastering the Vedas not by study but by austerities?" Yavakrida now knew that the old man was Indra. More humble this time, Yavakrida earnestly begged Indra to grant him learning as a boon. Indra blessed him to study hard and thus become learned and wise.

Story 2: Uthanka

Once a sage named Uthanka prayed to Krishna and Lord Krishna appeaed before him. The sage bowed to Krishna. Krishna told Uttanka to ask for a boon. Uttanka asked Krishna to grant him the boon of finding water whenever he was thirsty. Krishna granted the boon to Uttanka, and Uthanka’s simplicity pleased Krishna who then requested Indra to give him amrita which would make him an immortal, but Indra was not willing to give it to mortals. Finally, Indra relented and told Krishna that he would offer Uttanka the amrita as a Chandala (an outcaste untouchable), provided the sage did not refuse it. Krishna agreed to Indra's condition . One day wandering in the desert, the sage became thirsty and, hoping to get water, thought of Krishna, but instead, he found a naked Chandala bringing water in a pot. The Chandala was covered in mud and surrounded by filthy dogs. The Chandala repeatedly requested Uttanka to drink the water he brought. But when Uttanka refused, the Chandala disappeared. Then when Krishna appeared on the scene Uttanka and said that by refusing the water from the Chandala, he forever lost the chance to become immortal- a person who can consider everyone equal only can have the blessing of Amrita.  However, Krishna promised to keep his boon of providing water to the sage. He then blessed Uttanka that rain clouds would appear at his bidding and bring rain showers in the desert. These clouds appear rarely, and in the desert rain clouds are still known as Uttanka’s clouds (Uttanka Megha)

Story 3: Good Conduct

Once the Asura king named Prahlada became the emperor of the three worlds because he was a man who had the highest character, who performed the most difficult austerities. Determined to find out the secret of Prahlada's success Indra assumesd the form of a sadhu and went to Prahlada to serve him as a disciple. Pleased with the disciple's service and determination, Prahlada told him his success was due to his following his Guru's teachings. Indra continued to serve Prahlada and eventually the Asura emperor, pleased with the devotion shown and the service rendered, asked his disciple to ask for a boon, not knowing he is Indra. Indra replied saying that all he wanted was Prahlada's character and integrity. Prahlada granted him the boon and Indra left his teacher.

Soon Prahlada saw a dazzlingly lustrous figure emerge from his body and leave him. When Prahlada asked him who he was, the figure said that he was Sheela, Integrity, and he was leaving him because Prahlada had given him away. He went to join the sadhu that was Indra.

Soon another radiant being emerged from Prahlada's body and when asked who he was, the being told that he was Dharma: virtue and righteousness. After Dharma too left him, telling him he was going to live in the body of the sadhu since he, Dharma, lived only where Integrity was. Soon Prahlada found himself being abandoned by Satya, Truth, and Vritta, Uprightness, and then yet another Bala, Strength, all leaving him one by one to live in the sadhu, following Integrity. 

Following Bala, a beautiful goddess emerged from Prahlada’s body and when asked she told him she was Shree, the goddess of wealth, prosperity, good fortune and all else that was auspicious. Shree told him that she had to leave because she always followed Integrity, Virtue, Truth, Uprightness and Strength. She also told him that the sadhu was none other than Indra, Indra has robbed him of his Integrity and where Integrity is not, there can be no Dharma, no Truth, no Morality, no Strength and no wealth, prosperity or good fortune (courtesy: www.boloji.com)

These three stories give children as well as adults three important messages: first one tells us that there is no short cut to success and learning, but studying and hardwork. Second story tells us to treat everyone equal, and to be kind to everyone, whereas the third story demonstrates the importance of good behavior and integrity. These stories are very short which can be elaborated with details to enhance children's imagination, and impart powerful messages and morals.
See this related post- Effectively-Motivating-Preschoolers. 

Thirty Fingernails to Polish!

It is past 9 pm. Long past bed time for most 4-year old kids, but my triplets are still not ready for bed. Dinner is over, and now they have to brush and take a quick body bath and go to bed. I pick up Ramu to brush his teeth and he is screaming, ‘No..No…NONONO!’ I know he is very sleepy, that is why the tantrum. He simply doesn’t want to go to bed. He is jerking and jumping in my arms, he has a bat and a ball in his hands and he wants to play cricket, now! He wants me to throw the ball. I say no way, and he is getting louder. ‘Throw the ball, throw the ball’, when I suddenly say- ‘There once lived a HUGE whale in an ocean (He is quiet all of a sudden, he loves stories), the whale had two little babies and both of them loved to play cricket (His eyes are wide now, imagining the scene, and I gently prop him on my lap and start brushing), but there was a problem- the ball wouldn’t bounce in the ocean water! Now the whale babies cried and mama whale thought, ‘let me ask the sea turtle’. She goes to the sea turtle and tells the problem (Brushing done, we have started the body bath). The turtle agreed to help and she went inside her house. When she came out she had a ball in her hands. She said ‘this ball will bounce’, and the baby whales started to play. Younger one threw the ball and in did bounce in the water(!) and went to the batsman, the elder baby whale, who hit the ball to the boundary! (We have done the bath, I am dressing him in his pajamas, he is still imagining) Now what was the ball? It was the baby turtle with its neck inside the shell! Since the ball hit the hard shell, it did not hurt, and at the end of the day baby turtle and baby whales became thick friends and played every day from then on’.

When the story is over he is in bed, and within five minutes he is sure to fall asleep. By now my little girl Malu has spotted my nail polish and wants me it put it for her. Only then she would come to brush. Okay, in two minutes I finish polishing all ten fingernails and she brushes fast (I do it in quickly and quietly- else the boys also will come running, demanding that I polish their nails too, right now. That's what happens usually). She wants a story too, and I tell her one from Panchatanthra while we finish the bath. Now I need to get my third sweetie pie to brush and he is screaming his heart out sitting under the staircase demanding to buy a batman suit at this very moment. (Both Ramu and Malu don’t seem to be aware of the tantrums- Ramu is about to sleep, and Malu is telling some story to herself, lying on the bed). No, nothing but the suit can pacify Balu. Still I give a try- depending on the knowledge that he loves his studies. I say loudly to my mother (so I can be heard above his screams) – “Mother, can you give five words that start with ‘T’”? Mother is quick to catch up and she starts words. The screams from below the staircase stopped all of a sudden. Good. After ‘T’, I ask mother to say words with E’, and lo! Balu comes out saying ‘Elephant’ and laughing. I quickly grab him and finish the brushing and bathing, while still continuing the word play. By the time Balu is in bed, I am totally exhausted.

Being a professor of Architecture, I had spent that whole day attending to students’ design reviews in college, commenting and correcting their designs. After reaching home, I had spent all the time playing with the kids and feeding them. Now after my own bath, I can barely move and I sit the bed and close my eyes.  Today is a day when I used the ‘Sama’ and ‘Dana’ techniques of diplomacy. I am not a supermom. Far from it. I survive because both my parents, despite their age, take active part in raising my triplets, and love doing it. I stay sane because my husband spends most of his after- office hours with the kids, thus relieving me. And yet I have my days of stress when I yell at my kids, they scream and cry and I have to threaten them with a stick (my ‘Bheda’ technique). Thankfully I restrain myself from using the stick (no ‘Danda’), but after the yells and screams, all of us are tired, and my kids go to sleep teary-eyed, and by the time I get to bed, I am full of regrets. After all they are kids. If it was one child, would I lose patience so easily? I ask myself. Wouldn’t I try to pacify him/ her with all the love and sweet-talk in the world? Because it is three at a time, I get tired, stressed and end up yelling and shouting.

A small and sweet kiss warms my cheek and I open my eyes. ‘Amma is very tired,’ Malu is whispering to the boys after kissing me. They also move towards me, kiss me and hug me and instantly fall asleep- Ramu in my lap, Malu and Balu in each of my arms.  There is a tiny smile on three angelic faces, and I thank and thank God for all the blessings that He is showering upon us.