I can not get to my blog or the comments section in office and I do not have a internet connection at home(having one didn't help either) and so I couldn't thank each one of you who dropped by to wish me. The last time 1 or 2 of you actually commented here was when I announced that I was carrying the peapod. So ofcourse, since this would be my last stint at the conceiving business, I am not sure when I would hear from you again. So I had to make a separate post just to tell you, each and every "congratulations" has touched my heart.
The nausea is still on. While I am not throwing up all over the place but the continuous queasy feeling can bring anybody to tears. Of all the things I hate my cooking. The last time I told P about getting a maid, he praised my culinary skills to the sky and said he has noticed the improvement in my speed and multi-tasking abilities. Since I was busy enjoying all that niceties he was saying, I forgot my arguments and so we are stay put.
I have realized kitchen intelligence is a completely different expertise. The ability to plan a saturday breakfast on thursday or latest by friday morning so that you can soak the necessities and grind it by evening so that it can sour sufficiently by sat morning is so so so beyond me. I can not even plan the next day's breakfast and so never get to soak any lentils in time. I just plan the hour. On most days I am awake by 6:30, lying in bed and that is when I am thinking what do I make now . When I get back home by 7:45 - 8pm, that is when I am thinking so what is for dinner. So no meal is ever elaborate. Saturday and Sunday are solely for rest. Slogging in the kitchen over meals is not my idea of rest.
I have always been in awe of houses with a bawarchi(cook). I so love the idea of sitting at home and saying things like "Ramu kaka, aaj aloo pakode khaane ka bada dil kar raha hai" or "Saheb ke liye roti aur baigan bharta bana dijiye aur hum mirchi-pakoda khayege"(See how filmy I get addressing the non-existant bawarchi, perfect hindi too..nahi?). To me that is the ultimate luxury.
Someday when I can still stay sane and argue when P is weaving his magic by praising my culinary skills to the sky, I will get our own bawarchi.