Looking for a Moose

Looking for a Moose
by Phyllis Root (Author),
Randy Cecil (Illustrator)

Have you ever seen a moose--
a long-leggy moose--
a branchy-antler, dinner-diving, bulgy-nose moose?

That's how the book starts, with a small band of kids embarking on a search for moose.

The rhythm, the meter, the build-up and the illustrations have made this book my favorite, and judging by her twinkle when asking me to read it to her, my baby's as well.

It is a very simple book. A bunch of kids and a little dog go looking for moose. They look in the woods first without much success, which makes them declare

We look and we look, but it's just no use.
We don't see any long-leggy moose.

They look in the swamp, on the mountains, everywhere and eventually they find "a moose and a moose and a moose", "so many moose"!

What I liked about this book:

• the illustrator cleverly hides moose in each page that the band of moose-hunting children in the book miss (but the dog spots easily, apparently); older kids will have a blast "discovering" the hidden moose on each page
• each page moves along with each category of moose they list at the beginning: long-leggy, branchy-antler, dinner-diving, bulgy-nose moose
• moreover, it doubles as a counting book of sorts as there are a certain number of hidden moose of each category: one long-leggy moose, two dinner-diving moose, three branchy-antler moose...
• there are enough repetitions of the common theme and words that it almost works like Eric Carle's classic Brown Bear book to develop prediction skills in toddlers around 2-3 years, even if they don't understand all the words and the illustrations

My 2-yr old loves the sing-song rhythm it carried, and with each read she would point to the kids in the page and talk about their boots and hats (words on the page) and so on.

Older kids (recommended for ages 4-8) would like descriptions like brambly-ambly, scrubby-shrubby bush and so on.

flying misadventure

Well, for almost 10 years now, I've been visiting my brother in the east coast, flying in either from mid-west where I sojourned briefly, or from the beautiful Pacific Northwest where I've made my nest to roost for a while now.

And, every time, the journey cross country to visit him gets a bit more adventurous than called for.

Take the latest for example. A reasonably long 12-hour journey turned into a 24-hour series of misadventure.

Read More...

it's that time again...

The furrowed brow, the wrinkled nose, the unintentional tripping on the hardwood floor, the serious admonishing of the wall for jumping out of nowhere to bump me... all can mean only one, well, one of many, things...

Every few months, I turn into a practicing contortionist trying to perform the happy dance while sliding down the slippery slope of contemplating the possibility of being an SAHM...

I have tremendous respect bordering on awe for all the wonderful SAHMs, especially the plucky ones with more than one offspring to shepherd...ummm... nurture all day, all night, day-in, day-out, without much break, without much (paid or unpaid) help from responsible adults...

Most people, moi aussi, don't work for hobby, unfortunately. They work to make a living, to put a roof over the head, to put food on the table, to pay off the student loans which they thought was an investment in their future only to find that it didn't quite give them the edge they were told it would.

No, I don't think SAHM is a walk in the park, unless it is the Serengeti we are talking about...

If only things were as simple as in the good old days... No doubt, if my mom hadn't worked, things would have been tight but we would certainly have managed fine... however, the many things that I have managed to do would have remained a distant dream. That's a sobering thought.

Plus, there is always the nagging insecure feeling that I may not be as relaxed and perfect as I imagine my SAHM-self to be - it is hard work, greatly rewarding, but still back-breaking, spirit-wrestling hard work!

What triggers these self-inflicted conflicts in my mind? Well, one thing for sure is when my baby walks home and imitates her daycare caregivers - be it words, be it actions... It pinches my heart when in an affected and exaggerated tone my baby chides, "No Amma, sticker not on the head, oh-kaaayyy? Put it on the paper" when I try to stick a bindi on her forehead, or, "Uh-Oh speel, wipe please, clean up!" parroting the way her caregiver talks to the kids in her class... That didn't come from me, she should be mimicking me...

And as I explained to D, it is not any twisted form of jealousy that acts as a catalyst in these periodic bouts of second-guessing the status quo; it is the fact that had I been around her all day, she would naturally pick up things from me, and, therefore, do I have many things that are worth picking up? Am I adequate enough to be a role model for the tender mind?

Fortunately, when I get distressed, I try to remember that I want to send Ana to college, give her a good head start in life, support her morally and financially in what she has the potential and aptitude to do... which, of course, brings me back to the futility of even contemplating being an SAHM, given the current set of constraints.

Ergo, logic prevails, sanity takes charge, I run to the laptop, tap away at the keyboard, pour the aching heart out and get ready for another day filled with the hope that things will get better and I can consider being an SAHM... even if the timing is all off.

mothering the (clumsy) woman

It was a "ten thousand things had to be done today, and had to be done *NOW*... every task is urgent, really urgent, or immediately needed... no time to plan, no time to prepare... Time's a-wasting, can't you speed this up?" kind of a week at work and I was at the ebb of my energy and patience. Two good reasons to just sit back when I reach home, maybe order some pizza, and retire early to bed.

Two good reasons ignored and consequences suffered...

Frazzled from a strenuous work day, I attempted to cook a meal for the family - afterall,
Baby needs proteins and such,
dinner is the only meal we manage to eat together,
what kind of a mother and wife would I be if I didn't even do this for my loved ones...

so went my many rationalizations, none of which included,
put your oxygen mask on first before you help put others' on.

Well, what with Ana screaming and running back and forth through the open kitchen, and me trying to unload the clean dishes and reload the dishwasher, I got a little careless, a little clumsy, and let the 1½ cups of 375°F hot oil balanced precariously on a round-bottomed pan over open flame of my gas stove splash on my hand. My right hand, to be precise. All over the back of my right hand and a little on my wrist.

I screamed just as if I was about to birth my next baby. D, out gardening, didn't hear the first few shrieks. But, Ana did. Rooted to her spot not 5 feet away, in the nook by the open kitchen.

Common Sense and Instinct took possession of my faculties for the next few minutes, somehow the stove was turned off and the water was running in the kitchen sink rinsing the sizzling oil off my seared skin by the time D hurried in to assess the damage.

I could hear his thoughts: Baby is safe. Good. Not a sign of injury on the wee tot. Good. Let's look at your hand now... hmmm... seems bad. You'll probably just blister and regrow your skin. Nothing permanent, maybe a dull scar. Leave it under running water while I figure out how best to help you...

All he said was, "It's OK, perhaps a shot of berry vodka would take the edge off, let me bring you some..." and he was off to the bar downstairs leaving me with my straying thoughts about how much worse it could have been... and my rapturous heart kissing God's feet, grateful that my ineptitude did not scar my precious...

When I slowly resurfaced and my shrieks had died down to stifled moans, I spotted Ana still transfixed, watching intently. The minute we established eye-contact, she came running straight into my leg, hugged it with her chubby baby arms and repeated soothingly, "Amma's OK.. Amma's OK..."

Yes, indeed, Amma's OK, my ministering baby doll, because *you* are OK.

smart traps

Most mornings, if you tuned into our home radio station, it will probably be broadcasting some version of me asking

"Ana! Inga vaa... put on your panties, please... Ana?, Anaaaa..."
(Inga vaa = come here)

To which, the wee little adamant voice would reply

"No, Amma, no, Ana no ishio gwisgo panties"
(ishio = eisiau = want, gwisgo = wear, in Welsh)

At which point, knowing I have the smartest trick up my sleeve, you'll hear me casually coercing one of our kitties, with not a hint of chuckle in my voice

"OK. Twt, Twt, come here Twt, you can put on Ana's panties... Twwwtt..."

When the said kitty Twt starts walking towards me, you'd hear frenzied tinkling of anklets accompanied by baby feet thumping, and a resolute Ana declaring

"No Tukkie, no! My! Not Tukkie's panties... Amma, Ana's panties, Ana gwisgo panties!"
(Tukkie = Twt, one of our kitties)

And you'll probably not hear the wonderful smirk I would be sporting, beaming with the Mission Accomplished feeling.

Of late Ana has learnt to say "My!" (mine) and somehow knows that it laid claim to whatever it is she is pointing to, holding, or trying to grab out of others' grasp...

Now, being the typical toddler with the implicit understanding that the whole world revolves around her needs, her likes, and her moods, Ana has had a little bit of a possessive streak in her. Which, as all smart mommies know, can be leveraged in several ways to get some desired constructive outcome, as demonstrated...

All would be fine, if only I hadn't realized what a trap my smart mind has set up for me to fall into down the road: we are trying to teach her to Share now, and my little trick has come back to bite me in the you-know-what!

So, next time you tune in, if you hear me asking

"Twt, Twt want to share panties?"

try not to laugh at me :-)

Am just another mommy trying to unlearn and relearn...

raising a happy child

It is a tough topic I wrestle with on and off: How to raise a happy child?

There are tons of literature on it and I have read my share of them...

But, what usually helps me wrap my mind around it is this:

Happiness is not about walking around with a smile always.

This statement, which I encountered in my late teens, made a big impact on me.

Indeed, Happiness is not about smiles and laughs alone...

Happiness is about learning to be well-adjusted, well-rounded, well-equipped to cope with whatever Life throws at you.

That lightbulb moment helped me channel my whinings and complainings towards a positive, action-oriented approach to learning to be happy.

In general, I try to think back on my childhood to find the elements that made me appreciate the world and everything I have been exposed to, and how to apply that to raising a Happy Ana.

Accepting, coping with, and getting past the many things Life usually throws at us is a big lesson to learn, in addition to appreciating all that we love and cherish...

By being there for me, by listening to my angst and helping me get past it, by teaching me that there are not just ups but downs as well that make Life worth living, I think my parents showed me the way to become a better person, a happy person.

I hope I can pass that lesson on to Ana...

Happy Father's Day!

Items used: popsicle sticks (jumbo), pom-poms, 2-inch piece of ribbon (or raffia string), craft glue; plus favorite photo.

I think the picture says it all... very simple photo frame for show-casing your favorite daddy-baby moment.

Two-year olds are not easy to lasso in for a dedicated craft project, but, I got lucky. Ana seems to love the colorful pom-poms. I simply had to put dots of glue on popsicle sticks and hand her the pom-poms and she caught on right away and placed the pom-pom as seen... of course, she wanted to take them off, put them on, take them off, put them on, chew a few, try to see if they will stick on her arms like her stickers... which gave me plenty of time to grab my camera and click a few pictures... but, eventually, she stuck them on and headed over to supervise the kitties playing.

What was left to do was pick a photo, glue the pom-pom-laden popsicle sticks to the photo, and place cross-wise sticks to form a frame; add a loop to hang it from, and there you have it!

kids crafts: Father's Day Art

When she is in the mood, Ana loves to finger paint, or even paint with her large brush.

Sometimes, she will drag her brush across the paper and point to it and exclaim "Amma, look, horse!" as if she had really painted a horse :-)

I like the vivid colors of the tempera paints we have, and the milder hues of the finger-painting paints.

I was wondering what to do for Father's Day... and Ana gave me the start!

Last weekend, she had finished painting a piece - usually, that's when she asks me to unroll some more paper so she can paint on blank paper again... While unrolling some more for her, I decided to tear the piece she had just finished and turn it into "art" for Appa.

Unfortunately I didn't take a picture of her painting this particular piece, but, I did manage to take one of her painting whimsically at another time...

I simply mounted Ana's art on a mat I had, added a loop to hang it from. And then, gave a few stickers to Ana to paste it on the mat just for added effect :-)

Of course, Ana cannot write yet, so, I added some words and a stamp and...

Voila! Daddy has a nice little Father's Day gift made by his baby girl to proudly hang on his office wall!

kids crafts: bookmarks

Ana is too little to color "properly" with her crayons and markers, let alone color within boundaries and draw designs. But, I remember doing a few craft projects with my cousins when I was baby sitting them and wanted to try it with Ana anyway...

This is a nice little project for 4-6 year olds who can either copy a pattern or come up with their own whimsical ones. The nice thing about this project is that it is small, it is useful and can be done during birthday parties and given away as party favors. And, probably can work as an incentive to read books :-)

One evening, I had Ana just scribble with her crayons on cardstock as a start. She had just finished some finger-painting and the artistic streak was still lingering... so, before it turned into a mild obsession about undressing Olga, I handed her some crayons and the card stock paper. Then, I drew a rough outline for the bookmarks to incorporate her scribblings.

By now, of course, Ms.Busy-bee had moved on to changing her clothes and shoes, and doing the same with Olga and Enid... While she was keeping herself occupied thusly, I decided to finish the job, so-to-speak...

I had to be careful though - she is very possessive of her crayons and markers. If she spies me even touching the box that holds them, she likes to throw a fit. So, I adjourned to the craft nook where I do my sewing, where she knows I am doing my own thing and not worrying about her, stealing a few crayons and markers and hoping she doesn't notice...

And, there you have it! A few handy bookmarks... just like a kid made it!

I can't wait to do a few more with her when she understands the steps involved and wants to do it herself.

Tagged: 8 Things About Ana

Poppin's Mom at Babies Anonymous tagged me for 8 Things about Ana...

Thanks, Poppin's Mom!

Rather than think too hard about it, I am just going to write the top 8 that comes to my mind now, in no particular order, so, here they are:

1. Ana speaks: Welsh, Tamil and English - all mixed up. "Uh-Oh, Payyan Crying", "Ana ishio kaffee doos", "Bore da, Appa, Morneen, Amma" [payyan=little boy in Tamil; ishio = eisiau = want in Welsh; Bore Da = Good Morning, in Welsh; and, Appa/Amma=Dad/Mom in Tamil]
   
2. Ana's first book: I Spy (by Jean Marzollo) which I started reading to her at 2 months and continued to read in the same sing-song so that she "reads" it now, on her own... Loves books, gets excited about new books
   
3. Ana loves songs: from 6-12 months it was Wheels On The Bus, Hokey-Pokey and Row Row - likes to do the actions for each song, like hold hands and go forward and backward in rowing motion; then graduated to Clementine and some other Dad's "folk" songs; but is easily calmed when I recite some of my Sanskrit slokas or Mother Goose Nursery Rhymes, in a sing-song
   
4. Ana's "movie" preference: favorite shows so far (the ones we let her watch, that is): Smot, Nodi and Ffi-ffi (Welsh)
   
5. Ana likes Ganesha and Hanuman: of course, she doesn't get the God concept, but, gleefully identifies Ganesha and Hanuman wherever she spots them; my elation at this is usually short-lived as she immediately follows "Gun-ness-aa" with "elephant" and "paaaaaannm" imitating the trumpeting sounds
   
6. Ana's first word: "kikky" = Kitty. She seems to think the two kitties we have are her "human" siblings and tries to boss them around - tells them what to do - fills the kitty food bowls and tells them to eat!
   
7. Ana's new drink buddy is her dad: She likes to raise her little sippy cup full of milk and declare "Cheers!" while trying to bang the cup against Dad's beer stein, turning to me and explaining, "Appa's doos, Ana's doos", pointing at the drinks.
   
8. Ana loves dolls: first her cabbage patch doll Enid, and now Olga; she calls them 'paapaa' (Tamil word for little girl), undressing them and trying unsuccessfully to dress them back again in different clothes
   

Now, I am curious about Abi as Kowsalya at ninaivalai mentions little things about her... and after the big move, I am curious how K and S are adjusting, so would like to tag Prabha at Pink Blankie to pick 8 things about K and S she finds common...

back after a break!

After two weeks of wonderful break, it is good to be back at the nest. The trip was very exciting and relaxing at the same time - one big advantage of traveling with a baby - can't rush about too much trying to pack as many activities in a day as we would have liked to :-)

Ana was pretty good through out the trip. We put her through a lot of traveling and she took it like a champ and managed to enjoy it - for the most part.

One of the new phrases she used extensively during the trip was "Go Bay" (GO Away!)... any time she was annoyed and did not want us to try and help her out she would scream "Go Bay!" It was just too cute and hilarious :-)



She bonded with her new friends Olga (the Bavarian girl doll) and Martin (yodelling lederhosen-wearing teddy bear).


Drachenfrühstück (Dragon's breakfast) and Der Klein Eisbär pixi series books in German became her best entertainment - she made me read them about a hundred times each! And my German being what it is, I somehow managed fine - not that she would've known the difference, of course ;-)

A couple of mini jigsaw puzzles kept her occupied briefly during the ICE train ride but they seemed too easy for her and soon she lost interest in them...

Anyway, we are back in the nest and I hope to be posting more actively again.