Asha was still a bun in the oven (2013), when we had moved from Chicago’s Gold Coast to our first home – a 3rd story walk-up condo in the city’s Logan Square neighborhood. It was the month of March (days before my due date), which if you know Chicago, is still the dead of winter.
With not much to do in that very pregnant state of mine, Devang and I would spend our evenings curled up on the couch watching The West Wing on Netflix. I had never seen the show before and quickly wondered how I had survived all those years without knowing it existed.
Devang would eventually go to bed after a couple of episodes, but Asha-the-bun and I would continue watching until the wee hours of the day. And I swear, every time that intro tune came on before each episode, she would start kicking around so hard that I could see my bump wiggling right in front of my eyes.
This in essence were my first dates with Asha. Just she and I, hanging out.
I was telling her this story yesterday when all three boys were out for a haircut. At almost 8-years-old, she claimed to remember kicking around at the sound of the music (which made me cry and laugh at the same time).
Mama, we need to go on our dates again, she quickly added. I couldn’t agree more.
All the while we were talking, we were also busy trying to organize a box full of pencil colors and markers which gets thrown around at least once a day mainly by the boys who love to color. None of the pencils had lead and I had a feeling that we had more dead markers than good.
I told her how as a kid, I had shared the same love for art supplies as she does now. How I could spend hours making things. How I loved sharpening pencils especially and then using the shavings to make flowers. We continued talking this way and swapping stories about our favorite things and people. And of course organizing that messy craft bin of ours.
This unexpected date with my first born was a reminder of how quickly time has passed. How much she has grown. How talking to her feels more like talking to a friend with each passing day. How I am just so lucky!
Ironically, The West Wing is going off Netflix this January 2021, and I haven’t made my peace with it yet!
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