Parenting Pandemic

The 'Terrible Twos' they call it. Well, I have a feeling that the nomenclature is more along the alliterative lines rather than accuracy.

And am not speaking merely from the point of view of my own offspring alone. Have been seeing children closely for a while now and I honestly feel that having a child is whole different ballgame in real time vs the over-the-top glorified theoretical version.

Sure, you have books from world-renowned experts, child psychologists and other parents but no one ever tells you that there's a sense of ennui that comes in from parenting after a while. A sense of utter, complete frustration, vexation and a wish to scream AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH right into the winds and just purge yourself of the phenomenon that is your offspring.

Of course, we are the ones who are largely responsible for it. Children ape us, in things good and bad. Desirable and undesirable and while we keep hoping they'll grow up and reach the next milestone with rapid alacrity; the very next moment we keep ruing the day that they stop crawling and doing largely cute things.

I am by nature a lethargic person when the pressure builds up. Not always but when the tempos becoming a little too fast for me to keep up with it. A valve opens up, releases the urgency and I just fall into this lassitude which leads me to cop out from being a disciplinarian just so I can revel in some quiet, some peace and not having to run after a force of nature who cannot and will not be bottled!

So after a harried and hurried discussion with Red late last night where I was spewing venom, feeling guilty, thinking of drowning my sorrow in a single malt or two (or three) I decided that the era of soft-touch parenting has to be tempered down and a new era of tough-love mommyism has to be ushered in.

What is tough-love mommyism? Well it doesn't mean you send your kid to a boot camp and turn them into a ruthlessly efficient grunt! It is more along the lines of doing what is truly the best thing for the child and not letting them develop too many crutches that hinder you, them and basically you from doing your daily parenting stuff.

Case in point: My child watches t.v. when he has his meals. No rocket science required to decipher that his meals are kind of stretched out and during the times of power cuts his mouth curiously refuses to open to admit food or his jaws refuse to chew to allow aforementioned food into gullet. It was convenient to feed him with a bit of kiddy program playing. But he causes a riot without it, that's the mucho biggo problemo!!

And substituting television for something else just causes the crutch to shift onto another object rather than neutralizing it once and for all.

The thing with smallish kids (2-4) age groups is that they're usually the sole one around at home. They are either in day care for a while or at home with their mothers. And after a while it really is easier on everyone to let them have their own way. And children see it happening day after day and notice the pattern. Once the pattern is established they just go about setting forth those conditions which allow for the privileges of TV, toys, candies out of turn.

Since it's available without too much fussing, and there's no real sense of having to acquire it, kids are able to Pavlov their parents into giving them what they want. Ergo, the onus and fault rests squarely on us to help them understand that there are boundaries and there will also be consequences to their actions if those boundaries are repeatedly breached.

Sounds very bad ass but it's not. Who else will ever care that the child is well-behaved, moderately obedient and capable of adjusting in most kinds of situations but the parent? And that has to start from home.

Let them cry for a bit. Be a rock. Immovable if need be. Corporal punishment is something I'm personally uncomfortable with and disciplining the child physically leaves me with way too much negativity to indulge in it again and again.

Like with all things, consistency is the name of the game with kids till they really are old enough to make their own value judgements. We got them to sleep on their own, eat their mushed carrots and peas, got them toilet trained with unfailing consistency so why not on this issue?

Do you know why this blog post took place today? So the next time I find myself responding like Pavlov's dogs to my kid's metaphorical bell ringing, I can refer to this and straighten my spine and take back what's rightfully mine- peace of mind, sanity (some amount of it at least) and have a better behaved child who'll get more rewards for being a doll.  I hope.

Sufferin' Succotash!!

Sylvester the Cat has it down pat! Although I'd take any other kind of grub too. 
My head feels like it's full of Fruit Loops ever since the offspring commenced his second year and Toucan Sam's pecking at my skull trying to get at them. Over and over and over again.


Of all the things to have a no-return policy on, I think life's dealt parents a very rough hand by letting them get stuck with their kids for life.

Of course if we have to return the little imps, the question arises, where on earth would we send them to. If we can't /don't (want) to handle them any further...where else would they go?

After having given the notion a lot of thought, and I mean a LOT; I've come to realise that it's a hypothetical situation at best and an out and out fantasy at worst, I have no other option but to invoke the Pied Piper and hope that he leads the little munchkins away to a Land That Leads To R&R For The Parents ergo college! Kidding.

But I honestly have to say that nothing really prepares you for having a child and you're in even hotter water when that child starts exercising his or her opinions, invokes their Right to Freedom of Speech, Expression and their most favorite one- the Right to Gather wherever the hell they feel like for a demonstration aka tantrums!!

Grandparents (especially grandmothers) are zero help since they gleefully remind you of how you did things along the same lines, or you painted on the walls of their rented homes, spilled and splayed paint on the mucho important office files that your father used to get back home and all-embarrassing tobacco gulping incident that you indulged in as a toddler and then barfed all over a letter your mother was writing to her mother.

Siiiiigh.

It's best to just hand over the iPad that YOU got for Mother's Day and let them sit in one place and punch through the screens while you look askance at your co-passengers shaking their heads at you and your darling offspring and silently muttering, "just wait till your turn comes, you putz! we'll see about head-shaking then!!"

Over and OUT!

These are a few of my favorite things indeed!

I am not a sybaritic person by any stretch of the imagination but I DO like my comfort. After a rare (and I mean rare!!!) dinner out with MLM in tow, I came home and crashed and luxuriated in the feel of the soft mattress. It's just right...all foam and not as undulating as a water bed is but without the resistance of a coir mattress and I sleep bestnon it. Although I can pretty much sleep anywhere if I'm tired enough. I have a problem getting rid of old familiar things, especially old clothes. They make fantastic dusters and pochhaas but that apart, does anything feel as good as a tee shirt that's years old and soft like you wouldn't believe? It may be torn in places but somehow that just adds to it's charm. So it's not really old per se...it's tres vintage! There's also the feel of the 'just-right' hair brush. It caresses your scalp and at the same time untangles. Sometimes I've got so carried away with combing my hair while I think something through that by the time I' done my hair's standing all around my head like an electrified halo and then I'm stuck with the job of smoothing it down :o) I have a big-toothed brush that's ideal for wet hair post a shampoo but I swear my scalp responds to it otherwise also! Then there are those slippers you can no never manage to throw away although all thr color and even the logo's got scrubbed off it...but then again, that's me. These are small things when you stop and think about it. Very small things. You're so used to them that you. Don't stop and think about it at all but they add to your comfort and they maybe some of the things that you're most attached to despite them being as inanimate possible. And thank goodness for them!

Ol' MacDonald Had A What??!

Kids usually like animals. Love them even. They tend to like some over the others. As do we all. And then they also tend to juxtapose their likes onto each other and end up create a new landscape which can often rival Lewis Carroll's Wonderland.

 Now my son hasn't come up with a new Jabberwocky but he's decided that Ol' MacDonald needed to breathe some new life into his decades old farm because horses and pigs just weren't cutting it any more. So he added some tigers, lions (apparently both these majestic beings sit up like a Buddha, make tiny little paws and say "AAARRHH".
 Then came the zebras, the monekys, snakes, giraffes, elephants, yaks, fishes and transformed a once rustic farm into the San Diego Zoo.

 Ok. Zoo in place. Now what? Now we need to holler at everyone that we have a farm (read zoo) and let them know how our animals sound. By the way, I forgot we have camels too!
Well, we got the tigers' and lions' growls down pat but what do we do about the giraffes and zebras who are notorious for keeping their mouths shut and not wreck the peace like the rowdy lions? Well combining snorts,smacks and other odd sounds we come up with a cacophony that satisfies even the toughest customer aka tots who don't watch Animal Planet!
 And now that the sound check is complete and the farm is a grade A jungle any self respecting person would think twice about going into, 
the master of this creation announces he'd rather watch Chhota Bheem! Well...I guess we'll just leave the tigers and the moos to play nice till next time :-)

Ahoy Dholakpur!!

If Harry Potter were real...

My life would be mucho different.

Here's how-

1. I'd Accio my kid every time he tried to get away from me. For that matter, I'd always have every pair of sock that I bought for him. Red wouldn't need to ask me about where his glasses, wallet, mobile, socks, inners and everything else under the sun was!!
2. Locked bathroom doors and the fear of my child slipping and falling on wet tiles would be taken care of by Alohomora.
3. I'd Colloportus my closet doors and every other door that small, persistent hands try to open on a daily basis.
4. All the autowalas would suffer a few Imperios and Crucios every time they side swipped me on the road or cut in.
5. All sharp edges and corners and not to mention all sorts of things attractive to a child would be covered under Deletrius.
6. My child would definitely face an Impedimenta  or Imobulus since he's equal to a herd of charging rhinos!
7. I'd Apparate and Dissaparate out of malls and supermarkets and not have to worry about standing in check out lines. I'd leave moolah for the cashier so no worries of me turning into a bandito!
8. I'd use Reparo on every damn broken thing- mainly toys and quite a few of my things as well that a marauding baby showed no mercy on.
9. I'd be able to use Sonorus without feeling the effect of it the next day. And even if I did, I'd Episkey myself all better!
10. If nothing else, I'd Wingardium Leviosa myself above the clutter of life and just float by while everyone else went into goldfish mode seeing me!

If only...for now I'll keep wishing for the Mirror of Erised :-/

Losing Track of Time

I must have mentioned it here and there, a few gadzillion, times how I lose track of time ever since MLM arrived.

There are mornings when I tell Red how a particular night was and he'll respond saying it was not the previous night but a few nights ago. Or he'll talk about how long it took for MLM to sleep or how his antics were but I'd have no recollection because I was knocked out!

My nighttime sleep has never been deeper. Even if its in bits and pieces but it's almost like I've been drugged; am so languorous.

The other way I keep track of days is by who goes out of the house. As long as Red and MLM are out of the house it's a weekday/ workday.
So when MLM's summer camp sent a note saying Saturday would be a working day for me it felt like a proper weekday to my mind.

That's why I woke up this morning thinking it's a Sunday and I can sleep till either one of those two get up and wake me up with their chatter. Instead I find it's a Monday. I have only an hour before I wake MLM up for summer camp- today's splash pool day...yay! and basically am left with a feeling of having had only one day of weekend to enjoy :-p

No one likes being jipped of a weekend. Even if it's just an erroneous feeling it still makes you grumpy in the morning. My Monday morning just became extra sour.

Now I just need to find someone to rant at and all will be well again!

Euphemisms

Webster defines euphemism as-the substituion of an agreeable or inoffensive expression for one that may offend or suggest something unpleasant; also: the expression so substituted.

My mother is rather good at being euphemistic. My father rarely bothers; he prefers being blunt. After she soft-pedaled on her judgement on dinner and breakfast last night and this morning I got thinking of the ways that people communicate their euphemisms. They're usually followed by expressive facial gestures. Or in the case of my father- a rather dry tone which highlights his sardonicism.
Here are some fairly recurrent ones that I've come across.

What they say Vs What they can "actually" mean:

• What an interesting color! = Why not go for a normal color? This one belongs on a circus tent, not your face.
• Such pretty eyes (after surveying the baby/person for 2-3 minutes)= The eyes are the only things I could think of complimenting. The rest is too bizarre for me to put words to.
• What a lively child! = If your kid was any more hyper the Met department would classify him/her as a typhoon.
• That's a very abstract picture, wow!= What the hell is that damn thing anyways? Why can't people draw cows and flowers that looks like cows and flowers?
• He/she's going to be very smart, I can tell (after seeing a slightly large head on a child)= If that kid had a bigger head, he/she would start pinging on radars!
• Mmm...I've never tasted anything like this before. Interesting=  Why do you bother to experiment?!! Stick to stuff you know, better yet, order in.
• Sure, It's nice. I (big pause) like it. Sure=  Am pausing...get the drift. I hate it!
• Wow..look at the time, has it really been that long? = Jesus Christ!! I thought I was going to die there and still have to sit through that crap.
• Well this has been fun= Yup! just like being operated upon without anesthesia is a bowl of laughs.
• I'll blog again...really soon= Sure I will. Just as soon as my dearly-beloved-child-sleeps-if-he-sleeps-oh-god-please-let-him-sleep-or-I'll-give-him-a-sedative!

Adventures in Pickle Making

When I was in a mental damadol (slang for dilemma) about whether I should stick the offspring into day care and get back to working full-time, I realized that being at home is a DEMANDING job!
No hikes, no bonuses, criticisms (from self, spouse AND PARENTS) about things not done well and constant awareness of area of improvements etc and the malicious list goes on and on and the cows NEVER come home!

Be as that may, there's usually something or the other that requires to be done at home. And to keep up with all that's a MUST-DO there are somethings I like to do that's just for fun. Like make mango chutney/pickle!

It IS summer, there ARE mangoes and I love the sweet-taut taste of the stewed mangoes with parathas and puris. Ahh puris. 
A moment on the lips and a lifetime on the hips and everywhere else :-(

Anyways, I got totapuri mangoes and added all the stuff I thought would taste good. I say thought because this is a maiden venture into this sphere. I am not your run-of-the-mill home maker. I can't sew worth a damn. 
They look like the lopsided creepy stitches Frankenstein put on his monster 
and making sweets is best done from a mix that just requires either water, milk or sugar as my contribution in it's execution.

When I set curd it turns out differently each time. It's either like cream cheese, or an iceberg (floating on a thin layer of water) or sometimes I hit the jackpot and it's creamy, smooth and thick! Of course my son says 'yummy' to all of them and makes me happy. His father goes through his usual gamut of expressions viz eyes open, eyes opened wide or eyes shut in disbelief/annoyance/disgust.


Back to the pickle- I suddenly felt that I wasn't channeling Martha Stewart's spirits enough into my life and started by making mango pickle from scratch. I burnt the jaggery when I went to make sure MLM was sitting on the pot and not watering the bathroom floor instead. And I came back to see... a black, toxic sludge with noxious fumes that were worthy of the title- BIOHAZARD!!

Other goofs? I probably didn't put enough salt. Probably stewed the life out of it but am I still trying to pat myself on the back (and not pull a muscle at the same time)? You betcha!
Because I chucked the sludge into the garbage and immediately set out with more chunks of jaggery that I melted and then tossed marinating mango chunks in.

Next step- embroidery. NOT!

Parenting Bugbear

Call me opinionated (most people do) but I quite dislike people telling me how to parent or intervening (and sometimes interfering) with my modes of parenting. What I especially dislike is anyone countermanding my authority where my child is concerned. Red and I make it a point to disagree as little as possible on issues pertaining to MLM, especially in front of him. Minor issues are different but if one of us in disciplining him, the other stays neutral as far as possible. We try not to dump on him at the same time unless it's an important issue.

Getting back to what raises my hackles, is people who play little or no role in helping me parent on a day-to-day telling me how to go about being a parent or getting in the way of reinforcing a particular behavior or trying to weed out something undesirable.

I don't claim to know what's best for my child every single moment, but given the fact that I'm the primary care-giver I do believe that my actions stem from what will benefit him the most given his tender age and limited comprehension of the world around him.

What annoys me to no end is the extent to which people will jump in to shield a child from the wrath of a parent even though the ire is not a displacement and is justified in toto. What's the worst that can happen if a small child's feelings get hurt? They'll cry? Throw a tantrum? Refuse food for a bit till they're mollified and even bribed to bring about a better mood?
But if admonishments are left on the side simply keeping a child's age in mind, how will a parent know when their offspring is old enough to comprehend where their parents are drawing the line?

I know it's the rarest of rare parent who lose their temper on an infant or a baby who just lies there gurgling away or playing with their toes. It's only when the children get in the way of something important or worse, put themselves in harms way that parents get worried. And worry manifests itself as anger many a times because seeing a child hurt is one of the worst things for a parent to go through. I remember once when I needed multiple shots on both ears lobes (I'd given into my curiosity of wearing maha dangling earrings which clanged like cow bells but were cheaper than cheap!) and I was wincing at the insect sting-like feeling but seeing my mother wince at each jab distracted me to no end!
She still can't help but flinch if I need to give a blood sample. And I'm hardly a child. Only in her mind though.

But getting back to why I'm so thin-skinned where my parenting skills are commented upon, it's pretty simple- I don't want kudos. If my child is happy, all's well with my world. Really. Sounds utopian but it's not. Ask any parent who's stayed up nights with a child with something simple like a stuffy nose and you'll have your answer. Let them be brats of the first order but let them be healthy. That's all.
But being a parent calls for plenty of adjustments. You adjust to your body being even more out of whack than it ever was before. You adjust to intense pain-epidurals or not. You adjust to hormonal upheavals (am including men who have to live through their wives post-partum blues) that come and go as they bloody well please. You adjust to being the constant companion of a blubbering, cooing, peeing, pooping, spitting-up little person who you end up loving more than you can ever hope or be able to express. But you also end up putting on hold a large part of who you were before you became a parent. I don't just mean for those parents who stay at home.

Being a parent first takes some doing and you're never entirely prepared for many moments. It's never an auto-pilot kinda thing. Except diapering and knowing when to duck when the pee streams out at you but levity aside, it takes so much more than patience and love. It's takes a whole different dimension of you as an individual to do what you have to do, day in and day out. And in the midst of all that, when along comes someone and just whips out advice or steps in where they ought to at least ask first...it's a bit difficult to swallow.
I'd rather those helpful individuals ask me to sit for a bit, tell me go have a drink of water, wash my face while they keep an eye on an extremely active, lovable, annoying (from time to time) child and then tackle the situation.

Word of caution: never tell a mother who's yelling at her child not to yell. She's most likely to turn into a fire-breathing dragon and make you her target instead. Good for the kid who gets a reprieve but hell for you :-)
I usually nod and look sympathetic when I come across such situations. I wouldn't want to be in anyone's cross hairs the way I don't want anyone in mine.

Posts from the Past- Part III

There are elements that add to how successful a vacation will end up being.
It's a venture, in my eyes, like many others; especially with a small child in tow.

The accommodation, weather, amenities of the place you're staying in, the other people along with you (whether known or strangers) and very important is the number of days you end up staying.
See, the number of days is the deal clincher or deal breaker as it many be. You stay too few days and you're left with a feeling of having eaten too little and hunger pangs gnaw at you all the way back home. And stay too long, well it's almost tantamount to not only having eaten your fill but overeaten and not wanting to walk past food for some more time to come.

The resort we're still in is really well planned in every manner possible. And I'm not saying that just for the nanny service they have on offer. It has provisions for the different age groups, different types of people altogether.

For those whom relaxation spells spa treatment and putting their feet up and being inert, this place is aces. Your credit card will get burn marks but you only live properly on holidays, right?
For those who can sit still,for those who need the music, the cold brewskies at the end of a splash et al there's a whole different set-up included. Now before I end up sounding like their ambassador, let me get back to the actual focus of the blog post- optimum number of days to stay on a vacation.

Keeping in mind the make-up of the vacation party (in our case parents and child) it's best to do what is convenient for most. Little children, though, they seem to be perfectly at ease and gambolling about, usually get uncomfortable being away from their home before long. The changes get manifested in disturbance in sleeping patterns, fluctuation in their food intake and overall behavior. They may not be whinny or moody but even a fun place isn't home filled with their familiar odds and ends.

But looking back at other trips/visits we've taken with our little man, Red and I have come to a conclusion: we need to make a pool an integral part of our lives. Apart from the fun part of it all, the way this side so naturally takes to water is a thrill to behold.
With his little legs busy pedalling away underwater, he reminded me of that little duck from the Tom&Jerry cartoons.

Now I need to wind up because there's some packing left and I can't wait to be home either!

Posts from the Past- Part II

My son is apparently a water bug. Phew! That's a relief. I didn't want to be the only water-loving-nut in the family.

Red can take it or leave it w.r.t swimming pools and beaches and given a choice would choose a mountain to go vacation in. But I just can't get enough of water.
That isn't to say I'd vacation in a tsunami-prone place.
One of the nights we were in Maldives, I slept out of the deck of the cottage and the sea was swishing beneath. I was trying to imagine a massive wall of water gradually growing larger and larger and just bearing down in the dark and blocking out the moon.
Scary.

And no, I wasn't a few pegs down then but I made sure I did down a few after that less than encouraging moment bang in the middle of my dream vacation!

Anyhow, to get back to my son, the H20-loving monkey, his glee and degree of comfort in the water just amazes me and fills me with joy. He is entirely in his element. That bit also is reinforced when we take him out of the pool and he screams mass genocide. See, screaming bloody murder is something he left behind when he turned 2.
He has truly progressed in life *makes a wry face*.

I would like him to properly learn to swim and get rid of those floaters. I guess seeing him frolic in water will be the realization of my own untranspired-Esther-Williams-wannabe dreams :-)
Here are some glimpses of the waterbaby-

Posts from the Past- Part I

I turned a year old yesterday. I've long stopped expecting to turn wiser. Never happens when I need it to kick in anyhow :-(
Red made plans to stay in a resort about 2 hours drive from home. With traffic, a squirmy kid in the back seat 
 ( who was pleading to be let out 'peeease) during long waits at signals and my grumbling about us never stopping long enough at places for me to take 'interesting' snapshots- it was a relief to finally pull up at the reception of a place that had actually begun to feel like it was in a different state altogether!

Red opted for a bit more comfort this time as compared to our Goa trip and one which has more activities for MLM. But the moment the grand entry was made into the room, the monkey spotted the outdoor splash pool

 and forgot everything else.
I could practially hear the Halleluahs going off all around his head as the angels sang and the heralds harked.
Gross exaggeration? I think not. Kids love water. Check. Kids love places where they feel comfortable and in control of their immediate surroundings. Check! So when MLM found an MLM-sized water body just 2 steps from the room, he waited no longer and stripped off and got his float out and got into the water! Although he didn't care much for the waterfall that could also be turned on and off in the pool.

Red and I ran about taking care of more prosaic things like getting towels, making sure there were clothes for him to wear when he got out and the AC was turned off so his goosebumps didn't get goosebumps of their own.

The room is just right.  
Red termed in beautifully in calling it 'measured perfection'. Now perfection differs from perception to perception and is fairly hard to find because our notions of it changes like the weather.

We'd vacationed in Maldives on Red's 29th. It was unfettered perfection. We didn't know what to do and what not to do. Should we sit on the beach all day long and just watch the waves? Did that.
Should we step out of our cottage and into the shallow pools below where tropical fish gathered at all times of day and night? Did that too.
Should we walk along white sands and just get into a gooey romantic moment with wispy white tents pitched for our comfort and white wine served to get us buzzed into 'la la land'? Check!!
Maldives was an assault on the senses and I for one, went for overkill because I knew it was most likely to be a one-off thing. I lived a bacchanalian life those 5 days and it's become a dream vacation.


But the place we're staying now is very normal indeed. But it caters to almost everything we need now as parents. An eating joint for kids (which we'll try for lunch today) that serves only kiddy food or they make it the way we want them to. A babysitting service (AMEN! AMEN! AMENN!!) and a kiddy play area 




segregated by age as well as the run of the mill slides and swing sets all located conveniently nearby or motor able courtesy those puttering golf carts. Again, that's something we'll try in a bit.


We had a great breakfast, let MLM whoop his way down the slide  
 
and laugh like a loon and then...we hit the big pool. There was another family with kids slightly older than MLM and they'd been in the water longer than him. Naturally he felt compelled to cannonball into the water along with them as well.
So there we were, Red playing lifeguard, MLM with his Nemo hand floats and me, a 30-something woman floating around lazily with my kid's Mickey Mouse tube ring. Truly perfection. 






After the optimum time had been spent splashing about in the pool viz fingers had begun to prune and MLM had drunk enough of water to sputter it up, we decided to head back to the room.

Now, I'm drafting out the blog post. Red's reading the paper and MLM's watching his Oswald cds on the Home Theater system in our room.

I could really, really, REALLY get used to this :-)

Sybaritically Yours,

Ms.Self-Indugent

Zzzzz? No?

The human body needs sleep. Rest primarily, but sleep aids in the rest better than just being prone and twiddling your thumbs. Sleep refreshes, straightens out the kinks and restores vigor. Or so they say.

Cut to the scene unfolding in my house of late- we have a child who swings between extremes. He will either not sleep (for some reason that he chooses to keep to himself) or will sleep like he's giving Rip Van Winkle a run for his money.
We have a baffled and increasingly irate mother as well, the reasons here are entirely tied up with the main protagonist mentioned above.

I know some kids are big sleepers. Some are able to function relatively well on catnaps or short periods of dozing but for a child to want to stay up because he doesn't want to miss out on things going on around him was a new one even for me.

Barring the 1st day and a half after his birth I found that my child had a thing against sleeping. Which is a pity because I like him most while he's asleep :) but jokes apart, he can push himself to stay awake till the sleepy feeling leaves him entirely. After that sleep only comes due to utter fatigue. It never comes under coercion or bribes. Ever.

Often after Red has put him down for the night and we've heaved silent sighs of immense relief at Operation Beddy bye having gone off without a hitch, we hear a nice, clear, loud voice sound out. He calls out a few times and unless he's absolutely sure about us having conked off, he keeps calling out knowing an irritated father or mother will admonish him leading to communication lines being established again. The most amusing and annoying thing that he says to us at the time however is, "O to shleep (go to sleep)."

On the days when he shares our bed for majority of the nights and is in a rather chatty frame of mind, we get treated to nursery rhymes, endless chants, and our names getting called over and over and over again. This happens on weekends, especially in the mornings when we're having a lie in and he's up& at 'em in toto! He starts to stick fingers up our noses to see if not breathing helps us awaken up faster.
If that doesn't work, he resorts to playing dirty and slobbery kisses land on us. He mimics the tones I use on him to get him up for school. And mimics them very well indeed.

I think the reason that kids resist sleep is because either they have a higher threshold for fatigue or because whatever other activity they're into is stimulating them waay too much for the sleep to hit their radars. By the time they do conk off, they conk off good and wake up absolutely refreshed because they'd have slept through and through. The only problem with that scenario is the timing of it all.

A kid who doesn't nap during the day and plays straight through till the evening usually conks off just before dinner time. Any parent who has a sleepy kid will tell you *how* tough it is to get any food into them at that point. Barring a food tube down their gullet, they seldom open their mouths for even an occasional bottle, they are so deep in sleep. Getting some solid food into them is impossible. Waking them up to do the deed is madness and should be avoided unless you are dressed like Robocop and can repel all the offensives that your kid will surely launch on your body for waking them up.
Surprisingly though, despite they'll be zombies that at point, they land their kicks and blows on all the areas designed to bring you down. Hard.

Now, after you have been battered black and blue, the child might just have rolled over to catch up on the rest of the sleep or even worse, might be awake and whining or so sluggish you feel like you'll have to guide their steps all the way. Given the time of day that this happens, it's best to let them sleep it off because an extensively sleepy child gets into more accidents and can cause your BP to zoom up into the stratosphere as well. And within a few seconds. And without trying much.

What is absolutely essential is the parent(s) getting rest when the child is down for the count. It doesn't have to be sleep. But just rest. You never know if your child has completed his or her quota of sleep by 2 in the morning and wants to recite 'Chubby cheeks' at the top of their lungs while lying in their cot or next to you.
That kind of a scene never ends well.
Neither can you throw them out of the window (they have bars. Usually), you've already checked and the mute button was missing in the model they handed you at the hospital, and you're so sleepy that your child usually is able to lead you straight into Mommy mode on auto-pilot and have you croak along with him all while you snooze away.

So, try your best to induce sleep in your child. Encourage them to like it even. If nothing else works then use the Vulcan nerve pinch and look as innocent as possible :)

Theatrical Milestone

Yesterday marked the culmination of MLM's school's Annual Day function, after nearly a month of practising and God only-knows what kind of experiences for the faculty and staff.

I was thoroughly tickled to find out that he was going to play a Gummy bear and that too in costume. Since Gummybears have been watched and devoured by me and my ilk since our school days, it was an amusing notion that the offspring was going to be one for his debut performance.

Till the time we sat in the venue, it never occured to me that he might experience stage fright. My child isn't the brightest bulb in the box nor the most adventureous but I've never really known him to cry because of an unfamiliar experience or substance. Right from his infancy, he's just taken himself away from the situation that didn't catch his fancy or didn't provide the adequate amount of comfort.

And the program was everything a program of such young people is expected to be- funny, cute, bumbling, some errors here and there and not entirely to script all the way through. And that's USP for making it great!

There were 3 categories of children:

1) Those who'd understood, remembered, recalled and performed the skit the way it was taught. They ranged from the slightly older kids to even the play group ones who were just supposed to swing with the beats and twirl.

2) Those who came in and had fun and just did their own thing irrespective of beats and others around them. Happy to report that MLM belongs to this category. He isn't one for too much of structure and systematic functioning.

3) Those who were cast into the limelight a bit prematurely and had to face our glowing eyes and camera flashes in the dark; it wasn't a fun experience for them sadly.

It's a massive undertaking to have a child to begin with. If you're lucky, you can have a balance of a lively kid with one who sleeps and eats in a manner that fits into your existing life patterns. But to plan a skit full of songs, dances, costumes and 110 kids...that's just being a glutton for punishment and hoping and praying that the patience of Job is available 100 times over.
But that's the beauty of people who opt to work with kids. You don't necessarily have to love them to death but you do have to enjoy it to a large extent else you're apt to go bald from tearing your hair out in frustration and get a lumpy head from all the times you'll bang it against the wall.

And trust me, children can be infuriating. Their innocence, lack of comprehension and utter carefree outlook is so at odds with what we know and how we end up living; that it's a life-long task to keep them safe, teach them everything we feel they ought to know about and still make sure they end up being happy individuals.
Patience, above and beyond everything else, helps in this endeavor. Maybe it's a patience borne out of love but at the end of the day I find you can love your child endlessly but not really always like them minute on minute.

Last night's event was a milestone in my life. My child got up on stage in front of a darkened room full of people, with strong lights all around him, loud music and he remained happy, bouncy and enjoyed himself thoroughly.
He got his name in a souvenir (that I plan to stick in a scrapbook as soon as I can find one) and that's going to be a memory for me even if it doesn't end up being significant for him when he grows up.

As your kids grow up (yes, even at the ripe old age of almost 3 years), you grow with them. You see them take in their surroundings, deal with it to the best of their abilities and see facets that you may not always see on the home front. They amaze you with the depth of their expressiveness and also their resilience.
That, cheekiness is a constant factor in all this hardly merits a mention, eh?

Watching my son yesterday I was thinking far ahead and going into the dangerous territory that parents usually wander (and wonder) into- 'the future of their child'. I was actually anticipating more performances from him, more fun and who knows? maybe even a love of theater even if it's restricted to his formative years and not a life-long passion.

Parents can dream, can't they? And usually the child fulfills them. In their own way and in their own measure. For now am reliving a the images of a silky brown kid with whiskers and big ears, jumping around on the stage, dancing to his own tune :)

Can't Say No To Comics!

To the funnies that is.
It can't be easy to squeeze out the essence of your funny bone onto a small strip that appears in a fairly smallish size and print in newspapers for people to devour, while they get their daily fix of the printed word.

Whatever else I do go through in the paper, I never miss the comics. It can end up making a difference in a day where otherwise smiles may be hard to come by.

For me, the characters represent a lot of familiarity, fun, memories and of course, the levity's a given. Not that each strip is a rip roaring laugh-inducer. But it does bring with it a host of characters that one can probably associate a lot of other instances in their lives with.

I was in India for the first eight years of my life and was in abroad for the next 4 years after that. And many things in the comics (all the foreign ones are syndicated throughout the world) remind me of my first exposure to aspects which were baffling or alien earlier.

In the late eighties in India, in most cities, a different cuisine would by default be Chinese food. I didn't even know there were different provinces in China, which also influenced the taste of their food. Same as in any country, but when you're 8, life's kind of blinkered with a kid's preoccupation. I remember going for a Mexican food festival with a friend of my father's in Delhi long back. The food was unfamiliar, now I can't recollect if it was cooked in a typical Mexican fashion either; but all I could remember was that I was wishing for noodles. They were and still are the ultimate comfort food.

To get back to the comics- I got introduced to Garfield soon after we landed in US. Whether through the newspapers or the cartoons on t.v but his obsession with sleeping, droll manner and teasing Odie sure appealed to a F.O.T.B (fresh off the boat) Indian kid. The only thing I didn't get was the lasagna (a word which isn't pronounced anywhere near what it reads like!). Once I joined school and actually had a lasagna for lunch I could put an image to Garfield's obsession. And over time my mother made enough of homemade lasagnas to make me appreciate it and drool over it much like Garfield. Although I still can't eat an entire panful like he does :-)

Snoopy or rather Woodstock was well known. But their gang wasn't. When I was a tot, a colleague of my father had come home and brought a wind up Woodstock for me. I don't know when I wound it too tight till the spring snapped and Woodstock stopped hopping about, but he remained a fixture in our home for decades and was unfailingly packed despite all the stuff we discarded during all our transfers to various places.
I went to school I found Peanuts books everywhere! Peanuts had their own Halloween and Christmas special on t.v as well and the characters often were used to endorse good habits children should embody, in various scholastic campaigns et al.
So Charlie Brown's good grief, Lucy's counselling for a nickel and Linus' blanket all became a part of my life. So much so, that when I first started taking piano lessons, I thought of Schroeder. He was the only person I knew of who did the same.

Over the years more comics have got added to my list- Hagar the Horrible (who I still associate with the awful root beer that the character used to advertise on tv), Beau Peep (the mad cook Egon who's indefatigable and is a lovable slovenly slob and whose creativity I crave in the kitchen!!), Dennis the Menace (like whom my son gets timeouts where he has to face the wall) and many more.

I remember the boys in my class passing around their Marvel Comics and I asked for one and was given the Wolverine issue. Love it to this day! Hugh Jackman just made him even more flesh and blood over time.

The thing with growing up with a particular thing; in this case a comic strip is far more meaningful than just the familiarity aspect. I can chart out my life and many milestones once I think back on the entry of comics in my life. And now with the entry of Noddy and Oswald I have new memories with MLM and in time I'll introduce him to a food-loving fat cat, a baseball playing gang which never wins, a Viking who hates housework and a school going boy with a fantastic image of himself (which only he's privy too) and have him go down this road too.

But till then, it's the funny papers and a cuppa joe for me.

Pimps 'R' Us

Well, not us. But they abound! Have you noticed? Barring the touts who tout the oldest profession, pretty much anyone can pimp. There are booze pimps who trawl the streets after the mandatory curfews are in place. They know just how to find you. Even though you may not know if the chappy is just another guy taking an extra slow night stroll or not. But he knows you. He can spot you a mile away!

The latest kind of pimp I've run into are the gym pimps. They sidle up to you while you're gasping for breath on the treadmill. They creep up close while you're cycling away the cellulite and they also call you to tell you let's take it up close and personal via the personal trainer mode.

I can understand that people have a job to do but my recent run-ins with a few of the trainers at the gym left me a bit irritated. One thing I absolutely detest is being interrupted for faltoo stuff when I'm reading. I was in the middle of a legal thriller a few days back while on the cross step machine and this unctuous guy comes close and talks to me about how he hasn't seen me around for a while. Now I know that mine and his timings don't coincide so I tell him it's because I don't usually turn up at nights and come in the mornings instead.
Our conversation went something like this after that-
 Me: why what?
Gym Pimp (GP): why don't you come in the evenings?
Me: not convenient
GP: why today?
Me: convenient
GP: when do you normally gym?
Me: mornings
GP: when?
Me: when it's convenient.
GP: where do you work?
Me: I'd like to get back to my reading please. Gasp. Huff. Puff.
GP: That's a book?!!!
Me: Kind of.
GP: Which tablet?
Me: Kindle.
GP: ???Kaun sa?
Me: Huffing. Boss, you can read books on it. Thanks. Got to get back to my cardio. And I walk over the treadmill. After 2 mins.
GP: What are you reading?
Me: Sonnets from the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
GP: after a long pause...you want a personal trainer?
Me: No.
GP: Why? You don't have to come everyday. Only when you want and I'll also come that time and help you lose weight and do tone ups like I did for X,Y,Z...(gets cut off)
Me: Not possible.
GP: Let me know. I do good personal training. That CD that's playing now (Backstreet Boys Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely comes on) I chose it so people can get affected more during gymming.
Me: Yeah..am really affected by that song *roll eyes*
GP: You like it? Thanks! Bin Tere Sanam is next.
Me: Yeah ok. Hey I have to go. Bye.
GP: Ok, I'll be here. Call me. I'll can come in the mornings also. G'nite. Enjoy yourself.
Me: yeah,yeah whatever. *mumble* whack job kya bh****panti shuru kiya hai!

GP: Hi Madam. Wow! you did 20 minutes on the treadmill. I can help you...(to the hapless woman who took up my treadmill).

Grrr!

I am touchy just like anyone else who has a small tornado (read child), hormonal upheavals, not enough sleep and who hasn't been pampered in ages.
And these are the people who make me sharpen my fangs and claws even more-

• The gas delivery guy who came to deliver a new cylinder at my neighbor's house. He LEANED on my bell ( I have a wireless bell outside the entrance to apartment's corridor and a doorbell). When I opened the door I found a shifty-eyed boy lugging the cylinder in front of my neighbor's door. When I asked him if he rang my bell, he replied as if he had marbles in his mouth and said, "Hindi nahin". So I asked him in Telugu and pointed at my bell. Surely that was clear enough. Nope! He mentioned my neighbor's apartment # and said he thought my bell was theirs instead. Of course he did! everyone has their bell on the opposite wall to their house where the apartment number and name of the occupants of the OTHER house is also written. But the dimwitted glaze in his eyes just did me in! I told him not to do it in the future. He again mumbled with those marbles that live permanently in his mouth.

• The gas delivery guy who came to give me the cylinder yesterday was clearly in a hurry. He rang the outside bell, rang the doorbell and knocked on the door for good measure and then asked, "Gas hona?" Tell me this- if I've booked it, I surely will want it, won't I? So I said yes indeed I wanted it and he lugged it into the kitchen and contemplated the very difficult answer of how much he had to charge me for it. He scanned the receipt up and down and finally found the magic numbers, thank goodness.

• The guard who "guards" our building. He gave me my phone bill late (yet again) and with his usual goofy look. On being asked when it had arrived, he said with a big grin, "parso aaya madam". So madam asked him why it was being handed over so late to which he said (again with a smile). "bhool gaya madam." I told him with a bigger smile that if his tardiness and memory malfunction led to delays in my paying my bills and incurred some late fees, I'd take the money from him. Odd how he didn't smile when he said 'Okay madam' this time.

See, I'm not a hard ass. But certain things just keep getting stuck in my craw. Why do I always merit the eyes-glazed over look from delivery people? People who take forever to answer basic and expected questions and who seem to have that drooly, slack-jawed look down pat?

But such is life. Where all living being must learn to co-exist. The drooling with the non-droolies, the DUH'd ones with the ones who actually get what's going on in front of them and the in my case, the perpetually teeth-clenched ones with those who have the gaping maws that prove so favorable to flies everywhere.

The Prickly Part of Growing Up

I was tempted to name this post as 'Growing Pains' but that would be tres cliched and I wasn't sure if I'd already named MLM's vaccination as a growing pain in the past ergo..

He turned 2 1/2 yesterday and was due for his last vaccination as a preschooler. So off we went to the hospital this evening. The pediatric wing has a play area that looks something like this-

Needless to say, courtesy that play area he gets suckered into going to the doctor each time it's required. Of course as long as needles aren't involved he quite likes the visits as well. The doctor's desk has all sorts of paraphernalia that likes to get his hands on and as it is, I always have more to yak up with his docs that they have to with him. They barely spend 5 minutes with him and more time fielding my questions. Blame it on being a yakkety-almost-paranoid-mother.

Anyhow, today was the day of two vaccines and the people in the vaccination department decided to prick him at the same time in each thigh. Needless to say it did not go down well with him. One thing I've noticed about my child from the time he was about a day old- he has a loud set of pipes!
These ouchies however made him very angry and also hurt his feelings into the bargain. By the time we left the hospital he was majorly angry and it took a goodish time to calm him down. It took cajoling, coaxing, admonishment and a trip to the KFC drive-through :)
(I should mention that MLM, while a slightly fussy eater, has no problems eating the popcorn chicken from KFC and can devour a large packet all by his lonesome!)

While leaving the hospital we took Red's car while mine (again Red's) was still in parking. Once the offspring was sufficiently calmed down we drove back and transferred him along with a few morsels of the chicken into my car and strapped him into the car seat. And we were homeward bound. All was going well until...you guessed it, he ran out of the chicken. And then, the anger, the disappointment and frustration arose doubly and he was howling my ear off all the way till our apartment. The worst thing was the amount of time I was stuck in traffic while his shrieks grew louder and louder from the backseat. I was tempted to lean on the horn to get the guys in front to move although I knew they wouldn't be able to budge an inch!

The moment we pulled into the parking, he was reunited with his father, his chicken (or as he calls it- chinkan) and the tantrums abated just as suddenly as they had started. My ears were still ringing and I was mentally making a note to tell the KFC guys to have a bucket-version of the same item just for lil weirdos like my kid!

Now all's calm on the western front. They chinkan's been eaten. Oswald's on the telly and he's glued to the sofa like his life depends on it.
And THAT ladies and gentlemen is how this post came to be :)

G'nite

First Family Vacation

What should have been an entirely yippee-yippee moment was so in bursts.
Red and I hadn't taken a vacation in over 2.5 years. Yes, MLM is also 2.5. Do the math.

Plenty of parents we know have traveled with their tots while they were mere mites but we were always pretty damn cautious. We needed (read wanted) the ideal ambiance, support, accessories before we took MLM anywhere. It made it easier for us to cater to him and I guess somewhere we felt we were doing the right thing by him.

But being a SAHM has its cons as well. Mainly the one your kid plays on you but there are days when you can remember the pre-kid days so vividly that you know your brain's telling you to take a break else it'll explode and you'll be responsible for cleaning up the mess.

And so we did. Not clean the mess but took a vacation. All of us. With no child minders around. And that in a nutshell is what we needed. I think what most parents need is some time either by themselves or with each other with no offspring in sight. It helps tremendously in regaining some equilibrium within yourself and with each other. You've become a parent. Nothing is going to change that. What you need to be able to revert to from time to time is being just another person or a spouse or a friend within having nap times, feeding schedules et al on your radar. Essentially, having your guard down and being carefree.

The resort we went to was pretty decent by beach huts' standard. I would have enjoyed it more had I gone there on that long-awaited holiday with my sister, Red, folks or even by myself. But add a child to the mix which includes keeping them off the grass. Making sure they're out of the wicked waves during high tide. That they aren't guzzling down sea water like it's Voss and most importantly hurting themselves on the flotsam-jetsam that accumulates on the beach aka beer caps, cigarette butts, broken shells etc.
And my son usually tries to encompass all these things; if not in one go then gradually and with increasing frequency.

Was the holiday everything I wanted it to be? Kind of when you consider that I just factored in sun, sand, surf and beer. Ok that broke the alliteration but atleast it's honest!
I wanted to go as far as I could in the sea without fear of a great big wave taking me down to Atlantis for all eternity, Red wanted a new experience- he kayaked till his arms hurt. I wanted to take pictures of the surroundings- I did. And I wanted my kid to shriek with joy and delight- he did. Over and over and over again. Till the damn gulls cold shouldered us for the rest of our stay there.

We rode around on a bike and MLM learnt the Indian way of signalling a turn (never mind that it was usually a wrong one), Red lost his specs in the sea and ended up making an emergency trip to Madgaon and buying contacts and shades and making 'Enna Rascala' poses!


Anyhoo, the upshot was that, it was a fantastic trip with plenty of bumps that made us consider the location, facilities available for our next trip. Which I dearly hope will be before another 2 years.

Some Goan snapshots-

A Passionate Packer..

I LOVE to pack. I do. Whether am packing up clothes after winter's over, packing for a trip or just storing away excesses- packing is F-U-N!

It could come from all the packing and unpacking I've been exposed to in my gypsy life. Having put down roots in a city for the 1st time in my life I don't get to haul out the suitcases, duffle bags since travelling's kept to a minimum. Not by choice though...some things play out this way.

While I was packing for a trip I'm going to be taking shortly, I could recall vividly that packing had always been accompanied with a sense of anticipation rather than just being a task that was necessary. Packing brought with it plans for a change of place and pace; meeting new people, reconnecting with old ones; a different experience if not an adventure altogether!

I packed with relief when I used to go home from college and the hostel for the holidays. With downright woe when I had to leave people behind and start off in a new place. With mixed feelings when I packed my bags before my marriage. With trepidation when I packed my hospital bag before I went into labor and with glee now that I'm packing for a beach holiday. Never mind that along with the fun will also go some odds and ends and plenty of 'just-in-case' stuff. But packing always signals the start of a new phase and I guess, having a largely home-bound life; I always welcome change.

And then comes unpacking. And with it comes surprises- pleasant and unpleasant. Gifts you bring back from trips, those special jars of yummies that accompany a kid staying in a hostel, spills of all conceivable kind, things that prove just how fragile they are and every other kind paraphernalia that we deem important enough to keep with us.

So this post has turned out to be an ode to packing...may I keep needing my suitcase more than just for it's annual trip down from the loft to change the Odonil cakes and naphthalene balls.
Amen.