Whistle Blower

When a cat sits on a hot kettle, she learns never to sit on a hot kettle again. But what she would never do again also - is never sit on a cold kettle either. In this case the cat is me.

When Suhaana was even smaller, a whistle from the pressure cooker used to spook her out. She would scream and sob inconsolably. I would hold her in my arms, reason with her, it's only a cooker. Then, over to Raj and he would do much of the same. No - the whistle is the enemy. Ultimately the only way things would work is if Raj takes little Suhaana out for a walk and come back only when we're in a whistle-free home.

With time, we just stopped using the pressure cooker- no whistle means no problems. And the whistle scare just came up today when I was talking to a friend. And I realized its been a while since Suhaana heard the whistle because we just stopped using the cooker that whistles. So I wonder if she's grown out of her scare or not. Turns out I might be the one who's scarred enough from Suhaana's crying and scare, that I banished the whistle blower altogether.
I think an experiment to learn if the little baby's grown out of it may be in order some day. Not today. Tomorrow doesn't look good either. But some day.

What will you be when you grow up?

The other day we had company and Suhaana was asked 'What do you want to be once you grow up?'. It made me wonder..

When I was in middle and high school, parental pressure was rampant among my friends. I remember a distinct period when I used to feel the incredible weight of expectations and hope of parents riding on my report cards. Luckily for them, for the most part I was pretty serious about studies myself (I made up for it when I started bachelors, and realized I have to catch up for all the fun I'd been missing studying through high school!). So, their expectations became my own as well.

There was a brief stint in middle school when I thought I wanted to become a professional singer. My parents didn't really take my interest in music that seriously- it was just a hobby. My teacher at school was quick to point out (subtly I guess) that I don't really have that kind of talent to pull it off). Anyhow, that phase ended and I realized I need a real career.

Thinking back, I was wondering whether my expectations might ever be too much to bear for my little one. Even though I've always maintained I don't have any set expectations for her (we're talking about a new generation here, it's not like what I want will be relevant for our new generation kids!), do expectations have a way of creeping up without realizing?

Before Suhaana was born, Raj and I used to wonder what she'll be like. He hoped she be interested in sports so he can play with her. He dreams of being able to run around and play ball with her soon. Since he's good at sports, it's something he looks forward to: to share an interest with his child.

I want to enroll her in a music class when she's young; which she may or may not choose to continue depending on whether she cares for it or not.

I wondered, do these seemingly innocuous hopes and dreams transform into full blown heavy-weight expectations in time?
I hope not. I hope that we can continue hoping and dreaming for things, but still be open to alternative versions of what ultimately might become reality.