I'm Kiran, I'm a dreamer. A writer. A singer. A mother. An ugly crier. An Indian-American. Who loves Gandhi. My stories are full of truth that is sometimes hard for me to say out loud. This blog is where I overcome my fears and live (and love) out loud.
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Handsome in Pink
Let’s make a law that gay people can have birthdays, but straight people get more cake – you know, to send the right message to kids. - Bill Maher
My son likes pink. A lot.
He also likes to wear his sister’s plastic high heel shoes around the house and will carry her purse all sassy-like on his right shoulder.
Clip-clop. Clip-clop.
As we get ready for dinner and we ask him which cup he wants, it’s always the purple one.
With flowers on it.
The other day our amazing Au Pair, Heather, went to pick up Nico from school. She was wearing this pink sweater with Red hearts on it. Here is what it looks like.
- Heather’s Sweater. Forever 21.
The first thing out of Nico’s mouth when he saw Heather was, “Heather, I love your sweater. I just love it!” He brought his hands to his cheeks to express his enthusiasm as well.
Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff
New Year’s Day, 2012
I was tired. I was sitting at my brother-in-law and sister-in-law’s house, waiting for a funeral that shouldn’t have been happening. I was exhausted, emotionally drained.
Defeated.
So I did what any normal person would do. I insulted the gay people who were sitting next to me.
Because if I have learned one thing in life, it’s that when the going gets rough, just take it out on the gays.
I was sitting in family’s house, mourning the loss of my seventeen year old niece on New Year’s Day.
In a house crowded with her memories, her parents’ grief and so few “right” words. Because really, what ARE the right words?
2 Days Ago
Two days earlier, I had been standing in my kitchen, preparing for New Year’s with my mother-in-law. We had just been to Wegman’s, where we sampled too many cheeses. But we were excited. For New Year’s Eve. For a brand new start.
I'm Kiran, I'm a dreamer. A writer. A singer. A mother. An ugly crier. An Indian-American. Who loves Gandhi. My stories are full of truth that is sometimes hard for me to say out loud. This blog is where I overcome my fears and live (and love) out loud.
Read More....
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