One Evening Away From Everyday Life - Moms in Boston

 A few months ago, I asked the moms in our group a simple question:

“What would you want to do for yourself, your family, or your children as an activity?”

I took inventory of all the ideas and slowly started working on them — one event at a time. Boston Harbor Cruise was one of the choices many moms mentioned, and it stayed in the back of my mind for a long time. To be honest, it was an expensive proposition, and I was not even sure enough moms would join if I planned one.

Still, the idea sat on my list.
Every now and then, it would pop back into my mind.

A few weeks ago, I finally decided to give it a try.

Finding the right combination of date, timing, commute to Boston, and budget was not easy. I finally settled on the Boston sightseeing cruise.

Most families were busy with Duck tour celebrations on Saturday, so I thought maybe moms could take one evening out for themselves on the long weekend Sunday.

Planning began. A young mother in the group the responsibility for money collection and RSVP and parking arrangement. 

In the beginning, it was hard to imagine we could actually pull it off. Some moms were concerned about driving and commuting into Boston. Slowly, a few mothers offered to carpool, the date got finalized, the deposit was paid, and suddenly the plan became real.

And just like that, these 20 pairs of shoes took 20 moms out of their everyday grind and brought them to a Boston sightseeing cruise on a rainy evening. A perfect example of how, when you plan things, the weather sometimes adds another layer to your plans.

The original plan was to hang out outside the terminal and enjoy the waterfront before boarding. Instead, because of the rain, we gathered inside the Starbucks at Marriott Long Wharf and, for almost an hour, just hung out, made noise, laughed loudly, and took dozens of pictures like college girls meeting after years.

The moms came from 13 different towns. We had five carpools coming from different directions. Honestly, just organizing that itself felt like an achievement.

My whole idea was simple — we would do the cruise, maybe eat some snacks there, and everybody would head home.  The rain was disappointing, but it did not deter these mothers one bit. Everyone showed up dressed beautifully, carrying jackets, comfortable shoes, umbrellas, and the excitement of simply getting away for a few hours.

The cruise boarding got delayed because of the weather, but once we boarded, the mood completely changed.

We went to see a foggy Boston, barely paying attention to what the narrator was explaining. Instead, we took hundreds of pictures, laughed endlessly, made jokes, and simply enjoyed one another’s company. There were so many firsts that night.

There was a smaller crowd besides us, and the 20 of us slowly took over most of the ship. At one point, we formed a circle in the middle while the narrator continued giving history lessons to the rest of the passengers. Some moms stayed inside talking nonstop, some walked upstairs into the cold wind to take outdoor pictures, some grabbed drinks from the bar, and somehow we kept splitting into smaller groups and coming back together again.

Watching everyone so relaxed and carefree felt special.

When the cruise ended, nobody really wanted to go home. Only two moms left. The rest of us kept standing there asking,
“Now what?” Everyone wanted to stay for dinner.

At almost 8:45 at night, the race began to find a restaurant in Boston willing to take 18 women for dinner. One tavern was about to close and was supposed to take their last order at 9, but we walked in anyway with hope and a big request.

It turned out to be our lucky night.

The restaurant staff quickly rearranged tables, brought 18 seats together, cooked for us, welcomed us warmly.

And honestly, that dinner became one of the best parts of the evening.

Sitting around that long table under warm lights, sharing fries, salads, stories, laughter, and random conversations, it suddenly did not feel like an “event” anymore.

It felt like friendship.

Like belonging.

Like women finally pausing life for a few hours to breathe.

For those few hours, we were not only moms, wives, caregivers, chauffeurs, cooks, therapists, or problem-solvers.

We were just us.

It was heartwarming to watch these women do something they do not always get to do. Many of them came to Boston at night just for this gathering. Many stepped outside their routines and comfort zones to say yes to themselves for once.

These shoes have many stories to tell.
Stories of courage, friendship, freedom, healing, laughter, and women slowly finding themselves again. 

Boss Lady -thats what they call me- I kind of started liking this now. 

Boston Duck Tour: A Day of Joy, village, and Togetherness

Some events are planned on paper. Some are planned with heart.

And when 40 families, 140 people, and countless emotions come together, you realize how much courage it takes to simply dare to dream.

Planning any event for anybody other than your family is always a difficult task. You keep thinking about so many things, and when the event involves families with kids with different needs — it is always challenging.

Especially when it is in an enclosed environment where families have no freedom to leave in the middle of the event.

But unless you dream, how will you manage or do it?

So I dared to dream.

A Boston Duck Tour for families from Desi Mom’s Network.

There were lots of emails back and forth, phone conversations, reading reviews, checking maps, going through frequently asked questions, and finally, a day was set.

People signed up.

I was planning for two buses first, then three, and eventually added a fourth one. There were still families reaching out, but I realized that 140 was a good enough number.

After the Family Day celebration, I was determined not to take everything on myself, so I chose five mothers to volunteer along with three of the admins. Every bus had two people in charge.

They were given task lists a week before, sent materials to read in detail, and received detailed instructions again in a reminder the night before. I had already done the seat allocation in advance. Every bus had families from different towns.

Finally, the day came.

To my surprise, everything was perfect. People were there before time. It looked like everybody was excited.

These volunteer mothers did an amazing job taking pictures, posting in the group, and giving out name tags.

When we reached there, we took a group picture — or at least tried to capture 140 people in one frame.

It looked like a train station in India. Then the group leaders took pictures of each bus group. And then they took pictures of each family. They flawlessly executed my vision.

The real joy was seeing the kids excited, and I think the cupcakes and stickers I carried helped amplify that happiness.

The staff was amazing and grateful that everything was planned well. They did not have to worry about counting people because all 40 families already knew in advance which bus they were going on and who would be with them.

The tour started.

The kids enjoyed it, and so did the parents. Most of them were doing it for the first time — not with strangers, but with families who were just like them. As one mother put it, “We all are in the same boat.” The drivers and narrators were awesome on all the buses. The kids had an exciting time going from land to water and then steering the boat.

Most of the time, these kids are deprived of such opportunities, but today they had a great time. They were treated well, and parents could breathe easy because their kids were in a non-judgmental environment.

We got back to the Museum of Science. Some families hung out, some left, but we all ended the day with gratitude.

For a change, I am focusing not on what did not work well, but on everything that did.I am relieved and full of gratitude that everything worked out well.

The 40 families had a great time. The smiles on their faces and the hugs from those children are the only things I want to remember. At the end of the day, it was never really about the buses, the schedules, or the logistics. It was about belonging, laughter, shared experiences, and creating memories together. 

Dad decided to skip this event, but the boys were my plus-ones. Sadly, I don’t have any pictures with them. Something to fix at the next event :) They got to steer the boat so did the mom :) 

The Day It All Came Together - Family celebration day Saga continues

 The day of the event -I woke up with excitement, apprehension, and a sense of “hooray, finally the day is here.”

I went to the venue with two of my friends and a full car of stuff while the setup was going on. I learned another thing that day — you can write and design everything on paper, but it may not work that way on the actual day of the event.

I am so glad I reached early because I could reorganize some of the seating arrangements. We intentionally kept the center area free so kids could dance and gather there for the magic show.

I intentionally kept fewer chairs so people would mingle more, but families took out backup chairs from the storage and made space for themselves. A lot of families were meeting one another for the first time. One of my saree friends was at the registration table, and I joked that she met more people than I did in the entire hall.

Everybody had a name tag with the town they lived in and the age of their child.

I am sure many families left home not knowing what to expect from the day, how the day would unfold, or how their children would react to such a large crowd, but kudos to them — they all came.

We started with a very short welcome speech, some necessary precautions, bathroom information in case of emergencies, and then I invited two of my friends to speak. They gave very inspiring short speeches, and then a dad spoke. After that, I cut the cake surrounded by all the children around me. That was the most fascinating part — we all got to cut the cake together.

The magician came on board after that, followed by a smooth transition into dance. Two of my friends who teach dance volunteered their time and energy for us.

My son made a playlist, and we had 10 songs for nonstop dancing displayed on the screen. The kids, and even some grown-ups, only needed to follow what was being shown on the screen, so nobody was on their own. It was structured dancing, and that was the best part of the evening. Nobody needed to remember what to do — somebody was guiding them.

The day didn’t go exactly as planned, but it became something better — real, lived, and shared. And in that imperfect beauty, the event found its true meaning.

Between Chaos and Gratitude - Family Celebration Day saga

How different 24 hours can be. I went to bed with a sense of relief. Every part of my body was aching, I was exhausted beyond measure, my mind was replaying the whole day and telling me what went wrong, but the heart was happy—a different kind of joy, a satisfaction when you know whatever you’re doing is making a difference.

There will be so many stories and pictures how the event worked out: the parents’ version, the kids’ version, the performers’ version, and the volunteers’ version, and then Jaya’s version. I am too afraid to ask Mr. husband about his version.

Before I forget, I have to mention that he was there from end to finish, and that is the miracle in itself. I kept my promise, didn’t speak more than 10 lines, and he did so many things without even asking, no complaint. Only one thing he said later—find a venue on the ground floor, two sets of stairs are a little too much for helpers.

The day turned out to be a beautiful sunny day, women dressed up, kids happy and very patient photographers. The magician was amazing with kids, the face painters made the kids happy, and ending the day with the dance was such a promise to do it again.

I am grateful to people who went early in the morning with me to set up the hall, carried the day with me, brought water for me when I was all over the place, and stayed till the end to make sure things were in place.

I went back again when the cleaners were doing their magic. After seeing that, I was in a much better place—worth spending every penny.

I heard the food was wonderful. Next year I have to make sure I save some for myself or actually eat. Lesson learned, again—that’s progress.

We will work around the mistakes we made this year, find solutions for them, do more events, make them bigger, and make new mistakes.

It wasn’t a perfect day, but it was a meaningful one—and that feels like enough for now.

The morning