The Hot Pot Blog


August 19, 2013

On Silver Street

Will at home and in old delhi-8

I’ve been trying to write this post for nearly 5 days now. At one point it was a nice, little post about our trip to Old Delhi in the middle of a monsoon downpour. And then, suddenly, it turned into many more things. For about 24 hours it was about our brief and traumatic brush with the worst preschool I could possibly imagine (located, surprisingly enough, on our compound for the sole purpose of serving the diplomatic community) and how much I had wanted preschool to work out.

And then it turned into a totally off-topic “how will I ever be able to get a non-Embassy job again?” monologue. And then a whiney rant about how my kid no longer naps and how I was really looking forward to preschool and having a few hours a week to run errands and take photos around Delhi without have to sprint after Will in busy parking lot flower stalls or haul him bodily over piles of dead rat entrails with a newborn baby on my chest.

And then I realized that I didn’t even have time, with my non-napping, teething, down at midnight (in our bed) up at 6am kid to sit down and write any of those posts with the amount of nuance or care that I wanted to.*

And then, just now, I’ve realized that perhaps—just perhaps—I am the perfect cliche of a hormonal pregnant woman mothering a teething two year old.

Minus the bit about the rat entrails. I really hope that’s not cliche.

So I give up. In the 3 minutes that I dared to open my laptop to write the above sentences while Will painted quietly (NOT my brightest mothering moment), my kid has managed to cover his feet with watercolors and is now making moves to get all interpretive dancer on me all over our den. I have to run–literally.

But here’s a bit of the post I originally wrote:

My mother-in-law was in town this past week and she had a 20 year old receipt for a shop on Silver Street that she wanted to visit again.

After an unexpectedly tough week, I was beyond caring about nap schedules and logic so I said to myself, “why the hell not? Let’s take the overtired grandson out in the middle of a monsoon downpour at nap time to one of the most chaotic parts of town to visit a shop that may or may not still exist.”

I packed my camera more out of habit than out of hope and off we went. I’m so glad we did.

It was a quicker walk to the shop than I expected and surprising too was Will’s utter fascination with hustle and bustle of Silver street. My little runner stood almost perfectly still on the marble steps of the silver shop contentedly watching the rain and the world go by while I held his small hand in one of my own and clicked as many photos as I could with the other.

Silver street monsoon-3

Silver street monsoon-6

Silver street monsoon-1

Will at home and in old delhi-6

*I’m totally with you, my kid is incredibly overtired and we do try everything to get him to sleep. It’s a teething thing for him though and we’ve seen it before. In a few days he’ll totally crash and sleep 12 hours in a row and maybe even take a real nap again and then he’ll be back to normal-ish until its time for another molar to break through.

2 responses to “On Silver Street”

  1. Sara says:

    Love how blog posts evolve. This was a good one. Love your little disclaimer at the bottom. Poor Will, teeth are tough. At least you’ve pinpointed the issue. Love the photos and I don’t think there is anything wrong with making crazy decisions to see the silver shop at the worst possible moment. Sometimes you have to just forget sensibility.

  2. Lynne says:

    Hey, if the kid is miserable anyway, then there’s no reason not to throw the schedule or routine out the window. Often the stimulation of doing something different makes everything a surprisingly pleasant experience, and even if not it’s no worse than if you’d stayed home with the grumps.

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